#can’t really feel happy about it when you know

[harryspet]

rough hands, soft chains [3] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, DUBCON, rafe is HUGE, pain with sex, fingering, breeding kink, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

In which you're not sure you truly have what it takes to "accommodate" your new fiancé.

word count: 4.2k

rough hands, soft chains masterlist

“Why do you insist on stealing my fiance?” 

Wheezie looked up at her brother from her place on the carpet. You were placing the last hair roller around her freshly curled hair, pinning it place. The two of you had spent the last two hours giving each other spa treatments, evidenced by the face mask on Wheezie’s face, and the under eye patches on yours. It seemed obvious to you what you were up to but Rafe’s face scrunched in confusion, maybe even annoyance, at the sight before him. 

“We’re having a girls night!” Wheezie protested, “Get out!” 

You blinked, glancing between the two siblings, trying to gauge whether this was actual tension or just their usual back-and-forth. Navigating the Cameron family dynamic was a constant puzzle, and you hated feeling caught in the middle of it. You genuinely liked all of them in different ways.

Well, almost all of them.

You weren’t sure what it was that you felt for Rafe. He seemed to force all the feelings out of you, prying his way into your brain and into your heart. 

“You can’t hold her hostage, Wheeze,” Her brother raised his voice back, “I need to talk to her, you know, about adult things. Shit you wouldn’t get.”

“Adult things, gross,” You could practically hear Wheezie’s smirk, “I’m sure Y/N would rather hang out with me than do adult things with you.” 

The meaning initially passed over your head. You looked at Rafe innocently, “Y/N?” His shift in focus to you made you panic for a moment. 

“Oh, well … we were going to do some meditation before bed too.” 

Rafe’s lips quirked into a smile that couldn’t possibly be genuine, “Fine, just come get me when you’re done.” 

The way he slammed Wheezie’s door shut also gave you the impression that he wasn’t happy. 

“Ignore him,” Wheezie said quickly. You admired her defiance sometimes. Rafe didn’t ever to seem to really rattle her the way he did to you. 

Over the past few weeks, she had become your guide to surviving life in this house. Out of everyone, she understood Rafe best. Sarah barely came around, and when she did, the way she looked at you—pitying, almost regretful—made you uncomfortable. You hated it. You’d rather spend time with Rose, who had taken you wedding dress shopping just the day before, only to scold you for picking something too “revealing.” She’d given you a long-winded speech about modesty and the importance of upholding the Cameron image. You were marrying into an exceptionally wealthy family, after all. You had to act like it.

But Wheezie? Wheezie was simply happy to have you there, to welcome you into her world. And slowly, you were beginning to imagine this as your new life. The thought didn’t seem so terrible when you pictured Wheezie as your sister.

It all came crashing down on you a few days after the incident with Rafe in the barn. You weren’t allowed to sleep in the same bed until you were officially married, Rose’s rule, but that didn’t keep Rafe from your bedroom in the middle of the night.

And when you woke, sore and spent, the weight of something unfamiliar pressed against your left hand.

A diamond.

Wheezie was fast asleep when you finally slipped out of her bedroom. In pink, fuzzy socks, you padded across the hallway towards Rafe’s room. You only knocked once before the door was opened and you were stepping inside. 

In contrast to yours, Rafe’s room was dark and brooding with darker woods and deep navy walls. A sturdy mahogony desk perched in the corner next to a leather armchair. There were no dainty florals or soft touches. His bed, much larger than yours, had the sheets strewn about, a possible indication of sleepless nights or …other activities. A few forgotten whiskey glasses sat on in nightstand. The only source of light in the room was from the soft, yellow glow of his desk lamp. 

It always felt intimate being in Rafe’s room, like you were completely in his world. Your gaze lifted, drawn to him as if by instinct. Shirtless, his toned chest and broad shoulders were carved in the dim light, his presence overwhelming in a way that sent a shiver through you.

“Turn around, darlin’.” 

Innocently, you obeyed his command. You were only confused for a moment. You yelped, feeling the cool air against the back of your legs as Rafe slipped down your long, silk pajamas. 

You should’ve known Rafe didn’t actually need to talk to you. 

Lifting you by your waist, Rafe carried you over to the bed swiftly, leaving your bottoms behind. He always laid you down gently but the firmness of his grip left no room for discussion. He knew exactly where he wanted your body, what position he desired to have you in. You were starting to get used to his routine. He undressed you, placed you where he wanted, and it wasn’t long before he was inside of you. 

Tonight, he wanted you on your stomach, your head resting at the edge of the bed. You didn’t dare look back at him, it always unsettled you more when you caught a glimpse of just how imposing he was. Instead, you kept your gaze forward, fixated on the shadows and darkness in the window. You felt the weight of his legs straddling yours, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your bottom before delivering a few sharp, deliberate slaps. A shiver ran through you as his fingers hooked into your panties, dragging them aside with ease, exposing you to him entirely.

He spit into his hand and you jumped again when you felt his fingers teasing your warm center. For an excruciatinly long time, he placed a strong hand on your upper back, keeping you pinned as he sunk his fingers inside of you. He had called it 'warming you up' the last time. His pace was slow, deliberate. You were biting down onto the comforter by the time his third digit pushed inside. Now, you could happily take two of his fingers. You’d like sex with Rafe much more if it simply involved two of his fingers pushing in an out of you. When he added that circling motion on your sensitive bud, you could reach that beautiful peak quickly. But the third finger was the closest thing he could use to prepare you for his size. 

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet firm, a response to your soft whimpers, “Relax. You make it worse when you’re so tense.”

“Sorry,” You rushed out before you bit down on your lip hard, “Rafe, um, can you…” 

He pushed deeper and you reached out to grab the wooden bed frame in front of you, “Can I what, darlin’?”

“T-Touch me?” You asked, unsure, wincing as the feeling of being stretched, “Please.” 

In response, he adjusted your hips, pulling them up from the bed, still three fingers deep inside of you, before he started to circle your clit with the thumb of his other hand. You took in rapid breaths as you adjusted to the sensation, the pleasure now beginning to mix in with the discomfort. 

“Think you can come like this, baby?” 

“Uh,” You pressed your face into the mattress, your words failing you, and soon all that was left were sobs. 

“Try, baby,” You heard him say, “Squeeze my fingers.”

You had never considered that "down there" was a muscle—until Rafe. Obeying his command, you imagined yourself squeezing his fingers, and the response was immediate. Your body reacted instinctively, heightening your pleasure and pushing you toward release. It was overwhelming. Almost painful. But an orgasm nonetheless. Your first one with Rafe had taken you so much by surprise that Rafe had to cover your face with a pillow to keep you from waking up the entire house. 

Tonight, you muffled your own screaming, pressing your face further into the blankets. He left you no time to recover. As soon as your body was more … accepting, he started to push himself inside of you. Panicked, you reached back to push at his hip, an attempt at requesting for him to slow his pace. He felt even larger in this position, and it didn’t take long to realize he was pressing against a barrier deep inside you.

You had to accommodate him. He was your future husband and you had be able to lie with him. He deserved pleasure too and how else would you be able to have kids one day? You wanted a family again, right? 

One day, it would get easier. Rafe would make sure of it. He would help you, guide you, until your body learned to take him without resistance.

By the time Rafe reached his climax, you were a sweaty, tear-streaked mess. He had promised it would get easier, yet once again, you were left aching and sore. When he finally lifted his weight off you, your body remained frozen in place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shifting to the other end of the bed. You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled in, his head hitting the pillow.

“Y/N?”

“Y-Yes?” you replied, your voice shaky.

“Go pee,” he ordered, his tone firm yet drowsy.

“Why?”

“Just go,” he repeated, exhaling sharply. “I’m fucking tired.”

It took every ounce of strength, but you pushed yourself up from the bed. You felt his eyes on you as you waddled to his bathroom door, still able to feel him inside of you, white stuff dripping down your thighs. 

Inside, you flipped on the bathroom light, squinting as your eyes attempted to adjust. Your legs trembled as you lowered yourself onto the toilet. You heard Rafe shifting in bed, the sheets rustling as he got comfortable. He was already drifting off, unbothered, while you sat there, trying to collect yourself. 

After a moment, you reached for some toilet paper, dabbing at the mess between your thighs. Your body still felt raw, stretched beyond what you thought possible. Flushing the toilet, you moved to the sink, cupping cold water in your hands and splashing it on your face. 

You turned off the light and stepped back into the bedroom. Still glistening with a layer of sweat, he laid down with an arm over his face as he breathed steadily and quietly. You found your pajama bottoms sitting by the door and carefully put them back over your legs. 

“Y/N?” You were reaching for the handle of his bedroom door and paused. 

“Yeah?”

“Stay in here with me.”

“We’re not supposed to–”

“I’m a grown man and you’re my fucking fiance.”

He always spoke so sharply and in a way that left no room for arguing. Sometimes, that anger and frustration wasn’t directed at you but that didn’t make you immune from feeling it. The last thing you wanted was to cause any problem’s with his parents. They’d made it very clear that they expected the two of you to sleep separately until the wedding. 

Slowly, you turned to face him. He was still sprawled across the bed, the sheets tangled around his waist, his bare chest rising and falling. 

“Stay,” he repeated, softer this time, the demand still there.

Silently, you padded over to his bed again. He lifted the sheets and carefully, you climbed into the bed, beside him. 

“There you go, darlin’” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple as he tucked you beneath him, his weight pinning you into place. “Right where you belong.”

Seeing how much happier Juliet was at the Cameron ranch made you question why you didn’t feel the same as her. 

Late afternoon sun bathed the Cameron state in warm gold as you rode beside Sarah Cameron. Juliet moved beneath you with ease, but every step sent a dull ache through your thighs. You winced, shifting slightly in the saddle in an attempt to ease the soreness.

Sarah, riding beside you on her white mare, caught it immediately, “You good?” She asked, concern on her face. 

You nodded quickly, “Oh, I’m fine. I just haven’t rode in awhile.” 

It hurt to even slide on your tight jeans that morning thanks to the bruising on your inner thighs and the soreness in your middle. You turned your head, watching as the barn got farther from your view. You and Sarah had left John B. and Rafe hunched over a work bench, repairing worn bridles and saddles. 

Rafe had let you tag along for the day, surprising you both when you found Sarah already there with John B., leaning against a stall with her arms crossed. The moment she saw you, she swung effortlessly onto her horse, flashing you a grin. “Come on. Juliet is yours, right?,” she urged, nudging her mare forward. “Let’s leave the boys to their busy work."

You looked to Rafe for permission, of course, and took his rolled eyes and quick dismissal as a yes. 

Now, she caught your quick glances back towards the barn, “My brother isn’t hurting you, is he?” 

Her words took you by complete surprise. Your fingers tensed on Juliet’s reins, pulling too sharply, and for a moment, the mare tossed her head in protest, “Sorry, Julie,” You said, “Uhm, what? N-no. Why … why would you think that?” 

She gave you a look that was hard to read and your horses continued alongside each other, “I’m sure you’ve gotten to know what he’s like,” She said, “Do you … think he’s a nice guy?”

“He’s…” You rushed to answer, wanting to reassure her, but the words got tangled in your head. “He’s nice to me,” you finally said, nodding like that would make it more true. “Sometimes he, like, talks really directly? In a way that… I don’t know, kinda hurts my feelings? But I know he doesn’t mean to be mean.”

“Huh,” Sarah took in your words, and you smiled, trying to ease the tension in the conversation, “He’s a lot for most people. To be honest, I don’t know if you’re what I pictured for the girl he’d finally settle down with.”

“Oh,” You said, trying to not to let the way your heart panged with hurt show on your face, “Yeah, maybe. I guess I’m not very strong… or the smartest person.” 

Sarah’s eyes softened, her expression shifting from the guarded look she’d worn before. “Hey, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly, pulling her horse a little closer to yours. “I just... I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I know how confusing and lonely it is. And it might make you feel better to get wrapped up with Rafe but it’s also good to have your own life. Maybe your own friends?”

She searched your gaze and you felt your throat tighten and tears threatening to escape, “Wheezie’s my friend, at least.”

“Wheezie’s great,” Sarah said which made you smile sadly, “I have some friends. John B and I do. They live on the otherside of Kildare but I always try to meet up with them. They’re cool and they’re actually our age. I’d love to introduce you to them.”

Your heart gave a small, hesitant flutter. “That would be fun,” you said quietly, and for the first time in a while, you entertained the thought of something else, something new. 

“Do you drink?” She asked after a moment of just enjoying the breeze and watching the tall, swaying grass. 

“I have before,” You said feeling a little sheepish, “Just not enough to say I like it, I guess. Why?”

“When I go over there, we usually drink, watch a movie, play games, that kind of thing. It’s really fun. You don’t have to drink but I think you’ll like it.” 

“Does Rafe know your friends?”

Sarah snorted, “Uh, yeah. He wouldn’t want to come with us. Don’t mention it to him yet, though, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” You agreed, “Sarah, do you think you could come next time I go dress shopping? Rose is a little…”

“Uptight,” She finished, “Yeah, sure. That would be fun.”

Your opinion of Sarah Cameron had shifted quickly and for the better. 

“Like I said before, you’re moving too fast with her, Rafe.” 

Rafe should’ve known that his father didn’t invite him to breakfast at the diner in town for father-son bonding time. Nor was it a business meeting. He would’ve preferred either over a lecture. He was stuck, unable to really raise his voice, due to the public setting which Ward knew undoubtedly. The diner was a small place, the kind of spot where everyone knew each other’s names and half the town seemed to gather before heading off to the fields or pastures. 

It was when they got back into Ward’s SUV that Rafe could finally say what he felt. “This is micromanagement. You’re fucking micromanaging me, Dad! I did what you wanted and you’re upset because I’m not doing it exactly the way you want.”

Ward’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tight Rafe thought it might break. “I need you to get it through your thick skull that you don’t know everything, Rafe.”

“This is just Rose and her bullshit–”

“It’s disrespectful and you know that. We’re being woken up at all times of the night. Not to mention the girl is walking around with hickies and bruising. What’s that gonna look like to people in town? We took in that girl! People will think we’re using her. It’s not a good look.” 

Ward started up the car and pulled away quickly, the tires kicking up dust as they left the quiet, small-town streets behind. Kildare was a ranching community, where everyone’s business was their business. Rafe couldn’t do anything without people noticing. 

“None of this will matter after the wedding. I don’t know, Dad, I guess I just don’t give a shit anymore what other people think.”

“You won’t take over the business if that’s how you see things.”

“Dad–”

“And you won’t get the Ironwood house. We’ve talked about this endlessly,” Rafe’s fist hit the paneling of the car door and he squeezed his eyes tightly as the anger passed through him, radiating through him, warming his skin, “You get the house under the conditions that Rose and I set.” 

“That house is mine. You know that Mom wanted it that way,” Rafe argued with clenched fists, “You don’t get to control that, Dad.” Rafe’s voice was sharp, raw, but there was a tremor beneath the surface. The Ironwood house had been promised to him, but Ward had always been the one to hold the strings, dangling that future in front of him like a carrot on a stick. “I earned that house. I’ve worked for it. You can’t just take it away.”

About twenty miles from the Cameron estate, nestled along a winding dirt road that cut through the sprawling countryside, sat the Ironwood house. The house wasn’t as grand as the Cameron estate it had a quiet but rugged charm. It had once belonged to a competitor before the Cameron family had purchased the land after his passing.

Ward’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles pale in the dim light. “I’m not taking anything from you, Rafe. But if you want to go off and make mistakes, you know, like getting that girl pregnant just a few weeks after you met her or embarrassing our family, then there will be consequences.”

Rafe nodded his head though inside he was seething, “I got it, Dad,” Rafe rubbed his face in his hands, his jaw clenched tightly, “You win.” 

You fucking win, Rafe thought, for now. 

Oh, you were perfect for him. Rafe kept quiet throughout dinner that night but that was because he was intently watching you. The way you confidently wore that pink, gingham dress that was cut way too low, to the point that your breasts were practically spilling from it. When you caught Rafe glancing at you, you’d flash him a shy smile. Lips shining with gloss and sparkles, Rafe imagined smudging all your makeup. 

He’d been working on training your hole to take him, he hadn’t considered training your mouth yet. You seemed more comfortable, making conversation with both Wheezie and Sarah. The way you carried yourself, effortlessly making them laugh, was different, more natural.

It would be good if you liked this family but Rafe couldn’t help that his mind wandered to the family he would make. His father's attempts to control him, especially in the bedroom, only made things worse. It triggered something deep within him. It was his god-given right as a man to fuck you in all the ways he wanted, with or without protection. You were his. That had been true ever since he put a ring on your left hand. 

After dinner, Rafe pulled you upstairs into Ward’s office. It was reckless, he knew that, but he was clinging onto that sense of control. 

“What are we doing in here?”

“I’m going to fuck you,” Rafe replied, his eyes tracking the shift in your expression as the realization hit. The fear in your face made him harder than he already was, and he had to undo his belt. “Go sit on the desk,” he instructed, gesturing to the large mahogany desk in the center of the room.

“But that’s your dad’s desk,” you hesitated, a frown tugging at your lips. “Isn’t that, like, weird?”

Rafe shot you a warning look, and without another word, you scrambled across the room toward his desk. He followed closely, closing the distance between you. “It’s your fault,” he muttered, his voice rough as he crossed the room too. “Look at what you're wearing. You’re practically begging to get fucked.”

“I wasn’t—” you started to protest.

“You were,” Rafe cut you off, his tone final. “You wore that dress for me, didn’t you? Or were you looking for attention from someone else?”

“I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t what?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Rafe loved the panic he saw in your eyes, the way the few thoughts you could hold in your head seemed to swirl, struggling to make sense of what was happening.

“I …I didn’t wear it for anyone else.”

“You wore it for me, then.”

“It was for you,” You spoke in a hesitant whisper. Your head tilted, and Rafe could see the uncertainty in your eyes. Still, the words sent a rush of heat through him. Rafe lifted you up by your hips, placing you on the desk, right on top of manila folders and Ward’s important paperwork. 

"Good girl, baby," he murmured, his hand finding the hem of your dress, lifting it. "Now, don’t act like you don’t want this." 

“Rafe, I’m still sore,” You said as Rafe slid your panties down your thigh.

“I’ll be quick,” Rafe assured you, “I’ve been halfway there since you walked in the dining room earlier.”

It wasn’t that Rafe didn’t understand the toll that he took on your body. He cared, he certainly didn’t want to break you, but he also knew that you could handle more than you could wrap your mind around. Maybe, he was a bit selfish and enjoyed the sight of him slowly fucking you, his huge girth sliding in and out of you, stretching you to the point of sobbing. 

He wanted you to feel empty without him. He wanted you to become so used to him that another man or even your own tiny fingers couldn’t satisfy your needs. 

“Relax,” Rafe said, watching the ways your eyes darted between his blue ones and then back down to his length, “You’re okay, darlin’.”

Rafe pushed your shoulders down until your elbows were propped up against the desk before he grabbed your legs, tilting your hips up. He spit directly against your hole before spitting into his palm, coating his hard length with his own saliva. 

He watched the way your face scrunched in pain as he started to push inside of you. Like he taught you before, you started to take deep breaths in and out, “Good girl, just like I taught you. You’re okay,” Rafe cooed as you squeezed him tight. 

Those deep breaths quickly became shallow ones as he stretched you. “I can’t, I can’t, it’s too big–” You spoke suddenly, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, please. Please, Rafe.” 

“Baby, it’s okay-”

“Please, please, please. Please. Please. Not okay. Not okay. I can’t, I can’t.”

Rafe surprised even himself when he paused. The look on your face reminded him of the time in the car, the first day you met. It was hard to watch. He’d pushed you too far, you were starting to have a panic attack. His chest tightened as he pulled back, his mind scrambling. He tucked himself back into his briefs. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Slowly, he reached for your shoulder, lifting it carefully to help you sit up. 

“Shit, we can stop, okay?” Rafe said in a voice he didn’t recognize, “Fuck, you need to breathe, Y/N.” 

He pulled you closer, letting your head rest on his chest, as you tried to control your hiccups and heavy breathing. Listening to it made his own breath feel tight in his lungs. Stroking your back, he tried to quell the storm inside of you. Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest as he held you close, the guilt gnawing at him, “Jesus …I’m sorry, baby.”

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[moonlight-alexia]

no words, just you | a.p.

alexia putellas x matildas!reader | 1.4k | you come home to alexia after a tough international break

ˏˋ°•*⁀ i hope y'all like it, it just came into my head no long ago and felt the need to write it. idk if it's any good but hope you all like to read it <3

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

As you settled into your seat on the plane, an uneasy weight settled over your body. A long flight that was going to be made even longer with the way you couldn’t settle yourself or seem to relax. There was a heaviness that wasn’t going away and all you could do was hope that it would leave once you focused back on club football.

You normally loved international break. You love representing your country, you love spending time with your national teammates, you were all so close and had this bond. Especially everyone being spread across the globe, camp was made more special getting to see your friends that you had grown up playing football with. 

You always wore the green and gold with so much pride, you just wished the people in charge cared about you and the team the way you cared about playing for your country. It was easier said than done to just focus on the football and let that do the talking. The constant media abuse was starting to weigh on most of the girls in camp, having no clear direction and not properly building towards a home tournament in twelve months was becoming exhausting. Seven months without a permanent coach.

Part of you wished you had pulled out of this camp and stayed in Barcelona with Alexia during this break. But the idea of a little tournament and a kit debut had drawn you in and now, mentally, you were paying the price of going.

Leaning your head back against your seat, you let out a deep sigh, a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in. You grabbed your phone, hovering over the texts from Alexia, seeing the most recent ones she’d sent as you were getting on the plane.

‘Bon dia mi amor, have a safe flight. I’ll be there when you land. Te quiero y te extraño mucho xx’

A little smile graced your lips, you couldn’t wait to be home with Alexia, to be in her arms where nothing else seems to matter but the safety of her presence. Alexia had been a bit worried about you over the last week and a bit. She’d managed to find a way to watch your matches and by the end of the last one she could see how defeated you looked. Each loss on top of everything else going on had really weighed you down and it was visible, probably more so to someone like Alexia who knew you as well as she did.

Since the kit debut photos came out where Alexia couldn’t hold back from calling you and you having agreed to model the away kit for her when you were back home, conversations between the two of you mainly consisted of Alexia sending you little messages throughout the day with no expectation of you answering. 

Even if you barely had the mental energy to reply to the messages, getting to read little bits of Alexia’s day made you smile. Also made you miss her even more than you thought you could. 

‘Te quiero Ale, can’t wait to see you again x’

Soon enough you’ll be in Alexia’s arms, the one thought that would get you through the flight back to Barcelona. You were wrapped up in one of Alexia’s hoodies that you’d taken on camp with you, arms wrapped around yourself tightly as if you could hold yourself together so you didn’t feel so flat and like you were breaking. The hoodie still smelled like Alexia and your eyes suddenly grew heavy. It’d been a long week and a half, so you were more than happy to let yourself succumb to and let sleep wash over you.

‘Amor!’ Alexia’s eyes lit up when she saw you walking through the airport, quickly making her way over to you, wrapping her arms around you and lifting you up slightly. You let out a breath of a laugh, dropping the handle of your suitcase and wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. Nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck, the hoodie may have smelled like Alexia but nothing was better than actually having her against you.

‘Hola Ale,’ You whispered against the skin of her neck, your breath sending a shiver down her spine. She’s missed this, missed you.

Time seemed to stop while you both stood wrapped up in each other's arms in the middle of the airport. Reluctantly you slightly pulled away from each other, your hands resting on the tops of her arms while Alexia’s were still loosely wrapped around your waist. Alexia leaned down, pressing a little kiss to your cheek.

Alexia grabbed the handle of your suitcase with one hand and with the other she held out for you to hold, lacing your fingers together the moment your hand met hers, ‘Home now, sí?’ Alexia gave your hand a little squeeze, smiling softly at you. 

‘I’m already home amor,’ Alexia rolled her eyes playfully, nudging her shoulder against yours. 

‘Oh stop it you,’ Alexia tried to hide her smile from you, but it was always impossible.

A comfortable silence fell over you both while Alexia drove you back to your shared house. You were still so tired, leaning your head back, your eyes fixated on your girlfriend. Every so often you saw her eyes flutter in your direction, lips turning up every time she caught your gaze. A slight blush creeped across her cheeks when she noticed you were staring at her.

‘Mi amor,’ Alexia whined, ‘Why you staring?’ She reached over gently, pushing your head to look the other way.

‘What? I can’t look at mi novia who is muy bonita,’ You emphasised the little bits of Spanish you sprinkled in whenever you could, making Alexia laugh a little. 

‘Remember when all you could say was bon dia for months,’ It had taken you a bit to get used to and remember bits of the language from your lessons. Somehow you and Alexia got to know each other despite her broken English and your broken Spanish, ‘Now look at you, adding more words,’ You pushed her hand away when she tapped your thigh faux condescendingly.

‘Not my fault it took me so long. My teacher was quite distracting,’ You joked around, cracking a half smile. Alexia smirked, a wink sent your way and at a red light she leaned over to press a kiss to your temple, resting her hand on your thigh.

The moment you walked through the front door to the house you shared with Alexia, there was a comfort that instantly washed over you. The past week, while still in the back of your mind, it wasn’t so loud anymore. Photos of you and Alexia, your friends and family filled the space and you were reminded of everything good in your life.

‘Hate seeing you like this cari,’ Alexia’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, ‘I know what it’s like, if you need to talk,’ You melted into Alexia’s embrace. You may not have been the one to tell her what had been going on, but she always knew what to do and say even if no one had told her.

‘Just want to be here with you, leave it all out there,’ You pointed lazily towards the door, for now wanting to keep your house the safe space you needed.

Alexia laid against the headboard, you laid between her legs with your head on her chest. She wrapped a blanket around the two of you, rubbing your back gently, for the first time since you left Barcelona for camp you felt like you could finally relax.

Alexia kissed the top of your head, letting her lips linger, ‘Saw the goal mi vida, siempre muy bien, going do that with us next week?’ She spoke softly against your head. 

You cuddled into Alexia, pressing yourself against her even more, trying to get as close as possible,  ‘Do I get a reward if I do?’ You smiled sheepishly.

‘Hmm you always do,’ Alexia tilted your head up and kissed you slowly, 

The weight of everything would come back another day but for tonight you were home, safe, loved and in the arms of the one person who could always make everything feel like it would be okay again. You were back with Alexia and, tonight, that’s all that matters.

[xanofmercia]

Not a huge fan of some of the later notes roasting this. Of course what you choose to do with your own body is valid, and people trying to shame you into a different choice, however well-intentioned, are not doing a good thing. You’re expressing concerns or stating your choice for yourself and you don’t deserve to be made fun of just for that.

That said, draconym is right that you can still be yourself, The Real You, on pills! I can’t speak for all meds, but I’ve never had a problem with the “regressing because meds ran out” with ADHD meds. I’ve ran out for reasons mentioned in the previous reblogs. With ADHD meds, I did actually worry a lot about losing myself or my chaos while on them, or not being able to be as creative, or becoming some kind of more boring version of myself. Luckily that didn’t happen! I’m literally me with the only difference being that I feel like I have more energy and I can actually just decide to do things sometimes instead of spending hours psyching myself up to do them. There’s not really any other difference. The ‘versions’ of me are the same. And the ones I take aren’t actually supposed to be taken every day; you’re supposed to avoid doing them too often so you don’t build up a tolerance. I only take them when I feel like I could use the boost. Running out sucks because I can’t get a focus/executive energy boost when I need it, but I don’t “regress” back into a previous version of myself. It’s not a huge comedown or massive drop between my normal state when I have them versus when I’ve run out.

Depression’s a bit different because withdrawal can give you brain-zaps which scared me when they first happened, and stopping too quickly can cause some bad side effects, which has happened to me a fair amount because pharmacies and medication in my country are terrible. If that’s a serious concern for you, depending on the medication it could actually make sense to decide you don’t want to have to deal with things like withdrawal symptoms if you forget and miss a few days, or having to always remember to get to the pharmacy on time. I did also get concerned about taking this one because I heard it could level out your moods a lot so you couldn’t feel as happy as you did before. But I didn’t really feel like it made a significant enough impact on that front for me to stop taking it.

I know people who dislike the idea of manufactured chemicals altering things in their brains. It doesn’t matter if that’s rational or logical or not; it is what it is. You don’t *have* to take meds. You don’t *have* to do anything you don’t want to.

But it’s always good to have more information about important decisions like this, regardless of your ideas or reasons. You’re welcome to talk to me, or you can check out some forum testimonials or do some research on specific disorders and their treatments and the effects people experience with each. This isn’t intended as pressure to change your mind or anything; you’re absolutely free to do whatever you want with the information. It’s just better the more information you have, no matter how much you already know. And if not going on meds is definitely the best decision for you, then that’s also valid! Either way, it won’t hurt to have more information about them.

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely, any chance you could do James x reader who is stressing over exam season?

Thanks for all the great work bb we appreciate it so much :)

Thank you angel, I love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 768 words

“Hey, lovely girl.” James comes up behind your chair with an arm around your front and a kiss to your head, surreptitiously slipping away your coffee. “How’s it going?” 

“It’s going fine,” you say. It’s a lie, but you have larger concerns. Your boyfriend is acting suspicious. “What are you doing?” 

“Just checking in on you.” 

“No, what are you doing with my drink?” 

“I was thinking we could make an exchange,” James says casually. 

You sigh, both craving and resenting the break. “I need to focus. No side quests.” 

“This isn’t a side quest. It’s a…a brief deviation—”

“That’s another way to say side quest.” 

“You didn’t let me finish. A brief deviation which will ultimately result in you being more productive.” 

You pause. “Okay…” 

James stamps a happy kiss to your hair. “So, first, I was thinking we could pick up some matcha or something—” 

“James,” you cut him off gently, “that’s a sweet thought, but matcha doesn’t have any caffeine in it.” 

“I’ve heard that, yeah. That’s a key feature of the plan, as it happens.” 

“I feel like I sort of need caffeine for my studying, lovely.” 

James makes a wishy-washy humming sound. It buzzes against the top of your head where he rests his chin. “Have you noticed that you’re vibrating?” he asks.

“I’m…” You take a quick stock of yourself. You feel exhausted, drained. Not vibratey. “No, I’m not.” 

“Mhm. I can actually feel your heart beating against my arm right now.” 

Now that he says so, you can feel it too. “Well, I’m nervous.” Your voice takes on an unintentional sharpness. “I’ve got three exams this week, and I want to do well. I can’t just check out.” 

James might have been anticipating you’d get prickly. He stays perfectly calm, only sweeping his thumb over your collarbone mollifyingly. You feel instantly ridiculous for your small breakage.

“I know, angel,” he says, in that everything’s-just-fine voice of his. “I get that you’re stressed. And it sucks that it is so stressful, but I’m not saying you should check out. I just want to make your studying go easier.” 

You’re quiet, guilty and embarrassed for sniping at him when he’s so relentlessly kind to you. James never does anything but make things easier for you, even when he’s not trying to. He makes your life easier just by existing. 

James lets go of you with the arm across your chest to squat by your chair, looking up into your face. He touches his thumb to the top of your cheekbone. 

“You look like your eyes hurt.” 

“They do,” you admit. 

He smiles ruefully. “Can I tell you the rest of the plan?” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

“I was thinking we’d take our matcha—or uncaffeinated beverages of your choice—and go to the park by Remus’ place. It has that little quiet area down the trail, remember? You could bring your books. It’d still be studying, but” —James shrugs, looking at the bright light you’ve positioned above your textbook, your grimy coffee mug, the chair you’ve been sitting in since you got up this morning— “this isn’t good for you. Maybe a change of scenery will help.” 

Now it’s you wanting a deviation. A side quest, an excuse to check out. You want to take James’ face between your hands and spend the rest of the week ensuring no inch of it goes unkissed. Screw exams. When he looks at you like this, so wholesome and earnest and chock full of good intentions, you genuinely think you must be the luckiest girl in the world. 

“That sounds nice,” you say. 

James grins, and god, his dimples dig in so deep you really could get lost in them if you let yourself. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You give in slightly to indulgence, leaning down to press your lips to his cupid’s bow. Retracting before you forget about exams altogether. “That’s a really lovely idea, Jamie. Thank you for thinking of it.” 

“Well, it wasn’t hard,” he says breezily. “All I had to do was think to myself, if I were wearing my eyes out being a swot all day, where would I rather be?” 

You smile. James’ doubles in wattage because of it. “Well, you nailed it. That sounds perfect.” 

“Plans are my forte, lovely. Let’s see, maybe we try studying there until the sun starts to go down, and then you can call it quits for the evening.” 

“I thought we agreed on no checking out.” 

“But what if I put cucumbers on your eyes? That’s not checking out, that’s just rejuvenation.” 

“I…might be slightly more amenable to that.”

[coolgrl111]

okay my brain is telling me that art would meet reader at a party, have a super awkward conversation and think he fumbled a baddie (💔💔) and then before he leaves she gives him her number and you’d swear he’d seen god bc of how happy he was

oh my god yes 😭😭 like we KNOWW he has game, we know he has skill when he wants to, but also he’s a loser and a little starstruck too… he can’t help but be so shy and awkward. it’s not his fault. i’m gonna try my best here for you anon…

—

art meets her at a party, the kind where the music is too loud and the air is thick with the scent of cheap beer and shitty perfume. he isn’t even supposed to be here—he doesn’t really do parties, not when he has a game the following day. not like patrick does—but then he sees her, and suddenly he’s rooted to the spot.

she’s radiant, effortless in a way that makes his chest ache, his stomach churn, laughing at something someone else said, and for some reason, he gets it into his head that he should go talk to her. so he does. tries to.

it’s a disaster.

he stumbles over his words, says something about the weird drink he’s holding, and she just looks at him, amused but unreadable. he tries again, asking something about her classes, her major, her thoughts on the terrible dj. she humors him, but the conversation never quite finds its rhythm, stalling in awkward silences and half-smiles. it’s kind of adorable, but to him, it’s hell.

he leaves feeling like he’s just fumbled the biggest moment of his life. she was so cool, and he was so not, and now he has to live with the knowledge that he had a chance and fucked it up.

just as he’s about to slip out the door, she finds him, slipping a small piece of paper into his hand, her fingers brushing his for half a second too long.

“you should text me,” she says, and then she’s gone, back into the swell of the party, leaving him standing there staring at the number in his hand like it’s some kind of holy artifact.

he swears he’s just seen god.

[reminiscingtonight]

Guilty

Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

You should have known better than to trust her. 

There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.

There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 

You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 

Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?

Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.

“What do you mean you lost it?!”

Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 

“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”

“Well where did you put it?”

“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”

You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”

“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”

Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 

“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”

The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 

It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.

Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 

There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 

A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.

“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”

“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”

The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 

“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”

“Guys--”

“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”

“About the ring--”

“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 

She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 

Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”

You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 

There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 

“That’s my--”

“The ring! But-- but--”

“Where’d you find it?”

“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”

There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 

“Err… so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid…” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”

She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 

An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 

You stare at her.

Kyra stares at her.

Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.

There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 

“You… What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.

She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”

Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 

Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 

You hold out your hand.

No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 

Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 

“See, no hurt no foul, right?”

Crickets. 

That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 

Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 

At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.

Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c��mon–”

“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”

Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.

But the look on your face… yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”

Alessia gulps.

“Get her.”

She bolts.

[ryuucam]

HANDS OFF !

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ what’s their favorite part of your body? multi-fandom scenario

contains nsfw (duh), oral (both receiving and giving), handjobs, boobjobs/paizuri, marking (a disgusting amount tbf), lots of spit, nipple play, breeding, bondage (m! receiving YES!!!) sub!character but idk if anyone minds actually, ass slapping + ass play, last part is shorter bc i had no more ideas ..

notes writers block is so real u guys .. also i just spent 20€ on hsr somebody sedate me!!!! please!!!! (gallagher and sunday are almost in all of those i need a lobotomy)

he likes your HANDS, likes the way they’re smaller and softer than his. loves when you run them through his hair, even when you pinch his cheeks (even if they end up red and swollen after).

he’s the type of person that loves holding your hand during sex. it doesn’t matter if he’s being rough, or if it’s just gentle lovemaking, you best believe your hand is getting held tightly by his. it’s comforting, grounding, it shows you that he’s here, no matter what, and you can trust him to take care of you. when his hands are busy doing other things (such as keeping your legs open or restraining you from squirming so much), he likes having your hands holding onto his shoulders, or cupping his face, anything’s fine as long as you keep touching him.

handjobs are his guilty pleasure. sure, they may be nothing over the top, but he thinks there’s nothing as arousing as having your small hand (or hands) wrapped around his cock, doing your best to bob them up and down, even if the amount of precum he’s leaking makes everything so sticky and wet. he just sits back, enamored with the little huffs and puffs you let out every once in a while, struggling to grab his whole cock. but that’s what makes you so charming to him, how cute you look when you’re so intent on nursing on his dick, how you whine at him to just help you out. he’s not a mean man, but just this once he’ll just sit in silence watching you.

kaeya, ayato, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, childe, kinich (genshin impact) welt, sampo, luocha, jiaoqiu, aventurine, gallagher, phainon, anaxa (honkai star rail) chigiri, kunigami, nagi, itoshi sae, kaiser (blue lock) byakuya, nagito, kokichi, rantaro (danganronpa) mikey (lazy ass), chifuyu, ran (lazy ass n2), nahoya “angry”, kokonoi (tokyo revengers) dazai, ranpo, fukuzawa, tachihara, odasaku, jouno, nikolai (bungou stray dogs) deku, aizawa, sero, mirio, dabi (my hero academia) hinata, oikawa, iwaizumi, matsukawa, semi, kenma, yaku, akaashi, suna (haikyuu) whitney, syndey, wren, brian (degrees of lewdity) gojo, shiu, nanami, sukuna (jujutsu kaisen)

he likes your THIGHS, and likes napping on them even more. regardless of how much he likes to laze around, the soft skin always lulls him into a deep sleep. and when he’s not sleeping, he’s tracing countless patterns on them as he talks about his day - or listens to yours. he bites you sometimes, then licks and kisses the skin better. call him a freak, but he’d die for your thighs, no questions asked.

have you guys ever seen those memes that are like “i’d be happy to die crushed by my gf’s thighs”? that’s him. point blank. he spends hours and hours between your legs, overstimulating you to the point of tears, and the more you cry and try to close your legs the more he enjoys it and keeps going. he starts by kissing your legs, inching closer and closer to your core, leaving numerous hickeys and bite marks all over your inner thighs. when he starts sucking and licking your clit, his hands squeeze the fat of your thighs, further bruising the flesh. you can’t even get mad at him, really, because the massages and creams and who-knows-what he gives you during aftercare makes up for it.

when you’re not feeling like having full on sex, you both agreed on letting him fuck your thighs. it’s a win-win, really, since he gets off and you can lay down and rest (as much as you can while having your boyfriend rutting in your legs from the back, to be fair). the slick coats your skin, making it easy for his cock to slide in and out of your thighs. his tip peeks out from the front, red and throbbing while he overstimulates himself. he groans in your ears, about how “you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re such a doll for letting me fuck you like this”. well, you can’t really resist him when he’s like this, so when his cock doesn’t go down after the nth orgasm he’s had, you just tell him to fuck you properly. he can’t wait.

diluc, albedo, xiao, gaming, zhongli, kazuha, thoma, wanderer, pantalone, childe (genshin impact) caelus, dan heng, dr ratio, moze (honkai star rail) isagi, bachira, rin, sendou (blue lock) makoto, kiyotaka, gundham, hajime, shuichi (danganronpa) mikey, kazutora, inui, mitsuya, souya “angry” (tokyo revengers) atsushi, tanizaki, chuuya, tecchou, sigma, mark twain, poe (bungou stray dogs) kaminari, tokoyami, shinsou, monoma, tamaki, hawks (my hero academia) kageyama, yamaguchi, hanamaki, sugawara, goshiki, fukunaga, bokuto, atsumu (haikyuu) kylar, robin, doren, mason, alex (degrees of lewdity) choso, ino, gojo, geto (jujutsu kaisen)

he likes your BOOBS. a worrying amount, actually. he feels like a teenage boy all over again, but he can’t help the way his eyes always drop down to your cleavage (regardless of the shirt you’re wearing, or lack of thereof). his hands are always grabbing your chest, squeezing the fat like they’re stress balls, and he won’t stop unless you whine enough or he’s satisfied (very unlikely). he could spend his whole life tugging and circling on your nipples, sucking on them, biting your tits, anything, really. and obviously your boobs end up swollen, bruised and overstimulated, but can you really be mad at him, though, when he looks at you like a kicked puppy?

a while ago, one of his friends showed him a video of this dude fucking his girlfriend’s tits, and the thought hasn’t left his head ever since. not to say he doesn’t like your pussy, or mouth, but there’s just something so lewd, so messed up about sliding his cock in and out of your boobs. he’s lucky to be dating a cutie like you, honestly, since you let him do just that. he’s a freak, he knows it, but your tits are just so soft, so warm and tight and wet that his dick slides against them so well. sometimes you’re sweet enough to take his tip into your mouth, licking and suckling on it, spreading precum all over your lips. he’s a meanie, though, cumming all over your tits and face. other times, he just rubs his cock all over your chest, pace quickening against your nipples. and no matter how many times he cums, his dick always gets hard again when he sees your doe eyes and pretty tits. be patient with him, yeah?

having you ride him is definitely one of his favorite positions, since it’s a win-win for both of you: you’re taking all of his cock (or at least, you try to), and he has your tits bouncing right in his face. yeah, having you twitch and squirt all over is length is nice (well, more than just nice, but you get my point), but he’s so mesmerized by your boobs. as stated above, he’s no better than a teenage boy, and just a handful of tits is enough to get him going and cumming deep inside you. sometimes he grabs your chest, sucks on your nipples hard enough to bruise them, but when you get sick of all the marks and spit, your best bet is to just tie his hands up. all he can do is whine, “c’mon baby, don’t be so mean. just wanna touch you” and “you’re bein’ so mean to me, i’ll be good, yeah?”, but you know him well enough to know they’re all lies. well, all the more reason to take control for once, no? he does deserve a little punishment every once in a while.

venti, kazuha, ayato, ororon, wriothesley, capitano, dainsleif (genshin impact) caelus, luka, gepard, jing yuan, boothill, moze, blade, gallagher, sunday, mydei, phainon (honkai star rail) isagi, aiku, reo, ness, nagi, rin itoshi, sendou (blue lock) mondo, nagito, kazuichi, korekiyo, kokichi (danganronpa) baji, kazutora, ran, shinichiro, izana, inui, hakkai, draken (tokyo revengers) dazai, ranpo, akutagawa, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai, jouno (bungou stray dogs) deku, shoji, bakugo, todoroki, sero, tamaki, monoma, shigaraki (my hero academia) kuroo, fukunaga, kageyama, tsukishima, osamu, kita, bokuto, sakusa, iwaizumi (haikyuu) kylar, robin, eden, sydney (degrees of lewdity) toji, gojo, higuruma, choso (jujutsu kaisen)

he likes your ASS. it’s a classic: who doesn’t? he likes laying his head on it, likes groping it when you’re wearing short, or skirts, or… never mind, he’s always touching it. whistles when you walk by, slaps it when he passes by you. call him childish but he could care less.

most of the time, he’s fucking you from behind, just so he can see the fat of your ass recoil and bounce when it hits his pelvis. he’s so rough, but he just can’t stop when you’re wrapped so tightly around him, not when the room is filled with the squelching sounds of your cunny. when you whine too much, he just slaps your ass, leaving big, red handprints on it, but he knows you don’t mind it. you won’t mind if he sticks his thumb inside your puckered hole, right? he doesn’t care about that “embarrassing” nonsense you keep on blabbering about, just let him take care of you. you seem to cum harder when he’s playing with your hole, anyways.

kaeya, dottore, tighnari, alhaitham, itto, zhongli, pantalone, childe (genshin impact) sampo, jing yuan, gallagher, mr reca, mydei, boothill, anaxa (honkai star rail) leon, gundham, kaito, k1bo (danganronpa) sae (canon), aiku, kunigami, barou (blue lock) baji, nahoya “angry”, draken, rindou, kakucho, mitsuya (tokyo revengers) kunikida, tachihara, jouno, mark twain (bungou stray dogs) bakugo, kirishima, aizawa, mirio, overhaul (my hero academia) bokuto, ushijima, hinata, yaku (haikyuu) bailey, sirris, mason, wren (degrees of lewdity) geto, shiu, gojo (jujutsu kaisen)

[igorluvr]

‘T.O.P SECRET

PAIRING: choi seung hyun (T.O.P) x black!reader

SYNOPSIS: hiding a relationship with a popular k-pop idol was hard enough, with paparazzi constantly following and fans obsessed with him. would you be able to deal with it, or crack under pressure?

CONTENT: aggravating fans, negative self talk, fluff so sweet you’ll get a cavity, "mamas" (im sorry guys i love it)

AUTHORS NOTE: the instagram portion is heavily inspired by @rosones‘s “being an actress dating choi seunghyun” fics, pleaseeee go check them out !!!

word count: [1.2k]

EVERYTHING was starting to get to you. Having to be hidden by the man you wanted to marry was exhausting and genuinely taking a toll on your mental. The two of you met 4 years ago, with you being a backup dancer for one of his biggest music videos.

Your sweet personality and captivating look immediately caught his eye. The way you carried yourself made his heart flip, he knew you were the one. After filming was done, he asked you out to dinner and it was wraps from there.

Meeting Seung-hyun was the best thing that happened to you. Well it was, until a year into your relationship. As the days you were together increased, you wanted to show off your boyfriend more. You knew you couldn’t and that ate you alive.

Seeing everyone getting posted and taken out by their boyfriends always put a bad feeling in your stomach, knowing that could never be you. Sometimes you wish that he was a regular guy, that people wouldn’t bombard him with questions everytime he went out and that his fans weren’t bat shit crazy.

You knew how harsh the k-pop industry was, and wanted no part in it. Some idols were getting publicly shamed just for relationship rumors, so what would the people say if they knew you were together for almost half a decade?

It wasn’t his fault, but it affected how you acted towards him. You found yourself getting random attitudes to him—not wanting to talk when he tells you how you can’t go on cute dates, and overall just being cold. One day, in particular, was way worse than usual.

It was the morning of valentine’s day, your 5th together, and you couldn’t shake the sick feeling you had. Everywhere you looked was filled with couples. Your social media, stores, the streets— you couldn’t escape it.

Now you weren’t one to be ungrateful, but having to stay hidden on a day where couples were meant to be shown off made you feel a type of way. You wanted nothing more than to be flaunted by Seung-hyun. This was the man you wanted to marry, and you wanted everyone to know.

Getting out of bed, you saw that he was nowhere in sight. Not in the room, bathroom, living room, or kitchen. Heading back to your shared room, you picked up your phone and went to text Seung-hyun. Surprisingly, though, there was already a message from him.

mybaby💋 • 1m ago

goodmorning princess, come to the guest room. happy valentine’s day ❤️

You were confused by the message, still being dazed by the sleepiness weighing on you. Leaving your shared room, you dragged your feet to the unused guest room, which was all the way on the other side of the house

The both of you had a shared home, which was rather large due to him wanting to have space for his group and occasional parties. You didn’t object, not caring about the size. But it was times like this when you really regretted your decision.

After what felt like an endless walk through the hallways decorated with bright colors and pictures of happy times the both you shared, you finally arrived at the guest room. You sleepily opened the door, and as you stepped inside, you were greeted by a sight that left you speechless.

The room was adorned with an array of crimson red balloons, each hovering slightly above the ground. They wavered slightly from the faint breeze from the windows, their shiny surfaces reflecting the soft, warm light that shone in from the sunrise. Delicate rose petals scattered across the hardwood floor formed a path toward the center of the room.

At the end of the room, there were silver balloons hovering above the lounge couch spelling out 'i love you' in cursive. The way the chords echoed around the room made your heart swell with a mixture of surprise and overwhelming emotion. The whole scene made you want to burst out in tears, you were so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

Seung-hyun stood by the words holding a glittery bouquet of flowers, looking as handsome as ever with a gentle smile that made your insides flutter. “Happy Valentine’s Day love.” he spoke softly, voice almost drowned out by the music.

You could barely speak, nothing coming out but girly giggles and laughs. The effort he put into making this day special flooded your mind with warmth, overtaking your earlier frustrations. Everything about the setup felt so intimate, you could really tell how much time and effort he put into it.

“Seung-hyun, this is… it’s beautiful.” you finally managed to say, eyes watering as you walked into the room. You stepped over the rose petals, feeling a bittersweet twinge of happiness mixed with the indifference of knowing you couldn't show anyone how happy you were.

“I wanted to do something special for you, just for today,” he said, moving toward you to take your hands in his. “You deserve the world. I hate that we have to keep our love a secret, but I want you to know how much you mean to me, especially on days like this.”

Tears gathered at the bottom of your eyes, threatening to spill out.. You knew he cared, you really did, but the guilt of feeling like a secret in his life made it all so complicated. “I just wish…” you started, voice shaky, “I just wish we could be open about us. I want to show everyone how amazing you are, how much I love you.”

He took a step closer, the warmth radiating from him somehow able to calm the emotions raging inside you. “I know baby, but this is how it has to be right now. I promise, one day we can be public about everything. You just have to trust me a little longer.”

Closure seemed so far away. You nodded, wiping at your eyes before flashing him a small smile, not wanting your feelings to overshadow the wonderful effort he’d put into today. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Let’s enjoy the day together, okay? I have a lot planned.” A wide smile spread across his face as he lead you out of the room, leaving you to wonder just what he had in mind.

As the day went on, you went to various places enjoying each others presence. He took you all around town to the most private, romantic spots. You loved when he did this, it showed how much he cared for you, but there was a pit in your stomach that couldn’t seem to go away.

On your anniversary, the day started with the two of you waking up wrapped in each other’s arms, sunlight beaming through the curtains, emphasizing all the intricate details and curves on his face. You couldn't shake the feeling that today would be different, something about it felt special, almost electric.

After making you breakfast, Seung-hyun insisted on keeping the day's plans a surprise. He carefully arranged everything to ensure it would be the happiest day of your life, one you spent all with him. You found yourself growing more excited the more he gave little hints about what was to come.

The first stop was a remote hillside cabin that he rented for the weekend. Burrowed among the trees, the cabin was completely surrounded by nature, giving you the peace and quiet he knew you loved. When you stepped inside, the cabin was filled with soft music, candles adorned the tables, flickering slightly. In the center of the room you were met with your favorite dish on both sides of a small table.

“Welcome to our place, baby” he said, sneaking up behind you to place a kiss on your shoulder "Just us." There was no hiding the smile that grew on your face, you could barely believe how thoughtful he was to create such a romantic setting just for you.

The two of you spent the morning walking through the beautiful trails that spread out through the woods, taking in the vibrant colors of the scattered leaves as they crunched under your feet. Seung-hyun held your hand tightly, occasionally pulling you in to exchange soft kisses, transporting you to world that felt entirely your own.

After the hike, he led you back to the cabin where he had a picnic set up inside, laid out on a beautifully woven blanket. A bottle of chilled wine sat on the cover, alongside an assortment of expensive cheeses, fruits, and pastries. You both settled comfortably on the floor, commenting on the rustic scenery and sharing stories and laughter. The sound of the wind blowing through the trees outside was a soundtrack to the love that surrounded you.

He urged you to put on a dress, a beautiful white one— saying it would make the picnic that more romantic. After a few minutes of going back and forth, you decided to just put it on. You knew how stubborn he was and if it made his enjoy the dinner more, you'd do it regardless.

As the sun slowly lowered in the sky to sink lower in the sky, casting a warm golden shadow through the cabin windows, Seung-hyun suggested to watch your favorite movie. Claiming it would be a good way to end the day, you agreed and settled down to start the film.

Halfway through, though, you noticed Seung-hyun glancing at you more than he was watching the film. His intense gaze sent a rush of warmth through you, and you smiled softly, hoping to encourage him to share whatever was on his mind. Just as the romantic climax of the movie approached, he paused the screen and turned to face you, his expression suddenly serious. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Of course,” you replied, intrigued and a little anxious about what he was going to say. Pulling away slightly, he sat up and looked deeply into your eyes. “You know how much you mean to me, right?” His tone was somber and genuine, wrapping you in immediate comfort.

“More than anything” you muttered, heart racing.

“Good,” he said, nodding, his gaze unwavering. “Because I’ve been thinking about us, about our future, and how much I want to make it real.” He looked at you with a slight smile on his face, eyes unable to tear from you like a magnetic force locked his gaze onto yours.

Your breath caught in your throat, nervousness creeping to the surface as you anticipated what was coming. “What do you mean?” You could hardly keep the tremor from your voice.

Seung-hyun reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Your heart began to race even faster, an overwhelming mix of joy and disbelief swirling within you.

“I've never thought about marriage until five years ago when I met you. It’s like you flipped a switch in my brain, and suddenly, all I could think about was wanting to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we've had to keep things a secret, but I'm ready to tell the whole world about you. I want to build a life together, no more hiding or secrets.” he said, his voice calm but warm. “Let’s take this step so we can finally just be… us. Out in the open.”

With trembling hands, he opened the box, revealing a delicate silver ring that sparkled under the candlelight—an intricate design with a single gem at its center. The ring sparkled underneath the lights, losing you in it's beauty. “Will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down your face as a wave of emotions crashed over you. You weren’t just overwhelmed by the proposal, but by the amount of love and commitment in his eyes. You wouldn't have to hide how you felt, you wouldn't be a secret anymore.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking as you nodded fervently. “I'd love to marry you baby”

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and the moment it settled in place, you felt an overwhelming rush of joy. Seung-hyun scooped you into his arms, spinning you around as laughter spilled out of you and echoes off the walls of the cabin. He finally set you down, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the world outside, not the secrets, not the complications. Just the two of you, finally stepping into the light together.

“I love you so much,” he murmured as he pulled you into his arms, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve waited for this day forever.”

“I love you more,” you replied, heart racing, blossoming before you in vibrant colors. You melted against his touch, the future flashing through your mind in a golden glow.

Time seemed irrelevant in that moment as you bathed in the warmth of his touch. Here in your hidden sanctuary, a place created just for the two of you, nothing else mattered. Your love story was just beginning, and you couldn’t wait to write the next chapter together.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you mamas” he whispered, standing up to pull you into his arms.

You buried your face in his shoulder, laughter and tears intertwining in a beautiful melody. In that moment, all the worries and fears faded away. Seung-hyun whipped out his phone and went straight to instagram.

"Can't wait to show u off baby, been waiting for this for years" The typing on his phone intensified as his smile grew wider by the second. You drifted off to sleep in his arms as the soft sound of his fingers tapping against the screen rocked you to a peaceful sleep.

When you finally woke, sunlight beamed through the leaves of the trees surrounding your home, casting playful patterns on the ground. Seung-hyun slept beside you, chest rising up and down with each breath he took. He was so at peace, and it made your heart swell all over again.

There was a constant 'bzzzz' coming from your nightstand, causing you to tiredly snatch your head in the direction of it. For some reason, your phone was blasting with notifications. Opening it, you were met with an instagram post from your very own fiancé.

@.ttt ✓

♫ Daniel Caesar • Blessed

ttt my beautiful fiancé

liked by xxxibgdrgn and others

view comments…

@.seunghyunswifey wait are we so serious rn??

@.5bigbangs chat this is me like fr

@.liyahsarchives she’s so pretty i can’t even hate

@.than0sworlddd I mean she’s okay..

@.daeholuvr okay let’s see ur face then !!

@.iheartkenshin so happy for them omgg

Reading the comments gave you a whirlwind of emotions. While most were supportive and happy for your relationship, there were others that weren’t as joyful. They called you names, degraded you, even wished the worse on your marriage. You knew they were just crazy fans, but it still hit the deepest part in your heart.

Still, you were thankful for this. Being public about your engagement had its prices to pay, and this was just one of them. No matter how bad it gets, no amount of hate would overpower your love for Seung-hyun.

Looking over at him sleeping peacefully in bed, the morning sun radiating off of his face, brought you comfort. As long as you had him, everything would be okay.

[societyfolklore]

Under Brooklyn Stars

Title: Under Brooklyn Stars Pairing: Young!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  On a sweltering summer night in 1936, you and Bucky Barnes find yourselves alone on your shared rooftop escape. What starts as quiet conversation about dreams of leaving Brooklyn turns into something far more intense- something neither of you can hold back anymore.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Childhood friends to lovers, Smut, Fluff, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Young/teen love (Both 18+ though), Messy Kisses, Semi Public Sex (roof top)

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for Bucky 108th Bday event Square: B1 – Childhood Friends to Lovers   Card Number: 4B003 The rooftop had always been your special place. You’d all been coming up here for a while now, somewhere private when your family's apartment started to feel too small, and you were getting too old to just ‘wander around.’ Your father didn’t think it was ‘ladylike’ or 'proper' to be sitting out on the stoop with teenage boys, even though you, Steve, and Bucky had all been friends since Mrs. Jackson's class in elementary school. The roof remained your secret escape from the loud siblings, nosey parents, stuffy rooms, and the judging eyes of the Brooklyn borough. It was where you'd grown up in quiet rebellion- where laughter echoed into the night, where secrets were whispered between best friends, and where the lines between childhood and something more had slowly started to blur.

Steve had been with you earlier, but he’d left to walk his mother home from her shift at the hospital, leaving you and Bucky alone.

Tonight, the heat still clung to the buildings, wrapping around you like a heavy embrace. The salty tang of the East River carried on the breeze, mingling with the smoky scent of grilled meat from street vendors and the faint, lingering warmth of sunbaked brick. Bucky lay out on the picnic blanket you’d dragged up here weeks ago, long legs stretched out, his sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone at the collar. The book in his hands- your book- propped open against his chest, well-loved pages fluttering slightly in the warm air.

“You plannin’ some kind of great escape, Doll?” he teased, turning the book toward you to show the scribbled notes in the margins of Around the World in 80 Days.

You shrugged, a little embarrassed as you stepped away from the rooftop’s edge and back toward the blanket as you sat down, smoothing out the fabric of your dress, suddenly self-conscious. “Can’t stay in the boroughs forever.”

He hummed, a soft smile curling at the edges of his lips. “No? And where would you go?”

“Everywhere.” The dream was foolish- impossible, even. But you admired the Irish neighbours who had come searching for something more. If they could do it, why couldn’t you? “Anywhere I don’t know...London, Paris, see the Pyramids, ride the Orient Express, sail on a Junk Boat around the waters of Hong Kong.." 

You felt his eyes on you, the way he’d put the book down and rolled onto his side, fully focused. That was the thing about Bucky- when he listened, he really listened.

“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.

“Me?” His brows lifted slightly, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

“What would make you happy?”

For a moment, he hesitated, something unreadable passing through his blue eyes before he murmured, “Dunno, sweetheart. Think I’d be happy if I just had you.”

The words hit you like a strike of lightning, stealing the air from your lungs. When had he started looking at you like that? Smiling at you like that? This was Bucky- the same boy who had once handed you his lost tooth so you could get extra pocket money for sweets. The same boy who had splashed you with river water after you’d shoved him in with Steve, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. You had grown up together, had spent years tangled in each other’s lives, but this- this wasn’t the same.

Bucky was always charming, always saying sweet things- but this wasn’t just teasing anymore. His voice held something deeper, something raw and unguarded, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Your lips parted, but no words came. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with the gentlest touch. The warmth of his fingertips lingered against your skin, making your stomach twist into something hot and desperate.

“Bet nowhere on earth’s prettier than those eyes of yours,” he murmured.

Your breath caught. The city buzzed faintly beneath you, a distant hum of life carrying on, while above, the stars shimmered like scattered diamonds. But none of it mattered- all you could focus on was the man beside you, the way his eyes darkened as he leaned in, closing the space between you. And when Bucky leaned in, closing the space between you, you didn’t stop him. Didn’t want to.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant- like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you melted into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against yours with slow, aching intent.

And then it changed.

Desire tightened in your chest, years of unspoken longing unraveling all at once, too much to contain. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as your mouths collided again, desperate now. You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss as his fingers traced the curve of your spine, dragging you closer. Heat surged between you, and suddenly, the summer air wasn’t the only thing making you feel breathless.

“Bucky,” you whispered, barely a plea, barely a warning.

He groaned, his hands shaking slightly as they slid down your waist, fingertips gripping at the fabric of your dress like he needed something to hold onto. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, open-mouthed kisses against fevered skin. Your heart pounded, body thrumming with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer night.

You pushed your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly just to hear the low, needy sound that escaped his throat. He pulled you fully onto his lap, the rough fabric of his trousers pressing against your bare thighs. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skimming over your thighs, tracing soft patterns against your skin before his touch became more insistent, more certain. He was hesitant, but not unsure- like he was savouring each new inch of you, learning your body as he went. The contrast of his rough fingers against your soft skin sent a shiver through you, heat pooling low in your belly as he explored, as if committing every touch to memory.

“Jesus,” he muttered against your skin, like he was overwhelmed, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. His hands flexed against your hips, fingers digging in like he needed to ground himself.

Your breath hitched as you shifted against him, the pressure between your bodies making your stomach tighten, making you both gasp. A blush burned hot across your cheeks, the intimacy of it all hitting you suddenly- how close you were, how little space was left between you.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath ragged, blue eyes blown wide as he searched your face. “We don’t- ” he started, voice thick, unsure.

“I know,” you interrupted, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, your own breath unsteady. “But I don’t want to stop.”

His lips crashed against yours again, any hesitation melting away as need overtook caution. His hands roamed, his touch firmer now, like he’d accepted what was happening, what you both wanted. You gasped into his mouth as his hands pushed your dress higher, his palms skimming up your thighs, rough fingertips sending sparks through your skin.

“You know,” he muttered between kisses, his lips brushing against your jaw, “I’ve wanted to touch you for so damn long.”

Your breath hitched as he tilted your chin up, his nose grazing yours. “Since when?”

He groaned softly, fingers flexing against your thighs. “Since I saw you kiss Sam Haynsworth in the park.”

You winced at the memory. Unlike Bucky, Sam had practically drooled into your mouth, and the recollection of it made you cringe. “God, don’t remind me.”

Bucky chuckled, but there was something darker, hungrier in the way his hands tightened around your waist. “Was jealous as hell, y’know?” His voice was low, rough. “Wanted to be the one kissin’ you like that… bein’ the one touchin’ you.”

Heat curled low in your belly, his confession sending a fresh wave of want through you. “Bucky…”

“Wanna touch you so bad,” he whispered, his lips tracing a heated path down your throat, his hands sliding higher under your dress, fingertips grazing over the soft cotton of your underwear. A shaky breath escaped you as he rubbed slow, teasing circles, pressing just enough to make your thighs tremble around him.

A soft sound slipped from your lips, something between a sigh and a whimper, and Bucky let out a low, shuddering breath at the movement. His other hand gripped your waist, grounding you against him, against the undeniable hardness beneath his slacks. The heat between you burned hotter, more desperate. You reached down, fingers fumbling against the fabric of his trousers, feeling the solid length of him beneath your palm. He sucked in a sharp breath, forehead pressing against yours as he let out a low, needy curse.

“I’d be so good to you, Doll, if you let me,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint. “You want that, don'cha?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, overwhelmed by how much you did want it, how much you wanted him.

“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go,” he promised, his fingers pressing more firmly, sending a shiver through you. His lips brushed yours, teasing, coaxing. “Just tell me you’re my girl.”

Your breath trembled as you met his gaze, the weight of his words pressing into you as much as his touch.

"I'm your girl," you whispered, the confession slipping past your lips before you could second-guess it.

Bucky's breath hitched, and then he was moving, shifting, his hands firm yet careful as he eased you down onto the picnic blanket. The fabric was warm against your back, but all you could focus on was him- his weight pressing into you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin. He hovered for a moment, eyes searching yours, like he was memorizing this, savouring the way you looked beneath him before he finally dipped down, capturing your lips again in a kiss that was all heat and promise. His body flush against yours, the weight of him pressing you into the softness below. His mouth found yours again, hungrier now, lips parting to deepen the kiss as his hands roamed- gripping, teasing, worshipping.

His fingers slipped back beneath your dress again, rubbing slow, deliberate circles through the thin cotton of your underwear, drawing out breathless gasps from you. Your thighs trembled, hips rolling instinctively into his touch, craving more, needing more. Bucky groaned, his forehead pressing to yours as he watched you, his expression dark with want. "Bu-Buck.." Your voice getting stuck in your throat as your mouth went dry. 

“You feel so good,” he rasped, his fingers dipping just a little lower, teasing the edge of the fabric. “Been dreamin’ about this, Doll… ‘bout you.”

Your breath hitched as your hand found him again, palming him through his slacks, feeling how hard he was, how much he needed this- how much he needed you. His hips jerked at the contact, a low curse slipping from his lips as he dropped his head against your shoulder.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he muttered, breath ragged. “You’re gonna a guy doing that.”

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he seized the moment, fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down over your thighs and knees. His first brush of his fingers against your bare skin sent a sharp jolt through you, a choked gasp slipping from your lips. He groaned at the sound, his forehead pressing to yours as his fingers explored, stroking through the damp heat he found there.

“Good?” he rasped, voice thick with want. “Been thinking about this, about you, for so damn long, how you'd feel. All the little noises you'd make." 

Your fingers, trembling with urgency, found the button of his slacks, undoing it with clumsy desperation. He sucked in a sharp breath as your hand slipped inside, wrapping around him properly for the first time. The weight, the heat of him in your palm, had you swallowing hard, a thrill rushing through you at the way his whole body tensed beneath your touch.

“Christ Doll..” he groaned, hips jerking instinctively into your grip. “Ya keep doin’ that- ”

You stroked him slowly, revelling in the way his breath hitched, in the way his fingers momentarily faltered against you before resuming their teasing, sinful movements. He was unravelling, just as much as you were, the rooftop heat wrapping around you both, the world narrowing to just him.

Bucky’s fingers curled slightly, pressing into you just right, pulling a sharp moan from your throat. He didn’t stop, pushing deeper, his pace slow but deliberate, drawing out every little sound from you that he could. Your hips lifted to meet him, your thighs trembling as he stretched you open, teasing that spot inside you that made your breath hitch.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, eyes dark and searching. "You like that, don’tcha?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your cheek. "Feels good?"

You nodded, your breath shuddering. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "So good, Bucky. Please- don’t stop."

He groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as his fingers moved faster, sliding in and out with more purpose, more confidence now that he knew just how much you wanted it. "Jesus, Doll," he muttered,. "You’re so tight… squeezing me so damn good." He lowered his head nipping lightly at your neck.

Your whole body tighten at his words, and as you pumped him in return, wrapping your fingers tighter around him, Bucky let out a strangled curse. The combination of your touch, the way your body responded to him- it was too much.

“Fuck,” he gritted, his hips jerking into your hand, his fingers faltering inside you for just a moment before he pulled them away. His lips crashed onto yours, desperate and wild, as he yanked your dress up past your waist, hands shaking with need. "Can’t take it- need you, Doll. Need all of you. Now." 

You whimpered in response, fumbling at his slacks, pushing them down his hips with clumsy urgency, your hands shaking just as much as his. He helped, shoving them down far enough for you to feel the hot, rigid length of him pressing against your thigh. The sensation sent a jolt through you, your body tensing in anticipation.

“Bucky,” you gasped as he settled between your legs, his weight pressing you into the blanket, the sheer need in his expression making your breath stutter.

His breath hitched, pulling back to take in your face. “Tell me you want this,” his eyes pleading, he needed to hear it just once more.

“I want this," you whispered, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "I want you."

A low, broken moan escaped him, and then he was kissing you again, his hands gripping your hips as he pushed forward, as the last barrier between you was lost.

And then, for a moment, everything stilled.

Your breaths mingled, hot and uneven, filling the space between you as your bodies adjusted to the closeness, the intensity, the overwhelming feeling of it all. His forehead dropped to yours, both of you panting, bodies trembling, hearts racing in sync.

Bucky’s hands flexed against your hips, as if grounding himself, his grip firm but reverent. “Jesus,” he murmured, voice wrecked, his lips ghosting over yours, not quite kissing, just feeling you. "You- You alright, Doll?"

You nodded, chest rising and falling against his, your fingers threading into his hair as you breathed him in. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. "You?"

This wasn’t your first time, but it might as well have been. Nothing before had ever felt like this- this heat, this intensity, the way every nerve in your body seemed attuned to him, how every shift, every breath, sent sparks through your veins. It was different because it was him- because it was Bucky.

He let out a shuddering breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw. "I don’t ever wanna forget this," he confessed, the admission raw, vulnerable. "You feel so good."

Your hands smoothed down his back, nails lightly raking over his skin, anchoring yourself to him. "Me neither," you murmured. "I need you to move, Buck. Please."

He groaned at your words, at the way you tightened your legs around him, silently urging him on. And then, slowly, he did, rolling his hips, setting a rhythm that made stars explode behind your eyes, your head falling back with a breathless moan.

Bucky cursed under his breath, burying his face against your neck as he moved, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. "God, Doll... you feel so damn good," he murmured, voice thick with emotion, with need. "Been wantin' you like this for so long."

You gasped, your fingers gripping his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as his body rocked into yours, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. "Me too, Bucky," you whispered, voice shaking. "Feels arh so good... don't stop."

His pace stuttered at your words, a groan breaking from his lips as he kissed you, messy and desperate. His hands slid down your thighs, gripping them tighter as he drove into you, the slow, deep drag of him making your breath catch. The night air wrapped around you both, the rooftop world fading as all you could focus on was him- his weight, his heat, the way he filled you so perfectly. "God! Oh God- Buck."  Your voice getting higher as each stroke sent pleasure up your spine, your body tightening around him. He felt it- felt you trembling beneath him, felt the way your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper. "Yeah Doll- That’s it," he groaned, his voice wrecked. "C'mon, sweetheart. Give it to me."

The tension inside you snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying wave. You cried out, your body clenching around him, and Bucky let out a strangled moan, his hips movements growing erratic. He tried to hold on, to make this last, but feeling you fall apart around him, the way you gasped his name- it undid him completely.

"Fuck- Doll- " His hips jerked, his rhythm breaking as he buried himself deep, his release overtaking him. His breath came in ragged, shuddering gasps as he pressed his forehead to yours, holding you so tightly like he was afraid to let go.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Your breaths mingled, still uneven, both of you trying to steady the whirlwind of sensations still coursing through your bodies. The stars blinked above, the hum of Brooklyn alive in the distance, but here- wrapped up in each other- it was quiet. Just the two of you, bodies tangled, hearts pounding in sync.

Bucky brushed his nose against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheek before pressing the softest kiss to your temple. "You okay?"

You smiled, breathless, brushing a hand through his damp hair. "More than okay. You?"

He let out a low chuckle, kissing you again, slow and lingering. "Never been better, Doll."

The rooftop was quiet, sacred, the summer air wrapping around you both as you lay tangled together, skin still warm, hearts still racing.

Bucky exhaled, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. "Guess we finally got our escape, huh?" He smiled against your skin, voice warm and drowsy, as if the whole world had narrowed down to just this- just you. "Maybe not the one you planned, but still pretty damn perfect."

You hummed, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. "Guess so."

He shifted, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers, eyes searching yours. "Still wanna see the world?"

You nodded, a soft smile playing at your lips. "Yeah. But I think I found the most important part already."

Bucky grinned, brushing his lips over yours in the faintest kiss, his voice nothing but a whisper against your skin. "Wherever you go, Doll… I go too."

[girl-lostconnection]

I'm so sorry you have to deal with people being so demanding, and I hope that they actually listen to your post and stop, cause it's just really rude in general.

On the other hand, I, for some reason, keep thinking about your story of reader dying and the 141 grieving and how, for me personally, when it comes to one of my loved ones, no matter how much time passes, I just can't stop thinking about them, craving their love, the way that they loved, and how you can see the similarities in others but it isn't quite right, it still doesn't feel the same, and you're just never left satisfied when you want their love again and no one else can do that, because it's not them. You're still loved, yes, but it's not the same.

Idk. I just was thinking about that and was wondering if that's what they might feel. They still have each other and love each other, but I wonder if there are times when they want or feel like they need it to be like reader's way to feel better on some days, where little things that upset them were originally made better by something reader did, but now that they're gone they're just left with that feeling to simmer.

You know one of the things I had to learn while dealing with grief — it doesn’t become smaller. You just get bigger, you get more experiences the older you get and all of that grief is still there. But grief is just what is left of your love for the person who is no longer there.

I think for them it would manifest differently but I can definitely see Johnny trying his best to keep going because he knows he has three more partners and they have to keep going and they have to keep living. Because Reader wouldn’t be happy with them just ending it all, because there is so much more time left, so many things they haven’t done. I think for him it would be one of the things that would eventually result in early retirement. He already lost a quarter of his heart when he lost Reader, he doesn’t want it happening again. And as much as he loves being demolitions expert, he knows there is a different type of life out there. One that can give him and his partners stability and safety.

I think Johnny would be the person that despite it all still sometimes talks about Reader like they are still there. He mentions references to movies and music and books, he draws them in his sketchbooks, he mentions that “this is the dessert they always wanted to try”. With time it turns into a warm kind of nostalgia, the love that he carries with him, his grief manifesting in trying to compensate for everything Reader wouldn’t experience by living through it himself. And by living on. When his time comes he hopes to see Reader again and say “see? I did well, didnae i? It was a good life. A long life, like you wanted. Bet you are proud of me”

Like i mentioned before Kyle took it in one of the worst hits, he’d keep holding onto Reader’s clothes and mementos as long as he can. He googles obsessively brands of clothes, he finds exactly the same articles because even if these get ruined or good forbid someone throws them out — he will know what to order. It won’t be the same, but he could pretend that it is. He already pretends that he’s alright, he already pretends that the hoodies he’s wearing with Reader’s name and rank are just part of his standard uniform.

I feel like Kyle is a person who has never experienced a loss this big before. He never lost someone who was this close, someone who’s still in his head, someone whose voice he keeps hearing when he talks to himself. Kyle likes to imagine that Reader never passes on. That they are still there, maybe noncorporeal, maybe he can’t see them, but at this point he’d settle for anything.

I think Kyle was never one for religion but whenever he passes church he’d get in to light a candle and say a quick not even a prayer but sort of a wish. Like that’s the only way he can chat with you, like something holy could really pass his “I’m okay, love, I’m eating well. Last mission was shite, but you know how it is. You no longer come to me when i dream. Are you upset, baby? I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time, i know you don’t like me getting injured. Just please, come back. I can’t sleep well without you.”

Simon would probably have the hardest times adjusting to the absence of Reader, because he takes the longest time to accept their death. He tries so hard to pull away from the moment where he would need to actually process the notion that it finds him itself and hits him with the force of minivan.

There is aching that he can’t relief, there is itch he can scratch — there is a person who he could tell any of his jokes and who’d not just joke in return but laugh at it and this person is gone. They are not coming back, he can’t even find them somewhere to watch out of the shadows, he can’t stalk them.

Losing people like that is always the hardest because with living people you at least can call/text/send a letter with a carrier pigeon. You can come back and open old wounds, you can pick up the fight, you can look them in the eyes and get some closure. Simon is not getting any. He fights every step of the way, he drags his feet. He’s easily agitated, he feels like hitting his head on the wall every time something stabs him from inside reminding that you are gone.

He comes up with a joke and yeah, of course he can tell it to anyone out of 141, but he wants to tell it to Reader. He wants to tell it to them specifically because they’d have a funny response which they’d choke out of themselves by laughing so hard he actually starts laughing. He misses it. He misses them. He misses their smell, the feel of them, the way he could talk to them and they would just get him so well like no one else would. He doesn’t just lose a partner when Reader dies — he loses a friend.

Price is…Price is complicated. He’s one to bottle it all up and throw it so deep down it may never come up other in his subconscious habits. He makes tea for five people and not four, he shops for five, he still buys the snacks Reader liked, he starts planning celebration for their birthday just on the back of his mind until he catches himself doing it and just forces it all down deeper.

Price would be a high functioning alcoholic in his grief, but still an alcoholic. He drinks a little more than he should, he forces down a drink he’d previously wouldn’t because he knows his limits. But it burns and it numbs and for a few hours he can breathe again. Alcohol allows himself to loosen a lid on everything he feels, it puts safe distance between his feeling and him and he actually allows himself to process some of them.

He cries, he ruins his office, he punches through the wall, he routinely throws up. Once he gets so drunk he actually starts having hallucinations, intoxication so severe he almost chokes on his own vomit. Soap finds him just in time to get him help. After this he gets out on suicide watch for 72 hours and the team would start actually guard him in shifts.

Price still drinks but now next to him there is always someone who also remembers his limits and doesn’t let him overstep them. John hates it at times. He hates himself much more though. He hates Reader sometimes too, because that’s not fair that they are gone. Because look what a fucking mess he is, love, bloody disgrace to drink himself under the fucking table.

Price has the fastest adjustment to Reader staying deceased but at the same time he can’t fully process his grief. Part of him is scared that he will drive himself mad if he does, another part just doesn’t want to. It’s stubborn and unhealthy but so what. He’s a captain, he lost soldiers before, he’s gonna deal with it this way.

But i think he’s also the second person who retires straight after Soap because he finds a new almost obsessively-desperate purpose in keeping his boys alive and well. He may be a fucked up man but his boys already lost one of their own, he doesn’t want to drag them through his death as well

[bunni-v1]

https://www.tumblr.com/bunni-v1/777020659826098176/what-is-your-take-on-the-self-aware-crk-au-i-am?source=share

Different anon here but now I'm curious since what you said have good points..what's your opinion on self aware turned isekaied or something like that where they gain self awareness then drag you into their world to love you?

I think it’s an option quite a few of them consider, but most cookies wouldn’t have a clue how to go about getting you there… until they do.

1) They have to find a way to convince you to come to their world, and if you have a life you care about, that could be hard. The way they’d go about it is by promising that you can return, when you really can’t. Just a little lie, that’s all. Shadow Milk is the one whose able to convince you the easiest, so he does!

2) How do they get you there without seriously hurting you? Well, Golden Cheese Cookie has the answer there. She’s been dealing with stuff like this for a long long time, so she’s the most likely to figure it out. With the help of White Lily and Shadow Milk’s brains, the three of them are able to find a way to safely emulate you in the game.

Once they get you into the game they’re able to help you in getting comfortable. You get nothing but the best accommodations! Softest sheets, comfiest mattress, nicest clothes, whatever your little heart desires. You are pampered like a queen, and it is rare you want for anything.

It’s very nice for the first little while, until the cookies get restless. Your time is frequently hogged by the beasts and the ancients, and other cookies can only see you a few times a week when you visit. They become possessive and obsessive of your time. Overbearing in the gifts and affections they give you, so much so that you want to leave.

Unfortunately, this is when they decide to reveal to you that… they lied. There is no safe way to get you back home — and if there is, they wouldn’t share it with you. They do make sure you’re as happy as you can be though! They don’t want you too upset, you’ll learn to love it there!

Your biggest comfort would be either Pure Vanilla or the younger cookies. Pure Vanilla is the most… sane… of his companions. Not that he’s all there either, he’s delusional about you too, but he’s more considerate of your position. He affirms your feelings and does his best to make you feel comfortable around him. While he won’t aid you in leaving, he is kind and less obsessive than the others might be. He even keeps you safe from the more aggressive few. Isn’t he sweet?

With the younger cookies, they don’t really understand what’s going on. All they know is that you’re the nice person who’d been caring for them all that time. They’re innocent and sweet and make you feel normal enough. They can’t help you much, but they do ease your worries. Some of them even offer to help you “go home”, like Ginger Brave and Wizard Cookie. Others play with you to keep your mind distracted, so that you smile again because they hate seeing you sad.

[coco-loco-nut]

Bookworm

pairing: carlos x reader

summary: Carlos never expected to feel insecure about your book boyfriends, but maybe that’s part of dating an author

masterlist requests open

———————

It was a common occurrence for fans and media to find you in the corner of the garage with your laptop or a book. It makes for a great reading environment once noise canceling headphones are on. Fans are always eager to see what book you are reading during the weekend, and you talk about it on social media. It was a surprise to most people when you started dating Carlos, most authors don’t date famous athletes. Fate had other plans.

Carlos truly doesn’t mind that you don’t quite care for racing, he’s just happy that you tag along and don’t complain about it. He honestly respects that you have no interest in racing but still show up to support. You are always happy when he does well and empathetic when he doesn’t, but you couldn’t care less about other drivers.

“Baby,” Carlos stands in front of you, trying to get your attention to no avail. He doesn’t mess with your book, simply waiting for you to look up. You notice his shadow, but you have to finish the page to finish the chapter, he can wait a minute.

“Sorry, what’s up?” you slide one side of your headphones off to better hear Carlos.

“I’m going to go to the drivers parade, wanted to check in before I do,” he smiles, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Have fun, and good luck,” your tender smile melts his heart. He can’t wait to surprise you after the race, he’s been researching some of your books and bought a couple for the flight home. Carlos even asked your brother about books you used to love.

“What book is Y/n reading?” Lando asks as Carlos settles beside him. Lando secretly loves your socials, getting to get to know you more. He also thinks it’s funny when you reply to fans who ask about what inspired certain scenes in your books.

“Iron Flame. The next book released few months ago and she finally got around to the first one and this one,” Carlos smiles, he loves his bookworm.

“I’ve heard a lot about that. Has she ever called you Xaden? You and him both have that dark fluffy hair,” Lando asks, pulling out his phone to look up fan art. Charles approaches his teammate, silently joining the conversation.

“No,” Carlos honestly never thought about the male characters in books. He’s heard of people having book boyfriends, but you never brought it up so he brushed it off. Carlos peers over Lando’s shoulder to take a look.

“I see like a semi resemblance. Oh, I remember her reading this one too,” Lando pulls up more pictures of popular book boyfriends. Carlos feels something spark in him, a twinge of jealousy.

“It’s a good thing she reads for the plot then,” Carlos looks away, plastering on a fake smile and a wave for the fans. Lando barely contains his laughter as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

“The plot? That’s what she said? She enjoys the smut,” Lando shakes his head, waving to a group of fans yelling for him.

“But she doesn’t write that,” you are a young adult fantasy and adventure author, sure there is an element of romance, but that doesn’t mean anything, right?

“So? She’s an adult, she can enjoy it. Don’t you notice when she gets really quiet and nonchalant when reading? Like no reactions or not even a smile?” Charles asks, watching Carlos nod. “That’s a smut scene she is enjoying, do yourself a favor and read it,” Charles suggests.

The color drains from Carlos’ face.

“Logan,” Carlos calls to the unsuspecting American. Logan approaches, unsure why he is needed and a little concerned. “Do you know what your sister is reading?”

“Yeah, some popular book. What about it?”

“It has,” Carlos lowers his voice, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening in, “smut.”

“And?” Logan arches his eyebrow, not seeing the problem with the inclusion of sex in books.

“I don’t know,” Carlos is at a loss for words. What if you like what you read better than him? What if he is suddenly inadequate?

“Look, it’s just a book. She writes romance books and I am ninety percent sure you are what she bases it off of. Especially since every male love interest has your hair,” Logan points out causing Carlos to blush.

“Right, thanks,” Lando snickers at Carlos’ sudden shyness and Logan’s clear discomfort talking about his sister’s relationship.

“I’ll, um, send you a list of books she loved growing up. She left them at home and always talks about rereading them eventually,” Logan exits the conversation. As soon as the parade is over, Carlos orders the books and a new bookshelf for next day delivery so he can surprise you.

Back in the garage, your hair tie has found a home as a bookmark and your computer rests on your lap. Carlos watches you furiously typing away, undoubtedly working on your next hit.

“Are you going to say anything or just stand there watching me like a creep?” you tease, not looking up from your computer.

“I love watching you work. Sometimes you do this cute thing where you bite your lip when working on something really intense, and how you have to hold yourself back from telling me about it because you insist on not sharing until you finish the book. Even when it drives both of us crazy,” Carlos steps closer, wedging himself beside you to get a peak of your book.

“No peeking,” you laugh, throwing a hand out to cover the screen. “I’ll give you a hint,” you smile as Carlos perks up. “It’s a highly requested sequel to a book that was very much inspired by you.”

“Logan was right,” Carlos muses.

“What does my brother have to do with this?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Carlos shrugs, placing a kiss on your head. You are, in fact, a little worried about it.

“That’s not ominous at all,” with a shake of your head you set the computer off to the side and put your full attention onto your boyfriend.

Carlos wraps his arms around you, enjoying the bit of peace before the race. When his fans are confused why you even go to races when you aren’t a fan of the sport, it’s these moments that you answer with. You enjoy your time with Carlos, supporting his passion like he supports yours, and sneaking off to annoy your brother.

“How sweet, it’s time to go, Carlos,” Charles takes a photo of the two of you almost asleep. It had only been two minutes. Carlos sighs, untangling himself from you as he begrudgingly stands up.

“The quicker you drive, the faster you can cuddle again,” you remind him, standing with him. It’s time for a coffee refill anyway and to visit Logan before he heads to his car.

“Or I can DNF early and get my press out of the way,” Carlos’ joke falls flat as you and Charles give him a displeased look.

“Have a good race, I’ll be here waiting for you,” you give Carlos a quick kiss.

“Where’s mine?” Charles jokes.

“Mate, no,” Carlos glares at his teammate.

“Good luck,” you disappear from the garage. Sneaking into Williams, you grab Logan’s gloves and stand inconspicuously on Alex’s side. Despite spending a lot of time in the Ferrari garage now, you make sure that your brother is still supported.

“Y/n!” Logan yells, and you try to stifle your laugh. In that moment, you not notice Logan sneak up on you and then it’s too late. He snatches the gloves back and stares at you.

“What?” you giggle.

“I can’t believe you write books for adults, you are literally a child,” Logan sighs, somehow he is the youngest.

“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him. Logan pinches your tongue, unamused at your antics.

“Doesn’t Carlos need you to bother him?” he asks, letting go and crossing his arms.

“No, I just wanted to see my brother, but I know when I’m not wanted,” you pout, pulling the card that always wins.

“Okay, okay. Thank you for seeing me before the race. Yes, I’ll be safe. No, I won’t reconsider my career,” Logan softens. He doesn’t take your presence for granted, it’s nice having family around.

“You’ll do great, maybe you’ll even beat Carlos,” you nudge him, feeling the clock tick down.

“Thanks,” you have half a mind to ask him to elaborate on what Carlos said, but that can wait until after the race.

“Bye, Lo,” you wave goodbye, heading back to your designated spot in the Ferrari garage.

“What are you reading today?” one of the engineers asks. You run a mini library with some of the team, loaning out books for them to read on flights.

“It’s called Onyx Storm, it’s the third book in this series. How are you enjoying the book I gave you?” you ask eagerly in return.

“Haven’t started it yet, picked up one of your books at the airport,” he says, making you feel a little embarrassed.

“Really? Which one,”

“Starlight,” it takes ever ounce of will in you to not die of embarrassment. That is one you wrote at the beginning of your relationship with Carlos, and he was the biggest influence on the book.

“That’s a great choice, I love that one,”

“You love all of your books,”

“That is true, it’s like picking a favorite child,” you chuckle.

“I do have one question about it,”

“It has nothing to do with Carlos and me, the manuscript was mostly finished when we met,” you lie, one that you’ve held to since publication. You wrote the book in a week, the fastest you ever wrote before. The publication turnaround makes the lie believable.

“You get asked that a lot?”

“Yeah, it was the first romance I published after meeting him so it is a natural question,” you shrug it off.

“Well, I really enjoy it. I’ve got to go, but I can’t wait for the book you are working on now,” the engineer gestures to the computer waiting for you. You grab your dedicated pair of headphones so you can listen to the race as you type away.

Carlos is practically bouncing when you return to his apartment after the weekend.

“Is everything okay?” you ask warily. He didn’t win the race so you slightly confused why he is eager to get home. Especially with what Logan told you. You spent the flight thinking of how to confront Carlos about his insecurities and how to help him about it.

He got a friend to set up your new bookcase in your office-slash-reading-room before you returned home. Carlos is really proud of his work.

“Close your eyes,” Carlos instructs as you step inside, carefully setting down your luggage. His hand covers your eyes as the other keeps a gentle-yet-firm grip on your waist to guide you.

“Why am I scared,” your nervous laughs accompanies the shuffles of your feet walking through your home.

“Don’t be, almost there,” a door clicks open and you are led inside. “Surprise,” the warm hand covering your eyes disappears and your eyes open, scanning the room. They immediately land on the bookshelf and you run over to it.

“Oh my god, when did you do this?” you gasp, running your fingers across the spines before you pluck a book from the shelf. You loved these books in elementary and middle school. You role played them during recess before you had any idea what role playing was. It’s honestly a little embarrassing looking back on it.

“Yesterday, Logan told me you loved them growing up,” Carlos smiles warmly as you act like a kid on Christmas.

“He told me you were feeling a little insecure when comparing yourself to the male characters of the books I’ve read,” you broach the subject tentatively, searching his reaction before choosing how to proceed.

“I was, but your brother reminded me that you write me into everything you’ve written since meeting me. I also know that I’m the real thing,” Carlos sounds sure of himself.

“So it’s nothing to do with the books I read having sexual elements to them?” you raise your eyebrow, trying to sus him out.

“Nope,” he pops the p, acting nonchalant.

“Well, in that case I should probably warn you that I had a huge crush on Prince Maxon Schreave and Firestar back in the day, like, a huge crush. You know, I think Maxon was my introduction to writing. My first fanfiction revolved around him,” your voice may have a teasing lilt to it, but you are dead serious.

“Seriously, mi amor? Maybe I should return those then,” the anxious undertones in his voice support your theory as he moves to take the books.

“Touch them and you die,” you threaten and Carlos immediately backs off. “I have you now anyway, you are who I write my fanfiction about now,” you do a complete turnaround, leaving a speechless Carlos alone in the room as you walk into the living room, book in hand.

“Wait!” he chases you, needing to find out what you meant.

“I meant what I publish, obviously,” you tell half of the truth. You will DIE before Carlos finds your burner accounts that are so well hidden it takes three secret email accounts to reach the one you use to login and post.

“Right. Well, maybe I will read one of the books I got you,” Carlos retreats to grab a book before laying beside you on the couch and promptly falling asleep on your lap.

“Goodnight, Carlos. Hello, Maxon.”

[marie-swriting]

New Beginnings - Emily Prentiss

Masterlist

Summary : Emily discovers Andrew Mendoza, her boyfriend, wants to propose and as she thinks back to what you told her when you broke up years ago, she realises why she's so reluctant at the idea of marrying a man.

Warnings : set between s15 and s16, comphet, struggling with sexuality, lesbian Emily Prentiss, reader is queer but no label is used, mention of Emily's abortion and catholic guilt about it and her sexuality, angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.7k

French version

Song inspiration : Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

Emily blankly stares at the ceiling, her brain working fast and slow at the same time. She thinks back on her life, more specifically her relationships and the more she thinks about it, the more she notices a similarity in all of them.

Andrew Mendoza’s arm wraps itself around her waist, interrupting her train of thoughts. Emily’s body stiffens while she turns her head and looks at his sleeping face. She can’t believe she didn’t do anything to stop herself from getting into this situation. Feeling like she’s suffocating, Emily gets out of Andrew’s grip and goes to the bathroom without making any sound. The door closed, Emily drinks some water and then wets her face before putting her hands on both sides of the sink and looking at her reflection in the mirror. While she’s gazing at herself, Emily reminisces about the discovery she did earlier in the day.

As she was searching for one of her sweaters, she went through the entire closet where she found a ring in a red box hidden among her boyfriend’s socks. Emily panicked the second she saw the jewel, all at once she put it back in its place. Since then, she can’t stop thinking about what this ring means; Andrew plans on proposing to her nonetheless. When? She doesn’t know, she can’t stay in this relationship. Her head in her hands, she’s looking for a way to announce the awful news to Andrew. While she thinks about what she could say, a sentence and a voice she hadn’t thought about for a few decades make their way to her mind: “if you stay in denial, you’ll find yourself in a relationship you won’t want and one night, you’ll wake up in panic, wondering why you were so adamant on being someone you’re not.” You had said this to her when you were both fifteen.

You and Emily had become friends as soon as she first arrived in your school in Rome. You were inseparable and you shared your deepest secrets; one of them being you were questioning your sexuality which brought you closer. For the first time in your life, you felt understood. At first, it was platonic. From time to time, you were talking about how you were feeling, your interrogations and depending on the day, you’d reassure one another.

However, one night when Emily had invited you over, your relationship shifted. You kissed, your first kiss with someone from the same gender. At first, it was just to try, to be sure you liked girls, then, after a few more tries, you confessed to Emily your kisses meant a lot to you. Consequently, you had accepted to discover this new side of your relationship. There wasn’t a label on it, though you would kiss whenever you could, get jealous and do everything together. You were just experimenting. Yet, you were more in it than Emily. You wanted more, but she was always reluctant. Understanding perfectly your best friend, you hadn’t insisted on being official even if you would have wanted to. You were just two best friends who kissed. For you, it was reason enough to not meet other people, for Emily, it was really not the same.

One day, while you were going to school, you found her kissing John Cooley, a friend you had in common. Your heart had shattered into a billion pieces for the first time in your life. Sure, you were still discovering who you were, nevertheless you weren’t expecting her to kiss someone else, let alone a guy. Looking at her from afar, you had seen her smile, though you knew she was faking it. You were so hurt you ignored Emily for a whole week. Noticing your change, Emily took you aside during break, away from all the ears.

“What’s wrong? Why are you avoiding me?” Emily asked you.

“When were you gonna tell me about you and John?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, looking away.

“Sure, you don’t,” you laughed humorless. “I saw you kissing him last week. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

“We never agreed on being together.”

“Because you never wanted to label it! And I’m not mad at you for that, I just didn’t think you’d kiss other people. I knew I should have put an end to this a long time ago,” you sighed, your heart beating loudly in your chest. “So, is he your boyfriend?”

“If you absolutely want to know, yes, he is. Besides, me and you, it was more to experience things. It was never love.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it. Let’s see how it lasts between you two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re wasting your time with him,” you replied, taking a step forward. “We both know you don’t like guys.”

“I can like boys and girls!”

“Sure you can, but you said it yourself several times, you’re not sure you love guys and you feel like you’re searching for their validation. I think that says a lot.”

“You don’t know how I feel. You’re not in my head,” Emily retorted, defensive.

“True, though I know you well enough. You can try to convince yourself all you want, it’s not gonna change who you are. But you know what? It’s not my problem. You took me for a fool for too long, I’m done, so go ahead, be with him,” you stated, tearing up. “Keep kissing him, go kiss other guys even, if it can make you feel better but if you stay in denial, you’ll find yourself in a relationship you won’t want and one night, you’ll wake up in panic, wondering why you were so adamant on being someone you’re not. And even if I don’t wish you an unfulfilling relationship, I will tell you ‘I told you so’. You’ll see. You can deny all you want, but we know the truth, so good luck, Emily.”

On those words, you walked away, leaving Emily alone with her denial, yet also her heartache. She might have been too proud to admit it, but losing you hurt her a lot purely and simply because she hadn’t just lost a best friend.

The following morning, Emily is exhausted. She only slept two hours as her dark circles under her eyes prove it. At the crack of dawn, Emily leaves the apartment she shares with Mendoza, leaving him alone, and goes to a café near the BAU headquarters. She orders a black coffee, hoping it’ll keep her awake. Her order ready, Emily is about to walk out from the place when a familiar face catches her attention. She does a double take, staring at the person sitting at a table away from her and once she’s sure she’s not mistaken, she walks towards them. At the table, Emily says your name out loud, making you look up. A surprise expression takes place on your face, realising who is in front of you.

“Emily Prentiss! What a surprise!” you exclaim with a big smile. “How long has it been? You know what, don’t tell me, I don’t want to feel old. I already struggle hiding my gray hair.”

“We're the same on this,” she laughs. “I didn’t know you were in D.C..”

“I moved here three months ago. What about you? You’ve been here for a long time? What do you do?”

“I moved about twenty years ago. I’m working for the FBI, at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, more specifically.”

“Wow, that’s something! It doesn’t surprise me, you’ve always been so intelligent,” you genuinely say and Emily’s cheeks start to heat up.

“What about you? Are you an English teacher, like you wanted?”

“Yes, I am. I work in a high school not too far from here. There’s a good team and the students are majorly nice.”

“That’s great. Sorry, one second,” Emily replies when her phone rings. She takes it and checks her notification. “I gotta go, duty calls, but I’m so happy I saw you. If you’re up for it, we could meet again? To make up for the lost time.”

“I’d love that,” you state before writing your number on a piece of paper. “Call me when you’re free.”

“I will. See you, then.”

“See you,” you say, waving at her.

Emily leaves the café, beaming in a way she didn’t expect to today. On the way to the BAU, Emily reminisces about your relationship and the cute moments, whether they’re from after or before your first kiss. However, the happy feeling stops once she remembers your last fight. She’s always regretted the way things ended between you two. She wishes she could have fixed things when you were still going to the same high school, however she wasn’t brave enough to do so. Now that she’s found you again, maybe it’s time to make amends? She doesn’t know if you’ll accept her apology but she has hope. After all, you didn’t push her away when she came to talk. And if you still hold a grudge, Emily will do everything to change that. She wants to make things better between you two, like she should have.

The following weeks, Emily spends them as much as she can at work - which isn’t complicated - so she can avoid Andrew. She knows she has to break up with him, nevertheless she doesn’t know how to do it. Though she can’t wait too long, Andrew might propose shortly; she has to end the relationship before it’s too late. Consequently, Emily decides it’s time to stop running away from the problem. She comes home earlier than expected as she thinks about what to say. The second she walks through the door, she finds Andrew sitting on the couch. She was hoping she’d have more time. Emily puts her bag down, next to the front door and walks towards him; she sits down beside him, though she keeps a small distance. Right away, Andrew notices something is wrong, Emily didn’t greet him with a kiss to say hello. Uncomfortable, Emily wets her lips before speaking.

“I found the ring,” she confesses, point blank. “It was an accident, I was looking for my sweater and I found it.”

“Oh, and judging by your face, you’re not excited about it,” Andrew says, embarrassed. 

“I spent most of my life hiding who I am and it’s time to stop. It’s better to stop now before our relationship passes this milestone,” Emily announces softly. “You’re a good man and you deserve better, a woman who will genuinely love you.”

“At least, you did it before I got down on one knee,” he nervously laughs. “I get it, Emily.”

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Emily and Andrew stay silent for a few seconds, the tension being heavy. Emily doesn’t know what to do to make the situation less difficult. Andrew ends up clearing his throat and standing up.

“I’m going to spend the night at a friend’s, I need to be alone if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Andrew quickly packs a bag before getting out of the apartment. Hearing the door closing, Emily sighs in relief. Not being with Andrew anymore is like a weight being lifted off her shoulders, a weight she didn’t know was crushing her. Of course, she feels bad about breaking Andrew’s heart but it was the right thing to do and this feeling of being relieved is the proof of it. Emily can finally be free to be who she is. From now on, she won’t hide herself, she makes that promise to herself.

You end up meeting Emily two months later. Cases kept her occupied while final exams did the same to you. She told you to meet at a bar halfway between your two apartments. You arrived first so you settle down at a table and check your phone, waiting for her. Emily comes ten minutes later. As soon as she’s in front of you, you notice her hair is now gray. You find her even more beautiful.

“You changed your hair. I love it,” you remark with joy.

“Yeah, I was tired of dying it so I decided to accept my gray hair,” she says, nervously running a hand through it.

“You did the right thing. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Before you begin to talk, a waiter comes to take your order then leaves. Once you’re alone, Emily tells you about when she moved to D.C. and you tell her about how you ended in the same city when the waiter comes back with your two glasses of red wine. The conversation flows naturally, as if you had never stopped talking, as if Emily hadn’t broken your heart years ago.

At one point, the infamous question about relationships comes. You simply answer by saying you’re single. You quickly talk about your last lover before asking her the same question.

“I noticed you don’t have a ring on your finger so either you’re like me and you haven’t found the perfect match or you divorced recently,” you suggest and Emily takes a large sip of her wine, trying to hide her uneasiness. 

“Well, I could have been engaged but I broke up two months ago,” she starts before clearing her throat. “I wasn’t in love with… him. You were right from the beginning. Come on, you can say ‘I told you so,’ I know you’ve been waiting for this since we were fifteen,” Emily adds and your heart tightens a little in your chest. 

“I’m not gonna lie, my fifteen-year-old self would have said it with a big smile on her face, but I won’t. It pains me to know you struggled so much with your sexuality,” you say, putting your hand on her wrist for a second.

“I wasn’t as brave as you when it comes to this.”

“I was only brave because you were with me. After our…,” you begin, looking for the right word, “fight, I took a step back. I could only talk about this with you so once we stopped talking, I struggled again. I had to wait until my third year of university to fully accept myself.”

“You were still quicker than me.”

“I was, yeah. I guess your faith didn’t help either,” you say, drinking.

“You have no idea. Especially when you get pregnant as a teenager and the priest tells you you can’t go back to church if you get an abortion. If he had this opinion about abortion, I don’t want to imagine what he thought about homosexuality,” Emily informs, casually, making you frown.

“I didn’t know you had an abortion.”

“It was after our fight. Only John and Matthew knew. The fact is, in the end, it was hard. Fortunately, I’ve accepted that I'm a lesbian. Better late than never like we say.”

“True.”

“You know, I’m really sorry for the way it ended between us. You were there for me and I only pushed you away and hurt you,” Emily says before taking a deep breath. “You were my first love and I ruined everything when you were nothing but patient with me, at least until I pushed it too far. Losing you is my biggest regret.”

Hearing Emily’s apology warms your heart. You moved on years ago though you’d be lying if you said hearing those words didn’t heal something in you.

“You were my first love, too, and because of this, I was mad for years,” you admit. “It’s true what they say about your first queer breakup, it hurts like hell. But growing up, I understood why you acted the way you did so I stopped being mad.”

“It doesn’t mean I should have done what I did. I knew I’d hurt you by dating John and maybe that's what I wanted,” she says, her eyebrows knitting together. “Hurting you so you’d leave me and I could reject who I was a bit longer.”

“You’re not in denial anymore and I’m not mad so let’s move on.”

“Does that mean you’d accept me being in your life again?” Emily asks, nervous.

“I came tonight, didn’t I?” you rhetorically answer. “Of course, I want you in my life again. I missed you, Emily,” you confess, raising your glass.

Emily does the same and you clink your glasses before drinking to new beginnings. You smile to each other, glad to finally have left the past behind you. You don’t know what the future holds for both of you, whether it’s platonic or romantic again, it doesn’t matter, as long as you don’t lose each other once more, that’s all that matters.

Masterlist

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

real life. l Joel Miller

Summary: maybe this was the life you were both waiting for

Warnings: some sad, but a lot of fluff, some smut at the end (+18), worries; Ellie and Tommy mention, mention of pregnancy

A/N: I'm very glad that you received the previous chapter so well. I think many of us are waiting for a happy ending. This chapter is something different, I hope you'll be gentle with me. I've seen lately that many new people are reading this series. I'd love to know what you think.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

He saw her again, she was just as he remembered her. For the first time in a long time, he dreamed of her differently. More alive, happier.

He was home again, and everything was as it should be, and she was there too. Damn, he could feel her so well as if she was really standing right next to him. A smile lit up her face, she gazed at him with feistiness but also love.

"She's waiting for you in the garden." Sarah said.

He looked out the window and saw a familiar silhouette. You were standing in the middle of the lawn, your face turned to the sun, so beautiful. He smiled and looked back at his daughter.

"She'll understand. She understands everything." he replied, stroking the girl's cheek. "I miss you so much, baby girl."

"I know." she snuggled into his hand, narrowing her eyes. "I'll always be here for you."

Sometimes he dreamed of Sarah as a little child, sometimes you were with them and everything seemed so natural, so normal, like it was a life he had experienced. Joel couldn't remember when he had started dreaming like that, but he didn't want to think about it. A soothing feeling filled him and he felt lighter.

"So I can count on you? Joel?"

"What?" he looked at her a little confused.

"You seem a little distracted." Hazel smiled. "I asked if you'd come over and take a look at the sink."

He didn't quite remember what they were talking about. It was a nice day, warm and sunny. Joel had just left the Tipsy Bison where he'd met Tommy and was about to join you across the street where you were shopping, when Hazel stopped him. And even though the woman was talking to him, his eyes and thoughts kept wandering to you.

He noticed you talking to the woman behind the counter. There was something about your movements, something that caught his attention. Joel couldn't help himself lately and often, when he watched you, he realized one thing - you were carrying his child. That thought consumed him completely.

“I’ll send Barry over to you, he’ll handle it,” he said finally, giving Hazel a quick look.

The woman had a disappointed look on her face. “I’d rather you handle this. I trust you.”

His gaze wandered back to you, you were putting bread and some fruit in the basket. "And I trust Barry. He'll show up today."

And before Hazel could answer, he headed across the street.

He entered the store before you could even realize it, nodded to the woman behind the cash register and quickly reached for the basket, almost ripping it out of your hand.

"Jesus! Joel." You sighed, rolling your eyes. "You scared me."

"You shouldn't be lifting." He muttered quietly so the saleswoman wouldn't hear.

"It's not that heavy. Come on."

"No." He grabbed it tighter and placed his other hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the building. "I hope your stubbornness isn't genetic, because I'm going to go completely gray because of you."

He did it again. Completely unconsciously. You didn't talk much about the baby or the pregnancy. Joel was relieved that you didn't insist on taking part in the patrols, but you still didn't talk much about it. Less than two weeks had passed, everything was still fresh.

"Let her get used to it. She's been through a lot, and now this." Tommy said when Joel confided in him about the situation between you "She must be scared."

“I know.” Joel nodded. “But I can’t stop thinking it’s my fault. I want her to know I’m there for her.”

It was a quiet evening. Rain was lightly pattering against the windowsill, and you were curled up on the couch, reading a book you found in the Jackson library. Ellie managed to get out of the house before the rain started, and the place fell silent. Until.

You didn't recognize it at first, but soon your keen ear caught the first notes. The old record player you had in the hallway was playing music. You turned around and saw Joel.

"I found this a while ago. It's old, but maybe you'll like it." he said, and then he walked up to you, extending his hand to you "Will you dance with me, babe?"

It's been raining since you left me Now I'm drowning in the flood You see, I've always been a fighter But without you, I give up

You wordlessly grabbed his hand, letting him pull you into his solid body. Warm lips brushed your temple as you slid your fingers through the hair that fell to the back of his neck. You swayed gently to the rhythm of the next words.

I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine 'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind And I'll love you, always

"I know you're scared. I am too." His quiet voice echoed in your ear. "But we're in this together."

"What if I can't handle it? What if I'm not cut out to be a mother?" you asked quietly.

These questions must have been worrying you for a long time, because Joel felt your voice tremble. He hugged you tighter so that you could feel his heartbeat.

"You're already doing everything to keep him safe. I know what you're like. You'll be the best mother to him. Or her."

What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair To touch your lips, to hold you near When you say your prayers, try to understand I've made mistakes, I'm just a man

He heard your quiet sobbing and his heart skipped a beat. You'd buried all your fears and worries so deeply that only now did Joel realize what you had to deal with. If he was afraid of whether you'd be safe, then you had to create this child and give birth to it. 

He remembered when Sarah was little, he remembered the sleepless nights and colic when he spent hours massaging her belly and she cried. He remembered when her teeth were coming out, or when she first got sick. But the world was different then.

"I'm with you on this, baby. I give myself completely to you. Remember that. You’re not alone."

If you told me to cry for you, I could If you told me to die for you, I would Take a look at my face There's no price I won't pay To say these words to you

You woke up feeling his hand on your belly, under your shirt tenderly lying where new life should be hidden. The quiet snoring was evidence that Joel was doing it unconsciously.

Ever since you found out about the pregnancy, you felt fear above all. You knew that Joel was on your side, that Ellie was delighted. Recently, even Tommy quietly mentioned that if you needed anything, he and Maria were ready to lend a helping hand. The people closest to you were with you, but fear settled in your heart and wouldn't leave you.

You never saw yourself as a mother. Or maybe you never had the opportunity to consider such a situation? God only knew. And then Joel and Ellie appeared on your path, your life took on new colors. You were no longer lonely, you had them. And although it wasn't always nice, although there were also difficult moments, you were together. So maybe now it all made sense too?

You turned gently and looked at Joel's sleeping face. The wrinkle between his eyebrows seemed softer to you, you saw all the small wrinkles on his face too, the gray hair intertwined with the darker ones, the lips that you adored so much.

You loved him. You were as sure of it as the fact that the sun rose every morning. This guy was your everything and most importantly - he wanted everything with you.

You gently touched his cheek, Joel quivered. Old habits are hard to break. You smiled, stroking his stubbled cheek and feeling his hand now resting on your lower back move slightly.

A quiet groan escaped his chest. "Go to sleep."

"I can't." you replied quietly. "You snore terribly."

He lifted his eyelid slightly, looking at you indignantly. "I don't snore."

"Yes, you do."

Joel sighed and turned onto his back, rubbing his face with his hand. He sighed when he felt you snuggle up to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He liked mornings like this, although he deliberately pretended to be grumpy.

Your warm body lying so close to his, your soft skin. Damn, he loved it all.

"Joel?" your voice was still hoarse from sleep, but he heard it clearly.

"Mhmm." he mumbled without even opening his eyes.

"I was thinking..." you started and suddenly moved, before Joel could react you were already lying on him with your arms resting on either side of his head. He opened his eyes slightly and waited. "I was thinking that since I can't be more pregnant, then..."

"Stop right there." he mumbled, placing his hands on your hips "You'll be more pregnant. You'll be much bigger, darling."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Okay, but what I mean is... I meant that if you wanted to, maybe we could... You know." you made a small circle with your hips and felt his manhood twitch. You smiled mischievously.

"Christ!" Joel moaned "You're serious."

You nodded, your messy hair falling over your face. "You know, now you can finish inside me without worry. You can't knock me up any more..."

He frowned and looked at you seriously. "You're not kidding?"

You shook your head. "It's been a while. After all this happened... I miss you. Your closeness..."

"Fuck, I miss you too." He replied and lifted his head, capturing your lips in his.

It was one of those kisses when you were happy and horny at the same time. You kissed him back in an instant and soon your tongues were tangled and his strong hands were gripping your buttocks tighter. 

Damn, he wanted you like never before. Not only because you haven't had sex since you saw the two lines on the test, let's be honest - sex wasn't on your mind then, but now a lot of things between you have become clear and even more bonds have been created that have connected you to each other.

You wanted to feel him with your whole being, you wanted to make love to Joel and show how much he meant to you, but also to feel the same love from him. 

His warm skin beneath your fingertips, the soft groans that filled the bedroom in the early morning… Yes, this was real life. And while you might as well have been stranded in the middle of nowhere with him, you were tangled in the sheets with Joel, moaning softly as he moved inside you. Gently at first, like he was afraid he might hurt you.

"You won't break me, Joel. I'm all yours."

That was enough for him. His movements were strong and decisive. He thrust in and out of you, taking your breath away. Your body submitted to him, and he took and gave at the same time.

And then, as you collapsed next to each other, trying to calm your breathing and your racing hearts, Joel thought he had never felt so alive around anyone before.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name

[adverbally]

More Than Words

Written for the @stmarchmm prompt “love confession” | wc: 660 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: Steddie, Steve POV character study, omega Steve, alpha Eddie, early relationship, falling in love, domesticity

———

Steve falls fast, as he always has. It’s different with Eddie, though– less like plunging off a cliff and more like sinking into a warm bath that he never wants to leave. More importantly, he thinks Eddie is right there with him.

There have been signs, subtle but there. Eddie can’t seem to keep his eyes off Steve, whether they’re driving home from the movies or wrangling the Party on D&D nights or making out on Steve’s couch. Then there are the constant touches– Eddie’s hand at the small of his back, linking their fingers, playing with Steve’s hair, tipping his chin up for a kiss.

Eddie listens, opens doors for him, calls him on the days they don’t see each other, gets him a fresh scent token for his nest every few days, tells the kids to knock it off when their teasing gets a little too harsh. He doesn’t complain when Steve has to cancel plans, whether it’s for a migraine or an unexpected double shift. He surprises Steve with flowers when he’s having a rough week. Eddie doesn’t expect more from him or say he’s too much. He seems to like Steve just as he is.

Which is great. Really. For most people, it would be a total non-problem. But Steve…

It’s never been like this before, is the thing. Dating has always been a performance for him, a way to show what a good Omega he could be. He could be pretty and sweet, and he could laugh at an Alpha’s jokes and compliment them and let them buy his dinner in exchange for a kiss goodnight. With Eddie, though, it doesn’t feel like a mask or a role to play; it’s real and vulnerable, it’s walking a tightrope without a safety net, and the scariest thing about it is that it doesn’t scare Steve at all. Not if Eddie’s there.

Steve doesn’t tell anyone, especially not Eddie, but he thinks about it for weeks. The words linger on the tip of his tongue any time he does anything with Eddie– wrestling for the bowl of popcorn on movie night or picking up the kids from their latest campaign session or saying goodnight at the end of their phone calls. A few times, Steve musters up the courage to test it out after he hangs the receiver back on the wall, whispering I love you into the silence of his empty house. It comes naturally, easily, and that’s how Steve knows it’s time to say it for real.

He had toyed with the idea of making some grand romantic gesture but in the end, it’s just the two of them, snuggled together under three layers of blankets in Eddie’s bed, laughing about something Dustin said earlier that day. The sheets and Steve’s borrowed pajamas smell like Eddie, sweet herbs and sharp citrus, and Eddie’s arms are secure around his waist as he curls around Steve from behind. Steve can’t stifle the purr of contentment that rumbles through him but he wouldn’t want to, not when he can let Eddie know just how happy he makes him.

“Comfy?” Eddie asks before stifling a yawn in the warm skin at the nape of Steve’s neck.

Steve hums in reply and nuzzles his cheek into Eddie’s pillow. He’s half-asleep already, his blinks growing longer and longer as he fights to keep his eyes open.

When Eddie snorts in amusement, Steve feels it more than hears it. “Okay, sleepyhead. Goodnight.”

The words stick in Steve’s throat for just a second before he sighs, “I love you.”

Eddie tucks his chin over Steve's shoulder and noses at his scent gland, inhaling deeply. “I love you, too, Stevie. But we can talk about it tomorrow.” He kisses the spot once, twice, three times, like he’s already thinking about how his bite would look there among Steve’s freckles. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

Steve falls asleep with the ghost of a smile still on his lips.

[octaneink]

Could you do some dating willne headcannons or some willne smut but like in an established relationship? I’m obsessed with your fics, I swear I’ve read them so much I could recite them from memory 😭😭

Ahhh thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really happy that you like what I've written. I've never done headcannons or write smut lol so bear with me. I don't really know how to write smut ngl so I hope you like the spice (I think thats spicy? I don't know) at the end, I've never really written anything lke that before so I hope its...realistic?

Warning for some steamy stuff at the end!

Dating Will Lenney Headcanons

Playful Banter

In your relationship with Will, playful banter is the base of your dynamic, and he uses it to keep things light, fun, and endlessly entertaining. Whether you’re curled up on the couch, out for a walk, or in the middle of a mundane task, Will’s teasing is a constant—a reminder of how much he adores you.

He’s the kind of person who can’t resist poking fun at your quirks, but it’s always done with so much affection that it never feels mean-spirited. For example, if you’re watching one of your favourite romantic series for the hundredth time, he’ll lean over with a smirk and say, “Oh, this again? Let me guess—they’ll hate each other, then fall in love, and you’ll cry even though you know exactly how it ends.” But then he’ll stay right there beside you, secretly enjoying how much you love it—and secretly enjoying the series himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but he’s grown fond of the predictable charm of your go-to media.

Will’s teasing isn’t just one-sided, though. I think he’d love it if you gave as good as you get. If you catch him singing off-key in the shower, you’ll absolutely call him out on it. “Wow, I didn’t know cats could sing opera,” or something, and he’ll laugh so hard he almost slips. Or if he’s trying to fix something around the house, and it goes wrong, you’ll be there with a camera and a sarcastic comment like, “Handyman of the year, everyone.” He’ll pretend to be offended, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

The best part is how his teasing always comes with an undercurrent of love. He’ll joke about your “weirdly specific and unnecessarily complex” coffee order, but he’ll still remember it perfectly and surprise you with it on a rough day. And if anyone else dares to tease you, he’s quick to jump to your defence, proving that his playful jabs are reserved for him alone.

Your banter becomes a language of its own—a way to say “I love you” without actually saying it. It’s in the way he grins when you roll your eyes at his jokes, the way he nudges you gently when you’re being stubborn. The way he always knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on your worst days. With Will, every day feels like a game, and you’re both winning.

Supportive Partner

In your relationship with Will, his unwavering support is one of the things you cherish most. He’s not just your partner—he’s your biggest cheerleader, your hype man, and your safe haven all rolled into one. No matter what you’re going through, whether it’s chasing a dream, tackling a new challenge, or just having a rough day, Will is always there to lift you up and remind you of your worth.

When you decide to try something new—whether it’s skating, learning an instrument, or even something as simple as baking a complicated recipe—Will will be the first to encourage you. He’ll sit with you while you practice, offering gentle advice when you ask for it and cheering you on even when you feel like giving up. “You’re a natural,” he’ll say, even if your first attempt at playing the guitar sounds more like a cat in distress. “Seriously, I’ve never heard anyone make that chord sound so… unique.” His teasing is always light-hearted, but it’s paired with genuine admiration for your willingness to try. And when you finally nail it? He’s beaming with pride, as if you’ve just won a Grammy. “Told you! I knew you could do it. Now play it again—I need this on video for when you’re famous.”

On tough days, Will’s support is a quiet, steady force. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you’re feeling down, even if you try to hide it. Without a word, he’ll wrap you in a hug, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “Talk to me.” And when you do, he listens—actually listens. He doesn’t try to fix everything (unless you ask him to), but he’ll remind you of your strength and resilience. “You’ve got this,” he’ll say, his voice firm but gentle. “And even if you don’t feel like you do, I’ve got you. Always.”

Will’s encouragement isn’t just reserved for big moments, either. He celebrates the small victories with just as much enthusiasm. Did you survive a particularly gruelling day at work? He’ll show up with your favourite takeout and a movie, ready to pamper you. “You’re a rock star, and rock stars deserve the VIP treatment.”

But what makes Will’s support so special is how deeply personal it is. He pays attention to the little things—your favourite comfort foods, the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He knows when you need a pep talk, when you need a distraction, and when you just need someone to sit with you in silence. And he’s always there, without fail.

His belief in you is unshakeable. Even when you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t. “You’re brilliant, you’re kind, and you’re capable of anything you set your mind to,” he’ll say, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me.”

With Will by your side, you feel invincible. His support isn’t just words—it’s in the way he shows up for you, day after day, in big ways and small. He’s your partner, your teammate, and your biggest fan. And no matter what life throws your way, you know you’ll always have him in your corner, cheering you on every step of the way.

Car Rides

Car rides with Will are an experience in themselves. He’s always the one behind the wheel, and you’re perfectly content being his passenger princess. With you who's in control of the music, and you take full advantage of it. Whether you’re in the mood for girly pop, rock and roll, Afrobeats, jungle, reggae, or even a random playlist of your favourite guilty pleasures, Will never complains. He embraces it, turning every drive into a mini concert filled with laughter and the occasional side-eye from strangers at traffic lights.

You love how he lets you take charge of the aux, trusting your musical instincts even when your choices are… questionable. One day, you might blast upbeat pop anthems, singing at the top of your lungs as he chuckles beside you. “Okay, but why do I lowkey know all the words to this?” he’ll say, pretending to be embarrassed before joining in on the chorus. Another day, you might switch it up with some smooth reggae or high-energy Afrobeats, and he’ll bob his head along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. “You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that,” he’ll tease, even if he’s secretly adding some of your songs to his own playlist.

The best moments are when you both get so into the music that you forget the world around you. You’ll be belting out a duet to some cheesy love song, completely off-key but having the time of your lives, when you catch people in the next car staring at you. Will, never one to back down from a bit of fun, will roll down the window and shout, “What? Never seen a Grammy-winning performance before?” before bursting into laughter and speeding off when the light turns green.

Long drives are your favourite. Whether it’s a road trip to somewhere new or just a leisurely cruise around town, the car becomes your little bubble of happiness. You’ll pack snacks, throw a blanket in the backseat just in case, and let the music set the mood. Will’s driving is smooth and confident, and you love how he occasionally reaches over to hold your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he focuses on the road. “You good over there, princess?” he’ll ask, glancing at you with a smile. And you’ll nod, feeling completely at ease because, with him, even the simplest moments feel special.

Sometimes, the drives are quiet, the music playing softly in the background as you both enjoy the comfortable silence. Other times, they’re filled with lively conversations, random debates, or Will’s hilarious commentary on whatever’s happening outside. “Did that guy just try to parallel park in one go? Bold move,” he’ll say, shaking his head in mock disbelief. Or, “That billboard says ‘World’s Best Coffee.’ Challenge accepted.” And just like that, you’re pulling into a random café to test their claim, laughing the entire time.

But no matter where you’re going or what you’re listening to, the car rides always feel like yours. It’s your space to be silly, to be serious, to be yourselves. And Will wouldn’t have it any other way.

Protective Side

Beneath Will’s laid-back, easygoing exterior I see lies a fiercely protective streak, especially when it comes to you. While he’s usually the type to brush things off with a joke or a sarcastic remark, the moment someone disrespects you or crosses a line, his playful demeanour is gone.

Will’s protectiveness isn’t the loud, over-the-top kind. It’s subtle but firm. He’s the type to notice things others might miss—a snide comment, a dismissive tone, or even a lingering look that makes you uncomfortable. And while he might not always call it out immediately (he prefers to gauge how you feel about it first), he’s always ready to step in at the moment you need him.

Like if someone makes a backhanded comment about you in a social setting, Will’s response is sharp but calculated. He’ll tilt his head, feigning confusion, and say something like, “Oh, I’m sorry—did you mean to say that out loud? Because it sounded like utter bullshit.” His tone is light, almost playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes it clear he’s not joking. And if the person tries to laugh it off or double down, he’ll hit them with a perfectly timed quip that leaves them speechless.

But it’s not just about witty comebacks. If someone genuinely hurts you—whether it’s a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger—he’s quick to reassure you that their behaviour says more about them than it does about you. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are doesn’t deserve a second of your time,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm.

What makes Will’s protectiveness so endearing is how he balances it with respect for your independence. He never tries to fight your battles for you unless you ask him to. Instead, he understands that you can stand up for yourself and is often there offering quiet support and encouragement. “You don’t need me to defend you,” he’ll say with a grin. “You’re perfectly capable of putting people in their place. But just in case, I’ll be right here, ready to back you up.” (definitely would hold your earrings and purse if you were to scrap with someone)

And when it comes to physical safety, Will’s protective instincts kick into overdrive. If you’re walking home late at night, he’ll insist on accompanying you, even if it’s out of his way. If you’re feeling uneasy in a crowded place, he’ll subtly position himself between you and whatever—or whoever—is making you uncomfortable. And if anyone dares to threaten you, his calm, sarcastic facade drops entirely. He becomes a force to be reckoned with, his voice low and steady as he says, “You have one more chance to apologise and walk away before this gets ugly.”

With him by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and fiercely defended. And while you might not always need his protection, it’s comforting to know that, no matter what, Will will always have your back.

Surprise Dates

Between his busy schedule and the demands of everyday life, you make it a point to plan dates that are thoughtful, fun, and meaningful. You’ve made it a tradition to try something new at least once a month, while the other dates revolve around activities you both love. Whether it’s a spontaneous road trip, a nostalgic arcade night, or a fancy dinner at a place he’s been wanting to try, you always find ways to make him feel special—and he absolutely adores it.

You know how much Will appreciates surprises, so you’ve become a master at planning ahead. You keep a mental (or physical) list of things he mentions in passing—like a new restaurant he wants to check out, a movie he’s excited to see, or a place he’s always wanted to visit. Then, when the time is right, you spring the surprise on him. His face lights up every time, and the way he grins when he realises what you’ve planned is worth every bit of effort.

Another month, you might plan a random road trip to a nearby town neither of you has explored. You’ll pack a picnic, create a playlist of his favourite songs, and let him take the wheel. The excitement in his eyes when he realises where you’re headed is priceless. “You’re seriously the best,” he’ll say, squeezing your hand as he starts the car. Along the way, he’ll take detours to roadside attractions, insisting on stopping for silly photo ops and spontaneous adventures. “Look at this place!” he’ll exclaim, pulling over at a giant dinosaur statue or a retro diner. “We have to take a picture. This is peak road trip material.” And of course, you’ll oblige, laughing as he strikes ridiculous poses and insists on making the memories as over-the-top as possible (though he takes cute couple pictures as well).

And then there are the fancy dates—the ones where you pull out all the stops. You’ll book a table at that upscale restaurant he’s been talking about for weeks, or you’ll surprise him with tickets to a show or event he’s been dying to see. On those nights, you love seeing him dressed up, his usual casual vibe swapped for something more polished. “Look at you, all fancy,” you’ll tease, and he’ll shoot back with a smirk, “What can I say? I clean up nice. But not as nice as you.”

What makes these dates so special is how much thought you put into them. You know how busy Will’s schedule can be, so you always plan ahead to make sure the timing works. You’ll coordinate with his friends or coworkers if needed, and you’re not above bribing them with coffee or baked goods to keep the surprise under wraps. And when the day finally arrives, you love seeing the look on his face. “You planned all this for me?” he’ll ask, his voice soft with disbelief. “Of course I did,” you’ll reply, smiling. “You deserve it.”

But it’s not just about the big surprises. You also make time for the little things—like cosy movie nights at home, complete with his favourite snacks and a blanket fort, or lazy Sunday mornings where you cook breakfast together and spend hours talking and laughing. Those moments are just as important, and they remind you both why you fell in love in the first place.

With every date, whether big or small, you show Will how much he means to you. And in return, he makes sure you know how much he appreciates it. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he’ll say, pulling you close after a particularly memorable outing. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go.” And as you smile up at him, you know that these moments—these carefully planned, perfectly executed surprises—are what make your relationship so special.

Social Media PDA

I think Will is the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and that extends to his social media presence. While he respects your desire to keep a low profile due to your job, he’s not shy about showing the world how much he adores you. His Instagram is a mix of his work, his hobbies, and, of course, glimpses of your relationship. He’s the type to post pictures of the two of you without a second thought, whether it’s a candid shot of you laughing at something he said or a cosy selfie from a date night. Or a goofy photo of you both making faces at the camera.

His captions are always playful and affectionate. “Caught this one mid-laugh. Guess I’m funnier than I thought” or “Date night with my favourite person. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”. The comments are always flooded with fans gushing over how cute you two are together, and Will loves reading them, often showing you the funniest or sweetest ones with a proud grin. “Look, they’re saying we’re goals. Can’t argue with that.”

But it’s not just the photos. You occasionally pop up in the background of his videos, whether it’s a behind-the-scenes clip from one of his projects or a casual vlog. Sometimes it’s just your hand in the frame as you pass him a coffee, or your voice chiming in with a sarcastic comment that makes him burst out laughing. Fans have come to love these little moments, dubbing them “crumbs” and saying that they’re being “fed” whenever you make an appearance. “We see you back there!” they’ll comment, or “The way he looks at her when she talks… I can’t. 😭”

Will finds the whole thing hilarious and endearing. He loves how much his fans adore you, even though you’re not in the spotlight yourself. “They’re obsessed with you,” he’ll say, scrolling through the comments. “Can’t blame them, though. I’m obsessed with you too.” And while you prefer to stay out of the public eye, you can’t help but smile at the way he proudly includes you in his world, even if it’s just in small, subtle ways.

There are times when he’ll sneak in a little more PDA than usual, just to mess with you. Like the time he posted a video of the two of you cooking together, and he casually dropped a kiss on your forehead mid-sentence. The internet went wild, and you playfully scolded him for it later. “You’re such a show-off,” you said, and he just shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like showing the world how lucky I am.”

Despite his public displays of affection, Will is careful to respect your boundaries. He never shares anything too personal or invasive, and he always checks with you before posting something that features you prominently. “You good with this?” he’ll ask, showing you a photo or video before hitting post. And if you ever say no, he doesn’t hesitate to scrap it, no questions asked. “Your comfort comes first,” he’ll say, and it’s one of the many reasons you love him.

For Will, it’s simple: he’s proud of you, proud of your relationship, and he wants the world to know it. And even though you prefer to stay behind the scenes, you can’t help but feel a little flutter of happiness every time you see one of his posts and realise, all over again, just how much he loves you.

Spicy Headcanons

Rough or soft?

Will is the kind of partner who knows exactly what you need, even before you do. Whether it’s a night of tender affection or one where he pushes you to the edge, he always makes sure you feel safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by him.

Soft Moments

When the mood calls for softness, Will is all about making you feel adored. He’ll take his time, his touches gentle and deliberate, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His kisses are slow and sweet, starting at your lips and trailing down your neck, your collarbone, and everywhere else he knows you love to be touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your skin, his voice a low, soothing rumble that makes your heart swell. “I could spend forever like this, just you and me.” His hands will roam your body with reverence, tracing patterns that leave you shivering. He’ll whisper praise in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves the way you respond to him, and how lucky he feels to have you in his arms.

These are the moments where he’s all about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your happiness. He’ll hold you close afterward, his fingers brushing through your hair as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. “You’re my everything,” he’ll say, and you’ll believe him, because in those moments, nothing else exists but the two of you.

Rough Moments

But then there are the nights when Will’s more dominant side takes over. It’s not about anger or frustration—it’s about trust, about pushing boundaries, and exploring the raw connection between you. On these nights, he’s in complete control, and he knows exactly how to make you unravel.

He’ll start slow, his touch firm but teasing, building you up until you’re trembling with need. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he’ll pull back, his grip tightening in your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He’ll edge you relentlessly, his hands and mouth working you to the brink over and over again until you’re a writhing, desperate mess. Tears might prick at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you beg him for release. But he won’t give in—not until he’s sure you’ve reached your limit. “You can take it,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts challenge and reassurance. “I know you can.” Of course, you can; you haven’t said the safe word yet.

Foreplay

Will is the kind of man who takes his time, savouring every moment of intimacy with you. He’s not just interested in the end goal—he’s obsessed with the journey, with the way he can make you unravel under his touch. For Will, foreplay is an art form, and you are his masterpiece. He loves watching you moan, squirm, and barely hold onto yourself, knowing he’s the one driving you to the edge.

It starts with his hands, always so deliberate and sure. He’ll trace patterns along your skin, his fingertips leaving trails of fire in their wake. He loves the way you shiver under his touch, the way your breath hitches when he finds that one spot that makes you gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” he’ll murmur, the tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. “I love how you react to me.”

His mouth. Damn his mouth. He’ll press kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your stomach—everywhere but where you want him most, just to tease you. “Will,” you’ll whine, your hands tangling in his hair, and he’ll chuckle against your skin, the vibration making you squirm. “Patience, love,” he’ll say, his lips curving into a smirk. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he finally does give you what you want, it’s with a slow, deliberate intensity that leaves you breathless. He’ll watch you as he works, his eyes dark with desire, drinking in every moan, every whimper, every desperate plea for more. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll say, his voice rough with need. “I could watch you fall apart all day.”

But Will isn’t just about physical touch—he’s a master of words, too. He’ll whisper filthily sweet nothings in your ear, his voice a mix of praise and promise. “You take me so well,” he’ll say, his breath hot against your skin. “I love how you sound, how you feel, how you’re all mine.” His words are like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and they only make you want him more.

By the time he’s done with you, you’re a trembling, incoherent mess, barely able to form a sentence. But Will isn’t satisfied until he’s sure you’re completely undone. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his hands and mouth working in tandem to push you even further. “I want to hear you beg.”

I hope people don't mind that I only wrote two spicy scenes. Sorry, I kinda ran out of ideas lol. Anyways… how did people like the headcannons? These are headcannons right?