#genuinely not looking forward to anything anymore

[pretentious-blonde]

spark

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you accepted steve’s offer, and he smiles like it’s easy, but beneath the facade, he’s praying you don’t notice how terrifying it is to open up again

warnings: ptsd, anxiety, scars, mention of death

a/n: ANGST. steve is still a huge sweetheart as per!!

series masterlist

Steve was awake long before his alarm, as usual. Though he liked to pretend he was simply a “morning person,” he knew the real reason.

He always woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing from a nightmare he could never fully recall. It was the same vague sense of running—always running—being chased by something he never let himself name. 

He reminded himself that those days were gone. 

He didn’t have to run anymore.

He eased out of bed, pushing the sheets away, and moved to the small bathroom. Flicking on the light, he squinted at his reflection in the mirror. The circles beneath his eyes weren’t as dark as they used to be—a tiny victory he attributed to the combination of time, therapy, and intermittent determination. 

The government had footed the bill for his sessions as well as securing him a psychiatrist, reasoning that what he’d experienced wasn’t exactly covered by regular services, nor did they want the exposure. His therapist was kind enough and understood that the horrors he experienced were a lifelong journey to recovery. 

Slowly but surely, he was finding his footing again.

He’d spent years feeling dislocated from normal life. All that time battling with the fallout from the Upside Down had stolen the carefree spark of his youth, and the constant suspicion that something else might lurk around the corner left him raw. 

But recently, thanks to the subtle coaxing of his therapist—and the unwavering support of friends—he’d started picturing a future that wasn’t overshadowed by the past. 

He got a stable job teaching, an apartment all his own (no more living under his parents’ roof), and moments of genuine contentment. The kids in his class offered him something pure and untarnished. Something untainted. They had no idea about his history, or the scars he hid beneath his shirt, and that innocence soothed him in ways nothing else could.

He opened the cabinet, pulled out the bottle of medication his doctor had prescribed, and popped a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water straight from the tap. A shaky exhale followed. 

Today was Sunday. Which meant he was going to see you—something that thrilled him and sent a jolt of nerves zipping along his spine. He dried his mouth on the back of his hand, thinking about how the mere idea of a date used to make him panic. 

Now, he actually looked forward to it. Progress.

He called Robin the second he’d gotten home from school, practically buzzing as he told her he’d finally asked someone out. She’d laughed and teased him that “it took you long enough,” but the care in her voice said she was proud of him. 

He was proud of himself too. 

He had found himself gushing about you—about how you went the extra mile, how you’d insisted on giving him a discount for the kids’ sake, and how your eyes had sparkled with genuine kindness when you raised your hand in his classroom. 

He’d felt his cheeks burn just remembering that moment, how you played into the lighthearted fun. There was a tenderness about you that he found himself needing, now more than ever. If anyone deserved a gentle presence in this life, it was him.

He toweled off his face and ruffled his hair, trying to decide if it was a lost cause to style it so early. The nerves fluttered in his stomach, a far cry from the petrifying dread he was used to. 

This was a nervousness he welcomed—one that signalled something good might be about to happen rather then the more common alternative.

Making his way to the small wardrobe in his bedroom, he flicked through hangers, considering each shirt, each pair of jeans. He wanted to look casual, approachable… anything but intimidating. It wasn’t as if he’d strolled into your shop wearing a suit of armor, but something in him wanted you to see him as safe. 

Maybe it was the teacher in him, or maybe it was the scared kid he used to be, desperate not to give anyone a reason to back away.

His fingers skimmed over a few options before he settled on a soft sweater and a pair of jeans without paint smears or frayed hems. He tugged them on, studying himself in the full-length mirror propped against the wall. The faint scars on his arms peeked out if he rolled the arms too high, and for a moment, he considered covering them. 

But he thought about how you’d looked at him—like he was someone worth smiling at—and decided it was okay.

Or, maybe he'd just keep his sleeves down...

He smoothed the jumper, eradicating the wrinkles, and exhaled. As he patted his pockets—keys, wallet—he felt the steady beat of his heart. He wasn’t used to feeling this light about a date or meeting someone new. The last time he’d tried to let someone in, he’d still been carrying too much baggage. Plus, meeting someone new was normally an appointment with doctor or scientist. 

But the promise of meeting you felt hopeful. 

Like something he deserved.

He arrived early, stomach twisting as he slipped into the small café. The sun was bright but soft, illuminating the polished tables and the row of pastries under their glass display. He chose a seat by the large window—not for the view, not to watch the world pass by, but because he just needed to see the outside. 

The habit was bone-deep, second nature after years of too many surprises, too many nights where danger came from behind, from the dark, from the unseen. 

If he lied, he would say it was just preference, that he liked the open space, the way the light stretched across the table, but the truth was simpler, heavier—he still hated feeling boxed in.

He needed the open sightlines, needed the reassurance that if something—anything—happened, he’d see it coming. He wasn’t scared. Not exactly. But the fear had settled into him like muscle memory, impossible to unlearn.

Taking some calming breaths, he stirred the coffee he’d already ordered in lazy circles. There was something comforting about the swirl of cream in the dark liquid, a momentary distraction from the knot of nerves in his gut.

He glanced at his watch—still early, but not by too much. On an impulse, he waved the barista over and requested a hot chocolate “to have ready” when you arrived. He hoped you’d like it, but if not, he could claim it for himself and get you something else.

Every so often, he looked up from his mug to peer out the window. Eventually, he caught sight of you, weaving through the passers-by and pausing at the crossing. His pulse spiked. 

Suddenly, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he wave through the glass? That might be odd. Instead, he ducked his head, pretending to fiddle with the sugar packets on the table, as though he hadn’t just watched your every step across the street.

When the door opened, he glanced up. The sight of you, cheeks faintly flushed, made his heart do a little flip. You looked around, scanning the tables—your hair bouncing—until your eyes locked on him. As your face broke into a radiant smile, he stood so abruptly that he nearly toppled his coffee, earning a wary glance from the couple seated nearby.

“Hi,” you greeted, stepping forward as he awkwardly leaned in for a brief hug. 

You seemed comfortable with him. That was a good sign. 

“Hey,” he replied, breath catching in his throat. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long?”

His face heated. If only you knew how early he’d arrived. 

“Oh no,” he lied with a small shrug, “I’ve only been here a couple of minutes.”

“Well, that’s good,” you said. Your gaze drifted to the steamy mug sitting across from his coffee.

“I, uh, got you a hot chocolate,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. He tried to sound casual, but his nerves betrayed him, and there was a boyish quality to his voice.

“Presumptuous,” you teased, lifting an eyebrow, and he immediately blushed.

“What? Everyone likes hot chocolate.” He sank into his chair.

“Careful,” you teased further. “You might be spending too much time around second graders.”

He would agree with you there.

“Well, kids are usually right about these things.” He let out a short laugh, tension easing in his shoulders. “Especially chocolate.”

With a grin, you held the mug up to your lips, taking a slow sip. The appreciative hum you made was enough to send a spark of pride through him, and he mentally checked off a little “win” in his mind. 

This was already off to a good start.

You settled in your seat, and he took a moment to appreciate how easily you seemed to fit into this café’s atmosphere—warm and welcoming like the morning light. 

“So,” you asked, “are the kids enjoying their new books?”

“Yeah,” he replied, eyes lighting up. “Love ‘em—kind of surprised at how careful they’re being, too. Usually, I’m taping up ripped pages by now.”

“Seems like they listen to you,” you observed, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

“Sometimes they do.” He shrugged modestly. “Sometimes, they’ve got a mind of their own. But it’s good—keeps me on my toes.”

Your next question was casual, but he liked the genuine interest behind it.

“How long have you been teaching?”

“Few years now,” he said, gently pushing away the memories that threatened to surface. The path that had led him here hadn’t exactly been simple. “Didn’t go to college right away, and I was kind of drifting. Then I stumbled into a teacher training program, and… here I am.”

It was a more concise version of the truth—just enough to say without letting too many memories surface. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either; he wasn’t about to burden you with that.

“That’s really sweet,” you said softly, a note of sincerity in your tone.

He felt the back of his neck grow warm. 

“I enjoy it,” he confessed. “I always remembered the shy kids—how people used to pick on them. Thought if I can give them a good start, maybe they won’t have to worry as much… maybe they’ll carry that with them.”

He meant every word.

He had a soft spot for the quiet kids, the ones who lacked confidence—the ones he used to overlook. Maybe lifting them up was his way of making amends, a silent apology for the way he once treated his own peers. If they could find their footing a little sooner, maybe they’d never have to deal with a kid like he used to be. 

It was one of his biggest regrets, and he could only hope he was making up for it now.

Your eyes shone, and he watched the way your features softened at his explanation. The honesty in your expression made his chest tighten in the best way. He swallowed, nerves skittering again. He had to keep reminding himself not to monopolise the conversation with talk of the children, no matter how proud he was of them.

“So,” he ventured, quickly shifting gears, “are you new in Hawkins? Haven’t seen you around before.” Then his stomach lurched as your expression grew thoughtful, more pensive.

“Yeah, I inherited the bookstore,” you said, your tone gentle rather than pained. “My grandmother left it to me in her will.”

Mentally he kicked himself.

Way to go, Harrington.

“I’m—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right, really.” You waved away his concern with a small laugh. “I miss her, but being in that space she loved keeps me close to her, you know? It’s like she never really left.”

Relief washed over him, followed by a deeper admiration. You really were lovely, in that rare way some people are, managing to find the bright side even in the things that hurt. He wasn’t sure how you did it, brushed off something as big as death and still had room for warmth. 

He yearned for that—desperately. 

He felt more sure than ever that this date had been a good idea. You asked about the day-to-day with his class, and he found himself relaxed enough to share a few funny stories. There were paint smears and paper-mache disasters, random outbursts during quiet reading time, and the occasional meltdown when a pencil sharpened too short. 

You giggled freely at his over-the-top reenactments, caught up in the way he threw himself into the story with his whole body. He wasn’t just telling it—he was living it, every exaggerated gesture and animated expression pulling you in. 

You could picture his students, enraptured, hanging onto every word as he transformed the classroom into whatever world he wanted. He even did the voices. There was no hesitation, no self-consciousness, just him completely lost in the moment, unguarded and uninhibited, letting it take him somewhere else entirely.

He found himself almost giddy that you were humouring him, that you weren’t just listening but enjoying his retellings. Each chuckle warmed his chest, unfolding something fragile and long-dormant, finally given sunlight. It was a reassurance he hadn’t realised he needed. 

He could still make someone laugh. He could still be light, still be fun, still be someone worth listening to.

Eventually, the conversation began to wind down. You glanced at your watch with a regretful sigh. 

“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back and do some admin stuff at the shop.”

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, unable to completely hide his disappointment. He toyed with the corner of his napkin, eyes flicking from your face to the door. “Of course, don’t wanna eat up your Sunday.”

“But,” you added softly, your own reluctance clear in your voice, “I’d really like to see you again, if you’re up for it?”

His stomach did a joyous flip.

He had done it. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying not to sound too eager. “Absolutely—uh—I usually have weekends off, and anytime after five, really—school hours and all.”

“Do you have a pen?” you asked, casting a quick look around for one.

These days he was never without one—always needing something signed or scribbled. He rummaged in his jacket pocket, producing a slightly battered ballpoint. 

“Here.”

You leaned over and wrote your number on a clean napkin, sliding it across the table. 

“That’s the shop phone. I live right upstairs, so it'll reach me.”

He clutched the napkin as if it were precious—and to him it really was—heart thudding like it did the first time he’d asked you out. 

“I’ll call you,” he promised, nodding a few more times than necessary.

You stood, gathering your things, and he quickly rose to his feet as well. With a self-conscious smile, he reached for your jacket, holding it open for you. 

“Here—um, sorry… Force of habit.”

You slipped your arms through the sleeves, cheeks flushing. 

“Oh?”

“Y’know, recess duty—same motion.” He scratched his cheek. “Sorry that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all.” You giggled, giving him a soft, rosy-cheeked grin that made his heart lurch. “...It’s sweet.”

He walked with you to the door and pushed it open. You paused for a moment on the threshold, peering over your shoulder with one last smile.

“See you later, Mr. Harrington,” you teased gently, and he rolled his eyes with a playful groan.

“See you,” he managed, still reveling in the inexplicable joy that you wanted to see him again.

And then you were off, leaving him in the light of the morning that felt warmer. He slipped back into the café, dropping into his seat with a breathless feeling in his chest. Not wanting to go home just yet, he ordered another coffee. His therapist told him it was good for him to be out of the house. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, he realised he’d gone an entire hour without the memories of his past creeping in. No anxiety, no frantic heart pounding from a past he couldn’t escape. 

He smiled to himself as he fiddled with the napkin where your phone number was scrawled. Things were looking up for him, and he was already planning what he was going to say when he called you that evening. 

taglist: @daisy-is-a-writer

[ganondoodle]

in light of the news that riot games is letting go 11% of their workers (over 500 people), including long time workers responsible for big parts of the best lore in the entire league ip, AND cutting down LoR AND abandoning Riot Forge (the best idea they had in years lol)-

i stopped playing league a long time ago for multiple reasons, but one of the big ones were my annoyance with the increasingly shit ass monetization (thats only getting WORSE and MORE exploitative) and my frustration with its constant boring ass design decisions (like every new champ being either sexy girly girl that looks like all of the rest of them or sexy guy thats also starting to have the same problem plus all skins putting female champs in just another dress no matter how monsterfied the male champs were-) with my only interest in it being the lore and the attachment i felt to certain characters

im not even really interested in arcane anymore .. i was looking forward to it bc i like fortiches work alot but given how riot immedaitely wanted to make it canon (a dumb and stupid idea) after the first season was successful, which already made it less enjoyable for me, this is just ... idk, what does it matter

these news together with how bafflingly badly written totk was and its subpar quality (especialyl for that PRICE) that made me fear the future of loz yet it was still wildly sucessful (we deserve better than this!!), the recent commercial success of the plagiarism pokemon slavery/trafficking game and the general situation of the games industry, with AI rampant and CEOs sucking it up to shareholders only, constant massive lay offs everywhere in every studio

i have little hope left there will be new, good, games from big studios .. what an exhausting shitty world we live in

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

I can’t wait for Christ-psychological warfare-mas

[milkochaa]

i hate it when my episodes r bad enough that it's affecting my day-to-day functionality lmao

I dread going to work again and it's all due to my depressive episode causing me to spiral for the worse

And my coping mechanism is unhealthy, like I'm obsessively reading fics abt my faves n if I don't consume said media, I wld lose it all over again,,, the way they're my anchors is hilarious, pls 😟 make it end

the compartmentalisation n intellectuallising my emotions n feelings cld only work for so long before I tipped over again

I had a mini breakdown over my mom giving out my number to a family member without asking me for permission n she brushed it off as family and I still don't like it bc I know they're going to pester me and disturb abt niceties that makes me wanna claw my eyes out

I'm never good enough for them nor anyone for that matter lol

bc I failed my classes one too many times in college then I can't land a job fast enough or I can't stay in a job long enough then the job I am in isn't good enough or anyth of the sorts

the gifted kid to a problem child adult pipeline is so real lmao

sometimes I just wanna go back to when I was 12 and plan my future nicely 🤷🏻‍♀️ maybe smth would've change, maybe that time around

[administer-distractions]

.

[joemama-2]

it’s late at night. he’s already situated on the bed, seeing you come into the room with unkempt hair, you shirt has splotches of dried milk and your movements are slow. tired.

why wouldn’t you be?

an energetic three year old who’s just like his father is hard to maintain. though you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “come here, baby.” he pats his lap, grinning softly.

you look over from where you’re taking off your jewelry for the day, in attempt to get ready for your nightly shower. “hm? for what?”

his eyes follow your every movement, patting his lap once more. “you know exactly why. cmon, daddy needs some stress relief.”

the laugh you let out causes his face to soften, admiring you in a way that’s reserved solely for his wife, for the mother of his son. “i thought we agreed you couldn’t call yourself that anymore.”

he adjusts himself when he sees you come over, crawling on the bed to situate yourself in a straddling position over his hips. his hands fall into place on the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on the small patch of skin that shows when your shirt lifts up. “you did. i didn’t.”

“it’s cringey.”

“so?”

you huff, eyes rolling. he dips his head forward into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of warm kisses. “satoru, are you sure?”

“are you sure?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin. “i just want to pamper my wife after a long day, can’t i do that?”

“i feel hideous right now.”

he tips his head back, bright eyes staring back at you with an intensity you’ve come to associate with. the kind of intensity that lets you know whatever he says—he means it. “hideous? what did i say before, huh? i said don’t even think about saying stupid stuff like that again. and look at you now.”

your lips downturn. “don’t say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not,” he places a firm kiss to your lips. “you look beautiful every day, every second of the day. but you look especially gorgeous right now.”

you narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. “why right now?”

satoru’s lips quirk into a sly grin, his thumbs still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. "because right now, I see my whole world in front of me. the woman who gave me everything I could ever want—a family, a home, a reason to come back every single day.”

the weight of his words presses against the exhaustion hanging over you. it’s not just flattery. it’s raw and genuine, just like him, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. “you’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“and you’re so heavenly,” his grin widens, leaning in closer until your noses almost touch. “but you love my cheesiness, don’t you? admit it.”

your lips twitch, a small smile breaking through despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “maybe I do.”

“there it is,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if he’s handling something fragile. “that smile’s all I need to get through anything.”

the words wrap around your tired soul like a warm blanket. and for a moment, the weight of the day fades, replaced by the solid, steady presence of him—your husband, your partner, the man who never fails to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

you sigh, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” his voice is firm, his hands steady as they pull you just a little closer, subtly rubbing you against his clothed cock. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

and in that quiet, intimate moment, with the world outside fading into irrelevance, you believe him.

"now let me pamper you like I promised." he switches positions, hovering above you as you lay on your back. leaning down to raise the hem of your shirt, trailing sweet kisses and licks against your stomach—heading further south. your hips raise slightly as he discards your lounge pants, breath hitching in anticipation. hand running down through the streaks of his white hair, he smiles at the sight of your pussy hidden behind the grandma underwear you adorn.

hot breath tickling your core that leaves you almost jerking upwards for more. he kisses your clit through the loose fabric. “besides, mommy needs her fix too, doesn’t she?”

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Smile for the Camera

It’s 10pm sharp when I start my stream. I’ve always been on time, always with my makeup on flawlessly, hair styled perfectly, and bedroom set curated just right to show my pretty pink sheets and collection of toys.

I smile and wave at the camera, tossing my hair back to reveal the pink lingerie set I’ve chosen for tonight.

“Good evening everyone! I’m sooo glad to see so many of you tuning in!”

The chat inbox floods with greetings from my audience and there’s an influx of money that comes from my particularly generous viewers. I giggle and flirt with my viewers, many of whom who have become regulars in my viewership population.

Someone in the audience asks for a strip tease and I feel my pussy pulse in response, looking forward to a night of performing for my devoted viewers.

I start slow, running my fingers up and down my body, brushing gently over my lingerie-clad nipples and whimpering loudly for the microphone to pick up. My eyes stare into the camera, all of my thoughts melting away as I fall into my role of entertainer.

Teasingly, I pull along the shoulder straps of my top, letting the fabric fall away from my chest to show off my perky tits and hardened nipples that are always a fan favorite. My hands dance over my chest, pulling gently at my nipples in a way that makes my moans completely genuine. My eyes glance to the screen and I see the excitement building in my chat box, and my account balance steadily rising.

Suddenly, I hear the lock on my door click and my body goes cold. The door to my room is out of the video shot, behind my camera setup and before I can even react, the door slams open.

I let out a startled yelp as my arms instinctively cover my chest. In the corner of my eye, I see the chat go crazy as my audience tries to figure out what it is they’re hearing but not seeing off screen. My attention is wholly focused on the man whose frame fills my doorway.

I scramble off my bed. “What the fuck? Why are you in my house?” My voice is shaking with fear and shrill with panic. I’m far too preoccupied to even think about the livestream anymore.

My fear deepens when I see him leer at me and stalk through my door and towards me without any hesitation.

“A fucking whore like you should be more gracious to me,” he says, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint. He and I are both in the camera’s view now and the viewers on my stream are firing off more messages than before, speculating over who he is and what is going on.

Without saying anything else, he moves to me faster than I can evade and grabs my hair. My mouth opens to scream but before sound can escape, he throws me chest down onto my bed. The air is forced out of my lungs and for a moment, I’m still and stunned. The next moment, he’s on me.

His hand is buried in my hair, keeping my face pressed down against the bed while he forces my ass up into the air. I struggle uselessly against him, unable to push up off the bed or move myself away from his ironclad grip. My cries are muffled against my bed and I want to scream and yell for help but there’s not enough air in my lungs.

His free hand lands a sharp slap against my ass that make me jolt forwards and arch my back further in pain. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to land blow after blow. My arms begin to flail, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto as I struggle.

“Stop fucking moving, whore,” he growls at me. I feel the spanks subside for a moment and I can feel my ass burning red and throbbing from the pain. My head spins from the abuse and the lack of oxygen. I feel his large hand find my wrist, his fingers locking around me in a bruising hold as he yanks my arm behind my back, straining my shoulder.

The hand on my head finally comes away and I raise my head just enough to gasp in much-needed oxygen. In that split second, he’d grabbed and secured my other arm behind my back as well, his one hand effortless holding my arms crossed behind my back. My body is still bent over, knees on the bed and ass up in the air. My only saving grace is that I can raise my head enough to breathe and glance at my laptop, showing the livestream still ongoing.

My eyes dart across the screen, reading messages as fast as I can. None of them show any concern for me, in fact, a vast majority are discussing how much they wished they were the ones holding my body down in this moment.

“Fuck yes, show that whore her place.”

“God, what would I do to be there to punish her for always teasing us.”

“I bet her cunt is dripping wet right now.”

I whine softly when I see that message because it’s right. “Please, let me go!” I turn my head to look at the menace of a man behind me. He flashes a dark grin at me, “Not until I fuck you out of your whore mind.”

His words echo in my head and panic rises within me. “Please! No! Stop! Someone help me!” I make eye contact with the camera, begging at its cold, dark lens.

He laughs behind me. “There’s no one here to help you, whore. You and I both know that every single person watching behind their computer screen is more than eager to see your whore body get ruined.”

As he speaks, his free hand pulls his belt and pants undone enough for him to pull his massive cock out. I let out a choked gasp when I see it.

“Wait, no, please, you’re too big, it’s not going to fit! Please!” My voice shakes and I start to struggle harder against him. His body dwarfs mine and I watch through the camera as he rips my panties off, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, whore.” I feel the head of his cock brush against my dripping slit and my eyes widen.

“Wait, please-” My begging ends in a wail as he slams himself into me to the hilt. The painful stretch makes tears spring into my eyes but unimaginable pleasure quickly follows as his cock nudges into every sensitive spot inside of me. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to rut into me mercilessly.

Every thrust makes my body shake with pain-tinged pleasure and pathetic moans are spilling out of my mouth as my eyes roll upwards. My hazy vision catches a glimpse of us on the camera. I look like a rag doll, back arched, ass in the air, and shuddering as he towers over me, his cock sinking into my cunt.

Every thrust is accompanied by the squelch of my wetness and the sound of our bodies slamming into each other. The bed creaks under us as his body moves like a machine, drilling into me. “Fuck, you tight fucking whore, your pussy was made for me huh?”

His voice is guttural. Suddenly, he grips my upper arms and yanks me upwards. His other hand comes around to grip my throat as he traps me against his front. The new angle makes his cock stab even deeper into me, forcing a cry from my lips.

“Look at the fucking camera, whore. Show them what a fucked out little slut you are. Go ahead, smile for the camera.” His thrusts seem to come even faster now.

I have tears falling from my eyes as my face reddens from his constricting grip around my neck.

“Smile or I choke you out on my cock like this,” he snarls, hips never stuttering in their punishing pace. I let out a muffled groan and try my best to focus myself enough to obey.

I stare through half-lidded eyes at the camera, barely coherent. My lips pull up in a small, desperate smile as I feel myself gradually running out of air.

“Good fucking whore. Now tell them how much you like having your whore cunt fucked.” His hand leaves my throat and goes to pinch my clit harshly, making me squeal.

“Ah- I like having, ah-, my whore cunt fucked!” My voice is hoarse, my orgasm fast approaching as he starts to roughly roll my clit between his fingers.

“That’s right, and you’re going to cum like this aren’t you, whore? Come on, cum all over me, show them how much you love this.” His words combined with the brutal assault on my body push me over the edge and with a desperate wail, I fall apart.

I hear him groan lowly behind me as my pussy clenches around him, my orgasm ripping through my senses. He uses my body harder than ever, treating me like a sex toy as he chases his own release. He slams himself into me one final time as he erupts, his grip bruising my arms as he keeps me in place.

I collapse against him, a boneless, overstimulated mess. He lets me down gently onto the bed, pulling out of me. The sound of his cock squelching out of my pussy makes my viewers more than aware of how well-fucked I am. He steps away from the bed and towards my filming setup. He leans into the camera and smirks.

“Let me know how else you want to see this whore fucked. If your idea is good, maybe I’ll let you come and enjoy her too.” With that, he shuts the camera off and closes out of the streaming site.

My body is still limp on the bed. I feel him settle next to me and pull me close before brushing my hair away from my forehead and kissing my nose.

“Do you think they liked me?” His murmurs.

“They loved you,” I say, breathless and drowsy from what we just did.

“I hope so, I wouldn’t want my debut on your stream to make a bad first impression,” he says, frowning down at me a little. It makes me let out a soft laugh.

I tilt my head up to kiss his jawline, “Only you would fuck the life out of me on livestream and then worry that you did a bad job.”

I giggle again and he grumbles back at me, “Shut up and sleep, I’ll clean up.” His kiss on my forehead is the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.

[pythonmoth]

cw: violence. heavy torture. stress incontinence (brief). hurt/no comfort.

simon riley x f!reader. soap x f!reader if you squint.

Last | Next

It's calm.

The sea breeze brushes against your cheeks, your skin warm under the sun, and your toes squirming in the sand. You've been begging your parents to take you to the beach for months since middle school started, and now you're here.

Family. Your cousins, your siblings, your aunties and uncles. Nothing can ruin it! It's perfect.

A bucket of sea water hits you from the back, making you gasp. In an instant, you're up. "You guys are dead!" you scream, laughing as you chase after them.

It's so, so nice.

Then, a weird smell makes you pause as you're chasing your favorite older cousin, knee deep in the ocean.

It brings you back to when you were a toddler, picking up one of your grandfather's old rags, forgotten in a corner. It'd seen too many raining days, all crumpled up. It was sour. Foul.

Almost like poison.

But why did you remember such thing right now?

Your cousin's dark eyes glint, but you can't focus. No, you can't move as she gently makes you lay down in the water, claiming it's a game, and sits on top of you, the sea water filling your lungs.

You scream and fight, your little strength leaving you, until you're finally breaking through the surface.

Another splash of salty water, much colder, wakes you up with a gasp.

"Up" Price's voice says.

You bite back a whimper of pain when Soap roughly grips your hair and drags you up along with the chair from the floor, since Price kicked you the night before. Soap doesn't look at you even once.

"Since you won't open your mouth, let's continue" the captain hums, looking mildly entertained.

"Price, I genuinely don't know anything. I'm not a traitor. You have to believe me, please—"

Smack.

"Save it. It all points to you, so you either speak now, or we start having fun".

Everything hurts, it's all fuzzy and every single inch of your body is burning, yet you still look up at Price, then at Soap. Again, he won't even look at you.

"Where's Simon?" you mumble, trembling. There's silence, but you don't let it stretch. "Please, I really have nothing to do with any of this. Be reasonable. There's nothing in it for me. Why would I sell us out?!"

The door springs open, and your head snaps up. Your world crumbles down as Simon comes in with a little box.

The tools.

At once, you reach another level of panic.

Pure, unadulterated dread.

"Stop! No. No, please. I'm innocent. Simon. Please, stop this!" you wail loudly, your hands clenching hard on the armrests of the chair, uselessly trying to keep them from getting to your fingers.

It doesn't matter how hard you cry out for them to listen. It doesn't matter how badly you fight, leaning forward to push your head against Simon's chest, pleading with him.

There's no coming back from this.

Please. I love you. Please.

When the first nail is ripped off from your fingertip, the intensity of your screams makes Price look away for the first time.

It takes three fingernails and a handful of questions you can't focus on for Soap to turn away from you.

Five.

Away.

Please.

Eight.

It all feels so far away.

Distantly, you feel warmth, right on the chair. For a happy moment you melt into it, too tired to think much of it. Simon's eye twitches at the sight, the white in his eyes bloodshot, and he has to physically stop himself from saying anything.

"I want to die" you croak out, your chin pressed to your chest.

Your heart is pounding in your ears, in your raw fingertips. Your voice doesn't feel yours anymore.

"No. Give me their names".

"I don't know, goddammit!" you scream, your face contorted with pain and anger. So much anger. "Fuck you! I don't know shit. I'm sick and tired of this. I didn't do anything!"

It doesn't matter when Simon rips off another fingernail.

Nine.

It doesn't matter when Soap presses the same disgusting rag against your face, the cold salty water filling your lungs again.

You don't fight.

What for? They want information you can't provide. And you're angry.

Ten.

"I'm breaking up with you" you say, your voice firm, despite the intense shaking in your body.

The pain must have cleared your mind because you just look straight forward, not meeting Ghost's eyes as you speak.

You don't want to look at him.

"I don't want your regret" you continue, your heart slowing down. There's an old bloody spot on the door. You focus on it. "The three of you are dead to me when this is all over".

"Enough chatting. Go on!" Price snaps. You don't hear the trembling in his voice.

The salty water just keeps on coming.

Maybe you hear it. You don't care.

You're not sure for long it goes. Half of your toes are throbbing by the time Price storms out of the room, Soap and Ghost gathering their things to leave.

There are deep cuts in the arch of your feet, several of your toenails scattered on the floor, and the foul smell of urine and blood. Your throat is sore and raw from screaming, and sobbing.

You must've passed out, because you wake up to Ghost's hands untying you quickly, words of apology leaving his lips, curses and promises. You can hear Soap rushing in, the two of them arguing and then running.

Gasps and curses are heard all around the base as Ghost takes you to the medics, demanding them to tend to you now.

It's an order.

[fakeuwus]

MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M)

PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.

WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! vrignity loss, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. cursing, words like slut/whore, BARELY PROOFREAD

WC: 5k, lowercase intended

MESSAGE FROM NIC: here it finally is!! (sorry for the delay) my first piece of smut,,, hope it's what everyone imagined 😁 (also tysm for 2k notes on the teaser ahh!!) big thank u to my stella, @karinasbaby for encouraging this fic, one of my biggest supporters ilysm. pls be kind as this is something new for me BUT feedback is super appreciated, tell me what u liked and didn't like! (respectfully) also reblogs would be nice as well so feel free to drop one. love u guys sm 🫶🏼

jake sim was a virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and it’s not like he was ugly. not even close to that. jake was an attractive guy, easy on the eyes. and his flirting? a real smooth talker he was.

it was as if 2000s chad michael murray possessed his very soul every single time he would chat up a girl at a party or in class. 

so why couldn't he ever close the deal? how did he find himself in a steamy makeout session one second and then the next the girl is storming out of the room in disgust. every. single. time.

oh yea, because he was a fucking virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. 

it seemed like girls these days wanted a man in charge. someone who could help them live out their fifty shades of grey fantasies. jake would like to think he could do that for them but how could he ever learn if no one wanted to give him the time of day? what happened to the girls that would spread their legs for anything and anyone?

all jake needed was one chance. one chance to stick his dick in a hole and he can move on with his life. 

his friends didn't make it any better either. he was getting tired of hearing all about their wild sexcapades every week and having nothing to contribute to the conversation.

but they don’t intentionally leave him out or make him feel bad about his lack of experience. they even try getting him with their past hookups because you know, sharing is caring right? 

“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit every time, once i tell them im a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals sunghoon’s sandwich and takes a bite for himself.

sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesnt “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”

“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow now ended up in his hands.

“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. there's no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off.

this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.

—-----------------

“oh fuck!” jakes pants while bucking his hips forward. vision blurry, drool pooling around the corner of his mouth. he genuinely feels like his soul is leaving his body and he wasn’t sure this was even real life anymore. to ground himself and bring him back to reality, he tries looking around the room to find something to distract him.

he doesn’t want to cum embarrassingly fast and he does NOT want to be seen as a bad fuck. out of the corner of his eye he spots a baby yoda squishmallow in the corner of the room, its sparkly eyes watching jake get his dick sucked for the first time.

it’s kind of weird but he finds comfort in the plushie and focuses on it to keep him from fucking exploding. 

now you might be wondering how he got here. in a hot girl’s room getting what he swears is the best head in his life (not that he has anything to compare it to.) the answer is jay, his best friend in the entire world who he now owes his first born to. 

“her name’s yn. just text her and ask when she wants to meet. i told her you were a virgin already so don’t worry about that,” jay explains as he’s scrolling through your profile showing jake what you look like.

silky, flowy hair, curves to die for. to say you’re gorgeous would be an understatement. the whole ordeal seemed too good to be true.

“she wants to fuck me? even after hearing i’m a virgin?” jake asks after grabbing his milk tea from the counter and walking towards a table.

jay simply nods and throws a look towards sunghoon, signaling him to explain the rest as they all take a seat. “yea that’s kind of her thing. she loves virgins. like, her body count consists of only virgins.”

jake was perplexed by the situation. surely he’d hear about a beautiful woman who only drops her panties for inexperienced guys roaming their campus.

heeseung then speaks up, as if reading jake’s mind, “she goes to the college in the next town over. around a 20 minute drive.” before continuing his sentence he shifts his eyes towards jay and sunghoon. eyeballs darting back and forth.

some unspoken dialogue is happening between the three as they sip their sweet drinks and jake just has to sit there and watch. minutes go by and jay clears his throat and sighs, finally breaking the silence.

“she uh, actually took all of our virginities back in high school. that’s how we know her.” 

pause. the fuck? he knew his friends all have gotten their dicks wet for the same girl before but at the same time? jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. i mean, he did only just meet them three years ago, whatever they were up to before then he can’t judge.

he supposes desperate times call for desperate measures, and jake is sure he would’ve ended up in the same situation soon if they weren’t handing you on a silver platter to him.

“so… you guys had a foursome for your first times??”

heeseung instantly chokes on his boba as jake’s arm receives a punch from jay. a faint giggle is heard from sunghoon, “this bitch is choking on some balls.”

ignoring heeseung’s dramatics jay clarifies, “no you idiot, she took all of our virginities separately. we weren’t as desperate as you were.”

“and like, that pussy is so heavenly. i’d be pissed having to share her with another guy at the same time.” 

“roger that, brother.”

jake looks towards the two, sunghoon rubbing heeseung’s back trying to calm him down from his almost near death over some balls. 

“care to elaborate?” 

“man why do you think we’re all sex crazed freaks? her pussy’s got some voodoo magic in it or something. our manhood didn’t begin when we watched porn for the first time together, it started with her,” jay pauses and shifts in his seat, slight discomfort in his lower region.

he looks up and pinches his nose, “fuck i’m getting hard just thinking about it.” sneaking a peek at jay’s lower half, jake can see his friend chubbing it up in his pants. nothing he’s never seen before honestly. 

but what he hadn't seen before was how his friends were reminiscing so hard on a hook up the way they were right now. and the fact that their origin story of discovering their high libidos is all because of you? he was scared shitless of what he was about to get himself into.

-------------------

fast forward to some exchanged texts between you guys, jake found himself in your room with his pants around his ankles getting the life sucked out of him.

he quickly discovered you were very straightforward and to the point, immediately sending him your apartment address and what time to show up.

jake couldn’t argue though, all this talk about how you were gonna “change his life” and shit got him real worked up. he appreciated the fact that you skipped the small talk and went straight for his dick.

upon arriving and stepping into your living space, your lips smashed onto his and he was pushed down onto the bed. no hi, no hello. just your lucious, full lips swapping spit with his.

his hands instinctively flew to your waist, his digits gripping your plush skin as you straddle him. jake felt so in his element in the moment. making out? this is where he excels. he could do this all day if he could.

but he was here on a mission and he’ll be damned if he leaves without fucking you. or you fucking him. he was honestly down for whatever. you could ask to peg him and he would say yes.

you can sense his impatience, his face twisting in pleasure trying to savor every moment while the cogs are turning in his head, awaiting your next move. every squeeze he gave signaled that he wanted to get things moving.

you make your way down his body, peppering kisses any and everywhere leaving his skin burning. jake couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

in less than a minute he was about to get his first blowjob ever. what does he do? where do his hands go? what if he chokes you? what if he passes out from the stimulation?

before he can think of anymore what to do’s and what if’s, your mouth is on his dick and jake is seeing stars, figuratively and literally. he takes note of the little ones taped to your ceiling and thinks it’s cute.

the pink walls and plushies surrounding the two of you is such a stark contrast to your personality, or what little jake knows of you. but hey, he likes a woman with some duality to her.

“you can put your hands in my hair.”

jake finally takes a look down at you. pupils blown out, lips a bit swollen from all the sucking. you looked so, so pretty like this. he can only imagine what you look like with his cock in you.

trembling hands grab at your hair, slightly pushing you further down and a gagging noise emerges from the back of your throat. oh shit. your nose is practically meeting his pelvic bone and you aren’t letting up.

fuck it, jake thinks to himself. he was done with being patient. he starts fucking up into your mouth relentlessly, chasing the orgasm he was delaying. and you just let him.

you’re merely a hole for him in this moment and you could care less. his dick may be average in size but the girthiness of it was so delicious, you couldn’t get enough.

to make sure he reaches his high, you reach for his balls and start playing with them. his erratic thrusts combined with you squeezing his genitals he twitches in your mouth and his cum is shooting out, pooling out the sides of your lips.

and you don’t stop there. you keep going and going and jake actually feels like he’s going to pass out. “okay, okay please please!” you swallow everything he gave you and finally let him go with a pop to come up for air.

you get up and see him lying there on your bed, unmoving. eyes closed and mouth agape barely taking breaths. one might think he’s dead but this was typical.

once a guy gets to cum in a girl’s mouth for the first time they don’t know what to do with themselves. nudging him with your knee he breaks out of his trance with a lopsided smile adorning his face. god he’s adorable.

before you can suggest a break he immediately grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your back. your shorts go flying onto the floor behind him and he spreads your legs wide to prop them onto his shoulders.

his tongue immediately attaches to your clit and he starts licking you all over. slurping and sucking, as if this was his last meal on earth. he was desperate to get you to cum the way you made him and it was showing.

jake’s eating you out a little too expertly to your liking, as if he’s done this a million times. you won’t judge if he has, you’re literally the last person to judge someone’s sexual history but how is he still a virgin if he eats pussy this good?

he must’ve been met with horrible women who just used him for his mouth and left him dry. you wouldn’t do that to him though, poor guy doesn’t deserve that.

he inserts two fingers into your hole while his mouth was still working your clit. jesus christ. you didn’t notice before but his fingers were so slender and long, reaching places your own didn’t. “am i doing okay? kind of my first time.”

oh? so this was his first time eating pussy. you simply give him a nod of approval, not being able to utter a word as he dives right back in.

in all of your sexual encounters, never has there been a guy so willing to return the favor. and the fact that you didn’t even have to ask? where the fuck did jay find a guy like this? was he aware his friend was a fucking certified munch?

determined to make sure you cum, jake inserts another finger and moves his fingers in an upward motion, trying to find your spot. at least that’s what wikihow told him how to do it.

the sound of your moans and the taste of your pussy on his tongue simply feel amazing and he feels like he could come alone like this. at this point you’re panting and riding his fingers and god it’s so hot. you’re so hot.

jake finds himself humping into the mattress, trying to aid his painful hard on he’s grown since going down on you.

his wrist begins to ache with how fast he’s pumping into you but he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll do anything to see what you look like when you reach your high.

“oh god, i’m, i’m- ahhh!” you come undone onto his mouth and hand, lips forming an o shape with the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard and he silently releases his load along with you onto the bed.

jake makes sure every single drop of your delicious juices are all licked up, driving your oversensitivity.

“so? how was i?”

you take a look at his annoyingly cute face and he’s licking all over his fingers like a lollipop. cute. gaining some of your composure, your eyes spot a wet spot on your sheets.

“wait, did you…”

“oh. sorry about that. i couldn’t help it.” jake explains with a sheepish smile and a scratch behind his head. not only is this guy a munch but he came untouched while tongue fucking you. you weren’t even sure guys like him existed, like at all.

without speaking another word, you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his. tasting yourself on him has you wet all over again and you both begin to undress each other.

you detach yourself to take your shirt off and he pauses to fully look at you, drinking in every inch of your body. hands grab at your boobs and he pinches a nipple, a small moan escaping your mouth.

your body was literally to die for, the pictures on your profile barely doing you justice. and to finally be able to feel all around your curves and give your boods and ass tight squeezes was a dream come true for jake.

(he may or may not have been jerking off to the few posts you have up, counting down the days of you guys finally meeting but you didn’t have to know that)

you also took a moment to admire his body. to say jake was sculpted like a fucking greek god was an understatement, sporting a six pack and biceps to die for. veins running all over his arms and hands.

deciding it’s finally time to do the deed, you switch positions and motion for him to lay on his back. “are you ready?”

“wait! what about a condom?”

“i’m clean and i know you are so…”

“right.”

you throw your legs over his waist, now straddling him with your vagina inches from his cock. “okay, take deep breaths. i’m gonna slowly go down alright?”

jake throws a thumbs up and eagerly nods. in a moment like this he doesn’t fail to be endearing. you could literally just eat him up with how cute he was. your pussy was about to anyway.

you lace your fingers with his and slowly lower yourself onto him. there’s some intimacy with your actions and jake finds comfort in your eyes, looking at him adoringly.

it was finally fucking happening and jake couldn’t believe it. he was about to become a man. and the fact that it was you taking his virginity, a gorgeous woman who doesn’t care that he’s inexperienced and lets him hit it raw. it's really all he can ask for.

once your walls are wrapped around his tip, jake’s a goner. the little sweet moment you two shared is thrown out the window and he starts bucking his hips up into you, hard and fast.

his hands find purchase on your hips and he’s gripping them so hard you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. you wanted to start out slow as it is his first time but it seems his thrusting says otherwise.

you press your hands against his chest and begin to move rhythmically in sync with him. jake’s eyes immediately roll back and his breathing quickens.

his hands fall to his side and he lays lifeless beneath you, letting you take full control.

all he could do was stare at the spot where his dick entered you and it was making him even more hornier. he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

your wetness didn’t help anything either. the squelching sounds indicated that you were very much enjoying this as much as he was.

“fuck you feel so good baby,” jake moans. the pet name that slips past his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you also don’t question it.

for some reason the simple word made your heart jump. guys always called things like babe or even whore when they really let loose.

those never got to your head, you know they couldn’t really control themselves in the moment and you let them have their fun.

but jake has been nothing but kind to you this whole time, like he knew you were doing him a service and not the other way around.

this only fueled your desire to ensure that his sure first time exceeded his expectations so upped your menstrations. you quickly changed your pace to grind forward, backwards, and in circles making sure his dick felt every inch of you.

jake’s mind was reeling, his breath caught in his throat. he feels as if his dick was about to fall off with the way you were moving.

your body leans forward and you begin to kiss at his neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. your hot breath near his ear sends him into overdrive, must be a sensitive spot of his he never knew he had, but also how could he have known?

his hands that were once gripping the sheets meet your ass and he starts to guide you up and down his cock. you both were about to reach your climaxes, your pussy clenching with every move.

“i’m- where? fuck! where do i cum?”

“inside. cum inside me please.”

inside?? his first time cumming from sex and you were gonna let him do it inside of you? jake swears you couldn’t be any more perfect than you are right now.

you knew you threw him for a loop and honestly yourself as well. pushing these thoughts towards the back of your head you start riding him aggressively, even faster than before. “fuck, jake i’m cumming!”

“me too baby oh my god!”

and there was that damn pet name again. it makes your heart leap out of your chest and sends you over the edge.

the knot in your stomach snaps and jake follows shortly after, his load shooting into you. it pools out of you and you don’t hesitate to swipe some up with a delicate finger and bring it to your mouth, mirroring his actions from earlier.

your eyes meet his fucked out ones and you smile down at him, admiring the masterpiece of lovebites you left all over him. his vision was a bit blurry but he catches the way your lips curled upward, flashing your pearly whites.

jake finds himself instantly becoming hard again, call him easy but when a pretty girl is smiling at him like that after fucking him, can you really blame him?

you move yourself off of him and jake was fully expecting you to kick him out now but instead you position yourself on all fours, your ass in the air inviting him in.

“fuck. you’re into anal?”

you turn your head sharply to look at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow to question what he just said. the look you give him says it all and jake takes the hint and positions himself behind you.

“can we try anal next time though?”

an exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you reach over to grab his dick, inserting him into you. “umph! okay sorry.”

upon entering your pussy, jake relishes in the feeling of it. being inside your heat again leaves him breathless for the nth time today.

in and out. in and out. he tries to match his breathing with his gradual strokes. his member is extra sensitive right now and he’s trying not to lose himself. the impatience he had earlier has now moved onto you so you decide to take matters into your own hands and start fucking back into him.

your ass is now meeting his hips and the sound of skin slapping echoes in your room along with your moans. jake’s body is flailing from the sudden impact but he grounds his hands around your waist and grips the shit out of you.

he notices bruises forming on your skin but he can’t for the life of him let go. oops. he’ll do his best to remember to apologize for them tomorrow.

when there’s a good pace between the two of you, you fling yourself upward, back meeting his chest and the new angle has him reaching spots he didn’t before.

you take one of his strong arms and place it around your neck, having him choke you as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. jake’s brain begins to turn to mush and he feels like he’s even more turned on at the revelation of one of your kinks.

and at this point you’re fucking onto him so hard, so good, he didn’t want it to end. “shit. shit. i love your pussy so much baby.” jake whines into your ear, meaning every word he said.

is it crazy to say you love someone upon meeting them for the first time? well, their pussy. yea. maybe. but who gives a fuck.

he was a man possessed by you, by your pussy. in this moment he truly believed there was some voodoo magic going on down there and he was blessed to be experiencing it.

you clench at his words, and your heart flips once more, prompting you to draw him closer to you (if that was even remotely possible)

the closeness of your bodies creates another intimate moment shared, kisses stolen from one another, hands tangled in his hair.

“i’m close,” he whispers in your ear, his breath leaving tingles down your spine. the hushed whispers you exchange contrast the sporadic thrusting that’s happening.

determined to reach your second high of the day, you push jake onto his back and settle yourself onto your knees, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock.

“yea just like that baby, shit shit shit i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

jake opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold before him and god was it something. your back arches as you take his cum in you once more and your screams fill his ears, signaling you orgasmed right after him.

this moment alone is better than porn itself, and jake savors every bit of it. there’s absolutely no way he can even bring himself to type “nsfw” in his twitter search bar ever again after this.

you hover yourself over him leaving just the tip inside before sliding right back down, pushing his seed back in while it gushes around his cock leaving jake wanting, no needing, a third round with you.

but to his dismay you roll yourself off of his body, landing on the mattress next to him.

“so… how do you feel?”

he releases a long exhale he didn’t know he was holding, “fantastic. 10/10 experience. would do it again.” you simply giggle at his response with a shake of your head, getting up to gather your clothes.

“wait! um, could we do this again?”

you playfully roll your eyes at him, leaving his question unanswered as you begin to dress yourself.

—-----------------

sat in his computer chair, jake is finding it difficult to finish this stupid ethics assignment. how is he supposed to argue about the death penalty when you straight up almost murdered him with your pussy less than 2 hours ago?

he’s sure his professor wouldn’t appreciate if he wrote that he doesn’t give a fuck about someone serving their punishment if the culprit was you, but honestly speaking he’d let you get away with just about anything. you were an angel sent from above to him who could do no wrong. 

the way your soft lips wrapped around his cock while your innocent (not) eyes bored into his soul. the way you licked and kissed every single inch of his body, leaving nothing left untouched. and god, the way you worked his dick? how was he supposed to move on from you??

you were an insatiable, sex-crazed goddess. a once in a lifetime experience he was so grateful to have. 

his thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. two seconds later, jay trails into jake’s room followed by dumb and dumber, all of them having a snug look on their faces.

they make themselves comfortable before they get right into the interrogation. jay leans against the desk, sunghoon sits in the bean bag situated in the corner, and heeseung sprawls himself across the bed.

“so virgin, how was it?”

 “wasn’t i right about her pussy?” 

“where did she make you cum?” 

eyes rolling in the back of his head, jake takes a deep sigh before answering their questions. “one, i’m not a virgin anymore so stop calling me that. two, it was absolutely fucking amazing. literally would give up heaven for it. and three, she had me cum in her. twice.”

heeseung shoots up from his position, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “you came in her twice?!” the boys all share a bewildered expression on their faces, dramatic as always.

jake just shrugs at them, what? didn’t you usually let guys cum in you like the freak you were?

jay slaps his hands down on jake’s shoulders, aggressively turning the computer chair towards him. “jake. buddy. yn has two rules.” 

sunghoon suddenly appears on jay’s left, “one. you can’t cum in her. you can cum anywhere BUT inside of her.” 

heeseung follows and is now on jay’s right side, “and two. she doesn’t repeat fuck.”

immediately following this revelation there’s silence.  complete and utter silence.  the gazes they hold are intense and uninviting. as if they truly couldn’t believe you let their best friend who’s never felt the touch of a woman break one of your rules.

their eyes say it all, they love jake to death and are happy for him, like seriously happy and relieved he’s finally entered manhood. but really? none of them got to do what he did? what was so special about him?

you don’t even know the answer to those questions yourself. maybe it was the puppy eyes or his whiny moans that made you feel like you had him in the palm of your hands.

his eagerness to pleasure you but to also receive reminded you of the sole purpose of why you only go for virgins. they made you feel wanted while also letting you be in charge. call it selfishness but why can’t a girl have the best of both worlds? 

and you’d never admit it, but jake was one of the best fucks you’ve had in a while. he never tried to be someone he wasn’t, just authentically himself. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and he was proud of it.

it was refreshing to fuck someone who didn’t have some sort of ego right after you were done with them. immediately bragging to everyone what you two did and acting like they could pull any girl as if you weren’t doing charity work for most of them. 

with all of this in mind, of course you let him cum in you. he was doing so well for you, how could you not reward him? had to let him do it twice to drive it home.

and seriously, what kind of guy gives you a tender, sweet goodbye kiss and thanks you for defiling him? you didn’t regret your decisions with him but they were definitely scaring you. 

never have you ever been this intimate with a guy, but jake was different. you felt it. and what you did next didn’t scare you as much as your recent choices with him.

*ping!*

the staredown between jake and his friends comes to a halt and he digs his phone out of his pocket to check it. sliding up, he sees the message appear on his screen:

you: are you free tomorrow?

he glances at his friends’ expectant eyes and throws them a smirk. looks like he gets to break that second rule of yours. 

© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize

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[munsonsmixtapes]

hello! if you have the time could you please write soft Eddie guiding a shy reader when they make out for the first time?

part two

There's a knock on Eddie's door and he hurries to answer it, hoping it's who he thinks it is. He isn't expecting anyone else, but it's not uncommon for people to show up looking to buy from him, but he really hopes it's you. He's been looking forward to tonight for over a week since you suggested it. He opens the door and there you are, beautiful as ever.

He steps aside and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you enter the trailer. You hold out a DVD and a few of Eddie's favorite snacks and he can't help but smile at how sweet you are. You've only been on a few dates and hopes he wouldn't scare you off if he proposed. Because if he's being honest, he can't see himself with anyone else.

No one he's dated has ever been so sweet to him. All they seemed to be interested in was using him for his body and rarely anything else. He wasn't really known as Eddie "the freak" Munson (well, maybe in other ways) anymore, but it still seemed like people didn't want anything else from him besides drugs or sex.

But you? All you seem to want from him is his company, genuinely interested in all of his fun facts that he has about random subjects and you even laugh at his jokes. And they aren't pity laughs either. You're a breath of fresh air and he hopes you'll stick around forever.

"You didn't have to do all this," he tells you with a smile as he takes the stuff from you. You're staring down at the floor and he can tell you're getting shy on him again. He doesn't mind, though. He thinks it's cute.

"Of course I did," you insist. "I wanted to treat you for once," you then smile and Eddie never gets tired of seeing it.

"Well I'm not going to say no to that," he responds then takes you by the hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Now c'mon."

You follow him over to the couch and the two of you sit together, but you make sure to leave a little space to be polite. You want to be cuddled up into his side, though. You want rest your head on his chest as his hand lazily runs up and down your back.

A lot of the people you've out with all seemed to be after one thing so it warms your heart that Eddie is willing to go at your pace. He always waits for you to initiate things like hugs or kisses and waits until you pull away, never asking for more. He's nothing but a gentleman and you really like spending time with him.

Eddie spreads out all of the movies you brought, his eyebrows quirking at the variety. You seem to have an eclectic taste and he admires that. He plucks the horror movie from the selection and heads over to the VCR. As soon as his back is turned, you begin to panic. You had only brought the movie to give you excuse to get close to him because of the scary scenes, but now you're beginning to regret your decision.

Eddie turns back to you and you try to hide your fear, debating on telling him that you'd rather watch something else, but you can't yourself to form the words. So you just sit in silence as Eddie moves back over to the couch, sitting even closer to you now and your fear takes over as you throw yourself into his arms.

Eddie lets out a laugh at your eagerness but he wraps his arms around you anyway, pulling you even closer to him as he turns his head towards the screen. You instantly feel better knowing that he'll keep you safe but can't help but think about what Steve told you when he rented the movie out to you.

He told you that it was the scariest movie he'd ever seen and that he couldn't sleep for days afterwards. And you rented it anyway even though he had suggested many more options that weren't nearly as scary and would still help you get into Eddie's arms despite how silly he thought the idea was.

The movie hasn't even started and you're already burying your head into his chest, gripping his shirt in your fists as tight as possible. His hand moves up to stroke the back of your head as he murmurs something to you that you can't quite hear.

"Hey, hey," he says as grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. His are nothing but soft as they look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, suddenly feeling silly for how scared you just were. "It's nothing."

"We don't have to watch the movie," he tells you. "If you were scared, why didn't you say something?" It's a fair question, but you stay silent, not wanting to tell him the truth.

"I-" you start to say but cut yourself off, not wanting to admit the truth nor finding the right words to use.

"You what, honey?" He asks, his hands moving up and down your back exactly the way you wanted him to. Sometimes you're convinced he's a mind reader.

"I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you," you tell him, your voice so soft he almost didn't hear you. And at that, Eddie lets out a laugh before pulling you to his chest, giving you a tight squeeze. You have to remind yourself that he's not laughing at you, but because of you.

"You could have just cuddled me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it is. Well, it should be, but you've always found it hard to voice what you want no matter how badly you want it.

"How about we call off the movie for now?" He asks and turns off the TV then pulls you closer to him, his hands still moving up and down your back. You look up at him as he licks his lips, now unable to think about anything but how inviting they look.

The two of you have kissed multiple times, but it's never gone any farther than little pecks here and there because you've been too afraid to do any more than that. But now you feel the need to go all the way, wondering what he tastes like, if his hair is as soft as it looks.

But you've never made out with anyone and that scares you. Even though you know for sure that Eddie would talk you through it, the whole thing still makes you feel nervous. But apparently not nervous to forget it completely because before you can stop yourself, you're looking up at Eddie, gulping before getting his attention.

"Eddie?" You ask and his head turns to you, those honey eyes boring into yours. You melt under his gaze but trying to muster up the confidence again.

"Hm?" He asks, that stupid smirk making its way upon his face, the same one that's always there when he looks at you.

"Can-" you cut yourself off for the second time tonight but Eddie just sits there, patient as ever as he waits for you to speak. He knows how hard it can get sometimes for you to speak your mind so he doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your thoughts. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course you can," he responds, taking your face in his hands and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling away only for you to grumble in response.

"No," you shake your head. "I want a real kiss."

"Oh," he replies, wondering what made you decide on that, but wanting to oblige. He's willing to give you whatever you ask.

His hands move down to neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your jaw as he leans in again, his lips slowly capturing yours as they move together slowly. He's nothing but gentle as he kisses you, showing you how it's done.

Your hands press against his chest and all you can think about how you can't believe you've gone so long without his lips attached to yours. They're nothing but soft and gentle and now you're sure that you can do this for hours.

Eddie breaks away before you're ready and you're breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. He stares down, a chuckle falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to yours.

"You're supposed breathe, baby," he tells you softly and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Can we try that again?" You ask as you pick up one of his curls, twirling it around your pointer finger, staring down at it as you speak again. "Do you think we could...make out? I promise to breathe this time."

"Oh, honey," he sighs before pressing a kiss to you lips. "I'd love to make out with you." Another and another until he's capturing your lips again, taking the lead again. You have no idea what you're doing but Eddie is being nothing but a sweetheart as he guides you through it.

He pulls away again and you whine this time at the absence of his lips, chasing him and getting in another quick kiss before you sit back, waiting for him.

"Do you want to sit in my lap?" He suggests. "I think that'll be more comfortable for you."

Eddie sits with his back against the couch and you do as he suggests and straddle his waist which feels foreign to you but he's right. It's much more comfortable. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest on the small of your back, a good spot between your waist and upper back because this is just kissing and he doesn't want to give you the impression that he's going to go any farther.

"You kiss me now," he says and your heart races in your chest as you think about fucking it all up.

"Are you sure?" You ask, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you contemplate.

"Positive," he nods. "You've got this. Do whatever you want, baby. This is all about you."

"Okay," you nod, leaning forward and slotting your lips just like he did, Eddie immediately responding to you but he's moving at your pace instead of leading like he previously had.

You remember to breath through your nose as your fingers thread into his hair on each side of his head. His hair is normally off limits because people get too rough with it, but with you, he doesn't care. In fact, he loves when you play with his hair, a little bit of love sprinkles into every touch of it.

"You're doing so good, honey," he murmurs against your lips. "Do you want to try sticking your tongue in my mouth?"

"Please," you whine with a yank of his hair and if you can feel his cock hardening underneath you, you don't say anything. And thank god for that.

"Do you want me to show you first?"

"Yes," you breath against his lips and he's getting even more hard, knowing that he's going to have to get himself off later because there's no way he's going to expect you to go all the way right now.

Eddie captures your lips again as his hands rest against your waist, landing on the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. His lips are moving against you to warm you up and then he gingerly flicks his tongue against your bottom lip.

"Open up," he commands against your lips and you do as he says, opening up for him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. He swirls his tongue around yours and you mimic his actions, tugging on his hair as a moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue moving with yours.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but pull away as you suddenly feel embarrassed at the sound you've just made. Eddie, though? Eddie's convinced that's the hottest thing he's ever heard and he really wants you to make it again.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says quickly, trying his best to assure you. "It was really hot, actually."

"It was?"

"Definitely," he nods. "Would it help if you made me moan too?" All you can do is nod and before he can say anything else, your lips are on his, only a few seconds passing before your tongue is flicking against his bottom lip. He opens up immediately and you mimic what he just showed you, your tongue swirling around his as you pulling on his hair even harder, a loud moan falling from his lips.

You haven't thought about it until now since you were so caught up in his kisses, but you're soaking wet between your legs and if you had more confidence, you'd ask Eddie to take care of you, but you don't so you don't. You don't think you're ready for that right now anyway.

You try to focus on the taste of him to get your mind off of it. He tastes like cigarettes that you know he smoked before you came over and you don't know why but you can't get enough of it. It's intoxicating.

You stay like that for a while until your lips are kiss bitten and your legs are asleep from you straddling him for too long. You both decide to call it a night and Eddie walks you to your car like the gentleman he is, kissing you one more time before you drive away. He then goes back inside and heads to his room where he collapses onto his bed, deciding that he's probably (definitely) in love with you.

[loojii]

♥️ Prim and Proper ♥️ part 2

part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Riddle x King of Hearts oc You bet your ass I'm throwing every cliché I can think off in this shit fight me ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Story under the line~

Prim’s POV

Prim sat at a corner table in the Lady Mystic College cafeteria, quietly picking at her lunch. The chatter of the other students buzzed around her, but she kept her head down, focusing on her sandwich.

She had been avoiding Hazel, Trinity, and Opal for the past few days, though it wasn’t as if they’d noticed. She hadn’t gathered the courage to confront them outright, but she also couldn’t bring herself to sit with them anymore. It’s not like they were missing her.

Prim sighed softly, taking a small bite of her food. It was better this way. She could focus on herself, and besides, eating alone wasn’t so bad. Riddle thought so too. Without noticing a small smile reached her lips.

“OMG, hiiii!”

Prim nearly choked on her sandwich, startled by the sudden, enthusiastic voice. She looked up and found herself staring at Yina.

Yina was impossible to miss. She was tall, practically towering over everyone in their class, and had a striking presence, with her muscular build and big bouncy hair. Her hyena ears twitched slightly, and her Magicam-perfect smile seemed to light up the entire cafeteria.

Prim had always been a little intimidated by her. Yina was one of those girls who seemed effortlessly confident, the kind of person who could command attention without even trying. And on top of that, she was a Magicam model with thousands of followers.

“Uh, hi,” Prim managed, her voice a little shaky.

Yina beamed. “Why are you, like, eating alone? Is this seat taking?! Can I sit here?”

Prim blinked, completely caught off guard. “Oh, um... yeah, of course!”

Yina plopped down across from her without hesitation, setting her tray down with a flourish. “Thanks, girl! I was, like, totally not in the mood to sit with the usual crowd. They’re so boring today, you know?”

Prim nodded awkwardly, unsure how to respond.

Yina leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she studied Prim with an amused expression. “You’re in my class, right? You’re, like, so cute! I love your hair.”

Prim’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, uh, thanks,” she said softly.

“I’m Yina, by the way,” Yina said, though it wasn’t necessary, everyone in their class knew who she was. “You’re, like, Prim, right? Omg, I love that name. So adorable!”

Prim couldn’t help but smile. Yina’s energy was infectious, and she seemed so genuinely nice despite her intimidating presence. Unlike her old friends, she actually believed Yina’s compliments, she seemed so genuinous.

“So, like, what’s up?” Yina asked, casually poking at her salad with a fork. “You usually sit with those girls, right? Hazel and, like, the others?”

“Oh, um...” Prim hesitated. “I guess I’ve been sitting alone lately.”

Yina pouted dramatically. “Aw, no way. That’s, like, so sad! Eating alone is, like, totally boring. Unless you, like, want to be alone. Then I’ll leave, no problem-”

Prim quickly shook her head. “No, it’s okay! I don’t mind you sitting here.”

Yina clapped her hands together. “Yay! I hate eating alone. It’s, like, the worst.”

Prim found herself relaxing a little. Yina’s bubbly personality made it easy to talk, and before long, they were chatting about their classes and classmates.

At one point, Yina leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, like, tell me something fun! Got any tea?”

Prim tilted her head. “Tea?”

Yina waved a hand. “You know, like, gossip? Anything exciting? Omg, wait! You said you’ve been eating alone, so you ditched your friends? Don’t tell me you got no friends right now, right?”

Prim nodded, a small smile creeping onto her face. “O-oh! No, I do have a friend. But he attends Night Raven college so we can’t eat lunch together- ”

Yina gasped, her eyes widening. “Night Raven? OMG so like, a boy? Yeah you said he of course- hihi! So what’s his name? What is he like? Is he cute?”

Prim blinked, momentarily thrown off by the rapid-fire questions. “Oh, um, his name’s Riddle. He’s really smart and nice. He’s been helping me study lately.”

Yina squealed, practically bouncing in her seat. “Omg, that’s, like, so cute! Let me tell you, finding a guy that wants to help you out with boring stuff like school is, like, so rare. You’re very lucky to have a friend like that!”

Prim blinked again, not quite catching the implication. “Yeah, I’m really glad he’s my friend!”

Yina smirked knowingly. “Mmhmm, sure, just your friend. Sounds to me like you’ve got, like, a little study buddy romance brewing.”

Prim laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. He’s just helping me with potions. He’s really good at explaining things.”

“Whatever you say, girl,” Yina said with a wink, taking another bite of her salad. “But, like, you’ve got to introduce me to him someday. He sounds adorbs.”

Prim giggled, finding Yina’s enthusiasm oddly comforting. She had never expected someone like Yina to approach her, let alone be so friendly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

Riddle sat at his desk, carefully organizing his notes as Prim closed her notebook with a satisfied smile. Their study session had gone smoothly, as always, and she was clearly pleased with how much progress they’d made.

“Thanks again, Riddle,” Prim said, her voice cheerful. “I always feel so much better about potions after studying with you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Riddle replied, his tone measured. “You’re an attentive student, which makes it easier.”

Prim giggled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “I try! Oh, I almost forgot- I wanted to tell you something!”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I made a new friend!” she said brightly, her eyes sparkling. “Her name’s Yina, and she’s in my class. She’s super nice and really fun to talk to.”

Riddle felt an unexpected sense of relief at her words. He’d been quietly worried about Prim spending too much time alone, especially since she’d started avoiding her old group of friends. Hearing that she’d found someone who valued her lifted a weight from his chest.

“That’s good to hear,” he said with a small nod. “You deserve friends who treat you well.”

Prim smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Thanks, Riddle. I’m really glad I have you as a friend, too.”

He cleared his throat, feeling a faint warmth creep up his neck. “Of course.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, but it wasn’t long before Prim’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So, what’s next for you?” she asked, resting her chin in her hand. “Any big things coming up?”

Riddle hesitated for a moment, then replied, “There’s a dance coming up at the school. As housewarden, I have to oversee the preparations for Heartslabyul’s contributions.”

Prim’s eyes lit up. “A dance? That’s so exciting! I’ve heard about the dances at Night Raven College. Some of the girls at my school were talking about it, hoping a guy from here would ask them to go.”

Riddle adjusted his bow tie, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her enthusiastic gaze. “Yes, the dances are... a significant event,” he admitted.

Prim clasped her hands together, her voice brimming with excitement. “I bet it’s amazing. NRC is already so beautiful- add a dance, and it must look like something out of a fairytale!”

Riddle hesitated, his thoughts swirling. The way she spoke about the dance made it clear how much she’d love to see it for herself. It wouldn’t be unusual for a student to bring an outside guest, plenty of his dormmates had done so in the past. And Prim was his friend, wasn’t she?

He frowned slightly, his thoughts spiraling. Surely someone else might ask her. She was... well, adorable, wasn’t she? Though he hadn’t realized it at first, he’d come to see just how lively, kind, and pretty she truly was. Surely, another guy would notice that too?

“Has anyone asked you to go?” he asked carefully, trying to keep his tone casual.

Prim blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Then she laughed, shaking her head. “Me? No, of course not!”

Riddle’s chest tightened as he echoed her words. “Of course not?”

Prim shrugged, her expression light. “But that’s fine! I bet Yina was asked, she will probably tell me all about it! Oh, I should ask her to take photo’s too!”

Riddle pressed his lips together, her words lingering in his mind. It didn’t sit right with him how easily she rejected the idea that someone could ask her. That she couldn’t experience it by herself, something she clearly deserved, to see how beautiful the Great Hall would look, and to feel included.

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage. “Prim,” he began, his voice quieter than usual, “would you like to attend the dance? As my plus one?”

Prim’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise, her braces on full display.

“Just as friends, of course,” Riddle added quickly, his face growing warmer. “I thought you might enjoy seeing it for yourself.”

Her surprise melted into the brightest smile he’d ever seen. “Yes! I’d love to! Thank you so much, Riddle!”

The sheer joy in her voice made his heart flutter in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He quickly turned his attention back to his notes, hoping to compose himself. “Good. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

Prim clasped her hands together, practically glowing. “This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait!”

As she continued to talk about her excitement, Riddle allowed himself a small smile. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

Prim twirled around in her room, grinning as she looked at the dress spread across her bed. Her mom’s old dress was everything she could’ve hoped for: the pink glitter shimmered in the soft light, the voluminous sleeves added a whimsical touch, and the exaggerated eighties silhouette made it feel like something out of a movie.

When her mother had brought it down from the attic, Prim had squealed with joy, hugging her mom tightly. “Thank you, thank you! It’s perfect!” she had exclaimed.

Her parents were always so sweet, letting her express herself however she liked. Her mom had joked, “It’s a miracle this dress survived all these years! Just make sure you don’t let it blind anyone at the dance.”

Her dad had chimed in with a chuckle, “I think it’s going to turn every head there. No one’s going to forget this look!”

Now, as she gazed at the dress, Prim felt a warm glow of happiness. This dress wasn’t just an outfit- it was a part of her mom’s history, and now it would be part of hers, too. She couldn’t wait to show Riddle.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. With a puzzled look she opened the door to see- Hazel, Opal, and Trinity.

“Hi, Prim!” Hazel said, her voice overly sweet.

“Uh, hi,” Prim replied, blinking in surprise.

“We need your help,” Opal said, her gaze flicking over Prim’s room. “You’re good with hair, right? Your curls are always so... wild. You must know how to tame them.”

Prim hesitated, clutching the edge of her door. She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but she couldn’t say no. “Oh, um, sure. What do you need?”

The three girls stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, chattering among themselves. It wasn’t long before their eyes landed on the dress lying on Prim’s bed.

“Oh my gosh,” Trinity said, covering her mouth as she stifled a laugh. “Is that what you’re wearing tonight? Who hates you that much?”

Prim flushed, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Huh? My mom gave it to me-”

The girls exchanged glances, their amused expressions making Prim’s chest tighten.

Hazel giggled. “Oh, honey. Never let your mom choose your dress.”

“It’s so... pink,” Opal said, her lips curling into a smirk.

“And those sleeves!” Trinity added. “Are you going to fly away?”

The three of them burst into laughter, and Prim felt her heart sink.

“We can’t let you wear that,” Hazel said, shaking her head. “Come on, we’ll fix you up.”

Before Prim could protest, they were pulling her into her chair, smoothing her curls with a hot straightener until they hung limply down her back. They dabbed shimmering makeup across her face, accentuating her features with sharp lines and bold colors. Finally, Hazel let Opal run to her room to grab a tight black dress Prim could borrow.

“Here,” Hazel said, holding it up. “You’ll look amazing in this. Trust me.”

Prim stared at the dress, feeling a lump form in her throat. “But—”

“No buts,” Hazel interrupted. “We’re doing you a favor, Prim. You’ll thank us later.”

And just like that, the pink glittery dress was forgotten, left lying crumpled on her bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim followed Hazel, Trinity, and Opal into the grand hall of Night Raven College, her hands clutching the unfamiliar fabric of the borrowed dress. The room was breathtaking, filled with twinkling lights and elegant decorations.

But as beautiful as everything was, Prim couldn’t shake the discomfort settling in her chest. Every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored surfaces, she saw someone completely different—a polished, glammed-up version of herself that didn’t feel like her at all.

And then she spotted Riddle.

He stood near the entrance, waiting for her with his usual composed expression. But when his eyes landed on her, they widened slightly, and he straightened his posture.

“You look... very nice,” he eventually got out.

Prim hesitated, her fingers brushing against her skirt. “Do you mean that?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

Riddle nodded, though his expression seemed thoughtful. “Of course.”

Prim gave him a small smile. “Thank you. Hazel let me borrow this dress.”

At the mention of Hazel’s name, Riddle’s expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it. “Borrowed?” he asked. “Didn’t you already have something to wear?”

Prim’s cheeks flushed. “I did, but they saw it and... well, they thought it wasn’t a good choice. It’s fine, though.”

Prim looked at everyone going in to attend the dance. Hazel and the others were quick to ditch her, surely having a great time with their dates right about now. She looked at Riddle, who was still looking at her with furrowed brows. She didn’t want to delay the night by something as silly as a dress.

Riddle frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Where is the dress you planned to wear?”

Prim hesitated. “It’s back in my room. But it’s okay, really. This dress is fine, and I don’t want to ruin the night.”

“You’re not ruining anything,” Riddle said firmly. He glanced at the dance already in full swing, then back at Prim. “Wait here.”

Before she could respond, Riddle disappeared for a moment and returned with a broom in hand.

“Come with me,” he said, holding it out to her.

Prim blinked in surprise. “What? But the dance- don’t you have to be here?”

“It can wait,” Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Let’s get your dress.”

Though still uncertain, Prim couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement as she climbed onto the broom behind him. “O-okay!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

Riddle stood outside Prim’s room, his hands clasped neatly in front of him as he waited. The faint sounds of rustling fabric and soft humming drifted through the door. He took a calming breath, willing himself to be patient.

When the door finally opened, Riddle turned to face her- and felt his breath catch.

Prim stepped out, beaming with pride. Her sandals, adorned with little fabric flowers, peeked out beneath a bright pink glittery dress that seemed to shimmer with every movement. The sleeves were big and puffy, almost comically so, and the skirt flared out in exaggerated layers. Her hair, no longer straightened, had returned to its lively curls, half pulled back with a crown-like clip. Her makeup was gone, leaving her face fresh and glowing with natural cheer.

The dress was, by all conventional standards, hideous.

But Prim? She was beautiful.

Riddle’s eyes traced her from head to toe, taking in every detail- the bold color, the whimsical design, the unrestrained joy in her expression. She didn’t seem to care that her outfit clashed with the elegance of the Night Raven College dance or that others might scoff at her choice. She stood there, utterly unapologetic, her smile radiating confidence.

The way she embraced herself so fully was... admirable.

Riddle felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest. Was it jealousy? He’d spent his life meticulously crafting his image, conforming to rules and expectations. And yet, here was Prim, completely unbound by such concerns. She didn’t dress to please anyone but herself, and she was better for it.

Her fashion sense was undeniably eccentric- a strange blend of grandmotherly charm and childlike whimsy. And yet, as he watched her, Riddle found himself... liking it.

“Well?” Prim asked, tilting her head slightly. “What do you think?”

Riddle cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “It suits you,” he said sincerely. “I prefer this dress over the other one.”

Prim’s smile widened, and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Really? That means so much to me. Thank you, Riddle.”

Her words were simple, but the gratitude in her voice made his chest feel oddly warm.

“Shall we?” he asked, stepping aside to let her through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they mounted the broom to fly back to the dance, Prim climbed on behind Riddle, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. The warmth of her touch made him momentarily stiffen, but he quickly relaxed, focusing on the path ahead.

The night air was cool, and the lights of the campus glittered in the distance as they soared through the sky.

“I really do love this dress,” Riddle said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Prim leaned her head against his back slightly, her voice soft and full of emotion. “Thank you, Riddle. And thank you for taking me back to my dorm...”

Riddle didn’t respond immediately, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Great Hall was alive with music and laughter, its opulent decorations shimmering under the soft glow of enchanted lights. Riddle stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching as Prim twirled happily in her bright pink dress. Her curls bounced with every step, and her joy was palpable, radiating through the room like sunlight.

But the whispers reached him.

“Who let her in wearing that?”

“Did she raid a costume shop?”

“And those curls... Honestly, she looks ridiculous.”

“I feel so bad for her, omg-”

Riddle’s grip on his gloves tightened, his jaw clenching as the words filtered through the noise. He turned his head sharply, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on a group of students huddled near the refreshments table, smirking and murmuring among themselves.

Anger flared in his chest, his short temper on full display. He wanted to march over, to demand they hold their tongues, but he stopped himself. A small glance at Prim, still twirling to the music, was all it took to calm him. She was so happy, so blissfully unaware of the cruel words. He couldn’t take that away from her.

But he was also... confused.

How could they not see it? How could they fail to notice how lovely she was? Her bright happy eyes, the lively way she smiled, her curls framing her face like a golden halo. Even the dress, as unconventional as it was, suited her perfectly.

“She’s pretty,” Riddle thought, his brows furrowing. “Anyone can see that. Can’t they?”

The question lingered in his mind, unsettling him.

When Prim finally noticed him standing at the edge of the floor, she bounded over, her face glowing with excitement. “Riddle!” she said, holding out her hand. “Dance with me!”

He hesitated for a moment but relented, letting her pull him onto the floor. The music was slower now, a waltz, and he took her hand, guiding her into the proper steps.

Prim giggled when she stumbled slightly, but Riddle steadied her. “You’re doing fine,” he said, his grip tightening. 

“Thanks,” she replied, her smile never faltering.

As they danced, Riddle’s thoughts drifted to his mother. He could already hear her voice in his mind, sharp and disapproving. She would never have approved of someone like Prim- her bold, mismatched fashion, her carefree nature, her unpolished joy.

His mother valued order, refinement, and perfection. She would think Prim ridiculous.

The thought brought an ache to his chest. Just like the whispers in the hall, his mother would scold her for her dress choice. For how she styled her hair or how her shoes were not appropriate for the occasion. 

Before, he would’ve agreed with his mother, aided every word that left her lips. But now… He couldn’t disagree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the dance slowed further, Riddle glanced at the open balcony. The night sky stretched beyond the doors, stars twinkling brightly against the darkness. He turned back to Prim.

“Would you like to step outside for a moment?” he asked.

Prim’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to!”

He guided her through the crowd and onto the balcony, where the cool night air greeted them. The music faded into the background, replaced by the soft chirping of crickets.

Prim leaned against the railing, gazing up at the stars. “It’s so beautiful out here,” she said.

Riddle stood beside her, his hands resting lightly on the railing. “It is,” he agreed. After a moment, he added, “That dress- does it mean something to you?”

Prim turned to him, her smile soft. “Yeah. It was my mom’s. She wore it to a dance when she was young, and she kept it all these years. She thought it’d be fun if I wore it, too.”

Riddle nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “It suits you,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” Prim replied, her voice warm. “She and my dad were so excited when I told them I’d be wearing it tonight. I think they’re just happy I have a friend to go with.”

Riddle hesitated. “You told them about me?”

Prim giggled. “Of course! They wanted to know who I was going with. I told them all about you.”

He shifted slightly, his brow furrowing. “Do you think... they’d like me?”

Prim blinked, surprised by the question. “Of course they would! If I like you, then they’d like you, too!”

Riddle fell silent, her words lingering in the air.

She said it like it was a thing all parents do. He couldn’t imagine his mother ever being so accepting, so kind. No matter how hard he tried, nothing he did was ever enough for her.

“Riddle?” Prim’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He looked at her, her expression tinged with concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

He managed a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes. I’m fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

Prim leaned against the cool railing, gazing up at the stars with a soft smile. The night was peaceful, the faint music from the Great Hall carrying in the breeze. She glanced at Riddle, who stood beside her, his posture straight and composed as always.

“This is nice,” she said, her voice filling the quiet night. “Thanks for suggesting we come out here.”

Riddle nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It’s... refreshing. The dance can be overwhelming at times.”

Prim giggled. “I didn’t think you’d ever get overwhelmed.”

He turned to her, his lips twitching upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m not immune to it.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “You’re always so calm and collected, though. It’s impressive.”

“Not always.” Riddle said simply, though his expression softened slightly. “But you... you seem to have a way of balancing everything without trying so hard.”

Prim blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Me? I don’t think I’m very balanced at all,” she said with a laugh. “I just... do whatever feels right.”

“That’s precisely what I mean,” Riddle said, his voice quieter now. “You act so freely, without worrying about others’ opinions. It’s... admirable.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she glanced down, her fingers fiddling with the glittery fabric of her dress. “Well, I guess I’ve always just thought... life’s too short to worry about stuff like that. If you like something, why not go for it?”

Riddle’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, the starlight reflecting in his gaze. “That’s a... unique perspective,” he said.

Prim giggled again, her nerves bubbling to the surface. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing!”

“Not at all,” Riddle said quickly. “It’s... refreshing.”

Prim’s smile grew, and she turned to him, leaning slightly closer. “You know, for someone who’s so proper all the time, you’re actually really sweet.”

Riddle stiffened slightly, his cheeks tinging pink. “I- sweet isn’t the word I would use.”

“Oh, come on,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “You’re sweet. Admit it.”

Riddle’s gaze faltered for a moment, his posture straightening even further. “If you insist,” he said finally, a hint of awkwardness in his tone.

Prim giggled again, her curls bouncing. “Don’t worry. It’s a good thing.”

Riddle hesitated, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “You... have a way of making people feel at ease,” he said quietly. “Even me.”

Prim’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks grow even warmer. “Really?”

“Yes,” Riddle replied, his voice firm but sincere.

They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them growing heavier, though neither seemed to know why.

“Riddle,” Prim said, breaking the tension, “You’re a good person.”

Riddle’s lips parted as if to respond, but he hesitated, his gaze searching hers.

Prim tilted her head. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just... I’m not accustomed to this.”

“To what?”

“To... whatever this is,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them.

Prim laughed softly, leaning closer. “I think it’s called being friends.”

“Perhaps,” Riddle said, his tone laced with something Prim couldn’t quite place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

As Riddle walked Prim back to the Great Hall, her laughter still ringing softly in his ears, he found his thoughts drifting back to earlier in the week. The teasing from his dormmates, particularly Ace’s bold question, lingered in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

“Is she your girlfriend or something?”

The word had made him bristle with indignation at the time. A girlfriend? It was preposterous! She was his friend, nothing more.

…Right?

But now, as they re-entered the Great Hall and Prim immediately brightened at the sight of the glittering decorations, Riddle found himself wondering. What did it mean to have a girlfriend? What would it entail?

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was talking about how pretty the hall looked, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. Her curls bounced with every movement, the glittery pink dress catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal.

If she were his girlfriend, would that mean spending more time with her? More moments like this—walking under the stars, sharing quiet conversations? Would it mean holding her hand?

His thoughts spiraled further, and he felt his face grow warm. What if it meant things like… like kissing?

Riddle quickly cleared his throat, straightening his posture as though he could will the thought away. It was ridiculous. He barely understood what it meant to be a friend, let alone anything beyond that. And yet...

He found himself glancing at her again, his gaze lingering on the way she smiled, so bright and genuine. The way she didn’t hold back, the way she made him feel at ease, the way she seemed to light up the room simply by being in it.

If being her friend was this fulfilling, what would it be like to be something more?

Riddle shook his head slightly, his cheeks burning. It was absurd to even think about. She probably hadn’t given the idea a single thought, and here he was, getting flustered over something so hypothetical.

And yet, the question lingered.

Would she even want someone like him? Someone so rigid, so tied to rules and propriety? She deserved someone who could match her energy, her openness, someone who could make her laugh without overthinking every word.

“Riddle?”

Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see her watching him with a curious tilt of her head.

“You okay?” she asked, her blue eyes searching his.

“Yes,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “I was just... thinking.”

Prim smiled, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and turned back to admire the hall.

Riddle exhaled softly, his thoughts still a tangle of confusion and warmth. The teasing from his dormmates had felt irritating at first, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Was it really such an absurd idea? Or was it something he was too afraid to consider?

As Prim giggled at something a passing student said, Riddle realized one thing for certain: the thought of anyone else calling her their girlfriend filled him with an uncomfortable knot of jealousy.

And that was a realization he wasn’t quite ready to face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dance was winding down, the enchanted lights dimming as the final song played softly in the background. Students milled about, some still dancing while others gathered in small groups, their laughter and chatter echoing through the hall.

Riddle stood with Prim near the entrance, her hand lightly brushing the glittery skirt of her dress as she spoke animatedly about her favorite moments from the evening. Her excitement was infectious, her blue eyes sparkling as she recounted their dance, the food, and the decorations.

“And the stars outside,” she said, grinning. “That was my favorite part. Thanks for taking me out there.”

“You seemed to enjoy it,” Riddle replied, fiddling with his own gloves.

“I did,” she said, grinning as she nodded. “It was perfect. The whole night was, really. Thank you for inviting me, Riddle.”

He looked at her, her sincerity evident in every word. For a moment, he found himself unable to respond, his mind replaying the evening, the way she had lit up when he complimented her dress, the warmth of her arms around him on the broom, and the way she had smiled at him under the stars.

“You’re welcome,” he said finally, his voice steadier than he expected.

Prim adjusted a strand of hair, her movement reluctant. “I guess it’s time for me to head back.”

Riddle nodded, though a part of him wished the night didn’t have to end. “I’ll walk you to the gate,” he offered.

Together, they made their way out of the Great Hall, the cool night air wrapping around them as they started their walk to the gate. The grounds were quieter now, the distant hum of voices fading as the other guests began to disperse.

When they reached their destination, Prim turned to him, her smile soft but bright. “I had so much fun tonight, Riddle. It was one of the best nights ever.”

“I’m glad,” he said, meeting her gaze. “You deserved to enjoy yourself.”

She looked at him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Then, to his surprise, she stepped closer, her cheeks slightly pink.

“Goodnight, Riddle,” she said softly.

Before he could respond, she leaned up and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

Riddle froze, his breath catching as warmth spread across his face. Her lips barely lingered, but it was enough to leave his mind reeling.

When she pulled back, she was smiling, her own cheeks glowing faintly. “Thanks again for everything,” she said, her voice light and cheerful.

He managed a small nod, his voice failing him as she turned and began walking away.

“Goodnight, Prim,” he finally murmured, though she was already out of earshot.

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[willowsnook]

i need you back

Charles leclerc x wolff!reader

request from @dovesboccianoifiori

—--------------------------------------

“I can’t do this anymore, Charles,” you said, tears streaming down your face as you stood by the front door of his Monaco apartment with your suitcases. Your boyfriend stood broken in front of you, eyes begging you not to leave. 

“Please, y/n, it will get better,” he tried to reason, but you laughed, shaking your head. 

“You don’t get it, Charlie, you don’t get it because you’re the prince of Ferrari; everyone loves you. You don’t have people constantly commenting on your appearance, what you say, what you wear, or anything you like on social media. They hate me because they love you,” you finished sadly. “I love you more than you could ever know, but I also love myself.”

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to your cheek. You leaned it to it gently before pressing one last kiss on his lips and leaving. 

You cried the whole way to the airport, feeling like you had ripped your own heart out, but you knew this was for the best. It had been a long time since you were really happy; the hate you consistently got had finally broken you down, and you knew you needed to be alone to build yourself back up. Charles hadn’t done anything wrong, but he also didn’t get it, so it was frustrating when you didn’t feel like you had anyone to talk to about it with. 

This would be good for you.

—------------------------

It had been a couple of months since your breakup with Charles, and though it still stung, you were adapting. You moved back to your family’s estate in Vienna and had connected with a bunch of old friends who were getting you through. 

You hadn’t seen Charles since you left, but according to social media, he wasn’t out in public often. He looked half-alive in the PR videos Ferrari had been posting. He had tried calling you a lot the first month, but now it was silent between you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” your dad said, knocking on your bedroom door. You were snuggled up in your blankets, watching a movie. 

“Hi, dad,” you greeted softly. His face looked around the room in concern, not used to the messy state it was currently in. 

“Why don’t you come to the race with me this weekend?” He asked. “I think it will be good for you.” 

“I don’t know…,” you trailed off. 

“Come on honey, F1 is yours too,” he said, and you thought about it. You had missed being in the paddock for race weekends these past months. He was right; Charles didn’t own F1, and you were allowed to enjoy it. 

“Okay,” you said, agreeing, and Toto smiled. 

—----------------Belgian GP—--------------------------

The hot sun beat down on you as you stepped into the paddock, dressed in Mercedes colors. You made it a couple of feet before the eyes got to you, making you falter. It felt like everyone was looking at you, and you started to panic.

“Keep moving forward,” a voice said from next to you, pushing you forward. You gave Lewis a grateful smile as he fell into step with you. 

“I thought it would be easier,” you murmured to him. 

“It’s just because it’s your first race back,” he told you. “They’ll move on to the next thing in a few days.”

His words comforted you as you walked with him. Smiling at familiar faces and ignoring the flashes from cameras. Your dad was waiting for you in the garage, and he gave Lewis a nod of appreciation as you approached. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you. “Excited for today?” 

“Yeah,” you told him with a genuine smile. “Is Kimi here?” 

“Yeah, he’s on his side,” your dad said, waving you off. You and Kimi had grown close when he joined as a reserve driver since your dad was obsessed with him, so he was around a lot. You were closer to him in age than George, so your friendship was natural. 

Kimi lit up when he saw you jogging over to you, and you giggled. 

“Hi Kimi,” you sai,d and he wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around. 

“Ciao Bella,” he said, happy to see you. “I’m so glad you are here.” 

“Me too,” you said, smiling. 

“I need to see someone at Williams. Will you come with?” He asked, and you nodded. The two of you set out and you were temporarily distracted from your sadness until you spotted him. 

He came to a stop, mid-conversation with Carlos as he saw you. Carlos followed his line of sight, and his eyes looked pained when he saw you. 

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with Charles. He looked thinner, his usually vibrant green eyes now dull and rimmed with dark circles. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as you both stared at each other across the paddock.

Kimi noticed your sudden tension and followed your gaze. "Ah, merda," he muttered under his breath. He gently touched your lower back, ready to steer you away if needed.

Charles took a hesitant step forward, his expression a mixture of hope and heartbreak. But before he could approach, Carlos grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear. Charles reluctantly nodded, casting one last longing look in your direction before allowing Carlos to lead him away.

You released a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Thanks, Kimi," you said softly, and he smiled at you sympathetically. 

Kimi greeted another guy who appeared to be around your age as you made it to Williams. You were racking your brain trying to remember who he was, knowing he was a reserve driver. 

“Franco, this is y/n wolff,” Kimi introduced, and Franco’s eyes widened at your last name. 

“Who knew the daughter of the wolf would be so beautiful?” he said, recovering and bringing your hand up to kiss its back. You laughed as Kimi snorted, and Franco grinned at both of you. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n; Kimi has said a lot about you.”

“You too, Franco,” you said, and the three of you chatted for a bit. You instantly grew to like Franco, and his jokes and laughter made your day a little better. 

It was getting closer to practice, and Kimi had to head back to Mercedes, as he was driving George’s car, but Franco held your arm back. 

“Do you want to just stay here with me?” He asked. “I can keep you company.” 

“Sure,” you said without a second thought. You said goodbye to Kimi and hung around with Franco, interested in seeing what another team’s garage was like. 

Franco kept the conversation going with you, and at one poin,t the two of you looked at the broadcast to see yourselves on the screen. Franco grinned widely as you shied away. 

“Not a fan of the spotlight?” He teased, and you gave him an uneasy look. 

“More so, not a fan of what comes with it,” you said, and he nodded in understanding. 

“Is that why you and Charles broke up?” He asked bluntly before blushing. “Sorr,y that’s none of my business, but Kimi had mentioned it.” 

“It’s okay,” you told him. “But yeah, I was pretty much getting ripped apart every day online so I needed a break.” 

“I know it’s easier said than done,” he stated. “But you shouldn’t even worry about what those people are saying. They are losers, and you are a beautiful girl who shouldn’t pay them attention.” 

“Thanks, Franco,” you said, tears in your eyes. He let you rest your head on his shoulder, and you were thankful that a new friendship was starting to blossom. 

—-------------------------------

You and Franco kept in touch over summer break, and you even met up when you were both in London. He quickly became one of your closest friends; you found it easy to open up to him, and he gave excellent advice. Charles was not pleased about this new development. 

“Would she really move on that quickly from me?” He asked, irritated. Carlos gave him a pointed look from across the table. He was tired of hearing Charles spiral whenever he got wind that you had hung out with Franco. 

“Rebecca said that they are just friends,” Carlos said. “She’s allowed to have friends.”

Charles scoffed, “Of course she can have friends. But why do they have to be involved in F1?” 

“Maybe because her dad is the most popular team principal, and her mom is in charge of the academy?” Carlos reasone,d but Charles wasn’t listening. 

Charles shook his head, his frustration evident. "I just don't understand. We were so happy together. How could she just move on like this?"

Carlos sighed, setting down his coffee cup. "Charles, my friend, you need to let this go. It's been months. Y/N made her decision, and you need to respect that."

"But I love her," Charles insisted, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't just forget about her."

"I'm not saying you should forget," Carlos said gently. "But you need to focus on yourself, on your racing. Obsessing over who she's spending time with isn't healthy."

Charles slumped in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just... seeing her at the track, with Franco... it hurts."

Carlos reached across the table, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

—----------------------------------

You were in the Williams garage again for the weekend because it was officially Franco’s first F1 race. Monza was electric, and you couldn’t help but feel excited for Charles as well. You’d been nervous when you arrived, but many people in the Tifosi stopped you, commenting on how much they missed seeing you with Charles. It definitely was a stark contrast to what you were used to seeing online. 

You didn’t stop the happy tears from coming when you watched Charles take the podium, and Franco getting points was the cherry on top. Everyone was going out that night, and Kimi invited you to tag along as his plus one. You threw on a cute red mini-dress and headed to the upscale restaurant with Kimi. Most of the other drivers were there, and you were having a good time until you realized the girl Charles was sitting next to was clearly his plus one. 

You tried to focus on your conversation with Rebecca and Carlos, but your eyes drifted back to Charles and his date. The girl was beautiful, with long dark hair and a dazzling smile. She seemed completely at ease among the drivers and team members, laughing at their jokes and fitting in seamlessly.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Rebecca asked, noticing your distraction.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired I guess."

Carlos and Rebecca exchanged a knowing look. "We can leave if you want," Carlos offered kindly.

"No, no. I'm fine," you insisted, taking a large sip of your wine. But then you looked over again to see Charles date. Right as she pressed a kiss on his cheek, it was over. Tears instantly filled your eyes, and you pushed out of your chair, ignoring people calling after you as you moved toward the exit. A sob escaped your mouth as the fresh air hit you, and two arms were quickly around you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Carlos soothed, rubbing your back as you clung to him. 

“It hurts Carlos,” you cried, and his heart broke at the sight of you. 

“I know,” he said. 

Charles had seen you bolt out of the restaurant and was only a few paces behind Carlos on the way out. He saw you in Carlos’ arms and was very confused. 

“Y/n,” he called out your name, and you whirled on him, anger rising through your body. 

“What do you wan,t Charles?” You asked harshly. His brows furrowed at your tone. 

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said, and you laughed humorlessly. 

“I’m fine, just go back to your new girlfriend,” you spat out, and he flinched before matching your anger with his own. 

“Oh, so you’re allowed to move on but I’m not?” He sneered, and you stepped towards him angrily. 

“Please enlighten me with who I’m apparently moving on with,” you snapped. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, all I see are you and Franco going out to dinner, you in the Williams garage, you with him in London.” 

“Tell me this, Charles, have you ever seen any pictures of him touching me?” You asked icily. “Pictures of him whispering into my ear like your date tonight? Or of him kissing me?” 

Charles stilled at your words, finally realizing that maybe you and Franco were just friends. But you weren’t done. 

“I can’t believe you would throw this in my face,” you seethed at him. “I still fucking love you Charles! I’m fucking miserable, and you think I just threw our whole relationship away for someone else this quickly. Do you even know me?”

Your voice cracked at the last word, and pain flashed across his face as he took another step towards you. 

Charles reached out to touch your arm; his eyes filled with regret. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

You jerked away from his touch, tears streaming down your face. "Don't. Just don't, Charles.”

Carlos stepped between you, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. "I think it's time for you to go back inside, Charles," he said firmly.

Charles looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Carlos' expression made him think better of it. He cast one last pained look at you before turning and heading back into the restaurant.

You sagged against Carlos, suddenly feeling drained. "I want to go home," you whispered.

"Of course," Carlos said gently. "I'll call a car for you."

As you waited for the car to arrive, you couldn't help but replay the encounter. The hurt in Charles' face burning in your mind.

—--------------------------------------

Charles was desperate to get you back. He had sent flowers, jewelry, clothes, literally anything that would make you even consider answering one of his many calls. You accepted the gifts but weren’t giving in to him yet; his words from Monza still echoing in your mind. 

You currently were in the Williams hospitality suite, grabbing a coffee with Franco, who had his precious mate. 

“I like your bracelet. Is it new?” Franco asked innocently, and you shot him a look. It was one of the many gifts from Charles that had shown up on your door this past week. 

“Thank you,” you said, not commenting on it further. Franco rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. 

“I want to show you something,” he said, and you leaned over curiously. He had a bunch of screenshots of comment sections on instagram and twitter on his phone. “I know that you got swept up in all the hate you were getting, but look closer at it; look at how many people reply to those people defending you.”

Hesitantly, you took his phone from hi,m and you scrolled through. He was right; for every one hate comment, there were at least ten telling them off and in support of you. 

Your eyes widened as you continued scrolling through Franco's phone, taking in all the supportive comments. "I... I never noticed these before," you said softly.

Franco gently took his phone back. "That's because you were too focused on the negative. But Y/N, there are so many people out there who adore you. You shouldn't let a few trolls dictate your happiness."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions wash over you. "Thank you for showing me this, Franco. It really means a lot."

He smiled warmly. "That's what friends are for."

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Charles: "Can we please talk? I miss you so much."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Franco noticed your expression change and raised an eyebrow. "Charles again?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "He wants to talk.”

“You should meet up with him,” Franco said. “You still love him, and this break isn’t doing you or him any good. You two belong together.”

After thinking about it for a second, you decided that you agreed and texted him back, saying you could meet him in the hotel lobby this evening. 

The rest of the day went by fast, and you soon found yourself waiting on a couch for Charles in the lobby, twiddling your thumbs nervously. 

You saw Charles before he saw you. He walked into the lobby, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His face lit up with a mixture of relief and apprehension as he approached.

"Y/N," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

You nodded, your heart racing. "Of course, Charles."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, both of you unsure where to start. Finally, Charles took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For not understanding what you were going through, for not being there for you the way I should have been. And especially for what happened in Monza. I was jealous and hurt, and I lashed out. It was wrong of me."

You felt tears prick at your eyes. "I'm sorry too, Charlie, for running away that night in Monaco. I should have talked to you about my feelings instead of just leaving."

“I need you back y/n,” he begged. “You belong by my side, I can’t take another weekend of seeing you not in Ferrari colors.” 

You let out a small giggle at his request, and he relaxed. He reached for your hand and held it tightly, caressing your skin gently. 

“Okay,” you said softly. “I’ll come back, if you’ll have me.” 

Charles's face broke out into a grin, and he pulled you into his lap, your cheeks reddening with the embarrassment of being in public. 

“Charlie, we are in public,” you complained, nestled against his chest. 

“I don’t care, mon cheri,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” 

For the first time in months, you felt a glimmer of hope—hope that things could be different this time. Together, you’d rebuild what was broken, stronger than before.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Like my father pt 2 {burb}

Sirius x Potter!Reader

An: Already writing part 3. This can also be read as a solo.

CW: Amos Diggory slander, not proof read, use of y/n, bad dates, just cheesy fluff,

Summary: Reader has a bad date and Sirius comes to the rescue

Wc: 2451

Part one Part three

“I genuinely can't believe you let her walk out that door with him.” James groaned from the love seat where Lily had found a perch in his lap.

It was just a few months after your graduation when you informed your family and co. that you were seeing someone. Someone four years older, Amos Diggory. James protested, Sirius protested, even your mother did. Didn't stop you from accepting his date invitation. Nor did it stop you from leaving to go out to eat with him either.

Lily rolled her eyes, gently nudging James with her elbow. “Oh, come off it, James. She’s not a child anymore. She can handle herself.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, every part of him was tense, despite how he played it cool. “Drop it, mate.”

James sat up straighter, glaring at Sirius with indignation. “Drop it? Are you serious? She’s going out with a guy who’s practically an adult! What if he tries something? You know how boys are at that age!”

“Yeah, he's one of them.” Remus muttered and took a sip of his tea, earning a smack from Sirius.

“Stop talking like she isn't old enough to make her own choices.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “She was bound to start dating eventually.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry! I mean.” James pointed at Sirius and then back at himself. “He's older than us. I don't like it.”

“Maybe he is, but she’s not going to be alone with him in a dark alley, James. They’re going to a restaurant,” Remus chimed in, giving an amused sigh. “Let her live a bit.”

“This conversation isn't happening again.” Lily groaned as she stood up, grabbing James by his hand. “We're going to bed.”

James looked up at Lily and squeezed her hand with an affectionate, hell, lovesick look. “Yes ma'am.”

“Whipped.” Sirius huffed and Remus gave him a look.

“Goodnight all.” James waved before he pointed at Sirius with a glare. “You're gonna lose her, mate. Get your shit together.”

Sirius flipped him off before he sunk back into his bed. Sighing threw his nose and sank into the couch.

“You can't ignore it forever, Sirius.” Remus muttered and Sirius gave a scoff.

“Oh, but I can. And I will. She trusts me, she likes me, she thinks I'm just the greatest. I'm okay with that.” Sirius sighed and Remus gave a huff.

“Sirius, if she likes this guy-”

“Then I'll be happy for her.” He interrupted and ran his fingers a bit more purposefully through his hair. “She'll find someone worth her time.”

“Ugh. Is this how it felt talking to me?” Remus mumbled and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I'm nothing, Remus. I don't have a damn thing to offer her. Not even my name means more than hers.”

Remus frowned. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re a good guy, and you care about her. That counts for something. She wouldn't care about anything else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough,” Sirius grumbled, his voice laced with frustration. “I’m just her brother’s best friend. Some couch surfer her parents pitied. I’m not what she needs. Not when she could have someone like Amos. He’s got it all; looks, charm, and a future ahead of him. What do I have? A knack for getting into trouble and a penchant for living on the edge?”

“Sirius,” Remus interjected firmly, leaning forward. “You know she doesn't think like that. You haven't even given her the choice.”

“But she so often picks the wrong one.” He groaned and Remus shook his head.

“Just think about it, mate. I'm going to bed, you coming?”

“No I uhm…” Sirius glanced at the window and bit his cheek. “Think ima stay up for her. You know, to lock up after her.”

Remus slowly smiled and nodded, dismissing himself.

~~~

Sirius was shocked awake by the sound of the house phone ringing. He hissed and rubbed his eyes, having fallen asleep on the couch.

He groaned, the muffled ringing echoing through the house as he squinted at the clock on the wall. It was well past nine, when you should have been home. Who in their right mind was calling this late? He internally nagged himself for not being awake to welcome you home.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the couch, his body stiff from the awkward position he had been in. As he shuffled toward the kitchen, he could hear the phone ringing again, the sound almost piercing his ears. He reached the phone just as it stopped, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, it started ringing again.

“Ugh, bloody hell.” He muttered, picking up the receiver a bit more aggressively then needed. “Potter residence, what-”

“Sirius? Is that you?”

At the sound of your voice he almost toppled over. “Bambi? The hell? What are you still doing out?”

“Uhm.. dinner ran a bit later than I thought.” You whispered and you began to ring your fingers through the cord. “Would it.. would it be too much to ask you to come pick me up?”

Sirius thought about what you were asking for a moment, you didn't exactly sound thrilled to be there.

Not that he had to think about his answer for too long.

“Of course, bambi. Just stay put, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.” You sounded relieved, and Sirius could picture you visibly relaxing on the other end of the line.

He hung up the phone and quickly grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, his mind racing with questions.

Sirius slipped on his shoes and headed for the door, he paused and quickly grabbed a pair of your sneakers before hurrying out.

It wasn't long before he got to the restaurant. Walking at night wasn't Sirius’s idea of fun, but the idea of you sounding so nervous and scared, he didn't even realize how fast he was moving. Some fancy place he was sure you'd never be found dead in. Even with your family’s status, you'd more often than not be found in diners.

He walked in, standing awkwardly at the waiting area. He peeked over the hostess stand, looking around the restraint curiously, only able to spot Amos sitting at a table alone. He furrowed his brow, before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

Turning around to see you, smiling up at him. The same smile you shot him when you headed out earlier tonight.

“Hey, little bug, what's going on?” His entire demeanor turned soft, and your smile faltered just a moment.

“I just wanna go home.” You whispered softly and Sirius took a glance back at the table, able to see Diggory looking around curiously.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist, escorting you out of the restaurant to the grand stairs that lead to the sidewalk. He pointed down to the last few steps. “Sit.”

You huffed but did as you were told. Watching as he kneeled in front of you and took off your heels, replacing them with your sneakers.

You hugged yourself, the noodle strap dress doing very little to cut the cold. “Thank you, Siri…”

He sighed a bit at the nickname, standing up and taking your hand to help you up. “Did you call me all the way out here to ditch some boy?”

“Merlin, Siri, he's such a git.” You hissed and looped your arm around his. Clinging to what little warmth he gave off, as he began to lead you home.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and curiosity flooding his thoughts. “What do you mean? What happened?”

You leaned into him a bit more, seeking comfort from the chill in the air and the whirlwind of emotions from the evening. Not used to the more casual treatment from men. Usually, being James Potter’s sister was a reminder enough for men to go above and beyond for your attention.

Given your brother was the boy who would dedicate his Quidditch Cup wins to his girlfriend or declare his love with obnoxious displays. Of course, {Y/N} Potter wouldn't entertain anything less. Seems Amos figured a pretty face was enough. “It started off fine, but then he just… I don’t know, he got too flirty and it felt really off. I thought I could handle it, but he just kept pushing. I felt uncomfortable, and I didn't want to make a scene.”

“Flirty how?” Sirius asked, keeping his voice low and steady, trying to gauge how serious the situation was. Debating on if it was worth running back in.

“He kept talking about how pretty I looked and how lucky he was to be with me.” You explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “At first, it was nice. I mean, you know I like being flattered.”

“What? No. I would have never guessed.” Sirius mocked and you hit his side with a huff.

“Shut up!” You laughed lightly, but the tension in your voice betrayed your discomfort. “But then he started getting too personal, asking if I was a good kisser and if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner. It just felt… wrong.”

Sirius felt a surge of anger course through him, and he tightened his grip on your arm as you walked together. “Did you tell him to back off?”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I did, but he just brushed it off and laughed. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just made up an excuse about needing to call you. It was the only way I could get out of there.”

“Good thinking.” He praised, his voice softening. “You did the right thing. You don’t have to put up with that kind of behavior from anyone, no matter how charming they might seem.”

You looked up at him, slowly your bottom lip began to quiver and he gave a surprised and panicked look. Before his expression slowly turned soft. “Oh, bambi.”

“I didn't like it.” You whispered, quickly lifting your free hand to dry your gathering tears. “It was my first date and I hated it.”

“Hey, hey.” He whispered and stopped walking. Lifting his hand to shoo away your own, using his thumb to dry your tears. “Hey, none of that, it wasn't your fault.”

“He was so gross.” You whined out and he tutted, pulling away as you took a shaky breath. “And his cologne smells awful.”

Sirius gave a startled chuckle and you slowly smiled up at him. “Smelt like a mix of cheap aftershave and desperation.” You added, a hint of laughter breaking through your earlier distress. He gave a louder laugh as he began to lead you back down the street.

“How cruel of you.” He chuckled and you shook your head, giving a small sniff. “How cruel of me? How cruel of him! I had to smell it all night, I'm the victim here.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at your determination to find humor in the situation despite how upset you had been moments earlier. “You’re absolutely right.”

You giggled, the sound warming Sirius’s heart. It was nice to see you lightening up, even if just a little. “I mean, really, if you’re going to wear something that strong, at least make sure it doesn’t smell like it came from the bargain bin. My dad has better smelling cologne and he actually gets it from the bargain bin.”

He shook his head. “Do you even know cologne? Is that even on your radar?”

“Well, no but.. I like my dads. And yours.” You hummed and leaned in closer, taking a small whiff of him before you scrunched up your nose. “Not this one. The green bottle.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “The one I wore at Hogwarts?”

You laughed, your tension easing. “Definitely. It smells way better than what that git was wearing. You’d have all the ladies swooning.”

“Ah, but I’m not trying to swoon anyone tonight.” He hummed, his tone suddenly more serious as he looked down at you. “I’m just focused on getting you home safe.”

You met his gaze, a mix of gratitude and warmth filling your chest. “I appreciate that, Sirius. It means a lot to me.”

“Course. Next time you need a date, you just let me know, and I’ll screen them first,” Sirius offered, half-joking but also completely serious. “I’ll make sure they meet the ‘Sirius Standard.’”

You laughed. “The Sirius Standard? Oh please, I know how you treat your girls.”

“Not my girls. They aren't my girls.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You don't have girls anymore? You've changed, Black.”

“Who needs girls when I got you to look after? Too much work if you ask me.” He huffed and you slowly smiled, fiddling with the threads of his warn jacket.

You guys eased into a calm silence. It wasn't long until you were home, and he was lifting up his keys and kneeling down to take off your shoe. You gave a sleepy yawn, looking down as he stood infront of you.

He did a double take, noticing how you chewed your lip.

“What's on your mind, bambi?”

“Just.. boys. Is it weird, Siri? That I haven't dated yet?”

“What? Doll, is that why you went out with him?”

“... maybe. Just.. James got to me the other day. I haven't dated anyone, that can't be normal.”

He cooed and walked over to you, “It's not, but it's special. You know what you want. That's a good thing.”

You looked up at him, your expression thoughtful. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He affirmed confidently. “You’re not going to settle for just anyone. You’ll wait for someone who makes you feel safe and happy. That’s way more important than just dating for the sake of it.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Sirius. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That's my job, isn't it?” He grinned back at you, before lifting up his arms. “Come ‘er.”

You giggled and hurried over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Don't go rushing into things, bams. You've got a lot of years to find someone.” He whispered against your hair and you absolutely melted into him. Not noticing as the stairs from the second floor creaked and James peaked down to look at Sirius. Giving him a smile and hurrying back upstairs.

“Siri?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Is it Grease?”

“... maybe.”

[ttpdstri]

back to december

oscar piastri x fem!reader

in which he wishes he could go back in time and change what he did. she’s willing to give him one last chance.

part 1 part 2

warnings: none

sunday kalogeras is used for pictures but ofc you can imagine yn as anyone!

december 19th 2024

since receiving oscar’s message, yn had no idea what to do about it. she spent days thinking of what to say, and how to say it. there was no way she’d be taking him back instantly, the break up hurt her too much for her to be willing to do that.

although, if he could genuinely prove that he wasn’t going to change his mind again in the future, she was open to putting it all behind them. what she needed to know was that he wasn’t going to accuse her of not being there for him again.

that was what she found most unfair about the reasoning behind their break up.

she had always tried to be there for him, no matter the distance, and no matter the time in her home city. if he needed her, she supported him.

as the days passed, she realised she needed to text him back. even if it was just a simple message, she needed to respond. she wanted to respond.

walking into the cafe down the road from her house, yn immediately spotted oscar sat at their usual table. he looked ridiculously stressed, but so was she and the unusual clamminess of her hands reflected that.

taking a deep breath, she walked over and sat down opposite him. “hi,” she breathed, almost surprised her legs hadn’t forced her to walk right out of there and go back home.

“hey,” he gave her a half smile. “thank you for wanting to talk to me. i know i screwed up big time, i just… yeah.”

she nodded. “of course. what did you want to talk about that couldn’t be said over text?”

“everything i said that day… i wish i could take it all back,” he sat back in his chair and began anxiously fiddling with his hands. “i don’t even know why i said any of it, i didn’t mean it at all. you’ve been so supportive since day one and no distance changed that. i’m a fucking idiot for ruining everything.”

yn crossed her arms, leaning forwards so they rested on the table. “why did you say all of that?” she asked. “you’re saying that you didn’t mean it but… why say it then?”

oscar took a deep breath. “i don’t know,” he ran his hand over his face. “i really don’t. i can’t take it back, as much as i wish that i could, but i will do whatever i can to make it up to you.”

“look, i just need to know that if we get back together, you’re not going to do that again.”

“i promise you, i will never do anything like that ever again.”

liked by ttpdstri and 4,927 others

f1wagupdates, oscar piastri and (ex?) girlfriend yn yln spotted out in melbourne. do we think they’re back together? 👀

view all comments

user1, pls pls pls pls be back together pleaseeeee

user2, NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE ???

⤷ user3, WE WON MAYBE

user4, stop it’s been so long since they publicly interacted we are so back

december 26th 2024

liked by oscarpiastri and 16,385 others

yourusername, ☀️💐💗

view all comments

landonorris, thank fuck, i couldn’t watch him mope around anymore i was going insane

⤷ yourusername, 😭😭 good to know he missed me ig

oscarpiastri, caption is so creative

⤷ yourusername, don’t make fun of me loser

⤷ oscarpiastri, sorry sorry it’s a work of art

yourbff, you’re so pretty 😍😍 and he’s there too!

⤷ yourusername, love u 😘😘

user5, WE ARE SO BACK!!!

this is the final part :) hope you liked it <3

tags: @l1li4n @yara011 @daemyratwst @sie17136 @dark-night-sky-99 @revrse @hadids-world

[oldsoul007]

off script

nicholas chavez x co-star!reader

summary: nicholas and reader pull a publicity stunt to promote their new movie but maybe theres something more…

During a promotional interview for our movie, the interviewer couldn't help but notice the way Nicholas looked at me. With a curious smile, the interviewer leaned forward and said, "Nicholas, I have to ask—there's something in the way you look at y/n. It's like there's more than just acting going on here."

Nicholas glanced at me , his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. He chuckled nervously before responding, "Well, you know, we've spent a lot of time together for this movie. It's hard not to develop a certain... connection."

The interviewer raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "A connection, you say? It seems like it's more than just a professional one."

I felt her heart skip a beat as i looked at Nicholas. I could see the sincerity in his eyes. "We've become really good friends through this process," i added, trying to keep my voice steady.

Nicholas nodded, but the look he gave me spoke volumes. It was a look filled with admiration and something deeper, something that couldn't be hidden even under the bright lights of the interview set. The interviewer smiled knowingly, leaving the audience to wonder if there was more to their story than just a movie.

So of course mine and nicholas publicists had a brilliant idea to generate buzz for our upcoming movie. They decided to stage a publicity stunt, wanting us to pretend to be a couple. The plan was simple: act like they were dating, make a few public appearances together, and let the media do the rest.

Of course Cooper, was in on it and went ballistic, because he always couldn't help but tease us about how perfect we would look together.

At first, it was all fun and games. We attended premieres, had dinner dates in front of paparazzi, and even posted cute pictures on social media. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and soon, our "relationship" became the talk of the town. Fans were ecstatic, and the movie's anticipation skyrocketed.

However, as we spent more time together, something unexpected happened. The line between acting and reality began to blur. I couldn't deny the fluttering in my heart whenever Nicholas was around. We shared laughs, deep conversations, and moments that felt all too real.

Cooper, who had always shipped us, noticed the change. "You know, you two aren't just good actors," he said one evening. "I think there's something real here."

Me and Nicholas exchanged glances, both realizing that Cooper might be right. What started as a publicity stunt had turned into something much more profound. We had discovered genuine feelings for each other, and the world could see it too.

As we made our way to the quiet corner of the studio, Nicholas turns to me, his heart pounding. "Y/n, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

I nodded, my curiosity piqued. "Of course, Nic. What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Nicholas gathered his thoughts. "During the interview, when the interviewer mentioned the way I look at you, it made me realize something important," he began, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I've been trying to keep my feelings in check, but I can't ignore them anymore."

My eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and anticipation flickering across her face. "Nic, what are you trying to say?"

Nicholas stepped closer, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "Y/n, I want something more, Working on this movie with you, spending all this time together, it's made me see that my feelings for you are real. It's not just the characters we played; it's us."

For a moment, there was silence as I processed his words. Then, a smile slowly spread across my face, my eyes shining with emotion. "Nicholas, I’ve felt the same way, but I was afraid to say anything."

Relief and joy washed over Nicholas as he closed the distance between them, grabbing my face and pulling me in for a heated kiss. "I'm so glad you feel the same," he whispered, his voice full of emotion in between kisses.

The movie's release was a massive success, but more importantly, Nicholas and i found something truly special in each other.