#but like…….. if u had never found out about this. or if this hadn’t happened and he went on to live a boring long life

[seventh-district]

sometimes it’s late at night and you’re cleaning your room and you come across a few old black and white photos of a young girl and you stare at them for a long minute wondering how on earth they got lost in an old Kroger shopping bag with an unopened pack of cigarettes and a receipt dated 2017.

and you look at the girl in the pictures sat on the floor of someone’s home you don’t recognize, smiling and playing with a set of keys and a tiny part of you feels like it recognizes her but you aren’t sure.

and you flip the pictures over hoping to find some sort of annotation that would give you context and all you find is the year 1964 stamped in tiny font along the edge.

and you flip them back over and time stands still as you realize that the recognition you feel is because she looks so much like you once did and next thing you know your hands are sweating and shaking and you have to sit on the floor because you’re crying so hard because it hits you all at once that you’re looking at your mother.

[tchaikovskaya]

I could/should elaborate when I’m not falling asleep as I am rn but like. I feel like for the people who you “mourn” who have died young and/or suddenly who you knew only in passing, or only casually interacted with, or were once close to but in the years between then and their death you barely spoke, etc etc etc, you arent actually mourning them or their presence in ur life (and now palpable absence) (supposedly) but just what it means to be a human on earth who has to grapple with inevitable loss and the immense weight of what a Person is and their footprint on everyone they interact with that is fleeting even tho there are several billions of us on the floating rock but none of those billions of lifetimes are ever overlapping 100%…. sigh :/

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

~

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

~

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

[finelinefae]

the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam

word count: 12.2k

contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk

a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33

this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here

. . .

In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself.  She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week. 

But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds. 

When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship. 

She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could. 

She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her. 

She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.

The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with. Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life.  Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry. 

It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend. 

She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning. 

She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved. 

Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy. 

“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes. 

“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly. 

It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red. 

“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.

“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt. 

He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”

“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side. 

“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs. 

“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath. 

“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers. 

“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.” 

Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly. 

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.

“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?” 

Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”

“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”

Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was. 

Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it. 

“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”

“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.

“I know you will,” Harry replied. 

That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline. 

She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location. 

Paris, France. 

She was going to Paris. 

With Harry. 

She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be. 

Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up. 

“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation. 

Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”

Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.

“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise. 

She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too. 

. . . 

Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away. 

Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet. 

They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes. 

“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.

Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”

She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”

“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes. 

Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”

Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground. 

With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.

Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court. 

In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”

Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”

“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.

“From who?” Harry frowned.

“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around. 

“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late. 

He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head. 

“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” 

“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away. 

“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”

“You’re an animal!” She hissed.

Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training. 

. . .

Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there. 

She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way. 

Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long. 

They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled. 

But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be. 

“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves. 

“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”

Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”

“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”

“Yes baby?” 

“You promise we’ll be okay?”

He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.” 

“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.” 

Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”

Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,” 

“What? You bought it up.”

When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her. 

They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”

He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again. 

“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”

“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.

“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse. 

Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind. 

“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”

Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”

Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”

Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.

Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.

“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.

. . .

Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway. 

The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor. 

Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed. 

“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed. 

Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.

Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again. 

This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in. 

Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower. 

After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people. 

The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had. 

“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. 

Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her. 

“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time. 

“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing. 

Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?” 

“Mhm,” 

Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”

Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”

She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them. 

It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city. 

“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face. 

Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together. 

“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt. 

“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.

. . .

“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed. 

After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him. 

They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around. 

Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby. 

Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door. 

“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice. 

Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more. 

They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside. 

They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air. 

Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against. 

With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them. 

Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.

“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”

Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it. 

“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.

Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”

Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”

Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.” 

Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”

Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”

Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”

Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose. 

Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”

“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.” 

Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway. 

. . .

Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city. 

Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots. 

Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine. 

This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets. 

Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest. 

She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured. 

Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day. 

“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her. 

Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”

Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them. 

At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"

Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”

“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased. 

“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.” 

Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”

“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”

“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”  

“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”

“But you said no,” 

“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life. 

“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked. 

Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.” 

He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”

. . .

Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down. 

Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.

He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room. 

Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”

Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”

A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed. 

Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.” 

She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”

Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”

Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed. 

She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.

“I want to,” She murmured against his lips. 

Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.

“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”

Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”

Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room. 

As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers. 

Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited. 

Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,” 

“Harry,” Y/N laughed.

“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft. 

Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him. 

Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch.  She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly. 

She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.

“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much. 

Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new. 

With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned. 

“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something. 

“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket. 

Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her. 

Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs. 

“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”

Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.” 

Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him. 

Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”

Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”

Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”

“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache. 

After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”

Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.” 

“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”

Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”

Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve. 

“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds. 

Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly. 

She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size. 

“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?” 

Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”

Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full. 

Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort. 

Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured. 

“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”

He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”

Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life. 

“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded. 

A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured. 

Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her. 

“God Harry,” Y/N whines. 

“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers. 

“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last. 

“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward. 

Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”

Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air. 

“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?” 

“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her. 

“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release. 

Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her. 

Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.

“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.

“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade. 

“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.

“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him.  “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.

“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied. 

They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same. 

. . .

Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening. 

She was watching a tennis match on the TV again. 

“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”

Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”

He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen. 

They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching. 

“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.” “Every game?” Harry poked her side. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”

Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”

Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”

“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.” 

“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened. 

Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,” 

Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again. 

. . .

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves. 

Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her. 

After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before. 

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes. 

They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted. 

“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her. 

“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”

Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”

“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.” 

Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says. 

Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”

Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”

A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction. 

She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend. 

“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.

He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”

Y/N squeezes his hand,  “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both. 

Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home. 

When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said. 

Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.

Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.

The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot. 

With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder. 

Courtney had the first point. 

Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court. 

Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before. 

Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off. 

“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks. 

Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun. 

This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it. 

An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.

Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him. 

“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up. 

“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes. 

She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over. 

“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.

“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.

Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling. 

He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too. 

“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed. 

“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.

He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say. 

“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.

“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.

“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.

“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”

“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”

“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”

“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”

“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.

“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”

“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”

Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.

“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.

Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.

“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.

As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”

The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else. 

He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”

Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”

He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes. 

She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her. 

Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach. 

The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket. 

Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball. 

With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.

As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.

A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her. 

With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.

Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise. 

And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.

Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game. 

Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder. 

Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”

“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her. 

She had won. 

. . . 

Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them. 

“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”

Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”

“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”

Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?” 

Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”

Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”

Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”

“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another. 

Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”

They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas. 

Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her. 

Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around. 

A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm. 

He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”

Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”

“Did you smash it?” He smirked. 

“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes. 

His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark. 

“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away. 

“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,” 

“I did not,” Y/N gaped. 

“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”

“No you were the one who-” 

Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something. 

“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car,  “Take me home please,” 

“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home. 

He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too. 

For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.

taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove @tenaciousperfectionunknown  @hesvoid34 @writersarenotartists @ayeree1 @sassamanda77 @estaticheart

[skywalkerslvt]

Stop thinking about her- cheater!Ellie Williams x AFAB Reader

❥Pairing: cheater!Ellie Williams x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: Your ex-best friend's girlfriend approaches you at a party. You don't have it in you to push her away.

❥CW: smut, fingering, tribbing, a bit of thigh grinding, drinking, top ellie, ellie cheats on her girlfriend with you, this is kinda really cliche but idc im having fun, 5.4k words

❥a/n: finals are over SO LETS CELEBRATE WITH A FIC! here's the long awaited cheater ellie fic hope u guys likeeee <3

You didn’t know how you ended up slightly drunk and under your ex-best friend’s girlfriend. That’s a lie—you knew exactly how it happened, and you didn’t feel nearly as guilty as you should have.

Ellie’s lips were on yours, hot and desperate, her calloused hand sliding up under your shirt like she couldn’t touch enough of you fast enough. The room spun slightly, whether from the tequila or the weight of her body pressing you into the mattress, you weren’t sure. Her knee nudged your legs apart, and you felt her breath hitch when you shifted under her, your thighs brushing against her hip.

You knew this was wrong—knew it deep in your gut—but the thought barely lingered, drowned out by the feel of Ellie’s tongue against yours, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip as if she wanted to devour you. Your cheeks were flushed, skin burning where her fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your side. You hadn’t even realized your hands had tangled in her hair, pulling her closer like you couldn’t bear for her to pull away.

The distant thrum of music from the party downstairs was barely audible now, muffled by the closed door and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. It was someone’s room—a stranger’s, you guessed—but the thought was fleeting, lost as Ellie’s lips trailed along your jaw, down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

This wasn’t where you expected the night to end. But if you were being honest, maybe some part of you had hoped it would.

Of course, this didn’t just happen. It had been building for weeks, months even—long before tonight, long before you found yourself pressed into this bed with her.

-

It started years ago, back when your ex-best friend was still your best friend.

The two of you had been inseparable once, the kind of friendship people envied. Late-night texts, inside jokes, and an unshakable bond that felt like it could survive anything. But it didn’t.

You could barely remember what the fight had been about—a crush, maybe, or something equally stupid. What you did remember were the words: sharp, angry, and designed to hurt. And they had. Even after the apologies, after the promises to move on, the cracks remained.

The friendship that followed wasn’t the same. You still saw each other, still caught up over coffee or at mutual friends’ gatherings, but it was stiff, polite. Surface-level. You held onto the good memories, but deep down, resentment lingered like a splinter you couldn’t quite remove.

When you heard about Ellie, it was almost a relief. It gave your ex-best friend something else to focus on—someone else. Ellie was different, not the type you’d have expected her to date. She was quiet but sharp, with a sarcastic edge and a disarming smirk that felt equal parts charming and dangerous.

You didn’t meet her at first, just saw glimpses of her online. Mutual friends posted photos, and then one day, Ellie’s name popped up in your Instagram notifications. She’d followed you. 

Sure you thought she was cute, and sure after creeping her account and finding out you two had very similar interests you thought that maybe if your ‘friend’ hadn’t gotten to her first, you would’ve made a move on her–but that didn’t matter. She was dating the girl who had broken your heart, your trust, and because of that, you and Ellie would never exist in the same world. You weren’t even sure you wanted to exist in her world if she could date someone who had hurt you with such ease. So, you accepted the request–just out of politeness for your sort-of-friend, and to occasionally creep. 

At first, you thought nothing of it. She followed plenty of people in your circle, after all. But then came the likes. It started innocently enough with Ellie occasionally liking music you’d repost on your story, or pictures of animals, but then it escalated. After a few months, the likes came in on everything–on your selfies, your random candid shots, even the pictures you posted to your story. Every time, there it was: a little heart from Ellie.

It was flattering, sure, but also…odd. You didn’t know each other, not really. Mutuals, at best. You debated bringing it up to her girlfriend, but the thought felt petty, paranoid. So you let it go.

Until tonight.

-

The party wasn’t your scene, but your friends had dragged you along anyway. “You’ll have fun,” they said. “Just a couple of drinks, some music, maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You didn’t. Instead, you spent the first hour nursing a drink and scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the chaos around you. The house was packed, the music loud enough to rattle your skull, and the air heavy with sweat and spilled alcohol.

You’d just decided to slip out quietly when you felt it—a prickle at the back of your neck, like you were being watched. You turned, scanning the crowded room, and that’s when you saw her.

Ellie.

She was leaning against the far wall, a drink in one hand, her other tucked into her jeans pocket. Her hair was a mess, the way it always seemed to be, and her eyes—those sharp green eyes—were locked on you.

You tried to ignore the way your stomach flipped, the heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t owe her anything. And yet, when she started moving toward you, you couldn’t look away.

“Hey,” she said, her voice low and almost lazy, like she wasn’t fully aware of the effect it had on you.

“Hey,” you replied, forcing yourself to sound casual, though your pulse was anything but.

She smiled, slow and crooked, her gaze sweeping over you in a way that made your skin prickle. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Didn’t know you even knew who I was,” you shot back, more defensive than you intended.

Her smirk widened, and she took a sip of her drink before answering. “Of course I do. Hard to miss someone like you.”

Your breath caught, but you covered it with a scoff. “Right.”

Ellie’s smile lingered, that knowing glint still dancing in her eyes, but she didn’t push. She leaned back just enough, but not far enough to give you space. It was a subtle move, like she was waiting for something, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Where you headed?” she asked, her tone light but with an edge of something that made you pause.

You glanced away, trying to keep your cool, your heart picking up pace for reasons you refused to acknowledge. “I was just about to leave,” you muttered, not entirely convinced you’d find the door anytime soon.

Ellie arched an eyebrow, as if considering the idea for a moment. “It’s so early, though,” she said, her voice smooth. “Stay a bit. What’s the rush?”

You bit back a groan. She was pushing, but not in a way that felt forceful. It was more like she was testing your boundaries, and you had no idea why you were so willing to entertain the idea.

You shook your head, trying to convince yourself this was all a bad idea. “There’s nothing to stay for. My friends have all gone off with other people. Here, I have nobody to talk to.”

Ellie leaned in just a little, her gaze never leaving yours. “Talk to me.”

It was simple, that invitation, but it hit you like a wave. Talk to her? About what? The last thing you wanted was to get caught up in her world, the world that had been woven into your ex-best friend’s life, but something about Ellie’s words softened the sharp edge of your hesitation.

The inner battle raged in your mind. You knew it was wrong. You shouldn’t even consider it. She was your ex-best friend’s girlfriend. And your ex had hurt you. She’d torn apart a friendship you’d once cherished and now was a distant stranger. There was so much bitterness, so much anger still brewing under the surface, that even thinking about this felt like a betrayal in itself.

But then, there was Ellie; Her confident, nonchalant way of speaking. The way her eyes never left you, pulling you in despite the walls you’d built.

You could say no. You should say no.

But somehow, you found yourself staying. The words slipped out before you could stop them. “Fine. One drink.” Your voice was quiet, guarded, but it was enough for Ellie to smile again, a smile that wasn’t as smug as before, but rather, almost… relieved?

She gestured to an empty corner, and you followed her, reluctantly, a part of you still wanting to walk away. You sat next to her, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. The hum of the party was still in the background, but it felt far away now, like it had no bearing on this moment.

Ellie poured you another drink, slower this time, like she was measuring each movement. Her fingers brushed against yours as she handed it to you, and the electricity that sparked between you was impossible to ignore. You held her gaze, trying to ignore the heat in your chest, the tightness in your stomach. You were overthinking it.

She’s not flirting with me, you told yourself silently. She’s just being friendly. Nothing wrong with that. She’s in a happy relationship, with someone I don’t even care about anymore. But even as you thought that, the doubts crept in.

Ellie raised her glass, giving you a small smile. “To new friends, I guess.”

You scoffed, not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes. “Friends, huh?”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Why not? You never know.”

You took a sip, eyeing her over the rim of your glass. You weren’t sure if she was trying to be charming or if this was just how she was. Either way, you couldn’t seem to shake the strange feeling settling deep in your chest.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You were both too busy staring into your drinks. It was a strange kind of quiet, one that stretched longer than it should have.

Ellie was the first to break it. Her voice was low and warm, just a bit too casual. “So, you’re just gonna sit here, all quiet, or do you actually know how to have a conversation?”

You glanced over at her, eyebrow slightly raised, feeling a sudden tug of defensiveness. “Not much to say,” you muttered, your gaze flicking back down to your drink, as though the glass could somehow shield you from her attention.

She didn’t seem put off by your response, though. Ellie’s lips quirked, and she leaned in just a little, enough that her presence felt a bit too close. “I don’t know… I think you’ve got something interesting behind that quiet thing you’ve got going on.”

Your eyes flicked back to hers, finding her watching you with an intensity that wasn’t exactly friendly. But it wasn’t aggressive either. It was… curious, maybe? Like she was trying to figure you out. And for some reason, that made you a little nervous. You forced yourself to respond, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was picking apart every little thing about you.

“I don’t know about that,” you said, the words coming out a little more clipped than you meant. “Just don’t feel like talking much.”

Ellie didn’t take offense. Instead, her gaze lingered on you with that same focused intensity, and there was a playful glint in her eyes now, like she’d caught a glimpse of something beneath your defenses. She leaned back slightly, just enough to give you space, but not enough to make you feel like she was backing off.

After a beat, she asked, “So, what’s your deal? Why are you here?”

You shrugged a little, casting a glance around at the crowded party, the music pulsing in the background, the laughter of strangers bouncing off the walls. “Parties aren’t really my thing,” you admitted. “I was dragged here by my friends. They think I need to get out more.” You made a vague motion to the chaos around you. “And, well, here I am.”

Ellie’s smile softened a little, her gaze flicking from you to the crowd. “Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I’m not exactly the life of the party either. More of a people-watcher.”

You nodded, relieved to find some common ground. The tension between you had started to ease, but Ellie didn’t let the silence stretch too long.

“I mean,” she continued, leaning in just a little closer again, “I guess I can’t blame you for being here. There’s a certain kind of energy to the chaos, right? But, uh, it doesn’t seem like you’re soaking it in.”

“No,” you agreed with a small laugh, “I’m definitely more of a ‘watching from the sidelines’ kind of person.”

Ellie grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Good. Makes you interesting.” She paused. “Most people here? They’re just noise. But you? You’ve got a vibe.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you tried not to let the compliment throw you off, but the way she said it, like she was really seeing you, made something warm unfurl inside you. “I don’t know about that,” you said, shifting awkwardly. “I think I’m just trying not to get caught in someone’s conversation I don’t want to be in.”

“Fair enough.” Ellie leaned back in her chair, giving you a little space. But she kept her eyes on you, observing. The quiet between you two felt comfortable now, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long this easy connection would last.

Before you knew it, Ellie was pouring you another drink, making conversation about your shared interests, your friends, family–anything and everything, really. You drifted from one topic to another, carried by Ellie’s easy charm and your hesitant curiosity. She had a way of drawing you in, her words casual but laced with something deeper, like every sentence was an invitation to unravel her. And you hated how much you wanted to take it.

She asked about your life—what you did, what you liked—and you answered in half-truths, skimming the surface but never diving too deep. You didn’t trust yourself to let her in, not when her very presence felt like a betrayal. But Ellie had a way of making you forget your reservations. She listened like every word mattered, her green eyes locked onto yours, her body angled toward you as if no one else in the room existed.

Somewhere between your third drink and Ellie’s story about a disastrous road trip she’d taken, you felt yourself relaxing. Laughing, even. You caught yourself leaning closer, your fingers brushing hers when you reached for your glass, and you knew you should pull back. But you didn’t.

The party had started to wind down. The music was softer now, the crowd thinning out as people either left or found places to crash. The room felt quieter, more intimate, and you were acutely aware of how close Ellie was sitting, her knee just barely brushing yours.

You know,” Ellie said, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful, “you’re different from what I’ve heard about you.”

Your stomach twisted at her words. She had heard about you through someone? Your ex best-friend must have been talking bad about you. You raised an eyebrow, confused. “What do you mean?”

Ellie’s lips curved into a sly grin, her voice dipping lower, a touch of mischief in her gaze. “I don’t know… I figured you’d be more, I don’t know, standoffish? Maybe a little harder to talk to.”

You tried not to let the thought of your ex-best friend—Ellie’s girlfriend—saying things about you to the admittedly attractive girl in front of you. But the old, familiar annoyance still simmered beneath the surface. Instead, you leaned in a little closer, your lips pulling into a teasing smile as your head buzzed from the alcohol. “Guess I’m full of surprises, huh?”

Ellie’s grin widened, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes, something that made you wonder if she knew exactly what you were implying. “Yeah,” she said, her fingers brushing over the back of your hand where it rested on the table, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “You’re way more interesting than most people.”

Internally, you slapped yourself. What the hell are you doing? This was a mess—flirting with your ex-best friend’s girlfriend, someone you didn’t even know that well. But another part of you, the part that still held a grudge against your old friend, didn’t care. What’s one more mistake? You could blame it on the booze tomorrow. 

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe I’m just good at keeping people on their toes.”

Ellie didn’t look away. She leaned in a little closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off her. The air around you seemed to hum with tension, thick and electric.

Ellie watched you for a moment, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “It’s really crowded in here,” she said, her voice dropping to something quieter, more intimate. “I saw a quiet room upstairs. Wanna go?”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Was she—was she hitting on you?

No. I’m overthinking this. It’s just a quiet place. That’s all.

You forced a smile, trying to play it cool. “Sure, why not?”

You both stood up, and as you made your way upstairs, your mind was racing. Am I reading this wrong? She has a girlfriend. What am I doing? But then, in the back of your mind, you reminded yourself that you weren’t doing anything wrong—yet.

The room upstairs was quieter than the chaos downstairs. It was dimly lit, the soft hum of distant music floating up from below. You both settled on the bed, and Ellie’s proximity made the air feel heavy with tension.

You leaned back slightly, trying to shake the nervous energy crawling up your spine. “So, uh, what now?”

Ellie’s eyes never left you, her gaze intense, like she was trying to figure something out. She leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. “We talk, I guess.” She gave you a half-smile, then added, “But I’m kinda tired of talking.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your body tensed as she reached out, her fingers brushing your arm lightly. “What are you saying?” you asked, your voice a little shakier than you meant.

Ellie’s lips quirked up at the edges as she leaned even closer, her eyes darkening. “I’m saying you’re way more interesting than this room. And I think I want to know you better.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. This is insane. She has a girlfriend. Why is she doing this?

“Ellie…” you breathed, unsure of what you wanted to say, your mind spinning.

She cut you off, her lips ghosting over yours as she whispered, “Tell me to stop.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and the words stuck in your mouth as her lips hovered just above yours, barely brushing against you.

You blinked, feeling a mix of confusion and desire. What about her girlfriend?

You pulled away just slightly, your voice shaking. “What about her?”

Ellie’s eyes flashed with something unreadable. “What about who?”

You hesitated, biting your lip, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Your girlfriend.”

Ellie paused for a moment, her gaze flicking to the side, before meeting your eyes again. “You really want to talk about her right now?”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You looked at her for a moment, all the weight of the situation crashing down on you. Then, finally, you shook your head. “No… fuck it.”

And just like that, Ellie’s lips found yours, and everything else faded away.

Ellie kissed you with a desperation that made your head spin, her hands framing your face as if to keep you from slipping away. Every rational thought dissolved in the heat of her touch, leaving nothing but the electric hum of her lips on yours and the weight of her body pressing you into the bed.

Her hand trailed down your side, hesitating just briefly before slipping under your shirt. The warmth of her palm against your bare skin sent a shiver racing through you, and you arched into her touch despite yourself. This was wrong—every fibre of your being knew that—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Ellie kissed you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground.

She pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her green eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. “Tell me to stop,” she murmured again, her voice low and almost pleading.

But you didn’t. Instead, you tangled your fingers in her hair and pulled her back down to you, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. Ellie groaned softly against your mouth, her grip on you tightening as if she couldn’t get close enough. It was intoxicating, the way she touched you, the way she made you feel like you were on fire from the inside out.

The world outside that room ceased to exist. There was no party, no ex-best friend, no girlfriend—just Ellie and the dizzying, reckless pull of her. Your mind screamed at you to stop, to think, to pull away before this went any further, but your body betrayed you at every turn. When her hand slipped lower, fingertips grazing the waistband of your jeans, you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat.

Ellie paused, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath. “You okay?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern that made your chest ache.

You nodded, swallowing hard, though your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure she could hear it. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m okay.”

Her lips brushed against yours again, softer this time, as if she were giving you the chance to stop her. But when your hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer, she took it as the permission she’d been waiting for.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this wouldn’t end well. This wasn’t a story with a happy ending—there was too much history, too many tangled emotions, too many people who would get hurt. But for now, with Ellie’s lips on yours and her body warm against you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else.

For now, it was enough.

Ellie’s lips moved to your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck, where her teeth scraped lightly against your skin, making you shiver. Your head tilted back instinctively, giving her more access, but even through the haze of alcohol and desire, a thought pushed its way to the surface.

“Ellie,” you whispered, your voice trembling. Her fingertips slipped under your waistband, her fingers grazing the bare skin of your hip, but you pressed your hands against her shoulders, trying to gather enough strength to speak. “Aren’t you—are you sure you're not worried about your girlfriend—?”

Before you could finish, Ellie’s teeth sank gently into the sensitive curve of your neck, drawing a gasp from your lips. She sucked at the spot, slow and deliberate, before pulling back to meet your gaze. Her green eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmured, “Stop thinking about her.”

Your stomach twisted at her words, torn between the guilt gnawing at the edges of your conscience and the heat pooling low in your belly. Before you could respond, Ellie’s hands gripped your hips, pressing you firmly into the mattress as she kissed you again, hard and demanding. When she pulled back, her voice was low and rough, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

“I’m only worried about getting your clothes off right now,” she said, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

Her teeth found your neck again, biting just hard enough to make your head spin. Each mark she left felt like a brand, a reminder of the line you’d already crossed and the point of no return you were hurtling toward. Her hands roamed over your body, her touch both possessive and reverent, and for the moment, you let yourself forget everything else.

Ellie’s lips found the edge of your jawline, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, where her teeth sank just hard enough to send a jolt of heat straight to your core. Her hands were everywhere at once, caressing, gripping, claiming you in ways that left you breathless. When her fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down, you lifted your hips to help her, the denim peeling away like it was the last barrier between you and the inevitable.

She tossed your jeans aside, her gaze raking over your body with an intensity that made your skin flush. “Fuck,” Ellie all but groaned, her voice thick with desire as her hands found your thighs, her thumbs brushing over your skin in slow, teasing circles. She looked at you like she was savoring every inch of you, and it made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t fully understand.

Her hoodie and tank top were gone in the next heartbeat, revealing the lean, taut muscles of her torso. Your hands moved on their own, sliding up her stomach and over her chest, feeling the way her body tensed under your touch. Ellie groaned softly, leaning into your hands before claiming your lips again in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. Her body pressed you into the mattress, her thigh slotting between your legs, and the friction made you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” she muttered, her voice low and rough as she shifted her hips, the pressure against you making your breath hitch. Ellie’s hands found your panties next, tugging them down slowly, her green eyes locked on yours as if daring you to stop her. You didn’t. You couldn’t. When you kicked them off, she followed, shoving her boxers and jeans off in a single, hurried motion until there was nothing left between you but skin and heat.

Ellie lowered herself onto you again, her thigh pressing between your legs with just enough pressure to make you moan as her wet pussy grinded against your thigh. She captured your moan with her lips, kissing you deeply as she began to move, her body grinding against yours in a rhythm that made your toes curl. Her skin was warm, slick with a thin sheen of sweat, and the way her muscles shifted and tensed against you was mesmerizing.

Her hand slipped down your torso, playing with your breasts before continuing their path between your thighs. Her deft fingers swept up your slit, collecting the wetness before circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure. You cried out at the touch, hips bucking wildly against her hand as she slid two fingers inside your tight heat while her thumb rubbed at your clit.

“You like that? Yeah you do–that’s a good girl. Take my fingers like a good girl,” Ellie praised as her fingers quickened their pace, the wet squelching of your cunt filling the room as her fingers pistoned in and out of you. The pressure between your legs was building fast–faster than it ever had with anyone else. God, was this girl some sort of sex god? 

Before you knew it, your orgasm washed over you, your pussy gushing and fluttering around Ellie’s fingers as you moaned out her name. Her fingers slowed, hips still moving against your thigh as your chest heaved in an attempt to catch your breath. 

After a beat of silence, Ellie cleared her throat. “Are–are you oka–”

You cut her off, pulling her face to yours and crashing your lips against hers in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “Want more, Els. Want you to ride me,” you mumbled against her lips, mind still hazy with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Ellie closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours as a guttural moan left her lips. 

“Fuck. Y-yeah, alright. I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

And with that, her hand slipped under your back, lifting your hips to angle you just right as she lowered her dripping pussy onto yours, your slick aiding her as she slowly rocked her hips against yours–testing the waters. When you moaned and bucked upwards, grabbing her hips and pressing them harder against yours, she began to rock against you with more purpose. The friction was electric, the pressure building with each movement as her body pressed into yours. Your legs tangled with hers, pulling her closer, needing her in ways that felt both primal and impossible to articulate.

Ellie’s lips found your neck again, her teeth scraping and biting, leaving marks you knew would last for days. “You like that?” she murmured against your skin, her voice dripping with confidence and desire. When your hips bucked against hers in response, she chuckled darkly, her grip on your waist tightening as she thrust her cunt harder against yours, the friction on your clit all too much.

The sensation was overwhelming, her body perfectly aligned with yours as you moved together. The slick heat between you only made it easier, your bodies sliding and grinding in perfect sync. Each roll of her hips sent sparks racing through you, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly.

Ellie shifted slightly, one of her hands sliding down your side to cup your hip, guiding you against her. “Fuck, you feel so good,” she groaned, her voice cracking with need. Her other hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so she could kiss you deeply, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your head spin.

Your nails raked down her back, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the tension in your core built to a breaking point. Ellie must have felt it too, her movements growing more erratic, her breath hot and uneven against your neck.

“Come for me,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

Her words sent you spiraling, the heat and pressure exploding all at once as your body arched against hers, a cry spilling from your lips that she silenced with a deep, searing kiss. Ellie followed moments later, her body shuddering against yours as her grip on you tightened, her breaths coming in harsh, uneven gasps.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the room filled only with the sound of your labored breathing and the faint creak of the mattress beneath you. Ellie’s body was heavy and warm against yours, her skin slick with sweat, and you found yourself clinging to her, your fingers tangled in her hair as you tried to catch your breath.

When she finally lifted her head to look at you, her green eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. She didn’t say anything, just brushed a strand of hair from your face before leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. She pulled away, gazing up at you softly. 

Ellie’s fingers brushed your jaw, her touch softer now, almost hesitant. “Was it… good?”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the question. “You seriously asking me that right now?”

Ellie grinned, but the lightness didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just making sure,” she said, voice softer this time.

A silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. You could still feel the heat of her against you, but the moment had shifted—tilted into something more fragile, more dangerous.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to sit up, the cool air biting at your skin. Ellie watched you, her expression guarded now, like she was waiting for you to say something. Maybe waiting for you to break the spell.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady your thoughts. “We shouldn’t have—”

Ellie sighed, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I know.” But there was no regret in her voice, only something dangerously close to satisfaction.

You should have left it at that. You should have gathered your clothes, walked out of that room, and never looked back.

But then Ellie reached for you again, her fingers catching your wrist, her touch warm and grounding.

And despite everything—despite the guilt, despite the consequences waiting just outside that door—you didn’t pull away.

Not yet.

Tags: @sevyscoven

[2amriize]

can u do riize crying because they think you dont like them anymore after you see them with another girl and start to act distant.(like a situationship )

˚⟡˖ ࣪ riize crying when you act distant after seeing them with another girl

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

genre angst

pairing riize x idol!reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

After seeing a girl touch Shotaro’s arm between classes, you couldn’t help but feel that the relationship you had with him wasn’t what you thought. These past few months, both of you had been very affectionate with each other, but you never officially formalized anything. Seeing how close he seemed with this other girl, you decided to distance yourself from him and started avoiding him in class.

One day after class, Shotaro approached you and asked if you could talk, to which you agreed. You both went to the end of one of the hallways, and as soon as you were alone, Shotaro started crying, which surprised you.

“Did I do something wrong, y/n…? I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

You explained why you had been behaving that way, and he looked at you, confused, shaking his head.

“She… she’s nobody, y/n. I only like you; I only want to be with you.”

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

You had been flirting with Eunseok for a few weeks now, but your relationship still wasn’t official. One day, when you were hanging out with some friends, you saw Eunseok at the bus stop. You were immediately happy to see him and approached him to say hello. But as you got closer, you noticed he wasn’t alone—there was a girl beside him, gently stroking his arm. Your smile instantly faded, and you turned around. From that moment on, you didn’t respond to Eunseok’s messages for a few days, or you just gave him very short and curt replies.

You didn’t expect that, a few days later, on a night when it was pouring rain, Eunseok would show up at your door.

“Eunseok, what are you doing…?”

“Why?” Eunseok asked you seriously, before you noticed tears falling down his cheeks.

“What? Eunseok, why are you crying?”

“Because… it makes me angry, y/n, it makes me angry that you’ve found someone else.”

“Me? I haven’t found anyone else; you’re the one who’s with another girl…”

You both looked at each other in confusion. Seeing how he was shivering from the cold, you invited him in and then explained what had happened.

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

“I’m sorry, y/n, I don’t know if I did something wrong, but I’m sorry.”

Sungchan was standing in front of you, crying, while you looked at him in surprise. You had been talking to him for a few months. You knew how popular he was among girls, but he had sworn to you that he only had eyes for you. Even though you weren’t officially together yet, you couldn’t help but feel bad when you saw him walking with a girl near the university, so you decided to distance yourself from him little by little.

When Sungchan realized this, he showed up at your door, crying, not knowing why you were acting that way.

“You don’t know if you did something wrong? And what about that girl you were with the other day?” You replied in a cold tone, even though you couldn’t bear to see Sungchan crying so desperately.

“Huh…? I…” Realizing who you were talking about, Sungchan looked at you, shaking his head several times as he continued crying. “She’s the daughter of a friend of my mom’s, but I swear she’s no one, I swear, y/n…” You couldn’t stand seeing Sungchan cry like that, so you approached him to wipe his tears before hugging him tightly.

ᯓ★ WONBIN

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. As you were walking down the academy’s halls, you saw inside a room Wonbin with another girl, who seemed to be very close to him. Even though you and Wonbin hadn’t confirmed your relationship, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at seeing that, so you started being colder toward him.

A few days later, while you were practicing alone in a dance room, you heard the door open, and when you looked up, you found Wonbin standing silently at the door, watching you. You stopped the music and looked back at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Have you found someone better than me…?” He finally spoke in a trembling voice, lowering his head.

“What are you talking about, Wonbin?” You walked over to him, noticing that he had started crying, so you put your hands on his face, wiping away his tears. “Why are you saying that?”

“These past few days… you’ve been avoiding me… and I thought you had found another guy…”

You shook your head several times, explaining that you had distanced yourself because you saw him getting close to another girl. He began crying more, saying that she was just a girl who was obsessed with him, but that he only wanted to be with you.

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

You were so sure that Seunghan was going to ask you out soon. You were basically already a couple, just waiting for him to officially ask you out since he had told you he wanted to do it in a special way. Your heart basically shattered when you were on the bus passing by his house and saw him walking into his apartment with a girl. You simply couldn’t believe what you were seeing, so you decided to stop answering his messages.

You couldn’t avoid seeing him since you both worked in the same place, but you tried not to work at the same hours or just avoided him altogether until one day, you walked into the staff area and found him sitting on a bench, crying. Even though you were upset about seeing him with another girl, you still had feelings for him, so you didn’t hesitate for a second to approach him and ask what was wrong.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what I did wrong, y/n, I thought things were going well between us…”

“I did too, Seunghan, but… I saw you the other day. And I get that we’re not officially together, but I thought we were exclusive with each other, so…”

“What?” Seunghan interrupted you, looking confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you walk into your house with a girl, Seunghan…” you whispered, looking down as you heard Seunghan sigh.

“y/n, look at me. That girl came to see the house because I’m selling it. I’m moving to an apartment closer to you, but it was supposed to be a surprise…”

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Sohee and you had been part of the same group of friends for many years, but it wasn’t until a few months ago that you both started showing interest in each other, beginning to hang out more alone. You were surprised to see him one day close to another girl at a café. You can’t deny that it hurt you a lot to see him meeting up with another girl alone, but at the same time, you knew that what you had wasn’t anything official yet, so you simply decided to start distancing yourself from him slowly—canceling plans, not being with him when you were with your friends, and not responding to his messages. Little by little, your relationship started becoming more uncomfortable because of this.

One day, when you all had gone to the beach with your friends, Sohee and you were left alone on the towels while everyone else went for a swim. You didn’t talk for minutes until you heard Sohee sobbing, making you look at him, worried.

“Sohee… is something wrong?”

“Did you ever like me?” he whispered in a trembling voice without looking at you.

“Why are you saying that? Of course I did…”

“Then why don’t you act the same way with me anymore?”

You explained that you had seen him with another girl and that even though you still cared about him, you didn’t want to interfere if he wanted to start a relationship with someone else since you weren’t officially together. Sohee, astonished, explained to you that the girl was a relative of his, which made you feel embarrassed for your reaction.

ᯓ★ ANTON

Since you saw how Anton was behaving with a girl from his class, who was very touchy with him, you decided to distance yourself from him. At least as much as you could, since it was difficult with both of you being in the same class. Plus, you were partners on a project that you had to submit at the end of the course, so you had to see him almost every week.

Before, you used to stay at his house after working on your project, watching movies together or just chatting, but after seeing him with the other girl, you decided to leave as soon as you finished the project. At first, you made excuses, like you were tired or had other plans, but Anton was starting to notice that you weren’t acting the same with him anymore.

One day, when you were at his house working on the project, Anton was very quiet, barely speaking. When you got up to leave, you felt Anton grab your wrist, and you turned around to find his tearful eyes looking at you. He couldn’t even speak, unable to find the words to apologize for whatever he thought he had done wrong. Seeing him like that, you couldn’t help but hug him as he buried his face in your chest.

“I don’t want you to stop loving me…” he whispered with a shaky breath.

Once he calmed down, you were able to talk about what had happened and why you had been acting that way, and he told you that you were the only one for him.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa

[decay-1]

GIGGLES i fear i've fallen under the james sunderland curse how did this happen... sighs wistfully. you ever see a guy and just want to pet and brush back some of his hair out of his eyes? i think he might just melt if his s/o did that without much warning. the casual physical affection... <3

Hi its like 3am but time is a construct so here u go babe

Words: 867

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James’ lips moved as he spoke—probably about work, or maybe something to do with your shared house—but you wouldn’t know. You’d been too focused on admiring his handsome features, the ones you’d never get tired of, to really hear a word he was saying. His words were coming in one ear and going straight out the other, drowned out by the quiet joy of just… looking at him.

You’d always found it amusing how much he talked with his hands. Each gesture made a smile tug at your lips, just one more thing about him you adored. How he hadn’t noticed you weren’t paying attention by now was a mystery, but you weren’t complaining. It just gave you more time to daydream about him, something you still loved doing even after all these years together. Every day with him brought a new spark of excitement, no matter how long you’d been by his side.

Your gaze drifted over his nose, and you found yourself remembering how you’d trace its outline at night, lulling him to sleep with gentle fingers. Then, your eyes dropped to his lips—soft, but just a bit flaky from the cold. They had a taste you were sure you’d never find in anyone else. You let your gaze trace the line of his jaw, the one you’d grab out of nowhere sometimes just to pull him in for a short, sweet kiss, leaving him flustered and stammering as he was caught off guard every time.

But then, your attention fell on his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. You’d never get over them.

That pale shade of blue could send your heart racing with a single look, a blue so deep it reminded you of the ocean, the ones you fell in love with all those years ago. Every time his eyes locked with yours, it brought you back to the day you met, and to the moment you knew you were in love. You could feel electricity shoot through your veins, your heart beating faster, skipping like it might just burst from all the affection.

Without realizing it, you grinned with a love-sick expression, your eyes half-lidded as you rested your chin on your hand. You nodded absently at whatever James was saying, even though you hadn’t heard a word in the last few minutes.

Then, your gaze wandered to the blond streaks in his hair, soft strands that always seemed to fall into his face and cover those beautiful eyes you adored so much. It was then that James finally seemed to realize you weren’t paying attention. He raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together, giving you a look of mock-disappointment. His mouth moved again, probably calling you out for zoning out.

But you still didn’t hear him.

Instead, you frowned a little and tilted your head, watching as more of those golden strands fell into his face. Without thinking, you reached up toward him. James followed the movement of your hand with his eyes, looking a little confused but not objecting. He never did.

Gently, you brushed the soft strands out of his eyes, smiling to yourself. But even as you did, you didn’t move your hand right away. You just stayed there for a moment, gazing into his eyes now that nothing was in the way, taking in his face with a small, contented smile.

“There,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. Your nose almost touched his as your hand dropped back to your lap.

James’ eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as the blush started to creep up his neck. He blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened. The warmth of your touch lingered on his forehead, sending little shocks of electricity through him, and before he knew it, his entire face was burning. It was such a simple gesture, but from you? It was enough to completely short-circuit his brain.

He stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind scrambling to come up with something to say. “W-What… what was that for?” he stammered after a few failed attempts, his voice a little shaky.

But you didn’t answer, still lost in the warmth of the moment.

Flustered, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but all it did was make more hair fall into his face. You burst into laughter, your protest coming out between giggles, “Hey!”

He snorted at your reaction, shaking his head with a soft chuckle of his own. He couldn’t help it—he loved that laugh of yours. He looked back at you, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other, grinning like fools, your eyes filled with the kind of love that never really fades. The kind that only grows stronger.

Sure, James would probably ruin the moment by saying something awkwardly cheesy in the next few seconds—that was just part of who he was—but that was another thing you loved about him. For now, you were happy to sit in the quiet comfort of his presence, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you both.

[reveriebae]

Love Overdose

pairing(s) : Park Seonghwa x reader

word count : 7946

genre : smut

summary : seonghwa’s been burned before and swears he’ll never fall for anyone again. But when he meets you, he decides to make you fall for him first—playing mind games, teasing you, and letting you get obsessed. Only then will he let himself care.

warning(s) : dom!Seonghwa, sub! reader, Seonghwa is pushing and pulling, unprotected sex, begging, oral, cunnilingus(?), slight hand job, edging, creampie. Let me know if I missed something!

Part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

It started subtly—just enough to get under your skin without you realizing it.

Seonghwa had always been careful, always in control. Love had ruined him before, and he had sworn never to let himself fall first again. But when he saw you for the first time, something shifted. A spark. An ache. A temptation.

He refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he turned it into a game.

At first, he was polite—charming in that effortless way that made him so damn magnetic. He wasn’t too obvious, never too eager. He let you come to him. And when you did, when you found yourself drawn in by the way he spoke, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long, he gave you just enough to make you want more.

The first time he called you late at night, his voice was smooth, dripping into your ear like honey. “Can’t sleep?” he murmured, low and intimate.

You didn’t even question why he was calling you. It felt natural—Seonghwa had a way of making things feel that way. You talked for hours, your laughter soft, your voice laced with sleep. And just when you started to feel comfortable, just when your heart started to flutter at the sound of his deep, soothing voice, he ended the call with a teasing chuckle.

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

The next day? He barely acknowledged you.

You caught glimpses of him—passing by in the hallway, standing with friends, laughing at something on his phone. But he never looked your way. Never acted like he had spent the night making you feel special.

It made no sense.

The second call came a few nights later.

“Missed me?” His tone was playful, edged with something darker.

You had missed him, though you wouldn’t admit it. He spoke to you like you were the only person in the world, his voice warm, teasing, addictive. He asked about your day, hummed in amusement at your stories, flirted just enough to make your stomach flip.

But again—when you saw him the next day? Nothing. Not a glance, not a word.

It drove you insane.

You didn’t understand it. Every time he spoke to you, you felt like he was pulling you deeper, making you feel something real. But then he shut you out like none of it ever happened. It was like he wanted you on the edge of something—something just out of reach.

And the worst part? It was working.

You started thinking about him more than you should. Wondering when he’d call again. Replaying his words in your mind. Craving his attention, even when you told yourself you didn’t care.

Seonghwa could see it. He could see the way you started watching him when you thought he wouldn’t notice. The way you hesitated before walking past him, waiting—hoping—he would acknowledge you.

He smirked to himself.

You were already getting hooked.

And he hadn’t even touched you yet.

The first time you confronted him, Seonghwa nearly laughed.

You had been patient—painfully so. But patience had limits, and yours had finally snapped.

He was leaning against the wall in the dimly lit hallway, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world. That same air of effortless confidence, that infuriating calmness. Like he hadn’t been calling you late at night, whispering things that made your heart race. Like he hadn’t been slowly pulling you deeper into whatever twisted game he was playing.

You marched straight up to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “What the hell is your problem?”

Seonghwa barely looked up.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his thumb lazily scrolling across his screen.

That infuriating, dismissive reaction made your blood boil.

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me,” you snapped, stepping closer. “You call me in the middle of the night, you talk like—like I actually mean something to you, and then you act like I don’t even exist during the day? What kind of sick game are you playing?”

Seonghwa finally lifted his gaze, dark eyes locking onto yours. There it was—that look. Amusement. Amusement at you. Like he had been waiting for this moment. Like he wanted you to get mad.

His lips curled into a slow smirk. “Oh?” he mused, pushing his phone into his pocket. He tilted his head slightly, watching you like a predator watches its prey. “You’ve been thinking about me that much, sweetheart?”

Your stomach twisted.

You had walked straight into his trap.

The realization hit too late. Seonghwa was already moving, stepping into your space with that unbearable confidence, that smooth, deliberate grace that made your pulse stutter.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he murmured, his voice just low enough to make your breath hitch.

You took a step back instinctively, but his hand shot out, catching your wrist.

Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs.

Seonghwa studied you for a moment, his grip light but firm. His thumb brushed against your skin absently, almost like he was testing something. Testing you.

And then, as if he hadn’t just trapped you against the wall, as if he hadn’t just sent your mind spiraling into chaos—he let go.

Stepped back.

Shrugged.

“Relax, Y/N,” he said, his tone almost teasing. “I was just having a little fun.”

He turned to walk away.

Your nails dug into your palms.

Seonghwa paused, glancing over his shoulder. That smirk was still there, sharp and knowing. “Don’t be too upset, sweetheart.” His voice dropped just enough to make your skin prickle. “I’ll call you tonight.”

Then he was gone.

And you were left standing there—seething, confused, and somehow, desperately waiting for your phone to ring.

That night, you hated yourself for how quickly you reached for your phone the moment it buzzed.

His name flashed on the screen. Seonghwa.

You hesitated. You shouldn’t answer. You should make him wait this time, make him feel the same frustration he put you through. But your fingers moved before your brain could catch up, swiping the call open.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “…What?”

A low chuckle. “Aww, sweetheart. You sound upset.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Slow, rich, dripping with amusement. Like he already knew exactly how much you had been thinking about him.

You gritted your teeth. “I should hang up.”

“But you won’t.”

Your breath hitched.

There was a rustling sound on his end, like he was shifting, settling in somewhere comfortable. “You’ve been waiting for my call, haven’t you?” His voice dropped, honey-smooth. “Spent all day thinking about me?”

You refused to answer.

Seonghwa hummed. “That’s cute.”

Your grip tightened around the phone. “You’re an asshole.”

“Mmm. Am I?” A soft exhale, almost like a sigh. “But I bet you’re in bed right now. Lying there, holding your phone with both hands, trying not to admit how much you wanted to hear my voice.”

Your pulse stuttered.

“Tch.” He made a small, mocking sound. “I bet you look so pretty like that.”

Your breath grew uneven. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Why are you calling me, Seonghwa?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, like he was enjoying this far too much.

“I told you, sweetheart.” His voice was barely above a whisper now, deep and smooth, seeping into you like a drug. “I just like having a little fun.”

You clenched your jaw. “This isn’t fun for me.”

“No?” He tsked. “Then why haven’t you hung up?”

Your fingers twitched.

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

Then his voice dropped even lower, dark and deliberate.

“Be honest, baby.” The way he said it—baby—made your stomach flip. “Do you want me to stop?”

Your lips parted.

You should say yes. You should.

But you didn’t.

Another chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”

He let the silence linger, letting his words settle in, letting the tension coil around you like a vice. Then, just as you felt like you might drown in it, he spoke again—soft, teasing, devastating.

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

And then the line went dead.

You stared at your screen, your heart hammering against your ribs.

You hated him.

You wanted him.

And worst of all?

He knew it.

The next day, you swore you wouldn’t fall for it again.

You wouldn’t check your phone every five minutes.

You wouldn’t let him get to you.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

And yet, the moment you spotted Seonghwa across the room, your stomach twisted into knots.

He was leaned back in his chair, legs spread casually, one arm draped over the backrest, looking as effortless as ever. His long fingers tapped absently against his knee, his lips quirked in that same unreadable smirk. He wasn’t even looking at you.

Like last night had never happened.

Like he hadn’t spent the entire call pulling you deeper, making your breath hitch, leaving you burning with frustration and something else—something you didn’t want to admit.

Your nails dug into your palms. Asshole.

You forced yourself to ignore him, to act like you didn’t care either. But then, as you passed by, something shifted.

You felt it before you saw it—the weight of his gaze, slow and deliberate, dragging over you like a touch.

You refused to look at him.

But then, just as you reached the door—

“Y/N.”

His voice was smooth, rich, curling around your name like a secret. It sent a shiver straight down your spine.

You froze.

Slowly, you turned to face him.

Seonghwa’s eyes met yours, dark and unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling at the corners. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“You forgot something.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

He leaned forward, resting his chin against his hand, his gaze locking onto yours. The way he looked at you—it wasn’t playful, it wasn’t teasing. It was intentional. Calculated.

And then—his lips parted, and his voice dropped to that devastating, intimate murmur.

“You didn’t say goodnight.”

Your breath caught.

Heat rushed to your face, your chest tightening with something sharp, something infuriatingly needy.

The audacity. The absolute nerve of him.

Your jaw clenched. You opened your mouth to snap at him, to say something—anything—but his smirk deepened. Like he was waiting for it. Like he wanted you to lose control.

You refused.

Instead, you straightened your spine, forced your expression into something neutral, and turned on your heel without another word.

You didn’t see it, but behind you—

Seonghwa chuckled under his breath.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

The days blurred together in a haze of tension. You tried to keep your distance, tried to act indifferent, but Seonghwa’s presence was like a magnetic pull you couldn’t resist. Every glance from him, every teasing word, set something off in you. Your patience was wearing thin, and you knew it.

And then it happened.

You were sitting in the quiet, dimly lit café, attempting to distract yourself with your phone, pretending that nothing he’d said or done had affected you. You were fine. You were so much better than this.

Then, the door chimed as it opened, and the very air seemed to shift.

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

Seonghwa.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you the moment he entered, the way his presence seemed to fill up the space, making everything else around you feel insignificant. You resisted the urge to look up. You kept your focus on your phone, acting casual, but it was like you could sense him drawing closer.

And then—his voice.

“I thought you’d be here.”

You finally looked up, your heart giving an involuntary skip at the sight of him standing there. He was leaning casually against the table, his hand brushing lightly against your shoulder as he glanced down at you, that smirk of his playing at the edges of his lips.

You swallowed, trying to keep the annoyance in check. “What do you want?”

Seonghwa’s eyes darkened just the slightest bit, his gaze locking onto yours. “I wanted to see you, sweetheart.” His voice was low, seductive, like he was savoring each word. “Is that a problem?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. “No, just... annoying.”

He chuckled. “I like when you’re annoyed.” His finger brushed against the edge of your cup, tracing the rim slowly. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

You shook your head, half-tempted to leave the café entirely, but the thought of walking away, of letting him win that easily, burned too much.

Seonghwa leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “What’s the matter? Did I make you miss me, sweetheart?” His voice was almost a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine.

The proximity, his voice, the way he was so effortlessly close—it made your mind whirl. “You think you have that power over me?” You whispered, heart racing, feeling caught between the desire to push him away and the urge to pull him closer.

Seonghwa’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, but this time, there was something darker beneath it. “I know I do.”

And then he was gone. Just like that. He turned and walked away, leaving you there, trying to catch your breath, the weight of his words pressing against your chest.

The game was far from over. In fact, it had just begun.

The next few days felt like you were stuck in a loop, and Seonghwa was the center of it all. The more you tried to ignore him, the more he seemed to slip into your mind, infiltrating every thought, every breath. His words, his smirk, the way he looked at you with that cocky confidence—it haunted you, gnawed at the edges of your sanity.

And then, on one of those nights, when the air was thick with tension and the world felt too quiet, your phone buzzed again.

His name flashed across the screen.

You stared at it for a moment, debating whether or not to pick up. You had sworn you wouldn’t do this again. You wouldn’t fall for it.

But a part of you... wanted to.

With a sigh, you answered. “What now, Seonghwa?”

His voice greeted you almost immediately, smooth and lazy, like he’d been waiting for you to pick up. “I’m thinking about you.”

Your breath caught at the directness of it. You cursed yourself for the way your heart fluttered, for how easily you let him get under your skin.

“What’s new?” You tried to sound indifferent, but it came out breathless, like you were already unraveling.

He chuckled softly on the other end, his tone dripping with amusement. “Oh, it’s new, sweetheart.” His voice dropped lower, quieter. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot... in ways I shouldn’t.”

Your breath hitched. You felt your pulse race at the words, a mixture of confusion and something dangerously close to excitement curling in your stomach.

“And what ways are those?” you forced out, trying to sound unaffected, but failing miserably.

He was silent for a moment, the air between you thick with anticipation. And then—“In ways that make me want to break every rule I’ve set for myself.” His words were slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the effect they were having on you. “You think I don’t know how much you crave this? How badly you want me to touch you... feel me against you...”

Your fingers trembled as you gripped the phone tighter, trying to steady yourself. But every word he said, every inch of his voice seemed to tear down the walls you’d built around yourself.

“You want me to make you beg, don’t you?” Seonghwa’s voice was a whisper now, the air between you so thick you could almost feel him beside you. “To make you desperate... because I know you are. You’ve been desperate for me since the moment we met.”

A sharp breath left your lungs before you could stop it, the heat of his words searing through you. You wanted to say something, anything, to push him away, but it was like your mouth had gone dry.

Seonghwa’s laugh was low, dark, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

You swallowed, the words dying in your throat.

He wasn’t waiting for an answer. He never did. His voice slid over you again, more sensual now, more demanding. “I think it’s time you stop pretending you don’t want me.” His words were practically dripping with heat. “Stop pretending you don’t want me to do everything I said I would. To make you mine.”

Your heart slammed in your chest, and the desperation you’d been hiding deep inside you bubbled to the surface, uncontrollable.

“Seonghwa...” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” His tone had shifted, the sweet, teasing layer now stripped away. There was something darker now, something that promised consequences. “You want me to come to you? To take you?”

Your skin burned at the thought, but you didn’t have the strength to deny it.

“Yes...” you whispered, feeling your chest tighten.

Seonghwa exhaled sharply, the sound almost like a growl. “I knew it.” The words were a mixture of satisfaction and something dangerous. “I’m going to make you regret ever pretending you could resist me.”

You felt the words hit you like a wave, crashing over you in a force you couldn’t fight. The tension, the craving, the maddening desire you’d been hiding from—it all snapped.

You wanted him. And he knew it.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Your body was hot, your mind clouded, and every second that ticked by only made it worse. Seonghwa had left you hanging, lingering in that space between wanting and needing, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

You gripped your phone tighter. "Seonghwa..." You tried again, your voice smaller this time, laced with frustration.

A soft chuckle, smooth and taunting. "Hmm?"

You swallowed. Your pride was slipping fast, and you hated how easy it was for him to pull it from you. "Are you coming or not?"

Seonghwa hummed like he was thinking about it, like he was weighing the decision. "I don’t know, sweetheart." His voice was dripping with amusement. "I think I like you like this. Flushed, restless... waiting for me."

Your stomach twisted, frustration bubbling into something closer to desperation. "You’re cruel."

Another chuckle, deeper this time. "Oh, but you like that, don’t you? You like when I make you wait. When I make you beg."

Your breath hitched.

“Say it, baby. Tell me how bad you want me.”

You clenched your jaw, fists curling in the sheets. It was infuriating how easily he unraveled you, how much control he had over your thoughts, your body. But you needed him. More than you wanted to admit.

And he wasn’t going to let you have him until you did.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. "I want you."

“Louder.”

Your fingers trembled around the phone. Your heart was racing. "I need you, Seonghwa."

A sharp inhale from his end. And then, something shifted. His voice dipped lower, silkier, more dangerous.

"Good girl."

A click.

The line went dead.

And your breath caught when you heard a knock at your door.

You barely had time to gather yourself before another knock echoed through the room. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you pushed off the bed, your legs feeling weak before you even reached the door.

When you opened it, Seonghwa was there, leaning against the frame, his eyes dark and unreadable. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The heat in his gaze alone sent a shiver straight down your spine.

Before you could say anything, his hand was on your waist, pushing you back inside with a slow, deliberate step. The door shut behind him with a soft click, sealing you both into the tension-thick room.

His fingers trailed up your arm, featherlight, teasing. "Took you long enough to say it, sweetheart."

You swallowed hard. "You’re the one who made me wait."

Seonghwa hummed, tilting his head as he stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. "Mm. And yet, look at you." His fingers lifted to your jaw, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. "So ready for me. Just like I knew you'd be."

Your breath hitched. His scent—clean, intoxicating—wrapped around you, and his presence was overwhelming, swallowing you whole. You felt small beneath him, like you were melting under the weight of his gaze alone.

“Seonghwa—”

He cut you off with a slow press of his lips to your temple, lingering just long enough for your body to tremble. "Shh, sweetheart. I want to take my time with you."

His hands trailed down your sides, fingertips tracing over your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. "You wanted this, didn’t you?" His voice was smooth, knowing. "Say it again."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. But you couldn't hold back anymore.

"I need you."

Seonghwa’s breath ghosted over your skin as he exhaled, satisfied. His lips curled into a smirk against your jaw before he whispered, "Then let me ruin you."

Seonghwa’s fingers brushed over the fabric of your clothes, slow, deliberate. Every touch was designed to make you shiver, to make you feel helpless under his hands. His lips hovered just over yours, his breath warm, teasing.

But he didn’t kiss you.

Instead, he smirked as he tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. “You’re already shaking, sweetheart. We haven’t even started.”

You let out a frustrated whimper, gripping the front of his shirt. "Seonghwa..."

He chuckled, low and dark, completely unfazed. "What is it, baby? Use your words." His thumb dragged across your bottom lip, pressing in just enough to make you part your mouth slightly. "Tell me exactly what you want."

Your body was burning, the tension unbearable. He was so close, his hands touching, teasing, but never giving you what you needed.

“Kiss me,” you finally breathed, voice trembling.

Seonghwa exhaled a soft laugh. "So desperate already?" He leaned in, lips just brushing against yours—but before you could press forward, he pulled back, his smirk widening.

You whimpered again, frustration bubbling over. “Stop teasing...”

His fingers traced over your waist, slipping beneath your shirt, just barely skimming your heated skin. "Oh, baby... teasing is the best part."

Your hands clutched his shoulders, trying to pull him in, but he was stronger. His grip tightened around your wrists, pinning them above your head against the wall.

“Try again,” he murmured, his voice velvet-smooth. “Ask properly.”

Your breath was ragged, body arching against him as you bit your lip, struggling against the ache he had built inside you.

“Please, Seonghwa.”

His expression darkened, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. His fingers squeezed your wrists just a bit tighter. “Please what?”

You swallowed, throat dry. He was going to make you say it.

“Please... touch me.”

Seonghwa hummed, like he was considering it. His knee slid between your thighs, pressing just barely enough to make your legs tremble. “That’s a start.”

Then—finally—his lips crashed onto yours.

The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was starving, all tongue and teeth, like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had. His grip on your wrists tightened as he pushed you further against the wall, pressing his body fully against yours.

You moaned into his mouth, legs threatening to give out. He growled softly at the sound, swallowing it greedily as he deepened the kiss.

His free hand slipped lower, fingertips teasing along your thighs before he gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him. "Fuck, you feel so good against me," he murmured against your lips.

Your head spun as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, his tongue flicking against your skin just to hear you gasp. "I love how easily you melt for me," he murmured against your pulse point. "So obedient when you're desperate."

You whimpered again, arching into him, but he still wasn’t giving you enough.

“More,” you breathed, your voice breaking.

Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. "Say it again, baby."

You clenched your fists, shaking in frustration. "More. Please, more—"

He exhaled a sharp breath, his fingers finally slipping beneath your waistband, teasing at the heat waiting for him.

"Good girl."

Seonghwa’s fingers dipped lower, teasing over your heat, his touch featherlight—too light. You gasped, hips jerking forward, but he only chuckled, his grip tightening on your waist to keep you still.

"So needy," he murmured against your skin, his lips tracing the sensitive curve of your neck. "You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? Thinking about it? Thinking about me?"

Your breath hitched.

He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours as his fingers traced slow, lazy circles right over where you needed him most. "Tell me, sweetheart. Did you touch yourself, thinking about me?"

Your face burned, shame creeping up your spine, but your body betrayed you, hips rolling toward his touch.

Seonghwa smirked. "I’ll take that as a yes."

Then, without warning, he pushed his fingers deeper, pressing firmly against the damp fabric covering you. Your back arched, a sharp moan slipping from your lips, and his smirk widened.

"Fuck, you’re soaked," he muttered, voice low and rough. "All this just for me?"

You nodded frantically, but that wasn’t enough for him.

"Use your words."

Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. "Yes—Seonghwa, please—"

"Please what, baby?" He moved his fingers just slightly, rubbing slow, teasing strokes over your heat, keeping you teetering right on the edge.

Your whole body was trembling now, your mind fogged over with need. "Please... don’t tease."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue. "But you look so pretty when you beg."

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down in one slow, torturous motion. His lips brushed against your ear, voice dripping with satisfaction. "Let’s see how much more you can take, hmm?"

Then, before you could even catch your breath, he dropped to his knees.

The sight alone nearly made you break. Seonghwa, looking up at you with dark, hungry eyes, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you steady. His breath was warm against your skin as he pressed soft, teasing kisses along your inner thighs, deliberately avoiding where you needed him most.

Your legs shook, fingers threading into his hair, tugging slightly. "Seonghwa—please—"

He exhaled a sharp breath, his hands tightening around your thighs. "You sound so fucking sweet when you beg, baby."

Then, finally—finally—his lips met your core.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, languid, savoring you like he had all the time in the world. Your body jerked at the sensation, a strangled moan escaping before you could stop it.

Seonghwa groaned softly against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure up your spine. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as his tongue flicked against your clit, relentless and precise.

You gasped, your head falling back against the wall. "Oh—fuck—Seonghwa—"

He hummed in response, his tongue pressing harder, working you open, drinking in every sound you made like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Your legs trembled, the pleasure building too fast, too intense. You tried to shift, to run from the overwhelming sensation, but Seonghwa wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

"Stay still, baby," he muttered against you, his voice thick with lust. "Take what I give you."

You cried out as he sucked harder, his tongue flicking mercilessly over your most sensitive spot. Your whole body tensed, the coil in your stomach tightening dangerously.

"S-Seonghwa—"

He pulled back slightly, his lips slick and glistening, his breath heavy against your skin. "You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded frantically, barely able to form words.

Seonghwa smirked. "Then do it. Come undone for me."

Then his mouth was on you again, working you over with devastating precision, pushing you closer, closer—

Until you broke.

Your whole body tensed, back arching as pleasure crashed over you in waves, a sharp cry slipping from your lips. Seonghwa groaned against you, holding you through it, dragging out every last tremor until you were nothing but a trembling mess in his hands.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were curled into a wicked smirk. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"You taste even sweeter than I imagined," he murmured.

Then, slowly, he rose to his feet, towering over you once again. His hands gripped your waist, steadying you as he pressed his lips to your ear.

"And I’m not done with you yet."

Your body was still trembling, breath shallow, mind spinning, but Seonghwa? He was completely in control—calm, composed, devastatingly sexy.

His lips were still wet, glistening with the evidence of what he had just done to you. His tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, swiping over the corner of his mouth like he was savoring the taste. And God, the way he looked at you.

Dark, hooded eyes filled with hunger. That smug, knowing smirk curling at the edges of his mouth. He knew what he had done to you. Knew you were utterly wrecked, shaking, barely able to stand. And he loved it.

"Look at you," he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. His fingers ghosted over your flushed skin, sending shivers through your already-weak body. "Completely undone... all because of me."

Your eyes flickered over him, drinking him in. The sharp cut of his jaw, the way his tongue ran over his lips, the way his black shirt stretched over his lean, sculpted torso. Even the way he stood—towering over you, exuding raw, effortless dominance—had your stomach twisting into knots all over again.

"So fucking beautiful," you whispered before you could stop yourself.

Seonghwa stilled.

Then—slowly—his lips curved into a smirk, something dark flickering in his gaze.

"Say that again."

Heat crawled up your neck, but you couldn’t look away from him. "You’re beautiful."

Seonghwa exhaled a quiet laugh, but there was nothing soft about it. It was laced with arrogance, with desire. He took a step closer, so close you could smell his cologne, the lingering scent of skin and sweat and something undeniably masculine.

"You think I’m beautiful, sweetheart?" His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "That’s cute."

Your lips parted, breath coming in short gasps. Every little movement he made had you teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing along the curve of your waist, slow and deliberate. "Tell me more."

You swallowed hard, heart hammering. "You’re... you're sexy."

Seonghwa hummed, pleased. His other hand came up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, teasing, testing.

"How sexy?"

Your body was burning now, aching all over again despite just having come undone beneath him. "Too sexy."

His smirk deepened. "Mm. That’s better."

Then, before you could react, he grabbed your wrist and guided your hand downward—down, down, until your fingers brushed against the hard, straining bulge beneath his pants.

Your breath hitched.

Seonghwa groaned, low and rough, his head tipping back for a split second before his gaze snapped back to yours, sharp and intense. "See what you do to me?"

Your fingers twitched, the heat between your legs returning at full force.

"Do you want to feel just how much I want you, baby?" His voice was lower now, thicker, dripping with something dangerously seductive.

You nodded weakly, and that was all he needed.

His fingers worked quickly, undoing his belt with a sharp clink, his zipper sliding down in one slow motion. Your pulse spiked as he freed himself, his cock hard, flushed, impossibly thick.

Seonghwa let out a soft sigh of relief, his fingers wrapping around himself as he gave a few lazy strokes. The sight alone had your knees threatening to give out.

"Touch me," he commanded, his voice nothing but smooth, seductive dominance.

Your hand trembled as you reached out, fingers wrapping around him. A sharp hiss slipped from his lips, his jaw clenching as he let you feel just how hard he was.

"That’s it, baby. Just like that."

Your touch was hesitant at first, but Seonghwa was patient—teasing you, guiding you, letting you explore him.

Then, he groaned, low and deep, the sound sending a violent shiver down your spine. His head tipped back slightly, his lips parting just enough to let out another breathy moan.

And you realized—this was what he wanted.

He wanted you to see him like this. Wanted you to fall apart over how beautiful, how strong, how unbearably sexy he was.

"Does this turn you on, baby?" His voice was a husky whisper now, breath hot against your ear. "Seeing me like this?"

Your fingers twitched around him, and he smirked.

"Of course it does."

He took your wrist, guiding you back, forcing you to release him before his hands found your hips, gripping them tightly. His voice dropped even lower, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"Then how about I make you fall apart all over again?"

Before you could even process his words, Seonghwa was flipping you around, pressing your back against the nearest surface. His body caged you in, all heat and hard muscle, his hands gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let go.

"You’re already shaking, sweetheart," he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. His fingers skimmed along your thigh, slow, deliberate, teasing. "I haven’t even done anything yet."

Liar.

He was everywhere. His scent, his touch, the way his voice alone sent a shiver down your spine—it was all too much, and not enough at the same time.

"Please," you whispered, not even sure what you were begging for anymore.

Seonghwa tsked, shaking his head with that signature smirk. "You sound so desperate. Have I really been driving you that crazy?"

Yes. Yes, he had.

And he knew it.

He pressed forward, his thigh slipping between your legs, his mouth ghosting over your jaw. His lips barely brushed against your skin, teasing, tormenting, never quite giving you what you wanted.

"Tell me, baby." His fingers trailed up, tracing the neckline of your top, playing with the fabric but never removing it. "Tell me how bad you want me."

Your breath hitched. "S-So bad."

"Mm." He hummed approvingly, but his movements remained agonizingly slow. His hands traveled lower, fingertips grazing over the sensitive skin of your thighs, over the heat between them.

Then he stopped.

You whined.

Seonghwa chuckled, dark and deep, his lips finally pressing against your neck in a slow, open-mouthed kiss. "You’re adorable when you beg, you know that?"

You shuddered.

"But I think you can do better."

You whimpered, pressing your hips against his, desperate for anything, but Seonghwa only tightened his grip, holding you in place.

"Use your words, sweetheart." His voice was a taunt, a tease, a wicked temptation. "Tell me what you want."

You swallowed, body burning, head spinning. "I want you to touch me."

"Where?"

Your cheeks burned. He knew where. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You clenched your fists, every inch of you burning with need. "I want you to touch my—"

Before you could finish, Seonghwa was already moving.

His fingers slipped beneath your clothing, finding your heat with terrifying precision. His breath caught, his body tensing for just a moment before a low, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest.

"Fuck, baby." His lips brushed against your ear. "You’re soaked."

You whimpered.

Seonghwa smirked against your skin, his fingers moving in slow, lazy circles, barely applying pressure. "All this for me?"

You nodded frantically, only for him to stop.

"Words, sweetheart."

Your body ached, your nerves screaming for more, for anything.

"Yes, yes—fuck, Seonghwa, all for you!"

"That’s my good girl."

And just like that, he gave in.

His fingers moved with purpose now, rubbing slow, firm circles against your most sensitive spot, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you in place as you writhed against him.

"That’s it, baby." His voice was lower now, almost breathless. "Let me hear you."

You didn’t even care who else might hear. Your body was already teetering on the edge, the pleasure building, tightening, consuming—

"Not yet."

Seonghwa stopped.

A desperate sob ripped from your throat, frustration clawing at your chest as you tried to chase the pleasure he so cruelly ripped away.

"You don’t get to come that easily, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Not until I say so."

You nearly cried. "Seonghwa—!"

He only smirked, his voice a dangerous whisper against your skin.

"I told you, didn’t I? I’m going to make you obsessed with me."

Seonghwa stared at you, drinking in every little reaction—the way your chest rose and fell in frantic little gasps, the way your fingers twitched at your sides like you wanted to grab onto something, onto him. The way your lips trembled, swollen from how much you’d been biting them to keep quiet.

And fuck, if that wasn’t the prettiest sight he’d ever seen.

"You’re already falling apart," he mused, tilting his head as if he were observing something fascinating. "And I’ve barely touched you."

Your entire body shuddered, thighs trembling as you clenched them together, desperate for any bit of friction. But Seonghwa saw. He caught the movement instantly, his smirk curling into something darker.

"Ah, ah, ah—" He tsked, pressing his knee between your legs, keeping them apart. "Don’t be greedy, sweetheart. If you want something, you ask me for it."

You swallowed hard, blinking up at him, completely at his mercy. "Please—"

"Please what?" His fingers dragged lazily up your thigh, making no move to touch you where you needed him most. "You have to be specific, baby."

Your entire body was shaking now, the frustration burning in your chest, twisting into something wild, needy.

"Seonghwa, please—touch me again," you choked out.

"Like this?" His fingers ghosted over the waistband of your underwear, skimming just over your heated skin.

"More," you whined, gripping his wrist, trying to push him lower.

Seonghwa chuckled, effortlessly pulling his hand away. "So impatient," he murmured. "I told you, baby, you don’t get to come that easily."

A desperate sob bubbled from your throat, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "You’re so mean."

His head dipped, lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "You love it."

You hated that he was right.

"But I think you’re ready now," he continued, voice smooth as silk. "Ready to prove just how much you want me."

Your stomach flipped. Your lips parted to ask him what he meant, but he was already taking your wrist, guiding your hand downward again—back to where he was aching for you.

The moment your fingers wrapped around him, Seonghwa let out a sharp exhale, his jaw clenching.

"There we go," he muttered. "Such a good girl, always listening so well."

Heat rushed through you at the praise, and you swallowed, tightening your grip slightly.

Seonghwa groaned.

"Fuck." His forehead pressed against yours for a brief moment, his body trembling now too. But then he was tilting your chin up, making sure you saw what you were doing to him. "Feel that, baby?"

You nodded weakly, breath hitching.

"You’ve been whining for me all night, begging me to touch you, but look at you now." His lips ghosted over yours, not quite kissing, just teasing, taunting. "You’re the one touching me."

Your fingers twitched around him, the weight, the heat, the power of it making your thighs squeeze together involuntarily.

Seonghwa smirked. "Are you getting off on this, baby?"

Your face burned, but you couldn’t lie. "Yes."

His chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle, his fingers curling around yours, guiding your movements.

"That’s my girl."

The words wrecked you. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps as he made you work him, slow, agonizingly controlled. The way his muscles tensed under your touch, the way his lips parted ever so slightly when you twisted your wrist just right—every reaction had heat pooling low in your stomach all over again.

"Just like that, baby," he groaned, his free hand gripping your hip like he needed something to hold onto. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Your thighs clenched. His voice alone was enough to push you to the brink, the way it dripped with praise, with pleasure, with barely-contained restraint.

"If you keep being so good for me," he muttered, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice nothing but a husky whisper now, "I might finally let you have what you want."

Your pulse spiked.

"Do you want it, baby?" He lifted your chin, forcing your gaze on him. "Want me to fuck you like you’ve been begging for?"

You nodded, desperate.

"Use your words."

"Yes—yes, please, Seonghwa," you gasped.

His smirk returned, dark and knowing.

"That’s my good girl."

Then, in one swift movement, he grabbed your hips, spun you around, and pressed your body against the nearest surface.

"Now, let’s see how well you can take me."

Seonghwa’s breath was hot against your ear as he positioned himself above you, a slow, deliberate grind that had you gasping in anticipation. Every shift of his hips sent a jolt of electricity through your body, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. He was teasing you, keeping you right on the edge, dragging the tension out, letting you ache for more.

"Beg for it," he whispered, his voice a seductive rasp as his hands moved down your body, gliding over your skin like he was mapping out every inch of you. He wasn’t rushing. No, he wanted to savor this, make you squirm, make you need him.

You couldn’t hold back. Your body, already trembling under his touch, instinctively shifted against him, desperate for more.

"Please, Seonghwa, just… just give me more," you begged, your voice trembling as you arched up against him.

He smirked, the movement of his hips growing slower, teasing, as his hands found the sides of your waist, holding you in place. "You’re so impatient, baby. I want you to beg a little more."

You whimpered, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you. Every inch of your body screamed for release, but Seonghwa was playing with you, testing your limits.

"You like this, don’t you?" His voice was dark, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips circled against yours, his hard length rubbing against your most sensitive spot. "You love how I make you wait."

You moaned softly, your thighs shifting, trying to find something, anything to create more friction, but Seonghwa pulled back, holding you still.

"Don’t move," he commanded softly, his hand on your hip firm as he watched you. "I’m in control here, sweetheart. You don’t get to move until I let you."

You shuddered, the words driving you wild, the teasing so unbearable you could barely think straight.

"Please, Seonghwa," you gasped, the words falling from your lips without hesitation. "Please, touch me. I need you."

His smirk deepened, satisfaction evident in his eyes. "Good girl." He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, a hard, hungry kiss that made your mind spin. His hips finally pressed against yours fully, the delicious pressure building again.

"You feel that, baby?" Seonghwa growled, pulling back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with lust. He rocked his hips slowly, letting the friction build at a maddening pace. "You like how I fill you up, don’t you?"

The sensation of him inside you, so deep, so slow, was enough to make your head spin. You whimpered in response, nodding desperately. "Yes, Seonghwa, I need more—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled away slightly, teasing you with a long, drawn-out thrust, just enough to leave you aching for more, before pulling back again.

"Fuck, Seonghwa—"

He smirked, taking control again, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head as he began to thrust into you with a slow, agonizing rhythm, each push deeper than the last, sending waves of heat flooding through your body.

"That’s right," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You take everything I give you, don’t you?"

You nodded, your hips instinctively lifting to meet each of his slow, deep thrusts. He had you right where he wanted you, desperate, broken by his teasing.

"You’re mine," Seonghwa whispered, his voice thick with lust. "All mine."

His thrusts began to pick up pace, and the pressure, the heat, the building tension was driving you wild. You could barely hold it together, your body trembling, desperate for the release he was so expertly holding back.

Seonghwa’s movements were relentless now, each thrust harder, faster, until there was no room to think—only to feel.

"Seonghwa—please, I—" You couldn’t even finish the sentence before your entire body erupted in pleasure, a loud moan tearing from your throat as you came undone, your nails digging into his back as your body shuddered beneath him.

He groaned at the sight of you, watching as you fell apart, your body convulsing around him. But he didn’t stop, not even for a moment. He kept fucking into you, hard and deep, until you were begging for him to stop, your voice hoarse with desperation.

"Please, Seonghwa, too much, I can’t—"

But he wasn’t done. He only smirked, his pace relentless, his lips brushing your ear once more as he fucked you through your orgasm.

"Good girl. Take it all. You wanted this."

Your legs shook violently as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, and finally, with a low groan, Seonghwa let himself go, burying himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he came with a soft growl of your name.

For a few moments, you both were still, just breathing, hearts racing in the aftermath.

Seonghwa collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his fingers gently caressing your skin as you caught your breath. "You did so well, baby," he murmured softly, his voice still thick with lust, but with a tenderness that made your heart race. "I’m proud of you."

You let out a soft, exhausted sigh, burying your face against his chest. The heat of his skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, calmed the storm inside you.

"You’re mine now," he whispered again, his hand threading through your hair as he kissed your forehead gently. "And I’m not letting you go."

[jnkgrnde]

— dating hc’s, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — dating hc’s w pookie

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of apollo)

authors note — some of this is inspired by a clarisse fanfic i read the other day w a child of apollo reader ☝🏾

⭑ alr first things first y’all r the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf WALK W ME!

⭑ like when u first got to camp clarisse was v.. she thought u were different but in a good way.

⭑ she expected u to act like how an apollo kid would except u were like 5x sunshinier and smilier.

⭑ when u decided to hang out w her more often after u arrived people were starting to question things

⭑ like how clarisse wasn’t throwing you in the lake

⭑ the only reason she hadn’t done that yet was because she was starting to like having you around, even if she didn’t act like it

⭑ you’d talk to her about your day, spar w her, etc etc

⭑ that was up until the night you realized you liked her more than friends

⭑ you were pacing around your cabin, biting your nails anxiously; when you got to camp, you decided to read about your father, and that included all of his tragedies family wise and love wise.

⭑ you didn’t want to continue that tradition, so you came down to the decision of avoiding clarisse entirely.

⭑ it started becoming noticeable after about two or three days.

⭑ clarisse was more irritable, and people noticed you weren’t around her as much. a lot of the time you’d write in your journal about it.

⭑ whenever you were at the archery range, you’d up and leave as soon as you saw clarisse.

⭑ she wasn’t happy about this

⭑ this had been going on for what felt like forever; clarisse trying to subtly look for you, and whenever she found you you always managed to leave as soon as she was approaching.

⭑ she would’ve never admitted this to anybody, but she missed you. how you would talk non stop about your day and always ask how hers was going. she missed the way you would get shy whenever she called you sunshine because of your descent.

⭑ she ended up having enough when she called out for you at the archery range and you blatantly ignored her, which is how you two got where you are right now

“y/n!”

you cursed to yourself as you started walking the opposite direction, not even bothering to put your bow down.

she didn’t let you go this time, running up to you to turn you around. you had a slight look of anger and fear on your face, and it hurt clarisse to see you look at her like everyone else does.

“why are you avoiding me?” you avoided her eyes. you weren’t really prepared for what would’ve happened when or if she decided to approach you. “is there something you wanted to tell me? any explanation? at all?” she persisted. “i just- it’s hard to talk about, clarisse.” clarisse frowned. you almost never used her full name. “it’s just me, sunshine. just you and me.”

you breathed deep to calm your aching heart. “i like you.”

clarisse stood dumbfounded. “what?” “i have a crush on you, and i was scared to tell you because of my dad and his history with love. i didn’t want to possibly get you killed all because i loved you.” clarisse looked at you for a moment then put her lips with yours.

her hand found your waist as you gripped her forearm. why and since when was she a good kisser? it was getting heated so you pulled away. “why did you do that?” you asked her breathlessly. “we have more of a chance of dying solely because we’re demigods. if i have to die early, i’d rather die knowing me and you were together through everything.” you nodded. “okay.” you whispered out.

“okay?” she repeated. she looked at you with so much love held in her eyes. “okay.” you started grinning.

⭑ let me wrap this up before it gets too long lmao

⭑ to reiterate what i said earlier, yall are the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf

⭑ whether its in capture the flag or just strolling around the campgrounds, clarisse is very protective of you

⭑ i’d like to believe she would steal some of ur lotion n stuff cs u got GOOD stuff don’t ask me how i know

⭑ you’d also help eachother out w ur hair like braiding them for games etc etc

⭑ she loved ur voice btw. like u had a naturally pretty voice bc of ur dad, so she’d love to hear u talk. bonus points if ur one of those ppl who sing peoples names instead of js saying them normally

⭑ it took her a minute to get used to it, but atp she does not care about pda; she’s showing u off whether u like it or not

⭑ okay thats it clarisse is my girlfriend #confirmed

[pixiesfz]

finding her j.r x reader

part of ends with us series

plot: Jill tries to find you

warning: mention of abuse

Kerstin always knew about you.

The entire national team did. You were the girl that Jill lost, her first love.

so when she caught Jill stalking your social media during a team meeting she had her concerns.

“Oi” Kerstin called out to Jill who was opening her car door to leave. Jill’s head whipped around at her friends voice “Kerstin?”

“Have you talked to y/n recently?”

Jill widened her eyes, she hadn’t told anybody that she had seen you or even just been aware of your existence in Manchester.

“Did you see her?” Jill asked Kerstin and she shook her head “I saw you on her socials and then uh I went on her socials and saw she was in Manchester” she shrugged and looked back at Jill “have you seen her”

“Twice”

Before Kerstin could talk Jill interrupted her “both accidentally, her and her girlfriend came to a game and I ran into her at the dog park on Sunday”

“Girlfriend?” Kerstin questioned and Jill nodded “her names Ellie but I don’t know something seems off about her, y/n looks almost scared when she’s near” Jill explained and Kerstin nodded.

Kerstin remembered how miserable Jill was when she figured out she couldn’t help you be safe anymore, your parents locked you in a room whilst she was miles away.

It killed her.

And it was starting to kill her again now that you were back.

“Should we go check on her?” Kerstin suggested “just to see if she’s okay because I don’t think you’ve properly slept since Sunday” Kerstin pointed at the bags under Jill’s eyes.

Jill scoffed but it was true, everytime she closed her eyes she saw you from years ago, bruised covering your body from your parents abuse.

“The way she looked when Ellie called her on the weekend, her skin paled, eyes popped open and her body just caved in on herself. I just hadn’t seen her like that since-“

“Jill it’s okay”

“What if it’s happening again Kerstin?”

Silence grew.

“Then we help her, you’re not kids anymore, we’re adults we have support systems, it will be easier” Jerstin said, her hands taking place on Jill’s shoulders.

And that’s how Kerstin found her way to your work.

But what you didn’t know was Jill visited your home.

And Ellie was there.

When Ellie opened the door Jill automatically stepped back.

“Man city player Jill Roord, what are you doing at my house?” Ellie scoffed and Jill’s eyebrows furrowed “your house?”

“Well technically my girlfriends but you know how lesbians are” she shrugged and Jill fake laughed

“Uhm I’m looking for y/n have you seen her then?”

Ellie smirked “she’s in the bedroom, having trouble to walk at the moment” she answered and Jill had to stop herself from looking at the girl in pure disgust.

“Oh”

“Yeah so you might have to visit another time… or never” Ellie stepped up to the Dutch girl

“What’s that supposed to mean” Jill said, her protectiveness over you now starting to show as she could see the cracks through your girlfriend.

“She doesn’t want to see you”

“She said that?”

“Yeah”

Jill clenched her fists.

She could see the girl lying through her teeth.

“Can I hear it from her?”

“Like I said she’s occupied” Ellie started, now getting aggressively annoyed at the blonde girls presence.

Jill looked behind her at the driveway.

1 car.

“neuken” she muttered u der her breath.

You weren’t here.

She looked back at Ellie, stepping up at her, her head having to look down at her from her height.

“If you’ve touched her without consent, or harmed her in any way shape or form aggressively I will not hesitate to come back here, en deze keer zal ik niet zo aardig zijn.”

Ellie furrowed her brows at the use of Dutch but stepped back at the threat.

Jill turned around and quickly walked back to her car.

She had to find you.

[amourane]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST *CHEF’S KISS*

You deserve all the notes ⭐️ would it be ok to request a post hogwarts with theo? Angst to fluff if that’s alright?

TIA if you decide to do it!!

—🍄

calm after the storm

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

genre: angst to fluff, post hogwarts au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: theo has a hard time dealing with his emotions and you were always there for him but what if one day it becomes all too much.

warnings: it's going to hurt <3

a/n: 🍄 thank you so so much for this request because i read it when u sent it and i remembered it in my exam and i managed to write this banger (i dont know if its word for word but i tried to write as much as i could remember) i just added the fluff at the end. BUT THIS IS FOR YOU <33333

Rain.

It was the first thing that hit Theo’s face when he stormed out of the door. Thick and heavy droplets that fell from the sky, marking his perfect face. They streaked down his cheeks parting into different directions like rivers. The cold sensation enveloped him as he listened to the pitter patter that flooded his ears.

He was angry. He was frustrated. He was livid. The ugly emotion bubbled within him, threatening to burst. It twisted and toiled, shrieked and screamed. It was like a monster, feeding on his anger, waiting to pounce at any second. 

The fight wasn’t meant to escalate this badly. Insults were thrown and meaningless threats were made as the both of you shouted at each other.

The argument could have been solved. The solution simply lay right in front of Theo but he had refused to see it. He had refused to accept he was wrong. You hadn’t asked for much, hadn’t asked anything unreasonable yet he had lashed out. He chose to ignore what lay in front of him and blame you instead. 

“I should have never accepted your pathetic excuse for a confession.”

The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could’ve stopped them. Harsh cutting words that dug into you and twisted with malice. He saw the way his words clawed at the seams of your heart, ripping it to shreds. He watched as your face fell and broke. The once bright smile he always saw was replaced with a heart wrenching stare.

It was all too much. So he ran.

Bitterness swallowed him whole as he thought back to the moment. Festering anger turned into anguish. You had always been so full of joy. Ever since he had met you all those years ago when he watched as you got sorted and skipped to your table with glee. You were so beautiful, so kind, so pure. Your eyes would always look at him with so much adoration and love. Theo loved you more than he could imagine. 

Then the fight would resurface. It overtook his honeyed memories of you like an infectious plague, tainting the sweet thoughts. They replaced your beautiful smile with a heartbroken expression. Your eyes, that he was so used to seeing filled with love, looked at him with incredulous horror. The sight haunted him.

Rain brought Theo back to the present. The thunderous clap resounded through his ears. At first, he had wanted to run far away but he only found himself able to walk so far before his feet refused to move. He stayed stuck to the ground as he felt the rain wash over him. Theo didn’t care what others thought, didn’t care if the passersby looked at him oddly.

All he cared about was you.

Theo didn’t know how long he stayed outside letting the water rush over his body. He simply stood. Time seemed to pass slowly as he tried to remind himself of your laughter and smiles. He forced himself to forget about what had happened but he couldn’t. The memories were constant, a never ending cycle that would taunt him. 

The rain slowed and eventually stopped. The dull grey clouds cleared to reveal the peaceful sky as if nothing had happened. 

Even though the sun beamed down on Theo he still felt the endless rivers that ran down his cheeks. He still felt the streaks of water as they rolled down his face. The tears didn’t stop as he stood there.

The streets were still damp, the scent of rain hanging in the air. Theo felt a gentle touch on his arm and he flinched, spinning around to meet your worried gaze. Your voice, soft and full of concern, broke through the haze. 

“Theo, you’re soaked. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned to face you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. The moment his gaze met yours, the dam broke. Sobs racked his body, and he fell into your arms, clutching you as if you were his lifeline.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out between sobs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just so angry, and I took it out on you. I was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

You held him tighter, your touch soothing him. He continued to cry, unable to stop the tears as they continued to fall. The guilt ate him up inside, gnawed at his conscience, continuously banging on the iron bars that he kept his heart behind.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You whispered, stroking his wet hair. “It’s okay, Theo. We’ll get through this.”

Your words broke him even more. You were so kind. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your kindness. You had always been the understanding one, the one to resolve fights, the one who would reach out and tell him it’ll be okay. Theo knew he had a problem with his emotions, he knew that he had a hard time expressing how he felt. You knew it too. He would always be grateful for the way that you still stuck by him despite everything. 

“I hurt you. I said such horrible things. How can you even look at me?” He whispered against you, his voice cracking. His throat was dry and hoarse from the crying and he pulled away to look at you. His vision was blurry but he could still make out your beautiful features.

You cupped his face in your hands, wiping away the tears with your thumbs. “Because I love you, Theo. We’ve had our fights, but this…this is something we can fix. We just need to talk and understand each other.”

Theo could only watch as you smiled despite the fact tears were spilling from your eyes too. He felt the emotions whirl in his mind.

“I love you so much Y/n. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m such a bad boyfriend. I’m so sorry. I never meant any of it. I love you so much, so so much.” He hugged your body tight, trying to grasp onto the warmth you always provided him with. “Can we - can we start over?”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Yes, Theo. We can start over. But first, let’s get you out of these wet clothes and somewhere warm.”

The two of you walked back to your apartment, your hand holding his as you led him inside. No words were said as you helped him dry off, grabbing new clothes so he didn’t fall sick from the rain. Each touch that you left filled his cold body with warmth. He pulled you towards him, embracing you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispered against your hair. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

You held him tighter, making sure that he knew that you would always be there for him, making sure that he felt all of your love and comfort.

“I would never give up on you.” You breathed out a sigh as your hands massaged his back. “We’ll get through this, just like how we got through everything else.”

The two of you stayed in silence, letting the day pass by. No words needed to be exchanged as the both of you enjoyed the comfort of each other's love. Theo knew he had issues. He knew he had problems. Yet as long as you stayed by him he knew that life wouldn’t be so bad.

[quizzicalwriter]

i literally understand if u don’t do this request but dally coming home in a rly bad mood to femreader n being rough like spanking choking 🤧

Mercy

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Believe it or not Dallas had his fair share of patience, but you’d managed to wear it thin - imagine that.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Choking, hair-pulling, fingering, blowjobs, overall rough sexual themes.

A/N: Thank you for the request and the kind words! And I absolutely write things like this, so don’t worry!

Word Count: 3.4k

You weren’t normally possessive over Dallas. Alright, that was a lie. Usually, you weren’t overly possessive, but some women made it difficult. You could be at a house party, out with the guys, it wouldn’t matter if his arm was around your waist - some woman would inevitably ogle at him and you’d have to drape yourself over him like some makeshift blanket to get them to look away.

Dallas always shot them down, something that made you feel secure whenever you saw it. Most of the time he was too busy with whatever had caught his attention to give anyone the time of day, unless it happened to be you or the guys. He never faulted you for your possessive nature, he was the same damn way - only the last time a guy had flirted with you in front of him it’d nearly resulted in a fistfight.

You’d been hoping that tonight would be normal, a fun night with the guys in Buck’s shooting the shit and getting tipsy on whatever was available. For the most part, it was, you’d had enough to drink to feel slightly tipsy, and you’d somehow beaten Two-Bit in a round of pool. But as always, people flooded through the front door. With the crowd came a few women, most of whom had come with a man and stuck clear to their side throughout the night.

One, however, did not. She was pretty, pretty enough for two of the guys to notice her and give her a cunning smile, whistling obscenities that would’ve made anyone unused to their behavior blanch in embarrassment. She simply waved them off, eyes flickering over to Dallas for a moment as she bit at her bottom lip. In his defense, Dallas had been completely focused on keeping score for the current game, seeing as how he had nearly twenty dollars bet on Johnny to win.

You’d seen it, and that was enough in your mind. As soon as her eyes flitted over to you, you gave her a feigned smile, hand immediately moving over the front of Dallas’s jeans where you grabbed him through the denim. His legs jerked closed, eyebrows furrowing in both frustration and irritation as he looked over to you for having scared the shit out of him. The woman looked away, a faint blush painting itself over her features, so you considered yourself victorious.

“The hell you grabbin’ my dick for?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, but soon slipping into soft laughter as he followed your gaze to the woman who now faced the bar. “Jealous? Really?”

You had no defense of your actions, but seeing as how you hadn’t pissed him off you gave him a shrug in response. Your nonchalance on the subject made him roll his eyes, soon returning his attention to the game, although he kept his hand fixed on your upper thigh as he kept score. You’d scooted closer to him on the couch, draping one of your legs over his as you switched your attention between the crowd and the game, soon forgetting all about the woman as the rambunctious nature of the guys picked up once more.

Somehow Dallas’d won nearly thirty bucks off of Johnny, finding himself seriously proud of the kid as he continuously beat everyone around him at pool - even you found yourself amazed, although you found yourself more preoccupied with your current sitting position on Dallas's lap and how his hands held you steady.

After Dallas had collected his winnings he returned his attention to you, circling his arm around your middle as the guys dispersed into the crowd or over to the bar. During the games Dallas’d jerked on the couch, or slipped his hand higher along your thigh whenever it grew tense - so it was safe to say you were painfully horny.

“Can’t believe he won so many times.” He laughed out, snapping you out of your daze. You huffed out a laugh, nodding at his words even though you hadn’t a clue what the man was on about, something he caught onto quickly. “Tunin’ me out?”

“No.” You responded, tone a bit more snippy than you’d meant for. He furrowed his brow, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin as he patted at your thigh, pulling your attention back to him with a hushed, “You have an attitude.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have an attitude if you’d do something about it.” You’d huffed out, eyes rolling with your words as you shifted on his lap. Not the smartest thing you’d ever said, but you blamed it on the two drinks you’d had earlier in the night even though they no longer had any bearing on your judgment, but you had to have an excuse, right?

“Excuse me?” Dallas asked through a laugh, hand moving up to cup your chin as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “Want to say that again?”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly as your thighs clenched together, all too aroused at the sudden rough nature of Dallas’s actions. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes flitting to where the guys stood against the bar. Within a second he had you up on your feet, hand grasping your waist tightly as he led you to the stairs.

You’d opened your mouth to defend your actions, worried you’d pissed him off, but before you could utter a single word Dallas’d pulled you into his bedroom.

“No.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he motioned to the floor. “Get on your knees, doll.”

The cold wooden boards bit at your knees through the frayed denim, making you wince inwardly as you settled yourself onto your knees. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the sheer arousal coursing through your body at the way Dallas was treating you, causing your thighs to clench together as you fumbled with your hands in your lap.

“Expect me to do all the work?” He laughed out, shaking his head as he began unfastening his belt. You quickly moved, pushing his hands away as you undid his belt, tossing the leather to the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. You could feel him straining against the denim, cock twitching with each brush of your hand against the front of his pants.

As you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers he cupped your jaw, eyes softer than they had been previously as his thumb brushed against your lower lip with a whispered, “You want this?”

You nodded, a soft smile upon your lips as you rested your cheek against his touch. He returned your smile, giving your cheek a quick pat before threading his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a gentle tug as his other hand grasped his cock, pressing the tip to your lips. Your eyes fixed on his as you pressed a kiss to his tip, shifting your legs ever so slightly as you took him into your mouth.

The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue, causing your cunt to ache as you leaned forward on your knees, taking him farther into your mouth as your eyes stayed trained on him. His grip on your hair never faltered, even as his eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip. He wanted to see his cock buried in your throat, to see you choke on him.

“Crazy how all that attitude goes away when you’ve got my cock down your throat.” He remarked, tutting afterward as he slowly inched his hips forward, a soft groan emanating from his chest as you struggled to take him deeper. “This what you needed, doll?”

All you could do was blink, eyes watering as your gag reflex instinctively kicked in. He didn’t waver, instead tightening his hold on your hair until your hand tapped against his thigh. As soon as he felt your tap against his thigh he pulled away, a string of your saliva connecting you to his cock as you caught your breath. Ragged breaths filled your lungs as you nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes.”

He smiled down at you, a proud look on his face as you opened your mouth. He guided himself back to your mouth, slapping his tip against your tongue before pushing forward. You hummed around him, hands held behind yourself as spit dribbled onto your chest. He gave you time to adjust, free hand raising to cup your jaw as he pushed his hips forward.

You choked back your cough as you took him down your throat, tongue laving the underside of his cock before moving to bob your head. He met your movements with eager thrusts of his hips, groans falling past his lips as his pace picked up, all sense of kindness falling away at the feeling of you choking around his cock.

His hold on your hair tightened, using it to control your movements as he continued fucking your mouth, watching in lust-stricken awe as your eyes watered, yet remained focused on him. He could feel his orgasm building, cock twitching against the soft warmth of your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Fuck, fuck-“ He hissed, abruptly pulling out as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cum as he listened to the sounds of you desperately catching your breath. With a deep intake of air, he nodded toward the bed, voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon, get on the bed.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, scurrying to your feet as your hand absentmindedly wiped at your mouth and chest. As you moved onto the bed you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiping your throat free of spit and pre-cum before tossing it to the floor. You watched with bated breath as Dallas approached you, cock twitching against his stomach as he turned you over onto your stomach, a groan sounding from within his chest as you immediately arched your back.

He grabbed a pillow from behind you, placing it underneath your hips before moving to remove your jeans and underwear, trailing his fingers along the folds of your cunt once he’d removed both articles of clothing. You pushed back into his touch, cheek pressed to the chilled mattress, craving his warmth. He pushed two of his fingers into you, watching with a smile as you rocked back on his fingers, whining his name into the duvet.

“Look so pretty taking my fingers.” He murmured, tone akin to a condescending coo as he pulled his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing. You felt his hands against your hips, pulling you back against him. He swiped his tip along your folds, warm laughter resonating from within his chest at the sheer amount of wetness that covered your cunt, giving you no less than a second to prepare yourself before he bottomed out within you.

The pace was brutal from the start, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lungs as you felt your cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size. His hands smoothed up to your waist, fingers still wet with your cum as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. He was big, big enough that you were sure you could feel him in your stomach. With a whimper you reached underneath yourself, pressing your hand against your lower stomach, where sure enough you felt him - each roll of his hips pushing his cock deeper into your waiting cunt.

The added pressure pulled a grunt from him, his head falling back as he took in a shaken breath. He’d thought you were touching yourself for a moment until he noticed how still your hand was. Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to place his hand over yours, feeling himself against his fingers. The feeling almost made him cum right then and there, making him still his hips as he took in another ragged breath.

“You like feeling my cock buried inside of you?” He asked, tone taunting as he jerked his hips forward again, the movement pulling a whimper from you as you nodded. “Made for it, huh? Made to take my cock.”

You could only whine as you nodded, eyes filling with tears at the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot within you that made your thighs shake beneath you. You were utterly fucked out, something that Dallas found hotter than he ever thought possible. As if sensing how mindless you’d become from the feeling of him fucking you, he grabbed at your hips, picking up his pace in a manner that left you breathless.

You were left sobbing into the bedsheets, hands clutching for some reprieve you’d never find as he bullied his cock into you from behind. The pace was brutal, the feeling of his hands on your hips even more so, and yet you could feel your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper within you with each thrust of his hips.

“Cryin’?” He asked, already having known the answer from your sniffled back whines and the way you wiped at your face with the motor skills of an inebriated person. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, bringing his hand down in a harsh slap against the plush skin of your ass as he continued. “Yet you’re squeezin’ me like you’d die without my cock in you.”

The degradation only made you whine more, eyebrows furrowing together as you pushed your hips back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts with sheer desperation you hadn’t known existed until then. He laughed in response, a deep and toying laugh you’d only heard him make a few times throughout your relationship. His hand smoothed up your back, abruptly pushing down against the middle, forcing your chest to be level with the mattress as he kept your hips up to meet his thrusts.

The angle forced the air from your lungs, tightening your cunt around his cock. You could hear him biting back groans, his hands grasping at the soft skin of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push inward of his cock only forcing more out. All you needed was a bit of friction against your clit and you’d cum, so you snuck your hand between your thighs.

Dallas had picked up on the subtle movement, hand immediately snatching yours by the wrist to pin it against your lower back. You cried out in frustration, but you weren’t frustrated enough to move away from his cock. He let out a condescending “awe,” jerking his hips forward in a manner that all but bruised your cervix.

“Think you can cum after bein’ a brat?” He grunted out, laughter fueled by disbelief falling from his lips as he continued fucking you. You nodded, pleasure-fueled tears falling past your eyes as you struggled against his hold, needing to touch yourself so badly that it hurt. “Gotta earn it, doll.”

You didn’t argue, knowing any form of rebuttal would only garner further frustration on your part. You pushed your hips back, pressing your face against your forearm as you whined against your damp flesh, the slick sound of you fucking yourself back into his cock echoing throughout the room, paired with his self-satisfied laughter as he grabbed onto your hip with his free hand.

The pleasure was nearly blinding, just enough to have you careening on the edge as his tip brushed against your g-spot with each perfect roll of his hips. He wasn’t mean enough to make you do all of the work, but he was mean enough to watch you whimper into your arm with a smile on his face as you struggled to keep up with his pace.

You reached down between your legs, fingers splaying against the underside of his cock each time he’d pull out, earning you a cut-off groan as his hand released your wrist in favor of holding onto the curvature of your waist. You could feel each vein beneath the pads of your fingers, slick with your fluids.

“C’mon, doll.” He grunted out, voice hoarse from self-restraint. “Touch yourself, cum with me.”

You nodded against the bedspread, tears partially blinding you as you moved your hand to your clit, swirling your fingers around the slick and hardened bud as he fucked himself into you. You didn’t need much friction to build your orgasm, having already teetered on the edge for the better part of twenty minutes. As soon as your fingers circled your clit you were left sobbing into the mattress, cunt spasming around his length as he thrusted into you, his hands tightened their hold as he grunted out words of praise that were lost on your pleasure-ridden mind.

You’d hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he bent over your slumped form, looping his forearm around your neck before leaning back up, all but impaling you on his cock as he resumed his brutal pace. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, babbled out whines falling from your lips as you held onto his forearm, letting him use you.

The closer he got to his orgasm the tighter his hold got, his lips pressed against your temple as he grunted out words, each praise and degradation going straight to your still oversensitive cunt. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, air becoming harder to take in as his hold around your throat tightened.

“So fucking tight, doll.” He grunted, a low groan of your name following as his hips jerked forward, warmth following the thrust as he painted your cunt white with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling, noise in tandem with another moan on his part as he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting the one around your throat fall to his side. You sagged against him, taking in a ragged breath as his cock twitched within you.

“Hey-“ He started, lifting his hand to tilt your jaw back, meeting your bleary gaze with nothing but care in his. “You alright?”

You nodded, wetting your lips as you continued to slow your breathing, heart still pumping wildly within your chest. He gave you a short nod, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand smoothed over your stomach, still buried to the hilt inside of your cunt.

He shifted behind you then, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he pulled out of you. You let yourself slump forward against the mattress, bottom half a complete mess of cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the sheer amount of post-coital ecstasy flowing through your veins. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten off his bed until he returned with a towel, delicately wiping between your thighs before wiping himself off, tossing the dirtied fabric to a far corner of the room before moving back onto the bed beside you.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered, the tone so gentle your muddled mind could hardly perceive it until his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest as he helped you to get comfortable. “Did so good, real proud of you.”

You could only hum in response, shifting your hips as he pulled the covers over the both of you. Thankfully you’d somehow pushed the plush duvet off the mattress during the whole ordeal, leaving you both with a thin white sheet that felt more cool than anything, a genuine blessing against your still-hot skin.

“Did I fuck you quiet?” Dallas asked through a laugh, words immediately snapping you awake as you turned halfway to give him a half-hearted frown. He returned the look, clearly mocking you before leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Messin’ with you, doll. I don’t think anything could make you shut up.”

“Dallas!” You laughed out in disbelief, swatting at his forearm as he chuckled behind you, absolutely pleased with himself for his joke. “Not funny!”

He relented, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as you settled back down in his arms. You’d let your eyes flutter shut, content with the feeling of him holding you so securely to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep, only to feel him stifle a laugh.

“It is funny.”

A/N: This one is LONG. But I hope you guys like it! I honestly don’t mind writing rough stuff, I’ve read and written enough of it in the past that I might as well write it for Dallas hehehe. As always, thank you for the love you guys have shown my work! Any requests feel free to ask them and I promise I will get to them! You can find all my works over on my AO3 account, “Unscriptural.”

[luvbxnni]

the taste of your tongue ★⋆

p - aib!niragi x f!reader

g - alice in borderland (the beach)

w - sexual tension, HIGHLY suggestive, lip biting, choking, making out, mentions of fucking, i don't rlly know if this would be considered a spoiler, but if you don't know anything about aib and are planning to watch it, then this fic might potentially be a spoiler

an - i'm currently watching aib season 2 and i fell in love with niragi ALL OVER AGAINN (which i didn't know was possible) alsooo... my FIRST published fic! lmk what u think <3

playlist - libid0 - OnlyOneOf

wc - 1k

when niragi attemps to test you at The Beach, you don't hesitate to put him in his place.

the night was still, the air cool and crisp with the sound of silent waves crashing against the shore. you stood on the balcony of The Beach, leaning against the railing as you gaze at the remnants of the sunset. the chaos of the day’s games were a distant memory, and here, you found a moment of peace. but that peace was about to be interrupted.

niragi, having noticed you step away from the other residents, walked up quietly, his gaze fixed on you. the way you guys had been basically eye-fucking one another ever since you'd arrived had been gnawing at him since he hadn't found an opportunity to do something about it. and now, seeing you alone, he couldn't resist the chance to approach.

he stops a few feet away, his voice low. "do you always disappear like this?"

you turn slowly, your eyes locking onto him. you hadn’t expected him to follow you, but you weren't startled.

"what do you want, niragi?" you ask, your voice calm.

he steps closer, his usual smirk spreading across his face. "i'm just wondering what you’re doing out here all alone. the others are having fun, but you look like you’d rather do anything else." he was testing you, trying to get under your skin, but there was something about you that intrigued him. you didn’t react the way others did. you weren't afraid of him.

"i'm just thinking," you reply with a shrug, trying to appear unfazed by his presence. "do you ever think, niragi? or do you just do whatever you want, whenever you want?"

he lets out a small chuckle. "i don’t need to think too hard to know what i wanna do," he said, stepping even closer, his voice dropping lower. "and i think you want it too."

you raise an eyebrow, hoping to become the one doing the testing now. "yeah? did you hear it from me?"

niragi chuckled and leaned in, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip. "well, you're a smart-ass. i'm sure you can figure it out." his eyes search yours for a hint of reciprocation. "you don’t seem like the type to just sit back and let things happen, so why not prove me wrong? maybe i'll surprise you."

you look at him, your lips curving into a small grin. a surge of excitement filled your entire being just thinking of what could happen next.

you take a small step closer, your body now brushing against his, and for a moment, niragi's confidence faltered. before he could say another word, you lean in, your lips lightly brushing his. niragi's eyebrows furrow slightly, surprised by the suddenness, but he quickly regains his composure. his hand reaches to grip the balcony railing, both to trap you in between his arms and to stabilize himself. he waits for you to pull back or give some signal.

but you don't. you couldn't ignore the pleasure that slowly creeped straight to your pussy when you thought of the impossible amount of things that he'd want to do in this moment.

so instead, you stick your tongue out to meet his in a deliberate motion. you study niragi's reaction carefully; the way his breath hitched when you slowly dragged your wet muscle against his, the way he reciprocated your action immediately like it was second nature, the way his eyes never closed shut; it was as if they couldn't. you half expected him to become a complete monster and take you right there, despite it being the first time officially meeting (which was half what you wanted). but he didn't.

it wasn't until you pressed into his lips in such a teasing manner that niragi lost his composure. the pressure in your kiss was subtle, but it was enough for him to let out a soft groan. niragi was usually the one in control. but this time, he was losing it.

he responded suddenly, his hand reaching up to gently squeeze your neck. he leaned in deeper to carelessly enjoy the wetness of your tongues battling together. you moaned into his mouth, a sound that shocked the both of you. you tried your best not to melt in his arms when his grip tightened on your neck. you were supposed to be the one testing him, not the other way around. but that was hard to remember when he was making you rub your thighs together, so close to making you cum despite him barely touching you.

in one fluid motion, your lips wrap around his lower lip — softly sucking at first, then biting, just enough to send a small spark of pain through him (that he enjoyed more than he should’ve). letting out a breathy moan, he pulls back, breath ragged and eyes filled with both shock and desperation for more.

"you think you can just get whatever you want by seducing me like that?" you look up at him, your voice low and needy. at this point, you couldn't even mask how bad you wanted him if you tried. plus, you weren't worried about trying anymore.

niragi's hand hovered near his lip, his fingers grazing the spot where you'd bitten him. his usual cocky smirk appeared on his face, chuckling at your attempt to take control of him. but he was still too dazed to pull away completely. "you're full of surprises, smart-ass," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, not even trying to hide the growing bulge in his pants.

you took a step back, looking him up and down, biting your own lip as your eyes lingered on his obviously large appendage. you found yourself wanting to continue elsewhere, but you couldn't let him think he had the upper hand. "next time, don’t underestimate me," you say, your tone quiet but final. "and my name isn't 'smart-ass'. it's y/n."

niragi watches as you turn, heading back into the building. he stood there for a moment to watch your hips swing back and forth, not missing the way you turned back to motion for him to follow you. he hadn’t expected to be the one caught off guard tonight, but you… you had a way of making him go crazy in a way he absolutely loved. and now, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to relieve his aching cock by taking you into one of the rooms and pounding you so fucking hard.

"y/n..." he whispers to himself as he follows after you, "i love the taste of your tongue."

[willowsnook]

Hi,could I request a vodka, lemonade in a wine glass pls and ty?

Btw i am OBSESSED with you're writing

i love u

------------------------------------------------

carlos sainz x norris!sister

it's always been you

------------------------------------------------

When your brother Lando was a rookie in F1, you were lucky enough to travel with him to all of his races, taking advantage of your gap year. You’d always been close, so he practically begged you to make the trip each race. Not that you minded; growing up watching him race, you’d come to love the sport yourself.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how much you’d grow to like his teammate, Carlos.

First of all, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. He was always kind and thoughtful, including you in conversations and going out of his way to make you feel welcome.

It felt like a harmless schoolyard crush at first—he was six years older, after all, and your brother’s teammate. But over that season, it became a little more than that. You saw him less when you went back to school, especially after he made the switch to Ferrari, but the feelings always bubbled up whenever you crossed paths. Every time he pulled you into a big hug, his hands lingering on your lower back, and your heart raced. And he kept up with you, always asking about your studies and your new job, his eyes warm and attentive.

Lando had noticed the way his friend looked at you. It amused him, mostly because Carlos would go out of his way to dodge the topic whenever it came up. Despite his protectiveness, Lando trusted Carlos, and honestly, he was rooting for something to happen.

You’d flown to Monaco at Lando’s request for his housewarming party, which, knowing him, was more about having an excuse to throw a party than showing off his new condo.

Hours into the night, you found yourself on the patio with Alex and a few other drivers, the group deep into the latest fake rumors circulating about Oscar potentially going to Red Bull.

“Man, I don’t even know how they come up with this stuff,” Oscar said, nursing a beer.

“If you left, then Carlos could take your seat and return to his one true love,” Charles said drunkenly, his face flushed from the drinks. Lando laughed, looking over at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“Miss me that much, huh?” Lando teased, and Carlos grinned.

“Wrong Norris, bud,” Charles corrected, and the group fell silent. You froze, looking at Charles, thinking you must’ve misheard, but he pressed on.

“Do you think she’ll be in the paddock today, Charles?” he continued, mimicking Carlos’s voice. “What do you think Lando would say?”

Carlos immediately lunged across the table, clapping a hand over Charles’s mouth, and Lando burst out laughing. You felt your cheeks heat up, your heart racing, while Alex shot you a knowing smirk. Was it possible that Carlos actually felt the same way about you?

The conversation drifted on, but Carlos had slipped away inside, leaving Lando waggling his eyebrows at you. After an excuse to grab another drink, you went to find Carlos.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a beer, looking deep in thought. You stepped up in front of him, his gaze dropping to meet yours with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Hi,” you said softly, suddenly shy.

“Hi,” he replied, clearing his throat. He hesitated, glancing around, before he looked back at you with a gentle smile. “I… well, I’m sorry for how that just came out.”

Carlos smiled nervously, setting his beer on the counter, his eyes darting from yours to the floor. You took a steadying breath and decided it was now or never.

“Was Charles just… drunk? Or did he actually mean what he said?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos’s blush deepened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Maybe I haven’t been as subtle as I thought,” he murmured with a shy smile.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step closer, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “So… all this time?”

Carlos nodded, his eyes now searching yours, his voice low. “Since the day I met you. It’s always been you.”

A warmth spread through your chest as the words settled in. You’d dreamed of this moment, but hearing it from him made it all the more real. Gathering your courage, you reached up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. “Well, it’s always been you for me, too.”

Carlos’s face lit up as he closed the small distance between you, his hand resting on your waist as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, lingering, filled with everything left unsaid over the years

“Finally,” he whispered, chuckling softly.

Just then, Lando poked his head into the kitchen with a knowing grin. “So, should I go thank Charles for finally spilling the beans, or are you two going to pretend this never happened?”

Carlos groaned, rolling his eyes, but you just laughed, squeezing his hand.

[movingmusically]

can u pls austin x wife!reader or pregnant!reader?

Word Count: 7,237

Masterlist

All of Us

Married life with Austin had been a dream—mostly. Sure, there were the occasional quirks to adjust to, like his habit of leaving guitar picks everywhere or the way he somehow managed to steal half your blanket in the middle of the night. But those small annoyances were overshadowed by the warmth of being with someone who loved you deeply and made you laugh every single day.

Still, life hadn’t slowed down after the wedding. If anything, it had sped up. Austin’s career was booming, and your own schedule wasn’t far behind. Between your work commitments and his time spent on set or promoting his projects, your days felt like a never-ending whirlwind. Yet, even with the chaos, there’d been moments of quiet clarity—conversations about your future, about the family you both dreamed of having one day.

The decision to stop using contraception had been an easy one, even if it felt a little surreal at first. You weren’t actively trying for a baby, but you were open to the idea. “If it happens, it happens,” Austin had said with that easy smile of his, his hand warm and reassuring on yours. “And if it doesn’t right away, that’s okay too. We’ve got time.”

You’d carried those words with you ever since, a quiet reassurance whenever the thought of parenthood felt overwhelming. But in the back of your mind, you’d assumed it would take time—months, maybe even a year or two. Enough time to keep the idea comfortably abstract.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Lately, though, something felt… off. It wasn’t anything obvious, just a subtle shift you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You felt unusually tired, dragging yourself out of bed each morning despite a full night’s sleep. Your appetite was off too—some mornings you couldn’t stomach breakfast, while other days you found yourself craving the strangest combinations of food. And then there was coffee. The thought of it made your stomach turn, which was almost laughable considering how much you normally relied on it to function.

You brushed it off at first, blaming it on stress or a passing bug. But it was hard to ignore the way you felt during brunch with a close friend one weekend. As you sat across from her, pushing a perfectly good cappuccino to the side, she gave you a curious look.

“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’ve been looking a little pale lately. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ve seen you skip coffee twice now.”

You waved her off, trying to muster a casual smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, I think.”

Her brows knit together, her concern evident. “Tired, queasy, and avoiding coffee? Those are classic signs of pregnancy, you know.”

You froze, her words landing with an unexpected weight. “I—what?”

She shrugged, clearly not thinking much of her comment. “I’m just saying, maybe you should check. Stranger things have happened.”

The idea hung in the air between you, filling the silence that followed. She moved on to another topic, chatting away about her plans for the week, but you barely heard her. Your mind was racing, replaying her words over and over.

Could I be?

The thought unsettled you, not because it was unwelcome but because it hadn’t even crossed your mind until now. You and Austin had been so focused on life as it was—work, travel, settling into your marriage—that the possibility of pregnancy felt like a distant concept. And yet, as you sat there, your hand resting absently on your stomach, you realised it wasn’t as impossible as you’d thought.

Your thoughts drifted back to when Austin had come home for a whirlwind weekend visit about a month ago. It had been one of those rare breaks in his filming schedule, and the two of you had made the most of every second. You’d spent lazy mornings in bed, stolen kisses in the kitchen, and tangled limbs in the quiet intimacy of nights that felt too short.

You’d even joked as he packed to leave again, “Don’t get too comfortable on set. I’ll need you to come home and warm up my side of the bed soon.” He’d grinned, pulling you close and murmuring something cheeky about how he’d done more than warm the bed. The memory made your cheeks flush now, the timing suddenly clicking into place in your mind. Could it really have happened then?

By the time brunch ended, you couldn’t shake the idea. As much as you wanted to dismiss it, the possibility lingered, growing stronger with every passing moment.

The idea of being pregnant was impossible to ignore now. The symptoms, your friend’s teasing comment, the gnawing curiosity—it all pointed to one possibility. But even as the thought settled in your mind, you felt a flicker of doubt. It could be nothing. Just stress. Or something I ate. It doesn’t have to mean…

Still, the thought lingered. By the time you got home that evening, the nagging question had grown too loud to ignore. You paced around the living room, chewing your bottom lip as your mind raced. Part of you wanted to wait—wait until Austin was home so you could do this together. You’d always pictured it that way, the two of you holding hands and staring at the little test stick together, waiting for the result.

But he wasn’t here. He was halfway across the country on set, wrapping up the last few days of a gruelling shoot. And though you knew he’d want to be part of this moment, you couldn’t wait any longer. You needed to know.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you grabbed your keys and headed to the nearest pharmacy. The fluorescent lights felt harsher than usual as you scanned the shelves, your eyes darting between the rows of pregnancy tests. There were so many options—some promising fast results, others boasting extra accuracy. You grabbed a box at random, barely reading the label, and hurried to the counter.

The drive home felt surreal, the little box on the passenger seat seeming heavier than it should. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just a few days ago, pregnancy hadn’t even crossed your mind, and now you were about to find out if your entire world was about to change.

Back at home, you set the test on the bathroom counter and stared at it for what felt like an eternity. The instructions were simple enough—pee on the stick, wait three minutes—but the weight of what those three minutes might reveal made your hands tremble. What if it’s positive? What if it’s negative? What if this is all a big mistake and I’m just overthinking everything?

You exhaled shakily and opened the box, your fingers fumbling slightly with the wrapper. “Okay,” you murmured to yourself, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s just a test. You can do this.”

The seconds that followed felt both rushed and agonisingly slow. You did what the instructions said, placed the test stick on the counter, and set a timer on your phone. Then you sat down on the edge of the bathtub, hands clasped tightly in your lap as you stared at the little white stick.

Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts at once. You thought about Austin’s easy smile and the way he always reassured you whenever life felt overwhelming. You thought about the quiet conversations you’d had late at night, whispering about what the future might hold. You thought about how surreal it all felt—this tiny piece of plastic holding the answer to a question that could change everything.

The timer buzzed, jolting you out of your thoughts. Your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest as you stood up and reached for the test. For a moment, you hesitated, your hand hovering just above it. This is it, you thought. Whatever happens, everything changes now.

With a deep breath, you picked it up and looked at the result.

Two lines. Positive.

You stared at it, your breath catching in your throat. A wave of emotions crashed over you all at once—disbelief, excitement, nervousness, and something you could only describe as pure joy. “Oh my god,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “Oh my god.”

You sank onto the floor, the test still clutched in your hand as tears pricked your eyes. It felt surreal, like a dream you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to imagine yet. You were going to have a baby. You and Austin were going to have a baby.

For a moment, you let yourself sit there, basking in the quiet wonder of it all. Then the realisation hit you: Austin didn’t know yet. The thought made your heart race all over again, but this time, it was with excitement. He’d be home in just a few days, and you wanted to tell him in person. This wasn’t something you could share over the phone, not when it was this important.

You stood up, your mind already racing with ideas. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Austin deserved to find out in a way that was as special as the moment itself. Something meaningful, something that would capture just how much this moment meant to you both.

The day Austin was due home, you could barely contain your anticipation. You had cleaned the house twice, set the table for his favourite dinner, and even spent longer than usual deciding what to wear. The news you carried felt like a treasure burning a hole in your pocket, and you wanted everything to be perfect.

When you heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling into the driveway, your heart jumped into your throat. You hurried to the door, your hands trembling slightly as you opened it just in time to see him stepping out of the car, his bag slung over one shoulder. He looked tired but still so impossibly handsome, his broad shoulders and easy smile lighting up the fading daylight. The sight of him made you realise just how much you’d missed him.

“Hey, baby,” he called out, his voice warm and familiar, the sound washing over you like a balm.

You didn’t even wait for him to close the car door. You rushed down the porch steps and into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. He dropped his bag to the ground, laughing softly as he pulled you close, burying his face in your hair.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion. His arms tightened around you, one hand stroking your back as if to reassure himself you were really there.

“I missed you too,” you said, your voice muffled against his shoulder. You felt his lips press against your temple, soft and lingering, before he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said, his voice a little hoarse as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You laughed lightly, your heart fluttering under the weight of his gaze. “You’re just exhausted,” you teased. “Come inside—I made your favourite.”

His eyes lit up, and he kissed your forehead before grabbing his bag. “You didn’t have to do all that,” he said, following you into the house. “But I’m not complaining.”

Inside, the warm, familiar scent of home surrounded you both. The table was set, soft music played from the speaker in the corner, and the faint glow of candles gave the room an inviting warmth. He paused to take it all in, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice tinged with gratitude.

You shrugged, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest. “You deserve it. It was a long shoot.”

“The longest,” He set his bag down and turned to you, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you close. His lips were warm and familiar, the kind of kiss that made the rest of the world fade away. You melted into him, your hands curling around the back of his neck, your fingers threading into his hair.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded as he smiled softly. “I still can’t believe I’m home,” he murmured, his voice like a warm embrace. “Being away from you… I hated it.”

Your heart pounded as you smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. It was now or never. “We hated it too,” you said, your voice soft but deliberate.

His brow furrowed slightly, the words taking a moment to register. “We?” he repeated, tilting his head as he looked at you.

You bit your lip, a nervous laugh escaping as you stepped back and reached into your pocket. “We,” you echoed, holding up the pregnancy test.

The moment the test came into view, his eyes widened. He blinked, as if unsure whether he was seeing things correctly, before slowly reaching out to take it from your hand. He stared at the little screen, his breath catching audibly, before looking back at you.

“Are you…” he started, his voice trembling. “Are we…”

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes. “We’re having a baby,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion.

He stared at you for a beat longer, the weight of your words sinking in. Then, without warning, a brilliant smile broke across his face, and a shaky laugh escaped his lips. “Oh my god,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “This is real?”

“Yes,” you said, laughing through your tears. “It’s real.”

He let out a breathless laugh, dropping the test on the counter as he swept you into his arms. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re going to have a baby.”

You held onto him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace as his body trembled slightly. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the dampness of his tears against your skin. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.”

“I love you too,” you said, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks were wet with tears, his eyes bright with a mix of disbelief and joy.

“We’re going to be parents,” he said, his hands moving to frame your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. “This is everything I ever wanted.”

You laughed softly, sliding your hands into his hair as you kissed him back. “It’s everything I ever wanted too.”

For the rest of the evening, you stayed close to him, basking in the joy of the moment. Dinner was an afterthought; you spent most of the time on the couch, his arms wrapped securely around you as he asked a million questions about how you’d been feeling, how long you’d known, and what the next steps were.

As the night wore on, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. The secret you’d been carrying was now shared, and seeing Austin’s reaction had eased every worry you’d had. This was the beginning of something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to face it together.

*

The first ultrasound appointment marked the next big milestone, one that felt surreal even as you sat in the clinic waiting room. Austin had cleared his schedule the moment the date was confirmed, insisting that no rehearsal or meeting could be more important.

The two of you were seated side by side, his knee bouncing slightly as he held your hand. “You nervous?” you asked softly, glancing at him.

He looked at you with a small, sheepish smile. “A little. It’s just… we’re going to see them,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Me neither,” you admitted, your own nerves bubbling under the surface. “But it’s exciting too, right?”

“Exciting doesn’t even cover it,” he said, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

When your name was called, Austin stood so quickly that he knocked over the magazine he’d been pretending to read. You giggled as he sheepishly bent to pick it up, his hand finding yours again as you walked together toward the exam room.

The technician greeted you warmly, explaining each step of the process as you got situated. Austin stood next to you, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes flicking between you and the screen with equal parts anticipation and awe.

When the image finally appeared on the monitor and the sound of the heartbeat filled the room, the air seemed to shift. It was a sound so steady, so alive, that it sent a shiver down your spine.

“That’s your baby,” the technician said with a kind smile, pointing to the tiny figure on the screen.

Austin let out a shaky breath, his grip on your hand tightening. “That’s… that’s them,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His free hand came up to wipe at his eyes, and when he turned to look at you, his face was lit with a mix of wonder and joy. “That’s our baby,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Instead, you squeezed his hand, letting your tears fall freely as you both stared at the screen, watching the tiny heartbeat that had changed everything.

That evening, as you sat curled up together on the couch, Austin couldn’t stop looking at the ultrasound photos. He held one up, studying it intently before glancing at you. “Okay, we need a nickname,” he announced suddenly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “A nickname?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding firmly. “We can’t just keep saying ‘the baby.’ They need something special, something that fits.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. “Alright, Mr. Creative. What do you suggest?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Bean,” he said, holding up the photo again. “They’re tiny, they’re cute, and it just… feels right.”

You laughed, shaking your head but secretly loving the name. “Bean,” you repeated, testing it out. “Alright. Bean it is.”

From that night on, Bean became a part of your everyday vocabulary. Austin greeted your belly every morning with a soft “Good morning, Bean,” and every evening, he read stories or played music to your growing bump. His guitar, his piano, even his voice—all of it became a nightly ritual, his way of connecting with the little life you were creating together.

One evening, as you both lay on the couch watching a film, you felt it—a small but unmistakable flutter low in your belly. You froze, your hand instinctively pressing to the spot.

“What’s wrong?” Austin asked, immediately alert.

You grabbed his hand, your heart racing as you placed it where you’d felt the movement. “Just… wait,” you whispered.

A few seconds passed. Then it happened again—a tiny kick, soft but distinct. Austin’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. “Was that…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “Was that a kick?”

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah. That was them.”

He let out a breathless laugh, his hand pressing gently against your belly. “Hi, Bean,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. “It’s me. Your dad. I can’t wait to meet you.”

The kicks became more frequent after that, each one a little reminder of the life growing inside you. Austin couldn’t get enough of them, often resting his hand on your belly whenever he was near, his face lighting up every time he felt a movement.

When a brief press tour took him away for a few weeks, the separation was harder than either of you anticipated. But even from afar, he found ways to stay connected. Every night, without fail, he FaceTimed you, his guitar in hand as he sang softly or read aloud.

"It’s Dad," he’d say, his voice warm even through the screen." Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”

You’d laugh, your hand resting on your belly as you said, “I think they’re listening. They always move when they hear your voice.”

By the time he returned, you were both ready to tackle the next big project: the nursery. The two of you spent hours picking out decorations, arguing over paint colours, and laughing as you assembled tiny pieces of furniture.

“You know,” Austin said one evening as he struggled to attach a crib railing, “I’m starting to think Bean might just have to sleep in a cardboard box.”

You laughed, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Don’t give up now. You’re doing great, Dad.”

He looked up at you, his expression softening as he smiled. “I still can’t believe this is happening,” he said, his voice quiet. “We’re going to be parents.”

You walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We are,” you said softly. “And I think we’re going to be pretty good at it.”

As the nursery slowly came together, it became more than just a room—it was a symbol of the life you were building together. Every little detail, from the fairy lights strung along the ceiling to the shelves filled with tiny books, was a labour of love.

Standing together in the finished room, your hand resting on your belly and Austin’s arm around your shoulders, you felt a deep sense of peace. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, leaning into him.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his other hand covering yours. “It’ll be even more perfect when Bean’s here,” he said, his voice filled with quiet wonder.

And in that moment, as you stood there dreaming about the future, you knew he was right.

*

Still, no amount of Austin’s sweetness could stop the physical toll of late pregnancy from getting to you. One evening, as you were getting ready for bed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and stopped, groaning audibly.

“I feel huge,” you groaned, turning sideways to examine yourself. “I look like I swallowed a beach ball.”

From the bed, Austin looked up from his book, his gaze softening as he took you in. He set the book aside and got up, crossing the room to stand behind you. His hands slid around your waist—well, as much as they could with the bump in the way—and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re not huge,” he said, his tone playful as his eyes danced with mischief. “You’re radiant.”

You rolled your eyes, still frowning at the mirror. “Radiant? Austin, I look like a science experiment gone wrong. My ankles are swollen, my back is killing me, and I haven’t seen my feet in weeks.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re carrying our baby,” he murmured, his hands dropping to cradle your bump. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted. “Sexy? I’m wearing mismatched pyjamas and haven’t shaved my legs in days.”

He turned you gently to face him, his eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and mischief. “Still sexy,” he said, trailing kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. “And for the record, I don’t think Bean cares about your legs.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound turning into a soft sigh as his hands moved to rub your lower back. “Fine,” you said, leaning into him. “You win this round.”

That wasn’t the only way Austin had been taking care of you. On nights when sleep felt impossible—when the baby seemed to think your bladder was a trampoline or your hips ached from the weight of it all—he’d do everything in his power to make you comfortable. One night, after watching you fidget and sigh for the fifth time in an hour, he rolled out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back, steam followed him.

“Bath’s ready,” he announced, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

You let him guide you into the bathroom, the warm scent of lavender filling the air. The tub was filled just enough for you to soak without feeling like a beached whale. As you eased in, Austin climbed in behind you, his legs bracketing yours as his hands moved to rub your shoulders.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmured, leaning back against his chest.

“Of course I did,” he said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You’re growing a whole human. The least I can do is help you take a load off.”

“Besides, I like taking care of you,” he replied simply, his hands moving to your bump as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

As his hands traced soothing circles over your belly, the two of you fell into an easy conversation about names. It had become a favourite topic of late, though you hadn’t settled on anything yet.

“What about Lori?” you suggested softly, tilting your head back to look at him. “If it’s a girl.”

Austin stilled for a moment, his eyes glistening as he met your gaze. “After my mom?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your hand covering his where it rested on your bump. “She meant so much to you. And I know she’d be proud of you, of us. It feels right.”

His throat worked as he swallowed hard, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check. “I think she’d love that,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

The moment stretched between you, warm and tender, until Bean decided to interrupt with a particularly enthusiastic kick. You both froze before bursting into laughter.

“Guess they like the name,” Austin said, grinning as he pressed his palm against the spot where the baby had kicked. “Hey, Bean. You’ve got good taste.”

As the weeks passed, the anticipation grew, but so did the love and humour that kept you both grounded.

*

The due date came and went without so much as a twinge of labour pains. You’d counted down the days on your calendar, convinced that by now you’d be holding your baby, but Bean had other plans. The doctor reassured you that everything looked fine and that it was perfectly normal for first babies to take their time—though they did mention that if nothing happened in another two weeks, they’d induce labour.

It wasn’t exactly the news you wanted to hear, especially since patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit. “Two weeks?” you groaned on the drive home, slumped in the passenger seat. “That feels like a lifetime.”

Austin, ever the optimist, glanced over with a calm smile. “Hey, your mom said she always went past her due date with you and your brothers. Maybe Bean’s just taking after you.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, though his hand finding yours on the armrest softened your mood. “If that’s the case, Bean owes me a big apology for making me this uncomfortable.”

“I’ll make sure they’re on their best behaviour when they get here,” Austin said with a wink, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss. “But for now, you’re stuck with me.”

As the days passed the news of your overdue baby had spread among your family and friends, and with it came an avalanche of unsolicited advice on how to speed things along. Your phone pinged with messages every few minutes, each suggestion more bizarre than the last.

“Your sister says I should try eating spicy food,” you told Austin one evening, scrolling through yet another message as you sat with your swollen feet propped up on the coffee table. “And my cousin swears by bouncing on a yoga ball.”

Austin, seated beside you with his guitar in hand, raised an eyebrow. “What about the one from your aunt? Didn’t she say something about pineapple?”

“Pineapple, acupuncture, castor oil... oh, and Claire suggested a long walk and warm baths.” You let out an exasperated sigh.

Austin chuckled, setting down his guitar and shifting closer. “Anything else?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you scrolled through one particularly cheeky message. “Well, uh… Ashley had a suggestion that worked when she was pregnant with with Jupiter.”

“Oh, this should be good. What is it?” He grinned, giving you a playful nudge.

“She said… sex might help.” You glanced at him from under your lashes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Something about the hormones and stimulating labour.”

Austin’s grin turned downright devilish. “Now that’s advice I can get behind.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way his hand slid to your belly, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles. “It’s science,” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“Science, huh?” His voice dropped, the playful glint in his eyes turning into something softer. “Well, far be it from me to argue with science.”

Before you could reply, his lips were on yours—soft, warm, and filled with all the love and anticipation that had been building over the past nine months. He kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and for a moment, you forgot all about your swollen ankles and aching back.

You melted into the kiss, your fingers curling into his shirt as his hand slid around your back, pulling you closer. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved with yours—it was enough to make you forget, if only for a little while, the discomfort and impatience of these last few days.

When he pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath was warm against your lips. “You know,” he murmured, his voice a low hum, “I think science might be onto something.”

You laughed softly, the sound turning into a sigh as his hands traced gentle, soothing circles on your lower back. “You’re impossible,” you teased, though the fond smile on your face gave you away. “But fine. If you’re so dedicated to the cause, who am I to argue?”

His grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you again, slower this time, his hands sliding to cradle your belly. “You and Bean,” he whispered, his voice thick with affection. “My whole world.”

Your heart swelled, and you reached up to cup his face, brushing your thumb along the curve of his cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your voice soft and full of emotion.

For a while, the two of you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. The discomfort and impatience of waiting melted away in the warmth of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace and quiet joy. In moments like this, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen in love with him in the first place: his unshakable optimism, his unwavering support, and the way he always managed to make you feel like the most important person in the room.

When you finally pulled away, your hands still resting on his shoulders, you couldn’t help but smile. “So, Mr Butler,” you said, your tone light but teasing, “what’s your next plan to convince Bean to make their grand entrance?”

He chuckled, his hands still cradling your belly. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve,” he said with a wink. “But first, I think we should start with a good night’s sleep. You need your rest, mama.”

You rolled your eyes but allowed him to help you up from the couch, his hands steady and sure as he guided you toward the bedroom. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right—you needed all the rest you could get. After all, Bean could decide to arrive at any moment, and you wanted to be ready.

As he tucked you into bed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe tonight would be the night. Or maybe not. Either way, you knew you were in good hands—with Austin by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t handle together.

It was the middle of the night, two days before your scheduled induction, when you woke up feeling... off. At first, you thought it was just another bout of pregnancy discomfort—the kind you’d grown used to over the past few weeks. You shifted in bed, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back ache, but something was different this time. A dull, rhythmic sensation began to spread from your lower back to your belly, each wave stronger and sharper than the last.

“Austin,” you whispered, reaching over to shake his shoulder gently. “I think…”

He stirred with a soft groan, his hair a dishevelled mess as he blinked up at you, still caught in the haze of sleep. “What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with concern. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your breath hitched as another wave rolled through you, stealing your focus for a moment. “I think it’s starting,” you managed, your voice trembling.

It took him a moment to process your words, but when it clicked, he shot out of bed like someone had lit a fire under him. “It’s happening?” he asked, his voice pitching higher. “Like… happening happening?”

You nodded again, gripping his hand as the contraction gripped you. “Definitely happening.”

His reaction was instant and chaotic, a blur of nervous energy as he darted around the room. “Okay, hospital bag—where’s the hospital bag? Car seat’s in, phone’s charged—oh, wait, I need to call the doctor—”

“Aus.” Your voice was steady despite the pain, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched his frantic motions. “Breathe.”

He stopped mid-step, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with a sheepish grin. “Right. Breathing. Got it.”

The contractions were coming steadily now, but still far enough apart that the doctor advised waiting at home a little longer before heading to the hospital. Austin stayed glued to your side, his energy shifting from panicked to determined as he settled into a rhythm of supporting you. Every contraction was met with his steady voice, his warm hands on your back, and the constant reassurance that you were doing amazing.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his tone low and soothing as he rubbed circles over your lower back during another wave. “I’m so proud of you.”

You leaned into him, his presence a grounding force as the hours stretched on and the contractions grew stronger. He timed each one with the kind of precision that would’ve been comical if you weren’t so focused on riding out the pain. At one point, you caught him muttering countdowns under his breath, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

“Relax, Coach Butler,” you teased faintly when the contraction passed, your voice breathless but fond. “I’m not running a marathon.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing something way more badass than that.”

When the time finally came to leave for the hospital, Austin was at your side in an instant, helping you into the car as though you were made of glass. “You know I’m not going to break, right?” you teased, though your voice hitched as another contraction tightened your belly.

His gaze softened, his hand brushing your cheek as he murmured, “You’re carrying my whole world. I’m not taking any chances.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur of flashing streetlights and the steady pressure of his hand holding yours. He murmured soft words of encouragement every time a contraction hit, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your skin. The excitement and nerves hung in the air between you, tangible and electric, but through it all, his love and steady presence anchored you.

By the time you arrived, you were ready—ready to meet the little person who had turned your world upside down in the most wonderful way.

The hospital was a flurry of activity as soon as you arrived, the nurses greeting you warmly as they guided you to a room. Austin stayed glued to your side, his hand firmly in yours as they asked you questions and hooked you up to monitors. The rhythmic sound of Bean’s heartbeat filled the room, steady and strong, and it was enough to ease some of your nerves.

“You’re doing great,” Austin murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. His voice was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened every time you grimaced through a contraction.

Labour was a whirlwind—hours that felt both endless and fleeting, a blur of pain, anticipation, and the steady presence of Austin by your side. He held your hand through every contraction, his voice calm and reassuring as he reminded you to breathe, even when you were ready to throw the ice chips at him.

“Doing great, baby,” he said, his hand brushing damp hair from your forehead. “Almost there.”

You gave him a look that could’ve melted steel, the pain sharp and unrelenting. “You say that one more time…” you panted, gripping his hand hard enough to make him wince.

“Noted,” he replied with a lopsided grin, "I’ll file that under ‘things not to say to a woman in labour.’" Though he didn’t flinch as your grip tightened again with the next contraction.

Hours later, when the time finally came to push, everything else faded into the background. The world outside the room ceased to exist, and all you could focus on was the determination to meet the tiny person who had been growing inside you for the past nine months. Austin’s voice was a constant, grounding you when the pain threatened to overwhelm.

It was his strength, his unwavering presence, that carried you through the final moments. “You’re so close,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can see the head.”

With one final, all-consuming effort, a sharp cry filled the room, cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. The world seemed to stop for a moment as the doctor lifted a tiny, wriggling figure into view.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor announced, their voice warm with joy as they placed her on your chest.

Time seemed to slow, her cries quieting the moment she felt your warmth. She was perfect—tiny fingers, a button nose, and a head full of fair hair that reminded you so much of Austin. Your heart swelled to the point of bursting as you traced her features with trembling fingers.

“Hi, Bean,” you whispered, tears spilling freely now. “Hi, baby girl.”

Austin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand rested gently on hers. You both sat there for a moment, the world fading away as you took in the miracle between you. It was Austin who broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Lori,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “If you’re still okay with it… I think it’s perfect.”

You nodded, your voice too thick with emotion to speak. You glanced down at her, stroking her soft cheek. “Hi, Lori,” you whispered. “Welcome to the world.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The love in his gaze was enough to undo you all over again. “She’s so tiny,” you said, your voice breaking. “And she’s ours.”

“She’s ours,” he echoed, his voice no more than a whisper.

The minutes that followed were a haze of firsts: the weight of her in your arms, her tiny hand curling instinctively around Austin’s finger, the soft, exhausted smiles you exchanged as the world outside the delivery room faded away.

When the nurse came to take Lori for her first check-up, Austin hesitated, his hand lingering protectively on her tiny head. “You’ll bring her right back, right?” he asked, his voice laced with both awe and worry.

The nurse smiled. “We won’t be far, Dad. She’s perfect, by the way.”

As Lori was carried out of the room, Austin sank into the chair beside your bed, his head falling into his hands. You reached for him, your fingers brushing his wrist. “Hey,” you said softly. “You okay?”

He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed but filled with a quiet, overwhelming joy. “I just… I can’t believe she’s here,” he said, his voice trembling. “She’s real. And she’s ours.”

You smiled, your own exhaustion forgotten as you reached for his hand. “She’s everything, isn’t she?”

He nodded, leaning in to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours for a moment that felt like it could stretch forever. “You’re the strongest person I know,” he murmured against your skin, his forehead resting against yours. “Thank you for her.”

You looked up at him, your chest tight with love and exhaustion. “We made her together,” you murmured, your fingers lacing with his. “She’s all of us.”

When they returned with Lori swaddled in a soft blanket, Austin reached out, his hands trembling slightly as he cradled her for the first time. The way he looked at her—his gaze full of wonder and tenderness—made your breath catch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over her tiny hand. “I’m your dad.”

You couldn’t look away. Seeing Austin holding Lori—his large hands supporting her tiny body as he murmured soft, loving words—solidified everything you’d been through together. It wasn’t just love; it was the kind of connection that grounded you, that made everything you’d ever dreamed of feel possible. This was your family, built on a foundation of unwavering devotion and joy.

“She looks so much like you already,” Austin said, glancing up at you with a watery smile. “Same little nose, same pout. She’s beautiful.”

“She already has you wrapped around her finger,” you teased softly, though your voice was thick with emotion.

Austin looked up, his expression unapologetic. “Completely,” he admitted with a small, wobbly smile. “She’s got me for life.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of exhaustion and wonder. You eventually dozed off for a little while, but when you woke, the sight before you took your breath away: Austin was still cradling Lori in his arms, his head bent as he whispered to her.

“I can’t wait to show you the world,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “We’re going to have so many adventures, baby girl.”

You blinked back tears as you watched him, the love in his voice resonating deeply within you. If you had any doubts before, they were gone now. This was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had dreamed of, and so much more.

Austin glanced up and caught your gaze, his lips curving into the softest smile. He came over, settling beside you on the bed, and placed Lori gently in your arms. Together, you stared down at her, drinking in every tiny detail as the weight of the moment settled over you. It was a beginning—a brand-new chapter, a fresh adventure. And you couldn’t wait to live it.

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warning/tags: swearing, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it y'all), use of "angel", sukuna is being sketchy, totally in love with choso, i think the choice is clear right A/N: sooooo slowly falling in love with choso, but things can't stay perfect forever right? (¬⤙¬ ) honestly I just really wanted to write more choso smut bc I'm addicted but like, wtf is up with sukuna now. ALSO someone asked how many chapters there will be, and as of right now I'm ending at 15! but if I get more ideas of the story doesn't feel wrapped up then I'll keep it going until it does.

index part eleven | part thirteen

part twelve word count : 2,146

your sleepover with Choso had not gone unnoticed by both Yuji and Sukuna. after finishing breakfast with Choso, you’d indulged in a long-awaited nap. when you woke up and found him still sound asleep, you thought it was the perfect time for a bathroom break. the only problem? Choso shared a bathroom with Sukuna. 

as you quietly closed Choso’s bedroom door with a soft click, a throat cleared, startling you like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. you slowly turned to see Sukuna standing in his doorway, a hand on the knob, his expression unreadable. 

“you’re… still in your pajamas.” he murmured, his tone a strange blend of question and statement. 

you weren’t sure why you felt anxious; after all, he’d been mia for god knows how long. as you tried to decipher his mood, you realized you were never good at picking up on his cues. 

if you had been, you might have braced yourself for the sudden, loud slam of his fist against the wall.

“shhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips and silently hoping he hadn’t just woken Choso – let’s face it, the guy could probably sleep through anything.

“I think I might throw up.” Sukuna growled, storming toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the walls. you stood there, mouth agape, trying to process what had just happened.

fortunately, Choso remained asleep when you tiptoed back into his room. you decided it was a good idea to wait until he was awake before leaving his room again. 

after that, Sukuna had literally vanished from the house.

two days later, he still hadn’t come home. two days later, and you hadn’t slept in Choso’s room again. two days later… and you were falling in love.

Choso had thrown himself into being attentive, practically anticipating your every need. want a snack? he was off the couch before you could even think about it. feet sore from a night out with Yuji? he’d whisk your shoes off and start rubbing your feet right away. it was like he was made for this; providing you with attention and care without missing a beat. 

now, you lay on his bed while he played with your hair, one hand gently stroking your head and the other flipping through tv channels. you were practically purring with every soft caress, and he adored it. 

“can I ask you something?” Choso suddenly said, his hand still massaging your scalp. you nodded lightly, keeping your eyes closed in bliss. “you haven’t stayed in my room since that night. is it because I did something wrong?”

your eyes flew open as you sat up, your expression softening at the sight of his blush. “oh, Choso, no – you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… thought it might be weird for everyone else if I stayed in here all the time.” and secretly you worried about what would happen if Sukuna saw you leaving again.

“who cares what they think?” Choso pouted, giving you those puppy-dog eyes while his hand relaxed on the back of his head. “do you want to sleep in here?”

you hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at the invitation. “I mean… I’d love to.” you replied, a small smile creeping onto your face. “but what if you get sick of me?”

Choso shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “like I could get sick of you. unless you drool on my pillow again, then yeah I might get a lil sick of you.”

you slapped his arm while your mouth dropped open. “it was the one time! we’d just pulled an all-nighter!” he threw his head back in laughter, the sound like music to your ears. “if I promise not to drool, do you want me to stay in here tonight?” 

“tonight it is!” he said with a grin, relief evident in his face. he shifted to make space for you, and you settled in beside him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.

as you lay there, the soft hum of the tv in the background as the two of you watched netflix, you found yourself stealing glances at Choso. his brows furrowed in concentration as he watched Bridgerton (you’d gotten him hooked), and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked.

if he had noticed you staring, he didn’t show it, but when he reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers you felt a thrill shoot through you. he hadn’t moved his eyes from the tv, although you could feel his body warm at the contact with yours. you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat start to pick up.

“are you getting comfortable?” Choso asked as his hand returned to stroke your hair, lulling you into a blissful state.

“mhm.” you purred as he gave light scratches to your scalp, tracing down your back softly. “but I want to watch Anthony confess to Kate, so I’m not falling asleep just yet.”

“the tension between them has been physically unbearable to watch all season.” Choso groaned and you chuckled at his enthusiasm. when he caught you laughing at him, he pinched your shoulder in retaliation. “I’m just saying, they both have been drooling over each other every episode!”

“you can’t blame them, it can be hard to confess your feelings to someone.” when you realized your words might seem like a jab at him, you quickly continued. “at least in their situation, he’s courting her sister.”

“at least you don’t have a sister I have to get through.” Choso smirked down at you, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “even though it did take me too long to confess.”

the two of you had watched two more episodes, both commenting back and forth about the Bridgerton drama. everything felt right in your world – Choso was softly giving you affectionate touches, you’d gotten him addicted to rom-com tv, and you were blissfully happy. 

“Choso?” you whispered, nuzzling into his shirt. he hummed in response as he set his chin on top of your hair. “how soon is too soon?”

his heartbeat picked up faster under your ear. if you’d been looking at him, you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink immediately. “for what?” he asked.

it was all too easy to get him flustered, and the thrill of it drove you mad. your hand caressed his abdomen, traveling lower and lower, slowly aiming for his waistband. once your fingers danced along the edge of his sweatpants, you felt him tense.

“oh.” Choso breathed, body going rigid as you continued to dip your fingers just below the waistline. “I-I don’t think there’s such a thing as too soon.”

“hm, you don’t?” you teased lightly before lifting your chin to gaze up at him. sure enough, his face was hot and red as he stared back down at you. “do you wanna…”

“yes.” his answer came out as fast as lightning, before he grabbed your chin and pulled you up to kiss you. when his lips met yours, you immediately open your mouth to allow his tongue to spit-swap with yours. Choso groaned as your hand dipped fully underneath his pants to palm his growing erection under his boxers. 

only seconds into teasingly rubbing him and he had flipped you over to land on top of you, grinding his clothed dick into your hips as he panted into your mouth. Choso’s hands worked their way up your top, pulling your bra down to rest underneath your tits and groping at them.

“fuck, I just can’t get enough of you.” Choso groaned as he dipped his head into your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as you arched your back to meet his rolling thrusts. “wan’ t’ make you feel good.”

within a mere minute, Choso removed all of your clothing as well as your own. you’d been too embarrassed to really look at his dick the first time, worried about your own image, but now – you felt warmth pooling between your legs at the sight. his bright pink tip leaked pre-cum already as he pumped himself with one hand, prepping himself before he settled between your legs.

Choso teased your puffy lips with his head, dragging his leaky cock over your clit tantalizingly as he leaned down to capture your already open mouth in his. as he deepened the kiss, driving his tongue inside you, his dick pressed further into you while just the tip has you moaning out his name.

“oh fuck, Cho, you – you’re so big.” you whined as your eyes rolled back, expanding for him as he ventures deeper inside of you. 

just those words have Choso bottoming out with a quick thrust, his balls slapping against your ass just as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “ohhhh shit, angel.” his hips thrust again, giving you every inch. “feel s’ fucking good.”

your mind was already a puddle of mush as he drove into you, every pull and push of his cock driving you to madness. when Choso's hand flattens over your lower abdomen, pushing down slightly, you feel your walls tighten where he was pressing to accentuate every bit of his veiny length. 

Choso fingers moved to press against your clit, making small and absolutely maddening circles that made you whimper. his fingers applied more pressure, eliciting a loud moan of his name from your lips and causing your legs to clench around his hips. his pace picked up faster and faster, until he was gasping for air while he watched you blissed out below him, the sight almost sending him over the edge immediately. 

“yes – hah – please right there.” you’re drooling already, your fingers weaving through Choso’s hair as his eyes fall shut with pleasure. his bicep twitches next to your head, fist gripping the sheets as he uses every ounce of his strength to fuck you just right and rub your clit at the same time. you can feel the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. as your cunt clenches and flutters around him, Choso’s struggles to plow through your tightening walls with his thrusts. 

“that’s it, angel, just like that.” Choso babbles through the pleasure coursing within him, and when you drive your hips to meet his every thrust he just about loses it. “fuck – wait wait – slow down I’m –“

before he can finish his sentence, your orgasm rips through you, electricity thrumming down your veins. your back arches so deeply into the mattress as your pussy contracts around his cock. you’re too high to even form the words to tell him you’re coming, but based on how Choso starts rutting into you, he can feel it.

“ohh – fuck – please. you’re so fuckin’ tight I’m gonna cum.” Choso whines, eyes scrunching shut as his hips become sporadic in his attempt to find his last bit of strength to work you through your orgasm. 

you’ve barely begun to come down before he’s bottoming out, his dick pulsing before shooting your pussy full with streaks of thick cum. you can hear the lewd squelches coming from your cunt as he lazily fucks into you through his orgasm, stuffing you to the brim with every ounce of his seed.  

“shit Choso.” you moan as his forehead settles on yours, sweat slick on both of them. you panted as you looked at him, his eyes fucked out as he settled slowly from his release. 

“wanna hear something really stupid?” Choso whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“wh-what?” you stammered, your heart racing.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m beginning to think I’m addicted to you.” he confessed, a shy smile spreading across his face.

you felt a flutter in your chest, caught off guard. “addicted?” you echoed, a mix of surprise and amusement flooding through you.

“yeah.” he said, his voice low and raspy. “I can’t help it. you’re just… so fucking perfect.” his fingers brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

“so, you’re not going to get sick of me then?” you teased, and Choso swore that as your laughter followed he could feel your pussy walls flutter around his softening cock. 

“don’t get cocky just yet, angel.” Choso hummed in amusement before dipping his fingers between your bodies. “that’s still yet to be seen.”

as you were giggling, your breath suddenly hitched when Choso fingers pinched your sensitive clit. your eyes sparked as you looked at him, a wicked smirk spread across his lips when he began to rub circles around the nub. with one more pinch, he leaned his face down to whisper in your ear.

“might just have to keep testing it.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo that fact that nineteen people have asked to be tagged for this makes me sob tears of thanks .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .