#how is that your first thought when hickeys exist.....?

[yiangchen]

.

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's bord, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he thought he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask, "ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans in, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[wosospacegirl]

So...um I'm having thoughts...😳

The cigar stays. Cocky Leah with a cigar as you ride her I mean what? 🫣

Overachierver - Leah williamson

a/n: I know I said I was only going to be back at posting in June, but well, Leah Williamson exists and lesbiansm too, so let's go.

Sorry for any typos, I literally just blurred every thought I my head, it might be a bit messy, too- but I think we like messy in this blog ;)

warnings: (+18) oral, fingering and use of strap (all r receiving)

..

Leah was cocky.

You knew that already, long before actually dating her. It stood out in the way she carried herself, walked, talked, and styled her clothes–but especially in the way she leaned over you when you first met, hand boldly on your waist as she asked if you wanted to go home with her.;

Arsenal had just won their second Champions League trophy, beating one of the best teams in Europe: Barcelona.

Arsenal were the underdogs. They had lost big and small games, gone through a series of injuries and a change in managers.

All odds were against them.

But still, Leah continued to be smug. 

She knew the capacity of her team. 

She knew her childhood club could do it.

And they did.

As soon as the whistle blew, you were screaming for Leah from the stands, feeling all kinds of excitement in your chest.s

When you saw her, you didn’t care about the flashing lights or the people watching as you threw yourself into your girlfriend’s arms.

You weren’t a player. 

The pitch wasn’t a normal place for you. But here with Leah, you were comfortable, happy, proud of her and everything the team had accomplished.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t stick by her side for the rest of the day.

The team had to walk back to the locker room, which you couldn’t go into. But judging by the pictures, they had a lot of fun.

Then they went to the party.

It was small, but each player could bring their family and friends. 

Of course, you were there when the team, mainly Leah, walked in with the trophy in hand and a gold medal around their necks.

Then the singing started, and the drinking continued.

You had a few yourself, Leah too, but you were more wasted than she was..

As everybody celebrated, Leah kept you at arm’s reach. 

She held your hip in place, her hands cupping your jaw as she kissed you in one of the corners of the room, away from watchful eyes, making promises about when you two would get to the hotel.

She promised she would sneak out of her room to get to yours.

When you realised you were getting too ahead of yourself with the alcohol, you sat alone in one of the chairs. 

Leah, like a puppy, was next to you, giving you water and some snacks, the smug smile on her face never faltering.

She sat on your lap, the light from the dance floor reflecting on her medal. It gave you a slight headache–or maybe it was all the Heineken.

Leah had drunk more than you. How could she look so composed? She looked beautiful, smelled amazing, even after playing a whole 90 minutes in a Champions League final.

She was so close to you.

You wanted a bite.

So you took it.

Your teeth held the skin of her neck. It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate.

“No,” Leah said. “Not now.”

“Why?” you pouted. “You won. You deserve it.”

“Deserve what?” Leah grinned. “A hickey?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, your head dizzy with alcohol.

You wrapped your arms around her torso, pulling her close onto your lap.

It felt weird, Leah was taller than you, but you wanted her against you anyway.

You kissed the place you had bitten. It was already turning red. 

Leah’s skin was too pale; you could barely touch it before it was turning that purple shade you liked so much.

“I fear you might be too drunk,” Leah said, turning her head to look at you. “You’re not used to drinking.”

“I wanted to celebrate,” you whined. “But my head hurts now.”

“It’s okay,” Leah said, kissing your mouth. “It’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Are you still going to my room?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I much prefer to spend the night with my girlfriend than with Kim.”

“Good,” you mumbled.

Your hands were under her shirt, circling her belly, but now they were up, almost at her bra  “Want you.”

“I know you do.”

“Right now.”

“Be patient.”

“Okay,” you agreed.

You were very good. Very patient.

As the party was ending, Leah called a taxi for you. She paid and got you inside, told you to get to your room, put on a comfortable shirt, and wait for her on the bed.

You did just that.

But when you woke up the next day, Leah wasn’t naked beside you. You didn’t have sweat on your body. Your cunt wasn’t wet. The sheets were clean.

“You were sleeping when I got here,” Leah said.

She was sleeping on your side, her Champions shirt still on, her medal still around her neck. Her hair was messy, and her face was creased from the pillow.

She leaned on her elbow, kissingg your mouth gently, slipping her tongue inside. It was a messy kiss, just how you liked it, just how you both wanted.

“I’m sorry,” you said as Leah began trailing down your body, her warm lips sucking your neck determinedly.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, taking your shirt off. “I was wasted too…wouldn’t be able to eat you out properly.”

You whined, no words left in you.

Leah took a nipple into her mouth. She bit it, sucked it, then kissed it.

“My pretty girl,” she murmured as she took the other tit in her mouth. “My lucky charm, you are.”

Her hand was caressing your underwear, her fingers circling your clit lazily.

“Got my trophy, got my medal, and now I get my pussy.”

You spread your legs open, inviting her in.

More. You wanted more.

She played with your wet hole, spreading the wetness before putting a finger in. 

Then two. 

Then three. 

You were panting already, heart beating hard against your ribs as Leah moved her fingers.

Her mouth found its way back to your tits as her medal rested on your stomach, giving you chills. 

It was cold.

Leah made you cum.

You bit your own arm so the others wouldn’t hear it. The orgasm took complete control of your body. But Leah didn’t stop.

She was an overachiever.

She took your underwear off, spread your big lips apart, and looked at your clit before kissing it gently. Her tongue circled it before she wrapped her lips around and sucked.

You had never felt so much pleasure in your life. 

Well, maybe you had–because seconds later, Leah hit a spot even deeper inside you, and you were coming again, harder than before, harder than you ever had.

“Oh, fuck,” you heard Leah say.

You opened your eyes. 

You hadn’t realised they were closed.

She was looking between your thighs with the same look she had yesterday, when she was awarded the trophy.

She kissed the inside of your thigh, carefully, gently.

“You squirted, baby,” she said, lapping at your pussy again, cleaning it. “You okay?”

Squirted? 

You didn’t realise you had. But you were also very confused, very dizzy. 

You couldn’t feel your legs, not really. Your arms were too heavy.

You couldn’t formulate thoughts or words.

So you just whined, closed your eyes again, and let Leah take care of you. Which she did.

You felt a warm cloth between your thighs. It hurt.

“Sorry,” she said in a low voice. “You’re sensitive. It’ll be over soon.”

It was true. She quickly cleaned you and put on clean underwear. Then she was back at your side, kissing your face, murmuring things you didn’t understand.

She kissed your cheeks, then your nose. Your forehead was next. But the place she kissed most was your tits.

She laid her head on your chest and latched onto one of your nipples.

You both took a nap like that.

It felt good. Close.

But she left soon after. She had to take the plane with the other girls.

Had to be back in England for the trophy parade.

After she left, you tried to get some dignity back. You took a shower, did your hair, and also left, ready for your flight back home. You were meeting Leah there; you just couldn’t go on the same plane.

The next day, you were there with her again.

The trophy parade was over when you found yourself at her house once more.

Leah still wanted more.

Again–overachiever.

She had a cigar in her mouth, the godforsaken gold medal on her naked chest. 

She picked one of her biggest dildos, it was Arsenal red, because, of course, it was. 

She strapped it around her waist and told you to come sit in her lap.

You took your clothes off quickly and spread your legs as you hovered over her. 

She spread lube on the dildo and held your hips, pulling you down onto her cock.

She filled you up to the brim, her cock hitting your cervix as she held your hips, dictating the pace of your ride. 

It was good that she was in control, because you weren’t in the right state of mind.

You didn’t know what Leah did to you, but she always found a way to take control, always had the upper hand in every situation.

You loved it.

She chewed on her cigar before taking it out, holding it with two fingers, and cupping your jaw, bringing your mouth together.

You didn’t like the taste of cigars, but Leah tasted good.

So good. :)

Leah broke the kiss, putting the cigar back in her mouth.

“Ride your champion, baby,” Leah said. “I deserve it.”

You did just that.

..

a/n: sorry if it's bad, im not used to writing in first person pov, it's still a bit complicated for me, im a third person pov girlie.

[xaviever]

˖ 𑣲 nerd!xavier thought dump …

cw. (afab!reader) 🔞 mdni. nerd!xavier + virgin!xavier (implied). he’s shy but he’s not a sub. hickeys, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, possessiveness obvi it’s xav. use of “pretty girl”.

nerd!xavier who’s just such a cutie pie. introverted and faintly aloof, countless honors awards under his belt (and hopefully you next). tousled hair, his thin glasses above his nose accentuating his gorgeous face, deep, blue eyes as alluring as his intelligence. eager to learn, always on time to lectures, bright-eyed, and bushy tailed.

nerd!xavier who has always thought you were breathtaking. watching you saunter into class the first day is majority of the reason he’s still taking the uninteresting gen ed class you two have together. he often finds himself staring at your side profile, looking away quick with his ears turning red the few times you’ve returned his gaze with a smile and wave.

nerd!xavier who just has to know you. he’s typing out everything but a literal transcription of your professor’s lecture the one day he notices you’re absent, earnestly handing you neat copies next time he sees you.

nerd!xavier who wants you so bad. his once extremely school oriented brain now frenzied over his almost elementary crush on you. he’s stuttering through your conversations, daydreaming sickeningly romantic thoughts of you, scheduling his days down to the minute just for the sweet possibility of spotting you on campus. he’s whipped.

nerd!xavier who sometimes has more… unsavory thoughts about you. still stemming from his pure adoration, he’s overwhelmed by his want, no, need for you and ends up here.

when he can no longer focus on his studying, his mind falling back to the way you rubbed his arm earlier, or giggled at his joke last week, or said his name— he’s tugging at his cock before he even realizes. pants and huffs of your name spill from his pretty pink lips as he fucks his fist to the image of you. he’s hunched over his desk, notebooks crinkling under his free hand’s grip. he’s not a pervert, really! he doesn’t even touch himself often, you’re making him go completely haywire.

nerd!xavier with such a sensitive cock. you’re palming him through his jeans, certain you found his tip when you feel a wetness start to seep through onto your thumb. you’re kissing, him moaning into your mouth before he pulls away and burrows his face in your neck, breathing you in slow to try and calm himself.

“i’ve never…f-felt this way.. mmph! before...” he confesses into your shoulder, his big hand wrapping around yours that was teasing him to halt it. xavier brings his head up, glasses crooked, pupils blown, cheeks flushed. just absolutely wrecked for you. he hisses as you squeeze him through his jeans once more with a sweet smile.

“you want me to touch you, xavier?” it’s dizzying how those words hit him, his name from your lips akin to something religious. he could cum in his pants.

“i do. please.”

nerd!xavier who is very committed to learning how to fuck you right. when he’s face to face with your pussy, looking up at you with so much anticipation, his pretty blues half lidded and misty. he kisses the inside of your palm when you cup his chubby cheek, his hand shaking only a little when he holds your intertwined ones at your side, diving down to attach his lips to your aching clit.

his shy kitten licks quickly drive you insane, and then you’re saying his name again, moaning it, xavier, fuck! xavier, more please! he counts on his lucky stars as he realizes the surge of possessiveness he feels. other people? are supposed to experience this with you? that’s when he channels all the enthusiasm of his first time into his tongue, noting every movement, every single thing that gets a reaction from you. vowing he’ll make you cum so hard you’ll forget other people even exist.

nerd!xavier who’s leaving splotch after splotch of purple, red on your inner thighs. you’re squirming, yelping with each suck, and while he doesn’t necessarily want to hurt you he just can’t help himself. sitting back and admiring his canvas of hickeys, pride overwhelms him, satisfied with his mark on you. at least now, whoever’s next will know. (it’s all for him, he will sooner flunk out then let anyone else be between these legs for the rest of the semester).

nerd!xavier who’s so good with his fingers. he’s slow to push inside you, watching your face for all the minuscule tells you have. you’re so tight he lets out a groan, the thought of pushing his dick inside you next making his big brain fuzzy. xavier curls and stretches and pumps, curious of the other sounds and reactions he can pull from you.

“you’re such a pretty girl…” xavier mutters, shallow breaths fanning your face as he leans into you. “i’m so lucky.”

you beam at the praise, finding his lips again in a kiss with a ferocity you never would’ve initially expected from the quiet boy. the squelches of your needy cunt intensify as you close in on your peak, gasping into his mouth as it washes over you suddenly. he thinks that’s a good thing, right? all he knows is your expression is priceless, and he’s so hard it actually hurts. just as you’re about to dreamily sigh out how good that was, xavier’s blurting out the only way he can think to see you again so soon.

“…do you need help studying for that exam next week?”

— authors note. me when i try to do simple headcanon style but i love xavier so much i fell too far down the rabbit hole. xavier girls pls rally with me :3

[notsodelirious]

Good boy — Jason todd

synopsis: you fuck your boyfriend and then take care of him <3

notes: reader is mentioned to have a dick but you can entirely imagine it as a fem!reader with a strap and she takes it off when she cleans herself up in the bathroom — NSFW MDNI 💛

tags: smut like pure smut, aftercare, anal, subspace (not named), aftercare, established relationship, 1k words, no use of y/n, sub Jason (idk how subby I can make that man before it becomes ooc)

(also I’ve written like 3 drabbles in 3 days and I think I might be deceiving people as to how much I’m actually capable of writing but enjoy <3)

Your hands wrapped around his waist as you pulled him back onto your cock, over and over again, revelling in the sound of his soft, punched out moans. The grind of your hips against his ass was slow, methodical, as you made sure to brush against his abused prostate over and over again.

The desperate whine that had left his throat was glorious.

You had been at this for hours now. While he was patrolling, he kept one comm-line channel open for his family, and the other one for you, a temporary cure for his loneliness as he patrolled his streets. He’d been complaining about how wound up he felt, the stress of work and the thought of the world existing around him. As soon as you had gotten your hands on Jason, you undressed him and pushed him into your bed with a promise to fuck his brains out like he’d never had before, to make him forget he’d ever been stressed in the first place.

And now 3 hours later and 5 orgasms deep, Jason was shaking and panting on your sheets, clutching at the covers. You knew his entire body was oversensitive—you took pride in your work: his throat and chest were covered in hickeys, nipples puffy and ridden with bite marks from your abuse and his cock was barely half-chubbed but you were determined to pull one more small climax from his overspent body.

You continued to fuck him at an infuriating pace, knowing that if he had the words for it, Jason would be cussing you out for taking so long, for teasing him, not giving him what he wanted—but the blubbering, crying mess you had reduced him too was too far gone for words. The only words on his lips were your name and his pleas.

“What a good boy,” you said softly, as you brush your fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head as your other hand runs over the large expanse of his back. There was something thrilling about having such a powerful man shivering in front of you like this—over 200 pounds of muscle and anger, capable of wielding more weapons than you can name, hands that have killed more people than you’ve ever met; and he was sobbing and begging you for something only you could give him.

You felt good.

And you wanted him to feel better.

You sped up ever so slightly, letting the hand on his back dip down to fondle his balls swinging temptingly between the two of you as he rocked back and forth.

“Want to cum again, big boy?” you cooed softly as you started to fondle him gently, rolling them in your palm before moving to wrap your fingers around his cock. He nodded eagerly, tilting his head to look up at you pleadingly. Dried tears streaked across his face, and there was drool on his pillow, all a testament to how truly gone he was.

He near screamed as you sped up, fucking him firmly into the mattress. His cock twitched valiantly in your hand as you jerk him off.

“You love it, don’t you?” you said softly as he moaned, loud enough that your neighbours would probably complain. Again. “Such a smart boy, going stupid for cock. You like being fucked stupid, don’t you?”

You weren’t even sure if he understood what you were saying, the only response to your words being a litany of “please, please, please,” tumbling from his lips as you felt him draw closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, babe, let go.”

It wasn’t as explosive as his first couple of orgasms; he keened, burying his face in the pillows, his cock offering a pathetic spurt of nearly clear cum, adding to the already soaked sheets below him. You fucked him slowly through his orgasm, helping him ride it, before he tapped the space beside his head, drawing you to a halt. His skin was smooth beneath your hands as you rubbed his back for a quiet minute before you pulled away from carefully.

He whined as the overstimulation got to him; the soft squelch of the lube made you smile when you finally released yourself from him. You resisted the urge to run your thumb along his puffy rim, simply admiring how stretched out he was, appreciating how sore he’d probably feel in the next couple of days. You pat his hip, and gently manoeuvre him to lie on his side, away from the cuddle puddle.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised him in a quiet voice before you’re slipping out of the room to the adjoining bathroom. You made sure to be quick, dreading the thought of leaving Jason alone for too long after having put him through so much.

You cleaned yourself up before coming back to him with a damp, warm cloth. He shuffled closer to you as you wiped him down, careful of areas you knew were sensitive.

“Better?” you asked as you set aside the towel and brushed his hair out of his hair. Bright green eyes stare up at you, just about regaining their spark as he slowly comes out of his dazed headspace.

“Stay?” he croaked as he reached out to clasp your arm. You huff a small laugh, leaning forward to place a peck on his lips.

“Eat and drink something for me first, okay?”

He grumbled but sat up with your help, taking the offered water bottle with shaky hands. You reminded him to take small sips as you settled beside him on the edge of the bed, taking the bottle from him when he pulled away and offering him an open granola bar instead.

He pulled you into his lap as he chewed on his bar, an arm around your waist to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.

“Feel better?” you said as he dropped the empty wrapping on the bedside table to be cleaned up tomorrow.

He nodded before he was manhandling you despite still shaky limbs, until you were cuddling appropriately to his taste, his head on your chest and he practically laid on you.

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice, “For taking care of me.”

“Always, big guy,” you ran your hand through his hair, twirling his silver strand around your finger, “Thank you for trusting me with your body.”

“Only you.”

[littlcdarlin]

dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

[ohimsummer]

LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO

— minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread

wc 3.3k

Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.

“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.

He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”

Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own.

Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.

A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.

It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.

“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.

“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.

“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.

Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”

Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.

“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”

A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.

Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.

It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.

Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.

“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.

“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”

“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”

He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”

You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.

“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.

“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”

It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.

“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”

Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.

“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”

This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.

The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.

Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.

There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?

It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.

Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.

A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.

It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”

He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.

“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.

He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.

“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”

Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.

“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”

He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”

Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.

Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.

“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”

He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“

“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“

“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”

Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”

It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.

He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.

It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.

“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.

“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”

And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.

He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.

“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.

You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”

Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”

A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”

“…Keep talking like that and I might.”

tagz: @anthoosies @mysugu

[v4mp-re]

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲

SUMMARY: When your childhood best friend Theodore Nott sleeps with you one night, your feelings for him over complicate the delicacy of the situation. ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ: childhood bestfriend! Theodore Nott x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

T.W: Angst, mentions of lost of parental figure (mother), commitment issues, implications of sex, mentions of the word "porn", mentions of smoking, drinking and promiscuity, the word "fat" used with slight negative connotation, google translated Italian. ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ: @cafekitsune

It was as if all hell broke loose.

Ever since you've been young, your memories have been stained with that of the presence of your best friend, Theodore Nott. Influential pureblood families had to stick together, that and it just so happened that your mothers were good friends. You were about 5 when news of his mother's death came around, still remembering the tear stained cheeks belonging to none other than him.

That was the only time you'd seen him cry before.

The two did everything together, from getting their Hogwarts acceptance letters to getting sorted into the same house and forming a friend group of their own.

The group worked as sort of a combination of both your close friend groups, yours consisting of Pansy and Astoria and his of Mattheo and Lorenzo. It was just the 6 of them for a while until Pansy introduced Draco, who brought Blaise with him, and eventually joined the group as well.

Things changed in 5th year.

What at first seemed like Theodore reconnecting with his mother's death and coming to terms with it, turned into smoking, obsessive drinking and even whoring around. It wasn't something you necessarily expected either, growing up, he was always that chubby kid that you'd befriend but always depised when it came his turn to sit on the swing. Now however, he was different. He had grown, obviously, but puberty laced with Mattheo's influence, shaped him into the man he is today. And as much as you hated to admit it, he was gorgeous.

Theodore Nott. The very boy you grew up with, was now this tall, rich, Italian pureblood, slytherin boy that every girl wanted to get with, far from the ''fat geeky kid'' he used to be.

So what else could he do other than to embrace it?He had never gotten this much attention before and it wasn't as if the girls of Hogwarts were all a pain to look at, plus, Mattheo had showed him enough porn to know what to do, right?

His inexperience wasn't known to you. Surely you thought he had slept with you with the intention of wanting to get together, afterall he was your bestfriend and you both knew each other practically your whole lives. So you took his drunken kiss as a confession, the way his hands slid into your hair, how his tongue slid itself into your mouth, down to the way he looked at you as you laid there bare for him for the first time.

You should have known better.

By the time you woke up, he was gone. His presence almost non existent, except for the faint smell of him still lingering in the air, the only indicator that what happened last night wasn't a wild dream of yours. You thought nothing much of it, getting ready when the sight of your skin littered with hickeys made you freeze. You weren't drunk but you weren't necessarily sober last night either, for it being both your first times, it surely didn't felt like it. Your bodies felt like they were made for each other, and in a way you were conviced you were too.

You got ready, making sure to cover up the bruises claiming your neck as you walked to the great hall. You had been friends long enough to know that Lorenzo's love for the school's food had rubbed off on the others as well. You knew exactly where to look.

Though the sight you were greeted with wasn't necessarily pleasant.

Sitting at where you usually did, was Daphne Greengrass, a gorgeous blonde slytherin that just so happened to be the same year as you guys. Theodore's arm drapped right across her shoulder.

Mattheo, whom was previously in a conversation with Theodore, spots you almost instantly. He smiles that charming grin he always carried, one that you grew to adore, before calling you over. Theodore doesn't even glance.

With your original seat currently occupied by a girl, of which none if them had ever talked to prior, you sat beside the spare spot near Mattheo, who immediately pulls you closer to him by your hips. A gesture you normally would pull away from, yet the sight of Theodore being so cozy with another girl after the night you too had together was a new kind of pain you wish you never knew.

The insistent giggles coming from Daphne felt like a knife getting plunged deeper and deeper into your chest, knowing that the reason for said giggles was the man beside her, so carelessly whispering in her ear as his hand played with her hair.

''You're awfully quiet.'' A voice that unmistakably belonged to no other than Lorenzo. His eyes ever so slightly flickering to the way Mattheo's hand was still snaked around your waist, in which his fingers were carefully drawing patterns against the fabric of your skirt.

''I'm just tired'' You spoke, a slight smile gracing your features though your words carried a certain innuendo to it, one only Theodore could pick up, one which he ignored so openly.

Mattheo's low chuckle unmistakable, his arms moving to wrap around your waist, head nuzzled in the spot between your neck and shoulder. His breath ghosting against the surface of your neck.

Your eyes flickered to Theo, who, would once immediately tell Mattheo off, now sat occupied with the pretty blonde. His eyes fixed on hers like she was the only person that mattered. The glimpses of the night prior, the way he looked at you, how he treated you with such care, now a fleeting memory.

You felt used. Like Theodore had taken advantage of your friendship together and used it as a cheap way to test out what he already knew. Toying with a lot more than you had let on.

It was then on that you decided to distance from the Italian, something he had barely noticed until he strolled into the potions classroom, after flirting with random girls throughout the whole duration of the morning, to an empty spot which you normally occupied.

It was abnormal to him, you were his potions partner, his seat mate that allowed him to copy off you on tests, the one person who could help him pass the class, yet there you were, sitting with Mattheo instead of him.

It wasn't as if finding a new seatmate was hard, almost immediately, a brunette ravenclaw sat beside him, her friends giggling from the seat behind her, but she wasn't you.

As the class went on, Theodore found himself looking your way. His eyes would linger on the way you ever so carefully measured the ingredients and placed them to the side, a gesture that his current partner didn't care to do. How you laughed when Mattheo so dropped the eye of newt in an attempt to flirt with you.

It infuriated Theodore, but god was he too stubborn to admit it.

The smell of alcohol reeked the common room, the blasting of the music through the speakers weighing heavily on the countless of sweaty, intoxicated teenagers present, all of which, unbothered by it.

Draco had thrown possibly the 4th party in the past 4 months, all of which, you had previously attended on Theodore's insistence. This time, it was on someone's insistence, though not his.

Heels clicking with every step, you weaved towards the familiar green leather couch situated in front of the fireplace. Spotting your usual friend group, all of which slightly drunk and possibly high.

Mattheo, ever the observant, spots you almost immediately.

''For a second there I thought you wouldn't show'' His voice laced with amusement, it was clear he had probably been drinking prior, the scent of alcohol lingering with every breath he took.

He doesn't await a response before wrapping his arm around your waist, an action that doesn't go unnoticed by Theodore Nott, who in turn, pushes off the slytherin girl who was previously seated on his lap, before abruptly standing up.

You knew better than to follow after him, that Theodore Nott was no longer any of your business, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anymore.

Moving out of Mattheo's grasp under the excuse of wanting a drink, you made your way to the one place you knew Theo would be.

Theodore knew you'd come after him, you always have. The clicking of your heels an echoing reminder of your fleeting friendship. The once obnoxiously loud music now muted by the glass of the common room balcony.

You knew he'd be there, he always was. "Why are you doing this to me?" He spoke, his gaze fixed on the moonlight that reflected off the black lake, now even darker. The only flicker of light coming from his lighter as he brings it to the cigarette hanging off his lips.

"Doing what Theodore?" You spoke, your tone unconsciously laced with irritation and an air of indifference to his dishriveled appearance.

He pulls the cigarette away from his mouth, letting out a trail of smoke in it's path.

"Cazzo. (fuck) You know what I mean! You and Mattheo! Mio Dio, mi sta facendo impazzire!" (My God, it's driving me crazy) He turns to face you and for the first time tonight, you catch a glimpse of his expression.

It's been years since you've seen Theodore Nott cry, and yet here he was.

He moves towards the lounge chair, sitting at the edge, cigarette long forgotten. His shoulders shake with the kind of sorrow that you've only ever saw once in your life, his face buried in his hands.

"È come se ti stessi perdendo." (It's like I'm losing you) He mumbles ever so slightly, looking up for the first time as his gaze catches yours.

You knew there was no turning back. With your resolved crumbling at the seams, you moved to sit beside him on the chair. "I can't lose you, né a Matteo, né a nessuno" (not to Mattheo, not to anyone)

His cheeks were tear-stained as he stared out toward the lake. The party music in the background had grown faint, almost as if the world itself had narrowed to just the two of you.

But you weren’t having it.

"This isn't fair. You can't just sleep with me and then act like nothing happened! You can't just toss me aside like I was nothing and then get mad when Mattheo suddenly takes interest in me!"

"I don't get why you're bringing up that night we slept together. non è stato un grosso problema." (it wasn't a big deal)

"It was a big deal!" Your voice cracked, the weight of your emotions pouring out with every word.

"And why’s that?!" he snapped back, his voice sharp and defensive, but there was something else there—something unspoken, trembling beneath his anger.

"Because I love you!" The confession tore from your chest like a wound finally bursting open, raw and unfiltered. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the air between you heavy with the gravity of what you’d just said.

He froze, his breath hitching as his eyes searched yours. You could see it—the flicker of vulnerability in the depths of his gaze, the way his jaw tightened as if trying to hold back a storm of emotions.

"You love me?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now, as though the words were too fragile to say out loud.

"Yeah," your voice trembling but resolute. "I have loved you ever since first year, and it's killing me that you're pushing me away and acting like nothing happened!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I’m pushing you away because I don’t know how to stop myself from destroying everything good in my life!" he snapped, his voice breaking. He stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair as he paced in frustration. "You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t hate myself every second for the way I treat you?"

"Then stop doing it!" you cried, standing as well, your voice trembling with anger and pain. "Stop acting like you’re some broken thing that can’t be fixed. I see you, Theo. I’ve always seen you. And you’re not broken—you’re scared. But so am I!"

He stopped pacing, his back to you, his shoulders tense. "You don’t understand," he muttered, his voice low.

"Then make me understand!" you pleaded, stepping closer, your heart hammering in your chest. "Tell me why it’s so hard for you to believe that I love you. I’ve seen the parts of you you’re too scared to show anyone else. And I’m still here, aren’t I?"

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own self-loathing was finally too much to carry. "I’m scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m scared of what happens if I let myself believe it—believe you. Because what if I lose you? What if I ruin it?"

"You’re already losing me," you said softly, tears slipping down your cheeks now. "Every time you push me away, every time you act like this—like we don’t matter—you’re losing me a little more."

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground. Then, slowly, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I don’t want to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession.

"Then stop pushing me away," you pleaded, taking another step closer. "Stop pretending you don’t feel this too."

He hesitated, his lips parting as if to argue, but then he closed the distance between you in one swift, desperate motion. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself break in your embrace.

"I’m sorry," he murmured against your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with raw sincerity. "I’m so sorry."

And as you held him, feeling the tension slowly leave his body, you knew that this was the beginning—not an easy one, but one where neither of you would have to carry the weight alone anymore.

[sinofwriting]

Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other’s arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?”

Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?”

“Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing.

“I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.”

“Four?”

“We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other’s arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!”

“And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.”

She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it’s always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.”

“Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.”

“Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?”

“You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they’re both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?”

He nods.

“For our future kids?”

“Yes.”

“So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds.

He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.”

“Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that.

“Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.”

“I want to pay for any of the kids’ interests. Like art, ballet or karting.”

“No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses.

“Unless,” he encourages.

“If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.”

“No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.”

“Their first degree.”

He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?���

Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.”

His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.”

“First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?”

She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.”

“Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.”

“Not anytime soon at least.”

“I love you.” He murmurs.

“I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone.

“No.”

Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,”

“No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.”

“I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears.

“You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.”

“Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs.

“I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him.

“You’ve been crying.”

“Yeah.”

He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.”

“Yeah.”

He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?”

“That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly.

“You’re going to marry me.”

She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.”

She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.”

“Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours.

“Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.”

“Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.”

“Actually,”

“Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?”

She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it.

“Well, what did it say? The email.”

“Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.”

He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide.

“You know what that means right?”

He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her.

“I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.”

Blue eyes widen.

“And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.”

His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread.

“That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.”

“How I want to?”

“Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.”

“I’m not going to be cruel.”

“No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.”

His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?”

She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver’s debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera.

“Charles. Safe flight?”

“Always. What do you have there?”

“Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?”

He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously.

He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.”

Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.”

Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page.

“The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says.

“Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?”

Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?”

“Your what?”

“Engaged?”

“Impossible.”

“Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it.

He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?”

Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.”

“You’re really engaged.”

“Yes, Christian. I am.”

The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?”

“What?”

“The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.”

“No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption.

The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice.

“Yes.”

“And I never believed you.”

He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else’s. “No.”

Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.”

“Thank you.”

“But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?”

Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?”

She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.”

Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.”

“A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?”

Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.”

“It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George, you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max.

“Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side.

Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?”

“Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him.

Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.”

“Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.”

“Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles.

“It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything.

“Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.”

She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.”

Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down.

“Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it.

She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.”

A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.”

Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you’re a teacher.”

“I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look.

But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.”

“So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?”

Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

[cheralith]

feat. karasu tabito (with otoya eita) || wc: 758 contains: gn!reader, no pronouns used, alcohol consumption, cheating mention, angst a/n: ok last blurb of the day then i gotta lock in for my exam tmrw

karasu frowns at your stupidly wide smile.

"yer drunk."

"so i am!"

abruptly, you stand up. you let out a laugh as your feet toddle from side to side, a sense of balance clearly non-existent. the smell of booze is evident from your clothes when karasu helps you to your feet from the bench you sent your location from. how much liquor you had consumed for tonight, he didn't know. and maybe he doesn't want to.

"'m sorry i called you so unexpectedly..." you murmur as karasu takes off his jacket and rests it on your shoulders, a chill from the night passing through. "you were just the closest person nearby that i could trust..."

karasu's breath hitches at the word. trust. something he thought you and him had extinguished a long time ago, when you, a dear long-term friend of his, broke up with his best friend. he remembers how heartbroken you looked not at otoya, but at him for choosing to stay with the man that cheated on you. for excusing his behavior.

something about bro-code and whatnot. or whatever men in their early twenties talked about that upkept a friendship.

"the designated driver—" you hiccup, body jerking. "—drank too much. a-and all the cab fares are too damn high. and i don't th-think it's wise for me to try and walk home like this..."

"smart move," karasu mutters. a sense of sensibility in a state where you should've lacked some—something that he can admire.

karasu loses some words that he's always wanted to say to you, not sure if this is the right moment to do so, so a silence keeps you and him apart emotionally, only the dissonant shuffle of your feet with his echoing.

"... i saw him tonight," you murmur suddenly.

he glances at you and notices that your head is down. the solemn smile on your lips tell him all that he needs to know.

"he was flirting with a girl, per usual," you warbly laugh, "but... for some reason i couldn't help but think of you when i saw otoya..."

he stops walking. you do too. his chest feels heavy, feels tight. an overdue apology lingering on his chest.

you hum, "it's been, what... five years? since he and i broke up?"

karasu nods, always keeping some sort of close eye on you even after graduating college. you gave him that shred of mercy at least, letting him still follow your socials and even your phone number—even though he hadn't texted a word in it in years until now (though, he'd often find himself rummaging through five-year-old texts that were misted with friendship and a dash of one-sided pining).

he didn't know if it was relief or dread that filled him when he saw your name pop up in his phone.

y/n : hi. hope ur doing well y/n: im drunk hahahhe y/n : do u still live near the bar y/n : if u do can u pick me up from here plz andty [ y/n sent their location ] y/n : plz.. its rly dark out :((

he didn't know how fast he got up out of bed, put on his coat, and ran towards your little blue dot on his phone. how he hated each second that ticked, a second closer that something might get to you faster than he could. how much his heart bloomed with the suppressed ache he had been hiding for years when he saw you for the first time slumped over a bench.

"i think so, yeah," karasu sighs.

you smile blankly and then fall into silence, letting karasu drag you by your feet again.

"you know," you pick up again, "every time i look back at that night, i always feel like i'm getting shot or something."

karasu chest hurts again. he thins his lips, silent, not knowing if he has a say in this. he remembers it too vividly—a drunk otoya with hickeys and lipstick marks on his neck, smelling like an unknown cheap perfume. a tear-stricken you as you yelled at him, then turning to karasu and asking him to choose between the two of you. who he was going to stay loyal to.

with him ultimately choosing the person that would end up in bed with his then-girlfriend at the time not even a year later.

suddenly, you stop walking. karasu does too.

a smile falls to the ground suddenly, along with some tears. "'specially hurts a lot because i lost the person i think i really loved that night."

you turn to karasu suddenly, a sadness swimming deep in your eyes.

"and it wasn't otoya."

[writer-freak]

♥ Romance SFW and NSFW Headcanons

A/n: And I now also have Romance headcanons ready like I'm on a roll(actually I just started with the guys I thought were the easiest to write). You can definitely expect more Kpop Demon Hunters content but I think I'm gonna work on some requests first lmao. (But if someone wants to feed my ask box with Kpdh requests I wouldn't be opposed)

He will write you love letters. Sweet little handwritten notes tucked into your bag, your coat pocket, your nightstand. “To the light of my life, please remember to drink water today. I love you madly.” quite a few of them probably have a kiss mark from him on them.

You mention liking a flower once? He brings a bouquet of it to your door and says something like “These were the prettiest ones they had… but still not even close to your beauty.” You try to roll your eyes, but your cheeks are actually heating up.

He’s so good at reading you. Doesn’t matter how much you try to hide it, he’ll be at your side with a soft, “You okay, my love?” and arms open for a long hug before you can say a word.

Again another clingy man but he#s never overwhelming, just… always there. A hand on the small of your back, forehead kisses, lying on your chest and humming softly.

He loves having his hair played with and will absolutely melt if you braid it, brush it, or just stroke it while he rests in your lap.

He likes going all out for dates with you

Think candlelit rooftop dinners, soft music, and fairy lights.

You’re like, “You really didn’t have to do all this.” And he just looks at you, utterly serious: “But my darling… you exist. That demands celebration.”

He will dramatically fall into your arms at the end of the day like, “I worked hard, and now I need cuddles.”

You scoff, but you always indulge him. He rewards you with soft kisses up your neck and sleepy romantic murmurs

He sings you to sleep (Yes, Really)

Softly hums while holding you at night, especially if you’re stressed. Sometimes it’s a lullaby in Korean, sometimes it’s whatever pop song’s been stuck in his head, but always sweet, always close to your ear.

If you fall asleep first, he kisses your forehead and whispers, “Goodnight, my heart.”

NSFW

I think he does more poetic dirty talk

He will whisper things like, “You are divine… like something dreamt up just to drive me wild.” while trailing kisses down your neck.

Then suddenly shift into a lower tone: “And you entirely belong to me.”

He’s flirty, thinks nothing of whispering in your ear in public, brushing your thigh under the table, or leaning close to say, “Careful, my love. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to carry you home early.”

Loves when you’re on top (in every way)

I like to believe that he would just worship you. You ride him and he adores it, hands gripping your thighs like he’s in church and you’re the altar. “You look like heaven above me” he moans, breathless and wide-eyed.

Marks You Subtly but also clearly

Nothing too aggressive just the ghost of teeth at your shoulder, a hickey just beneath your collar. “So everyone knows someone treasures you properly.”

Also one obsessed with you wearing his stuff. “You look better in it than I ever could, babe.”

Cuddly, and talkative Aftercare

Once you're both calmed down satisfied sighs escaping you

He wraps around you, pulls the blanket up, and strokes your skin like you’re precious porcelain. Whispers compliments into your shoulder “I love you so much it scares me sometimes. But I’d still choose you every time.”

Divider by: @hyuneskkami

My Kpop Demon Hunters Masterlist

[artofchoisan]

MAKING THE GAMER LORD JEALOUS?

Idol!Gamer!Yunho x Jealous!Reader

The Plot: Caught in the whirlwind of your boyfriend Jeong Yunho’s obsession with the tactical shooter game Valorant, you feel neglected as his gaming sessions consume his time, leaving you craving his attention. Frustrated and desperate, you devise a plan with Yunho’s friend Wooyoung to provoke his jealousy by flirting with professional gamers from T1, hoping to reignite his focus on you. However, your scheme pushes Yunho too far, awakening his possessive side, and he decides to punish you for your actions, reminding you exactly who you belong to.

TW: Punishment, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bondage (Collar and Leash), Edging, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Spanking, Light Choking, Dirty Talk

Words: 6.8k

► ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Everyone that ever step foot upon this earth always come across some sort of enemy, someone that instilled a hatred into them that until their last breath would be casted upon this realm of existence, they would clung tightly to it and as for your case, your hatred was unfortunately not towards a person though you wished it had been the case, it would have been simpler and easier.

Alas, no. 

It wasn't a person that caused a fire of anger and annoyance to clash like two warring storms in your soul.

It was this godforsaken game, Valorant.

A bonehead game that takes all your boyfriend's attention. 

Jeong Yunho had nothing on any other guys that you’ve been with. A sweetheart and perfection on legs with the personality of a golden retriever and a smile that not even the brightest star in the universe can go against.

Warm and gentleness was injected into his veins and when his smile lit up the room it mirrored an adorable golden retriever wagging its tail out of pure joy and love and lets not get started on though warmth lingers in him, in the intimacy he is an alpha in heat between the sheets with bedroom eyes and a roughness that caused pure ecstasy. 

Yet sometimes when he isn't being soft-spoken or sin-drenched.

Yunho just plays this team-based first-person tactical hero shooter called Valorant and these days it’s been more than normal to the point where on a live to his fans, he even played that and even before this live he wanted to practice which means you’ve been just left there although he had tried to make you to play with him, it failed to spark your interest.

He understands you.

You understand him.

Yet you could do nothing yet to only crave for his attention, his tour had just finished and you thought he would pounce on you like a starved beast and ravage you leaving you with hickeys and love bruises and bite shattered all over your skin.

But no as soon as the tour was done he only went onto practice mode even when the management had told him he didn't need to practice and can just have some time for himself he refused and went on full practice mode.

Nonetheless you didn't want to tell him how abandoned you felt, you knew him too well and knew that he wanted to finish it before allowing himself to loosen up before more of his schedule took up his time. 

There were only a few hours left and your lover was still practicing as you were just lying in the bedroom on your phone, before your eyes darted up when you noticed you got a notification from…Wooyoung? 

Humming in confusion you opened the message and your eyes widened before you let out a silent scoff. You've spoken to Wooyoung about how it was with Yunho and he told you he would find a way to get what you wanted and it was this little menace who gave you the idea of riling up Yunho so as to give you what you wanted.

“This guy is truly something.” You breathed out as you read Wooyoung’s plan who also had somehow dragged the management as well into this, this plan was truly unhinge yet you’ve expected nothing less from Jung Wooyoung, “Let’s get the plan started.”

The hours went by and just like that Yunho was ready and the live was soon to start the live before Wooyoung wicked agenda started to be put in action when the manager signalled Yunho, “Also Yunho, this will not be told to the fan but we’ve got a special something for you.”

“What happened?” Yunho inquired curiously as he adjusted his headset.

“The first team you will be playing against will be some members from T1 who are Oner, Gumayushi, Keria, Doran and Chovy from Gen.G.” As the manager processed this information to Yunho, you noticed how his eyes grew wider and wider as well as how his mouth dropped. He was just put against the best pro gamers of the whole country with T1 members who are known as the gods of the gaming scene and who are just as famous if not even more than any other idols.

“Is this a joke?” Was what he first blurted out as he couldn't believe what he was hearing with his expression clouded in confusion, “How did you guys even manage that?”

The manager could only shrug at this with his reply being, “They just wanted to give you this as a gift so what you have to do is to not let it out to the fans that you’re playing against them.”

Yunho nodded slowly as he rested back on his chair, confusion still etched into his demeanor, his mind lost in thought as he adjusted the volume and started the game. 

He locked into a playful expression as he started the live, “Hello Atiny!” His bright smile lit up the scene and as soon he did, the other players joined in as well who were the members of T1 but they were on different names so as to not cause any suspicion.

What the fans might also not be aware of was the fact he wasn't in KQ building but at SK Telecom building and in the next room were the members of T1, you could do nothing but to also wonder what kind of magic wandered along the fingertips of Wooyoung to being able to pull such a scheme.

Then when you think more about it, Keria from T1 is just as unhinged as Wooyoung so they could be friends.

Demons danced onto his weary shoulders as the pressure took hold on him, your plan to get back to him, gain your boyfriend a one of a lifetime chance and honor to go against the best team not only of Korea but of the whole world although not in the game they’re the gods.

Once the game was on you’ve had no idea what was even going on so you’ve just decided to go walk around the SK telecom building after around one hour of forcing your gaze to focus on the game Yunho was playing, despite everything he always look so good when he is on full concentration mode like that and you couldn't help but hold in your giggles at each and every moment he almost curses out.

You’ve been walking around as you get access to all the different kinds of rooms in SK telecom. It has been nothing but pure fun as you’ve fallen asleep for around two and a half on the massage chairs in the resting room area. 

“Two hours already damn…” You whispered as you stretched out and rubbed your eyes, “Those chairs are so comfortable though but ugh so hungry now.”

What you’ve kept as a secret from Yunho is the fact that you’re indeed not one for games but you’ve fallen in love with the humility of T1’s members and you knew that Wooyoung was aware of that and you were just dreading what his plan actually implied as you walked towards the cafeteria.

By now the match along with the live must have already ended as you can see Oner, Keria and Gumayushi walking into the cafeteria. Looks like indeed Wooyoung was friends with Keria as when he saw you he pointed and rushed to you with the other two following behind, “You must be the person Wooyoung told us about.”

As he spoke, the smirk dancing on the corner of his eyes caught your attention, yet you could only smile shyly, you admired him just as much as you were in awe in front of Faker, “I guess I am.” You giggled, “How was the match?”

“He’s boiling right now.” This reply came from Oner who happened to just sat next to you making you in the middle of a way too playful Keria and a calm yet amused Oner who was just sipping on his drink before a another smirk appeared, “Once the live was done he lost his cool.”

You knew it too well how your boyfriend can be when he lost and he tended to also curse the hell out of the enemy team and then it was then it registered to you, Wooyoung this little menace.

“I heard you’ve been a fan of ours.” A wicked charming smirk carved across Oner’s face.

Keria then joined in and added, “And another rumour is going on that you’ve got a crush on Oner right there.” 

As soon as he spoke those words your face not only blossomed into a deep red but at the same time Oner was quite close to you and to top it all off, you got all red from how shy you’ve felt but trying to look away your eyes cross path with someone whom definitely heard everything as they entered the cafeteria and it was Yunho.

Those eyes of his never lied, it got darkened as his whole body looked tensed yet as calmness wrapped around his demeanor another truth could be etched was how he had his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, carving him into a hungry beast thrusting for its next prey and set to annihilate anyone that ever played with his nerve.

So, seeing the man that just beat him flirting with his girl so close with said girl getting all shy just didn't make it any better.

And what did you do?

Played along because your dear boyfriend needed a wake up call and you were needy for him.

So two can play at this game as you turn your gaze back onto Oner and smiled as you adjusted a strand of hair behind your ear, “You caught me there, although Faker win my heart, you’re not so far ahead—”

As soon as those ghosts of words slipped from your lips, a crash was heard and you look behind to see a glass had slipped from Yunho’s hand where some staff rushed to see if he was alright and he only nodded but you could see the murderous intent that threatened to break free into his gaze.

His stare turned back to you and it brought chills to your body as excitement twisted and slithered under your skin and you only handed Yunho an innocent smile and a challenging look before turning back to Oner and smiled.

The only thought in your mind as the chef plated the food to you and the others is how to add more salt to the injury as you picked a bite of your chicken, “You guys are so lucky to have your own private chef and the food looks so good.”

Oner hummed in response as he devoured his food, “You can come over anytime.” The pro gamer winked teasingly at you, “You’d get all this good food for free.”

“Then I would love to.” You take a bite of your chicken and you were not lying as this food tasted divine then you took another piece of chicken from your fork and handed it toward Oner’s mouth, “Here try some of mine, it’s really good and since you seem to exercise a lot it look like you’ll need lots of protein.”

As all of this scene was unfolding, you were not blind of the lethal stare that was locked onto you that you blatantly ignored as you only giggled closer to Oner.

Adding even more salt to the wound that was opened you added, “Well I’m not well versed in the gaming scene but I guess you can teach me then.” 

Mic drop.

The final attack.

Yunho was the first one who had to disappear due to one last schedule of the day. You thanked Keria and Oner for their help and both of them chuckled before Oner added, “I just hope he won’t punch me  in the face next time we meet.”

Keria laughed, “Currently it's more her in hot waters right now.” Then a serious tone darted onto his words, “I understand your reasons and having a gamer boyfriend plus idol isn't for the fainted heart but seeing the way how he wanted to just walk straight over here and slammed Oner’s head onto the table, this guy really in love and just needed a wake up call.”

Gratitude warmth in your tone as you thanked them, it was time for you to return home and you’ve barely crossed the threshold of the shared apartment of you and Yunho that you could almost feel the tension that burned into the atmosphere as you threw your back on the couch, exhausted.

Yunho was inside the place, his shoes were just outside and he always knew you were inside the apartment.

Only closing your eyes as you rested your head back against the couch, the light was turn on and the room was illuminated by the glow of the moonlight and streetlight followed by the light breeze of the opened balcony door was relaxing and you could feel yourself slowly fall back into the arms of Morpheus, however, the sound of the bedroom door opening caused you to slowly open your eyes.

Jeong Yunho stood in front of you, fresh out of the shower, with one towel around his waist and another around his neck as droplets of water dripping from his hair while the the haunting gleam of the moon gently touched his frame making him even more ethereal while his gaze had a dangerous fire shining into them.

A smoldering gaze of yours danced across his bared body, his abdominal muscles were a sight to see and the droplets of water that slithered down the curved of those muscles cause for the anger that hurled inside of you to escape and it did, in a short and cold tone, “Something the matter Yunho?”

His expressionless eyes met yours, “Shouldn't you be the one telling me what’s going on.”

This deep voice of his brought shivers to your spine and he looked down on you like that yet you knew how to control your emotions as you only handed him a smile, “Ah..” Mockery first, “You should’ve tried the food, it was delicious.” Taunting to end it. 

His hands came slamming down on each side of the couch and his darkened stare never left yours as his head tilted to the side, his face closer to yours as you felt his hot breath and the droplets of water falling softly. 

Fingers sinking in the couch with a force that caused you to flinch yet your face remained cold with a challenging look into your eyes that looked up at him, his breathing rushed and ragged onto your skin as he growled, “You’re testing my limits a bit too much now.”

Leaning closer towards his ear, “I have no idea what you’re talking about babe.” A dark amusement flickered in your voice.

Feeling him almost growling, you couldn't help your smile and just on time, your phone vibrated with a message and his dark eyes only darted at your phone, and fury could be seen from his gaze as he read the name it was from Hyeon-jun, Oner real name and this familiarity only enraged Yunho even more.

“I do not like what happened today.” A murmur lost into the darkness with a gaze burning with restrained and dangerous, “How you flirted, laughing and even fucking fed him food.”

Despite still holding the gaze of Yunho with a nonchalant challenging gaze. You couldn't help but to gulp, him swearing like that, his words dripped in a slow, smoldering drawl, it was so sinfully arousing.

“Let me take this, it’s quite rude to not answer.” Ignoring him and reaching out for your phone only burned his patience to ash as his own composure snapped and he took the phone and throw it onto the other couch, “Hey that was quite rude—”

Your own words strangled before they could escape as the heat bled from his palm as the touch of his fingertips settled around the skin of your throat, claiming its presence without force and you managed to bite out half of the moan that gasped out.

Arousing tension licked up your spine, but you refused to give Yunho the satisfaction, though you knew he caught sight of how you gulped and how you almost moaned.

Only wanting to taunt him even more as a sickening smile crawled into life on your lips, “Didn't know you were into such a kink.”

A mild force traced your neck as he leaned closer to your ear, “Was it all for me?” Calm fury burning his tone as his hot breathing scorched your ear, lips almost touching them as he pressed on, voice like a low growl, “That you’re now being such a whore.” The words spilled out, darker with each breath and you didn't think such vulgarity from his mouth would turn you on so horridly like that.

“Knowing you…” Yunho growled, fingers still pressed around your neck as his slightly wet hair pressed against your forehead, “It must have been all just a sick idea from Wooyoung.” Yunho knew Wooyoung for so long that he wasn't surprised by his friend's antics but right now it had hit him way too close for him to see it as acceptable.

"You really wanna test me?" he whispered, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe as you fought yourself to not let any weakness seep through your demeanor.

Then, without warning, Yunho pushed himself away from you, standing tall as he ran a hand through his wet hair, jaw tight.

You blinked, watching him walk over to the TV — muscles tense under the towel as he opened the drawer like he was searching for something specific.

Your breath caught when you saw what he pulled out.

A black leather collar and leash.

Your eyes widened in bewilderment. "Yunho?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to face you, dangling the leash from his fingers as he stared you down.

"You wanna act like a brat, flirting with that guy — the one who beat me?" His voice was low, rough, cutting right through you as his tongue poke the inside of his mouth. "You think I wouldn't notice? You think I wouldn't do something about it?"

He took a slow step toward you, his gaze never leaving yours.

"And you know what's funny?" he said, a dark smirk curling on his lips. "Wooyoung gave me this as a joke." He let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "Said I'd need it when you start acting out. Looks like he was right."

You swallowed thickly as he stood in front of you, holding out the collar.

"Put it on." His voice was sharp, commanding.

You hesitated, heart pounding. "Yunho—"

He tilted his head, stepping closer until he was towering over you again. "I’m not asking."

When you didn’t move, his hand gently gripped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "Do I need to do it for you?"

The heat from his body, the seriousness in his eyes, made you shiver. "You wanna play games?" he murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Let's play." He dropped the collar in your lap, the metal buckle cold against your skin, and as you stared down at it, realization sank in.

You pushed him too far this time.

And now... Yunho was going to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

Your fingers trembled slightly as they brushed over the leather collar resting in your lap. You could feel Yunho's gaze burning into you, watching, waiting.

When you didn’t move fast enough, he let out a soft, dangerous laugh. "You always have so much to say," he murmured, leaning in close again, his hand reaching out to snatch the collar from your hands.

"Guess I’ll do it myself."

Before you could react, he was behind you, fingers brushing your neck as he gently — but firmly — wrapped the collar around your throat. His knuckles grazed your skin as he adjusted the strap, and when you swallowed, you felt the leather tighten perfectly around you.

The click of the buckle locking into place echoed in your ears, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Perfect," Yunho whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, making you shudder.

Then he moved around to face you again, tugging lightly on the leash now clipped to the collar. You gasped as the gentle pull forced you to look up at him, meeting his dark, heated gaze.

"You wanted my attention, didn’t you?" he smirked, crouching down in front of you, his free hand sliding up your thigh, teasing but possessive. "Well, sweetheart, now you’ve got all of it."

Your breath hitched as his fingers grazed higher, slipping under the hem of your shorts, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of watching you squirm.

"You think I’m gonna let you get away with teasing me all day? Flirting with some other guy?" His hand suddenly gripped your thigh tightly, making you gasp, as he yanked the leash just enough to bring your face inches from his.

"No, baby," he whispered darkly. "Now you're gonna be good for me."

Without warning, he leaned in and claimed your lips, the kiss rough and demanding, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he tugged it between his teeth, making you whimper softly.

"Yunho—"

"Shh," he smirked, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his hand sliding higher until his fingers brushed over the sensitive heat between your legs. "Look at you," he teased, eyes glinting. "Already so worked up... from what? Me? Or the thought of wearing this for me?" He tugged on the leash again for emphasis.

You let out a shaky breath, cheeks flushed as you tried to steady yourself.

"That's what I thought."

Standing up slowly, he looked down at you, towering, the towel around his waist hanging on dangerously loose now. His eyes trailed over your body, dark and hungry.

"Take it off."

You blinked up at him. "W-what?"

He tilted his head, smirk turning sharper. "Your clothes. Off. Now."

When you hesitated again, he tugged sharply on the leash, pulling you up to stand in front of him. You gasped, stumbling a bit, and he caught your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him.

"You wanted to act like a brat, now you’ll act like my good little pet," he whispered, voice sending shivers through you. "Or do I need to help you with that too?"

As Yunho’s hand slid down with slow, deliberate intent, his fingers grazed along your waistline before moving to the button of your shorts. His eyes never left yours — sharp, dark, filled with a dangerous kind of patience, daring you to push him further, daring you to say no.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

You didn’t want to.

Your lips parted slightly as you stared up at him, breathing uneven, but still trying to keep that spark of defiance in your gaze, refusing to give him the full satisfaction just yet.

"After this," Yunho murmured darkly, voice low and rumbling like thunder, "you won’t forget who you belong to."

His hand gave a sharp tug to your shorts, letting them slide down your thighs before pulling back. Then, without breaking eye contact, Yunho’s fingers moved to the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.

You swallowed thickly, heart hammering in your chest — but refused to look away, even as he let the towel drop.

And God, the sight of him made your knees weak.

His cock stood thick and heavy, already hard — long and veiny, with thick veins running along the length, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat. The tip was flushed a deep red, already leaking a drop of precum that made you bite your lip without meaning to.

He was huge, bigger than you ever teased him about — and you knew it, but you still smirked up at him, tilting your head slightly.

"Wow," you breathed, tone laced with a teasing edge, grinning despite the heat rising in your cheeks. "Getting all worked up just because I was a little brat, huh?"

Yunho’s jaw ticked, eyes narrowing, though that smirk never left his lips.

"Keep running that mouth," he said smoothly, wrapping the leash once around his hand as he loomed over you. "See what happens."

Still, you couldn’t help but lean back on the couch slightly, legs spread just enough to tease him, fingers brushing over your own thighs as you looked him up and down.

"Hmm, maybe I’ll need a closer look," you purred, though your voice trembled just a little at the end — a mix of fearless teasing and nervous excitement.

That was all Yunho needed.

With one sharp tug of the leash, he pulled you forward, forcing you to slide off the couch and land on your knees in front of him — exactly where he wanted you.

"Since you want to act like a brat so bad," Yunho growled, staring down at you, his cock now mere inches from your lips. "You can start by putting that mouth to better use."

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, lips curling into a playful smirk.

"And if I don’t?" you challenged, though your body betrayed you, thighs pressing together, breath quickening.

Yunho chuckled darkly, reaching down to brush his thumb over your lips, applying just enough pressure to make you part them.

"Oh, baby," he whispered, smirk deepening. "You will."

Yunho’s thumb dragged slowly over your bottom lip, his cock hovering right in front of your mouth, thick and pulsing, veins running along the length that made your throat tighten just from looking.

“Open up,” he said, voice dark and commanding, giving the leash in his hand a sharp tug that made the collar press tighter against your throat.

You gasped at the pull, lips parting without thinking, and he immediately took the chance to slide the swollen head over your tongue, groaning as your mouth wrapped around him.

“Good girl,” Yunho murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, “You’re being such a good little girl for me.”

You tried to keep control, hollowing your cheeks, tongue swirling teasingly around the tip as you sucked gently — eyes flicking up at him with a bratty glint, as if daring him to react.

And he did.

With a growl, Yunho’s hand in the leash yanked it harder, forcing you to take more of him, your eyes going wide as his thick cock pushed deeper down your throat.

“Yeah, you wanna tease? Keep going,” he grunted, pulling tighter until your nose pressed against his skin, your throat stretching painfully to take him all.

Your hands gripped his thighs tightly as you choked around him, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, a muffled gag vibrating against his length.

“Fuck— look at you,” he groaned, throwing his head back for a second before staring down at you again, his abs flexing as he held you there for a moment longer, making sure you could feel every inch of him buried in your throat.

You whimpered, throat convulsing as you tried to adjust, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t back away — instead, you pushed your tongue out, flattening it against the underside of his cock to make him groan louder.

“Such a good fuckin’ toy for me,” Yunho hissed, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air, only to thrust back in, harder, deeper.

Your hands trembled as you clung to his thighs, and Yunho gave another rough pull on the leash, forcing you back down on him until you were gagging again, choking and drooling around his length.

“Choke on it, baby,” he growled, watching as your throat struggled to take him. “You wanna be a brat? Then you can take it all.”

Tears ran down your cheeks now, but the heat in your core only got worse, and even as you choked, you moaned around him — the sound sending vibrations along his cock that made Yunho curse under his breath.

“Shit—” he gasped, tightening his grip on the leash as he set a brutal pace, fucking your mouth with deep, rough thrusts, each one making you gag louder.

You could barely think, mind fuzzy from the lack of air, tears streaming freely, spit and precum coating your lips and chin in a filthy mess.

But still, even with your throat sore and raw, you looked up at him with glassy eyes, and somehow — somehow — you managed a smirk around his cock.

That look made Yunho snap.

“You wanna keep smirking?” he growled, giving another sharp yank of the leash that had you gasping and choking even more as he buried himself all the way down, holding you there, deep-throated and struggling, until your fingers dug into his thighs in desperation.

Finally, he pulled out, letting you fall back a little as you coughed, tears running down your cheeks, spit dripping from your chin.

You wiped your mouth with a trembling hand, panting hard, throat burning — but that little defiant smile was still there as you looked up at him.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” you rasped, voice raw but full of challenge.

Yunho’s eyes darkened dangerously, his cock twitching, still slick from your mouth.

“Oh, baby,” Yunho growled with a dark smirk, yanking the leash hard to pull you up roughly. “You think I’m done with you? I’m just getting fucking started.”

He shoved you back onto the couch, spreading your legs wide as he climbed between them, his cock thick and glistening, veins running along the shaft, twitching to be inside you.

“Look at you—mouth ruined, but still acting like a brat,” he sneered, stroking himself slowly as his eyes roamed your body.

Leaning in, he pressed the head of his cock against your soaked entrance, teasing you as he tightened the leash, making you gasp.

His lips brushed your ear, voice low and dangerous. “Let’s see how much of that attitude you’ve got left when I’m so deep inside you, you forget how to speak.”

He pushed in just a little, making you moan, before pulling back with a smirk. “You wanna tease me? Flirt with other men?” he whispered, biting your ear. “Nah, baby. I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Yunho looked you dead in the eyes, pulling the leash to keep you right where he wanted.

Yunho hovered over you, his thick cock heavy and aching between your thighs, teasing your entrance but never pushing in — holding that power, that control, watching you with dark, hungry eyes.

The leash was still tight in his hand, fingers curled firmly around it, keeping you right where he wanted.

"You wanna act like a brat?" he growled low in your ear, his free hand gripping your thigh as he aligned himself. "I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to."

Your body trembled under him, heart racing, but just as he was about to push into you — right at that edge — something inside you cracked.

Despite the heat, despite your body wanting him, your heart ached with something deeper. You knew if you didn’t say something now — if you let this continue — things would only stay this way. You would never get to say what’s been eating you up inside.

The usual fire in your eyes dimmed, your gaze softening, shoulders sagging. You licked your lips nervously, voice barely a whisper as your fingers gripped the blanket under you.

“…Red.” It was soft — but loud enough for Yunho to hear.

His whole body froze instantly, like that single word knocked all the air out of his lungs. His eyes widened, the darkness vanishing in a blink, replaced with sudden panic. “F-fuck…” he breathed, dropping the leash like it burned him, hands coming up in the air as if afraid to touch you. “Baby? Shit, baby, are you okay? Did I—did I go too far? Please tell me.”

You stayed quiet, looking down, the weight of the moment heavy between you both.

“Baby—fuck,” he cursed under his breath again, scrambling to grab the nearest blanket and gently wrapping it around your shoulders, covering you up like you were fragile glass that might break. “Babe… please,” Yunho said softer, cupping your face but not fully touching, just hovering, scared. “Talk to me. Please.”

You shook your head, curling into yourself under the blanket. “It’s… it’s not that.”

Yunho’s brows furrowed, confused but still so concerned, his heart racing. “Can I—” he swallowed thickly, “Can I touch you?”

You looked up at him with teary eyes, giving a small nod.

Relief flooded his face as he gently, carefully pulled you into his arms, holding you close, cradling the back of your head like you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

He rocked you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, voice trembling, “I’m so sorry, angel… please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t let me in.”

You sat quietly for a moment, heart pounding, before whispering, “I’m scared…”

Yunho’s arms tightened around you immediately. “Of me? Baby, no—”

You shook your head. “Not of you… I’m scared that gaming means more to you than I do.”

His whole body tensed. “What?”

“I’ve seen it happen before…” you admitted softly, eyes welling up as you stared at the blanket in your lap. “I’ve seen people I care about get so lost in games, they forget everyone else. I’ve seen families fall apart because someone couldn’t put the controller down long enough to love the people waiting for them. I’m scared you’ll choose that too. That I’ll never be more important than a game.”

Yunho’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. “Oh baby… oh my god, no…”

He gently cupped your face, tilting your chin so you had no choice but to meet his soft, teary eyes.

“I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying that. I didn’t know… fuck, I should’ve noticed, should’ve asked what was going on in that beautiful head of yours,” he whispered, voice cracking.

“I should’ve seen that you were scared… should’ve never let it get this far. I’m so sorry, baby.”

His voice was soft, breaking slightly as he cradled you close, his warmth surrounding you.

You clung to him, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt like you were scared to let go, head resting against his chest as his heartbeat thudded loud and steady beneath your ear.

“Promise me?” you whispered, your voice small, vulnerable.

Yunho pulled back just enough to see your face, cupping it gently in both hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears that clung to your lashes, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips — so tender, so full of love it made your chest ache.

“I promise, baby,” he whispered against your lips. “You’ll never be second to anything. You come first. Always.”

And when you looked up at him, finally seeing his sweet self fully back, those warm brown eyes searching yours with nothing but love and worry, you could finally breathe — knowing he was still yours.

“I love you, angel. I’m gonna show you every day that you’re my world,” he murmured into your temple, rocking you in his arms like he never wanted to let go.

But as much as his embrace felt like home, your heart still carried the weight of what you needed to say.

You pulled back just slightly, enough to look him in the eyes, voice shaky but determined now.

“I wasn’t… scared of you, Yunho,” you whispered, eyes glimmering with raw honesty. “I knew you’d never truly hurt me.”

His brows furrowed, listening carefully.

“I was scared of what I’ve been seeing lately… scared of losing you to gaming,” you admitted, your throat tightening. “You’ve been gaming so much more than before, and… it’s like I’m not even there sometimes. Like the game gets all of you and I get… what's left over.”

Yunho's eyes widened, guilt and realization flooding over his face.

“I felt left out, Yunho,” you continued, voice cracking. “Like I was just watching you drift away, and I couldn’t reach you no matter how much I tried.”

“Baby…” he breathed, eyes full of regret as he cupped your face again, softer this time, brushing his thumbs gently across your skin like you were something precious he’d almost lost.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, angel?” he asked, voice low and pained. “I never wanted to make you feel that way — never.”

“I didn’t know how to say it,” you whispered, looking down. “I didn’t want to sound selfish or like I was being too much. But… watching you pull away, watching the game take up all your time… it hurt more than I could admit.”

Yunho pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment, breathing you in like he was grounding himself.

“I’m so sorry, baby. God, I didn’t realize I was making you feel that way…” he said, holding you tighter. “You’re never too much. Never. You are everything to me.”

You sniffled, leaning into his touch, finally letting yourself melt into the safety of his arms.

“I’ll do better,” Yunho promised firmly, pulling back enough to look you in the eyes, sincerity shining in his gaze. “I’ll cut back, baby. I don’t need all that — I need you. I wanna be here with you, really here. No more making you feel like you’re not my priority.”

You searched his eyes, seeing nothing but truth there, and a small smile broke through the sadness.

“I just want you, Yunho,” you whispered.

He smiled softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’ve got me, baby. All of me. From now on.”

With a deep breath, he kissed you gently — no heat, no dominance, just love.

And when he pulled back, he wrapped you tighter in the blanket, tucking you close to his chest.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, yeah?” he whispered against your hair. “Just you and me. No games, no distractions. Just us.”

You nodded, snuggling closer, feeling the weight lift from your chest as he held you like you were his whole world — and you knew, from now on, he’d make sure you always felt that way.

It’s been a few hours since the jealous events, you’re now relaxing your body into the bathtub that Yunho had made for you, as well as even to go to the extent or aromatherapy water and essence and let’s not even get started about the petal roses he added into the water and should I even mentioned the candles Yunho light up all around the bathroom.

Romance with him was indeed never dead with this man.

“Here you go my lady.” The puppy was once more back as he handed up a glass of red wine to which you took with a giggle, him being so fussy with you made you fall even deeper in love with you.

Communication indeed has been the key, telling him how you feel about him gaming too much and feeling like he couldn't care less, he had promised to be better and you know him that he was a man of his words.

The water was hot, the perfect burning temperature to which you adore, relaxing your muscles in the best way possible and soon enough your golden retriever of  a boyfriend joined you in the bath and you snuggled up onto him, a big smile on his face as he hug you closer, “Thank you for giving me another chance.” Words of love as he kisses your forehead.

“I’m just grateful that you understand Yunho.” 

Yunho takes a sip of his own glass of wine, “I’m just in shock how Wooyoung knew of T1 and had such close contact with them, I don't know if I should be grateful or get my revenge on this little menace.”

Pecking him on his cheek, an idea formed in your mind, “I’m thankful for him but how about giving him a taste of his own medicine.” Yunho tilted his head to the side giving you a questioning look, “Well Wooyoung’s girlfriend is a big fan of T1 and especially Faker and I’ve seen her going crazy over him, blushing and being all giddy. So how about we do that?”

“Wooyoung deserves it but how about his girl?”

Shaking your head, you turn your body to him and kiss his neck, feeling the warmth and the wetness of his skin as you trace your lips along his skin, “Trust me yuyu she is just as insane as Wooyoung. Let’s get the plan started.” 

[godricgryffinsnore]

The Quiet Between Heartbeats ♡ : A Cedric Diggory Fan Fiction.

pairing : Cedric Diggory x female!reader

summary : A slow-burn friends-to-lovers romance full of quiet tension, aching glances, and soft, stolen touches. As two hearts grow closer through banter, lingering pinky brushes, and whispered moments in forgotten corners of the castle, love blooms where neither expected it—sweet, fiery, and utterly unforgettable. This is a story of yearning, laughter, kisses like fireworks, and the kind of love that wraps around you like a favorite sweater.

warnings : Heavy romantic tension, Suggestive content (intense kissing, neck kisses, hickeys), Flirty teasing and banter, Mentions of jealousy and possessiveness, Slightly mature themes (no explicit smut), Emotional intimacy and vulnerability. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 3.2k

main master list <3

banners : @uzmacchiato and @roseschoices

It began with the smallest things.

A lingering glance across the Great Hall. A pinky brushing hers on the edge of a table. The way her laugh caught in his chest like a spell he never wanted lifted.

Cedric Diggory had fallen—quietly, hopelessly, and far too early.

They were friends. Good friends. The kind that traded books and shared inside jokes in crowded corridors. The kind who sat side by side in the library, legs brushing underneath the table, pretending it wasn’t anything. He told himself it was enough.

But it wasn’t.

She was a blur of parchment ink and candlelight, with sharp wit and a laugh that unraveled him like a charm undone. She never noticed the way his hands trembled when he passed her notes, or how he lingered every time she touched his arm in passing. She didn’t see the way his eyes followed her like poetry across a page. And he? He noticed everything.

Especially how she didn’t notice him the way he wanted her to.

── .✦

“Honestly,” Oliver said, nudging Cedric as they walked toward the Quidditch pitch, “I don’t think you’ve ever looked at a broom the way you look at her.”

Cedric rolled his eyes, cheeks coloring faintly. “Shut it, Wood.”

“She touched your shoulder this morning and you turned pinker than a Fanged Geranium,” his friend added with a smirk. “Just ask her out already.”

He didn’t respond. How could he explain the agony of wanting something so deeply, yet fearing the ruin of what already existed?

So he did what he always did. He watched her from a distance, from the corner of crowded hallways, through the haze of early morning light in the library, in the stolen moments when no one else noticed the way her fingers tapped to an invisible rhythm while she read.

── .✦

For her part, the reader—blissfully, maddeningly oblivious—had no clue.

Sure, Cedric was handsome. Okay, very handsome. But he was also sweet, soft-spoken, golden to the bone. The kind of boy who made you feel like sunlight lived in your veins. He was her friend. A good one. Always there with a smile, always listening, always warm.

She didn’t realize that the softness in his voice when he said her name was anything more than friendly. Or that the reason he always seemed to sit just close enough to graze her fingers was because he needed to feel her.

She thought she imagined the stares. The way his gaze lingered too long. The hitch in his breath when their hands brushed as they passed a quill. She didn’t realize his hands trembled not from nerves, but from need.

── .✦

“Cedric’s going to lose his mind,” murmured Angelina one evening as they all sat in the common room. “Look at him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her for ten minutes.”

“I swear, they’re doing this on purpose,” Fred added. “Or they’re that daft.”

George leaned over, muttering loudly, “You owe me five galleons if he doesn’t confess before the Yule Ball.”

Cedric caught the end of that and sent them all a warning glare.

But it was true—he was unraveling.

He wanted to hold her hand. Not by accident. Not brushing pinkies under a table. He wanted to take her hand and never let go.

He wanted to kiss her. Not in a dream. Not in the quiet corners of his imagination where she whispered his name like a secret. But for real. For once.

── .✦

It all came undone one night under the stars.

She found him leaning against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, his tie undone, hair windswept. His back was to her, but when he turned—Merlin help her—she saw something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft.

“Hey.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and expectant. She leaned on the railing beside him, looking up at the stars.

“They’re beautiful,” she said.

“So are you,” he said without thinking.

She blinked. “What?”

His eyes met hers. “I said… you are.”

Her breath caught. “Cedric…”

“I know you don’t see it,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I know you think we’re just friends. But I’ve been falling for you since the moment we met. And it’s killing me not to tell you.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You… you what?”

“I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about books. The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking. I love that you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. That you challenge me. That you don’t back down.”

He paused, his voice almost breaking. “And I love you. Gods, I love you.”

The world stilled.

She stood frozen, heart hammering, every heartbeat screaming you fool, you didn’t see it. You didn’t see him loving you all this time.

“Cedric,” she breathed. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he said with a small laugh, brushing his fingers against hers, hesitant, like he was afraid she’d pull away. “I was just hoping someday you would.”

She looked down, saw their pinkies barely touching. And this time—this time—she hooked hers around his.

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime.

“I think I’ve been falling too,” she whispered. “I was just too blind to realize what this was.”

And then—then he kissed her.

It was like fireworks behind her eyelids, soft and slow and filled with everything unsaid. His hands cradled her face like she was made of stardust, and when he pulled away, they were both breathless.

“Say it again,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his.

“I love you.”

And under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, fingers intertwined like a promise sealed, she finally said it back.

And meant it.

── .✦

Being with Cedric was like falling asleep in your favorite chapter and waking up inside a fairytale.

Warm hands. Soft glances. The kind of love that bloomed quietly, but settled in deep. The kind that was tucked into mundane things—the way he always remembered how you took your tea, the way his hand found yours beneath the table, pinkies brushing before fingers fully entwined.

You were his. He was yours. And everyone knew it.

That didn’t mean Cedric was above getting a little… territorial.

── .✦

It started with a harmless interaction—at least, to you.

You were walking across the courtyard after Herbology when Michael Corner approached you, all bright smiles and way-too-familiar charm. He was going on about something—tutoring, or maybe a Hogsmeade trip, you hadn’t really been listening—when you felt it.

The unmistakable presence of Cedric Diggory, warm and thundercloud-silent beside you.

“Corner,” Cedric said, his voice pleasant. Too pleasant.

Michael stiffened. “Oh, hey Cedric. Didn’t see you there.”

“I bet,” Cedric said smoothly, slipping an arm around your waist like it was second nature. (It was.)

You blinked up at him, amused. “Hi, love.”

His gaze didn’t leave Michael’s. “Hey, sweetheart.”

The poor boy stammered something about seeing you later and practically sprinted away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Cedric, raising a brow. “Was that necessary?”

“He was flirting with you,” Cedric said, clearly unconcerned about how obvious his jealousy was.

You laughed, heart fluttering at the hint of pink in his ears. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, kissing your forehead. “But you’re mine.”

── .✦

Later that night, in the comfort of the Hufflepuff common room, you found yourselves curled up on one of the couches, a blanket draped over your legs, the fire crackling softly beside you. Cedric had an arm around your shoulders, and you were tracing shapes on his chest absentmindedly.

“Still mad at Michael Corner?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I’m not mad,” Cedric mumbled, though he was still pouting faintly. “Just… observant.”

You chuckled. “Well, your powers of observation are unparalleled.”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, eyes crinkling with laughter.

You smiled and shifted, brushing your lips along the curve of his neck—soft and deliberate.

The effect was immediate.

Cedric froze, his entire body going tense, and a soft breath hitched in his throat.

You paused, eyes curious. “Cedric?”

“N-Neck,” he stammered, cheeks flushing pink. “Sensitive.”

You blinked. Then slowly, very slowly, smiled.

“Well now that’s useful information.”

“I’m regretting everything,” he muttered, but his hand tightened on your thigh and he was definitely not pushing you away.

You kissed his neck again, just below his ear this time, and he practically melted into the cushions.

“Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, voice low and breathless.

You hummed, pressing one last kiss to his throat before settling against him. “At least you’ll die loved.”

He chuckled, lips brushing your temple. “That I will.”

── .✦

Sometimes, your days were filled with classes and jokes and teasing hands. Other days, they were quiet. Stolen kisses behind bookshelves, love notes tucked into your textbooks in Cedric’s neat handwriting. “For luck,” he’d say with a wink, handing you a daisy before every test.

And every now and then, he’d pull you aside, press you against the nearest wall, and kiss you like the world was ending. Desperate. Tender. Like you were everything he’d ever wanted.

Because you were.

And he? He was everything you hadn’t even known to wish for.

── .✦

One evening, after one of those wall-kiss moments that left you breathless and flushed, you looked up at him with soft eyes and whispered, “Still jealous?”

“Every bloody day,” he whispered against your lips. “Because I know exactly how lucky I am.”

You kissed him again—neck included.

And somewhere between the tangled fingers, the laughter, and the stolen kisses, you both realized something—

This was it.

The love worth waiting for.

── .✦

It started as a game.

A game where your fingers ghosted up Cedric’s arm in the library, where your lips brushed his jaw just to see the way his breath hitched. A game where you leaned in a little too close when he was trying to focus, your voice soft and honey-sweet against the shell of his ear:

“Still mad about Michael Corner?”

The poor boy choked on air.

He had been trying to finish his Potions essay, quill poised with all the noble concentration of a scholar. But then—then—you had curled into his side and began your mission: Operation Drive Cedric Diggory Absolutely Mad.

It was harmless. Almost.

Until your lips found that spot on his neck again.

That tiny space just below his ear, where his breath would catch and his shoulders would tense and that pink flush would rise like ink in water.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” he mumbled, eyes heavy-lidded, voice lower than usual. Half accusation. Half moan.

You only smiled. “Doing what, love?”

“That.”

You blinked up at him innocently. “Kissing my boyfriend?”

He gave you a look, but it quickly shattered the moment you trailed kisses down the side of his throat, lingering longer this time. You sucked softly, gently—just long enough to leave the ghost of a bruise, and he whimpered. His head tilted back, jaw tight, hands clenched in the fabric of your robes like you were the only tether to the earth.

You pulled away slowly, admiring your handiwork. A small, perfect mark blooming like firelight on his pale skin.

“Darling…” he warned, voice wrecked, “you know I’ve got class after this—”

“Oh, I know,” you purred, lips brushing his collarbone. “You’ll just have to wear your scarf, won’t you?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You are so evil.”

You tilted your head, all mock innocence. “And you love it.”

He sighed dramatically, pulling you into his lap with both arms wrapped firmly around your waist. “Unfortunately.”

You grinned and nosed at his neck again.

“You do realize,” he murmured, voice laced with fondness and a hint of vengeance, “that this means war.”

You gave him one final, featherlight kiss just below his jaw. “Bring it on, Diggory.”

── .✦

Later that day in Charms class, everyone noticed the scarf.

Cedric, flushed pink from ear to ear, wore it indoors with grim determination. His friends didn’t even try to hold back their laughter.

“Bit nippy in here, isn’t it, Diggory?” Lee Jordan teased.

“Yeah,” added George, winking, “You catch a chill from all that… snogging?”

Cedric shot a helpless look at you across the room—and found you smirking like the devil in an angel’s uniform.

He was doomed. Doomed and in love.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

── .✦

It was subtle at first.

Too subtle.

You should’ve known Cedric Diggory wouldn’t let your little neck hickey escapade go unanswered. He was the golden boy of Hufflepuff—sweet on the outside, but competitive and cunning when he wanted to be. And right now?

He wanted you flustered.

Badly.

It began one lazy afternoon in the courtyard. You were leaning against an ancient pillar, sun warming your back as you flipped through your Transfiguration notes. Cedric walked over with that slow, confident stride—hands tucked in his pockets, hair tousled by the wind, and the faintest glimmer of mischief in those warm amber eyes.

“Hi, love,” he greeted, voice soft and casual.

You smiled without looking up. “You’ve forgiven me for the scarf incident, I hope?”

“Oh, definitely,” he said, sitting beside you. “Water under the bridge.”

You arched a brow. “Really?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed innocently. “I’ve just decided I like playing the long game.”

You blinked, opening your mouth to ask what he meant—only to feel his fingers skim just above your knee, slow and deliberate, ghosting up the bare skin beneath your uniform skirt.

You inhaled sharply.

“Cedric.”

“Yes, darling?”

“You’re playing with fire.”

He leaned in, voice low against your ear. “Then burn me.”

And suddenly, it was you who couldn’t focus. He didn’t stop there, of course. Over the next week, Cedric launched a full-blown charm offensive, designed specifically to destroy your composure.

Trailing fingers down your spine when no one was watching. Whispering teasing little things into your ear during class. Tugging you onto his lap and pretending to be all innocent when your breath caught at the way he nuzzled your neck—your spot.

“I’m just cold,” he’d say with a wicked smile. “You wouldn’t let your boyfriend freeze, would you?”

He even whispered poetry into your ear once in the library. Poetry.

With his lips brushing your jaw.

You were doomed.

── .✦

But one evening, in the quiet of the Hufflepuff common room, you decided to strike back.

You were curled up beside him on the couch again, his head resting lazily against yours. Everyone else was asleep, and moonlight streamed through the tall windows in soft, silver streaks.

Your hand slid up his chest, featherlight, and then—slowly—you pressed a single, deliberate kiss to his neck.

Cedric froze.

You smiled. “Still sensitive?”

He gave a shaky little breath. “Maybe.”

You pressed another, slower kiss just beneath his jaw.

Then, grazed your teeth against the skin. Gently. Teasing.

He let out the softest, most delicious sound—half gasp, half groan—and before you could smirk, he was on you.

Not in a rough way. No. Cedric Diggory kissed like he meant it.

Like he’d waited a thousand lifetimes just to kiss you again.

He pulled you into his lap, hands splayed against your back, and kissed you until the world blurred around the edges. Until time forgot how to tick.

And in that in-between—the hush of hearts speaking louder than words—he pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Do you have any idea how mad I am for you?”

You touched his cheek, breathless and smiling, eyes shining. “Maybe. But I’d love to hear it again.”

He grinned, then leaned down to your ear.

“I am so incredibly, hopelessly, stupidly in love with you.”

And then he kissed your neck, right where he knew it would make you shiver.

Your breath hitched.

“Told you,” he murmured smugly, lips brushing your skin, “long game.”

── .✦

It was only fair you got the final revenge.

After all, Cedric Diggory had been a menace lately. A beautiful, golden, completely infuriating menace.

From the way he murmured poetry into your ear like a secret spell, to the way he brushed his thumb over your lips whenever you looked distracted. He made you feel like you were the center of the entire universe, like gravity bent to your smile.

So, of course, he deserved to be utterly ruined.

── .✦

You waited until a particularly quiet evening, when most of the castle was either at dinner or tucked into study sessions. You grabbed Cedric’s hand and whispered, “Come with me,” and because he was hopelessly in love with you, he didn’t even hesitate.

You led him to an empty classroom, tucked behind the charms corridor—dim, forgotten, echoing with a gentle hum of candlelight.

He blinked. “What are we doing here?”

You only smiled and tugged him in by the collar.

Then kissed him. Hard.

Your hands slid into his hair, fingers tugging softly, guiding him into the kind of kiss that stole breath and burned slow. Cedric gasped against your lips, stumbling back until he hit the old professor’s desk, hands bracing himself behind him as you kissed him like you owned him.

And maybe you did.

“Love,” he breathed, “what—”

You leaned in, brushing your lips along the line of his jaw. “You wanted a game. I’m playing to win.”

He groaned, head tilting instinctively when you began kissing his neck. Soft. Slow. Deliberate. You sucked gently at the skin just below his ear, just where he always lost it—and sure enough, his knees nearly buckled.

“Merlin,” he gasped, “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” you whispered against his throat. “Because you started this.”

Your kisses grew slower, messier. He slid his hands under your shirt, fingers ghosting over your spine like he needed to touch as much of you as possible. But when you nipped at that sensitive spot behind his ear, he whimpered.

Actual. Whimper.

And you couldn’t help but laugh softly against his neck as he buried his face into your shoulder and said:

“I’m never going to survive you, am I?”

You smiled, breathless. “Not a chance.”

── .✦

The next morning, Cedric didn’t meet your eyes at breakfast.

Face red. Ears pink. Voice cracked when he tried to say “pumpkin juice.”

And when his friend—Oliver, bless him—raised a brow at the bright red hickey blooming on Cedric’s neck?

Cedric choked on his toast and nearly fell off the bench.

You winked at him across the table.

He buried his face in his hands. “I hate you,” he mumbled.

You kicked him under the table. “No you don’t.”

And he peeked at you through his fingers, lips twitching.

“…No,” he said softly. “I don’t.”

── .✦

Later that day, you found Cedric waiting outside your class, arms crossed, smile warm and dangerously soft.

“You,” he said as you approached, “are evil.”

You kissed his cheek. “Still love me?”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing his forehead to yours.

“With every bone in my body. With every beat in my chest. With every piece of me you’ve ever touched.”

“I’m yours.”

You paused, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

Then whispered, “Forever?”

His hands found yours, pinkies linking first—always—and then fingers fully entwining.

“Forever.”

── .✦

And if he pressed you against a stone wall somewhere quiet later, kissing you like the sun rose only for you, well—

That was between you, Cedric, and the blooming heat in your chest that said this was real.

This was everything.

This was love.

[hersuniverse]

KITTEN

SevikaxReader

warnings: MDNI 18+, PWP SMUT!!!, scissoring, masturbation (r), cunnilingus (r!receiving), reader is quite desperate and pervy a lil idk?, afab!reader, no use of y/n, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader isn't described physically (does that make sense?), reader is younger than Sevika but still of age

author's note: I don't know how to feel about this one guys? I rewrote it like 3 times. This is my first actual smut attempt so please, SPARE ME 😭🙏

You remember the first time you’d laid eyes on Sevika, you were young, early twenties and she of course was older than you were but that didn’t bother you all that much.

You’d admire her from afar, only hoping she’d somehow sense your presence and take you in with open arms; though you knew  that’d never happen. You’d see her with Vander most of the time, of course that was before Zaun fell apart. The night she emancipated herself from Vander you watched her in all her glory, the tall broad proposed that Zaun should strike back against Piltover to which Vander disapproved, you didn’t hear too much of what they were saying, far too focused on the woman’s physique. 

Life wasn’t easy to navigate, always feeling too out of focus to grasp reality but there was one thing you understood about yourself and it was when you craved something or someone; and for you, that someone was Sevika. You also knew how controversial it would be for you to be with a woman of such age and power, but something deep down hoped she’d overlook that and keep you safe in her pocket like a silk handkerchief  she’d use when she needed one.

You could only imagine what she was like, her personality, her habits, her smells and her flavours, it made you all that much more curious. 

-

As Zaun grew dark, you grew older and with age came what some would call wisdom and knowledge but to you it was simply life experience and common sense. You got a job working at ‘Marty’s Muck’ stand, it wasn’t easy standing in front of hot stoves for hours but you needed to survive somehow. That didn’t stop your mind from clouding with thought of Sevika, you hadn’t seen her since her argument with vander all those years ago but you kept thinking. 

Thinking turned to dreaming, fantasizing about how you’d interact with her, would she indulge in someone like you? If she did you wouldn’t stop her, you’d do everything in your power to keep her happy. You’d cherish her even if she didn’t do the same for you, you just craved to be in her space as someone more than a friend.

You’d lay in your bed, the only light from the signs shining outside your window. Breath’s heavy, heart racing and a killer ache that you couldn’t seem to ignore. You’d squeeze your eyes shut trying to think of other things to focus on but the only thing that came to mind was her. You sighed in defeat, opening your eyes and staring at the white oblivion above. 

“Forgive me,” You’d whisper to yourself before slowly slipping a hand down your night shorts, an embarrassing amount of slick had built up and the need for release had only grown. You shut your eyes once more letting your mind run wild with inevitable thoughts of the woman, you relished in the idea of her using you solely for her own pleasure.

She’d flip you every which way, take you anywhere and with absolute pride. The image of her sly smirk flashed  through your mind, your hand picking up speed while you gripped the pillow you rested your head on. 

She’d be good at what she did, of course she would at her age she’d know the spots on you that you didn’t know existed. You’d dig your nails into her back leaving scars that she’d wear with pride, she’d leave hickeys in places only you’d be able to see and run your fingers over when you’d miss her. Your stomach tightened, yet you still kept up the pace knowing what was soon to come. 

She wouldn’t be rough all the time, no, there’d be nights where it would be simply passion and not stress. She’d make a mess of you and you’d wonder where your place was in this world, she’d make you feel dirty but in the best way possible. Maybe she’d bring you out to a brothel, pay one of the girls and have you sit back and watch what it means to please. Your back arched off the mattress, you moved your hand from your pillow to your mouth, biting down on the skin in hopes of muffling your noises. 

She wouldn’t let that happen, she’d make sure every single sound was heard and she wouldn’t care how overstimulated you were; if she wanted to fuck you she would.

And there it was, the wave bliss washing over you like the sun coming out from behind a dark cloud. It felt fucking amazing, of course it wasn’t the first time you’d acted so pervy but you just couldn’t help it; the idea of Sevika was insatiable.

-

You arrived to work two hours late the next day, your orgasm from the night before was clearly needed. You frantically apologized to Marty and claimed it was your alarm clock, which was a half truth you didn’t set the clock before blacking out last night but you would’ve done so if you weren’t so fucking horny. 

“I’ll work late tonight, promise!” You offered, which you would later regret.

The stand was dead, and it was as late as ever. You were tidying up the place when you heard a harsh thump from behind you. You let out a quiet huff “What can I grab for you toda-” You turned around to find Sevika, beaten and battered and with a  mechanical arm sitting down at your stand. 

“Can a lady get a hand here?” She groaned, clearly out of it. 

You didn't know what else to do, so you quickly locked up shop and attempted to safely get her back to your place. It wasn’t easy seeing as she weighed three times your size but you didn’t care, you wanted to help. You spent that night patching her up in your living room, you tried to ask her what happened but she kept dodging your questions with snarky remarks and those stupid sexy smirks of hers.  

Funny, the woman you were just getting off too last night was now in your house. You patched her the best you could, you tried to stay focused but the contorted faces she’d make whenever  you’d apply rubbing alcohol to an open wound only made you more curious. 

Once you’d fixed her up to the best of your abilities, you took into account the large metal arm she now had. It was damaged and you weren’t exactly a handyman, you reached over to the damaged prosthetic trying to get a closer look. 

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll fix it…” She stirred in her spot on the couch trying to get comfortable, her heavy eyes slowly shutting. You didn’t bother disturbing her, simply grabbing an extra blanket and draping it over her sleeping figure. Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, you admired her bruised face, noticing what you assumed was a vein that had raised and was glowing purple a bit? 

You discarded the detail, you returned to your room changing into your pj’s and laying on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling. You felt guilty and a bit perverted after the night before, the thought of your behaviour made you curl up under the sheets and hope you’d somehow feel a bit better. 

The next morning was lonely, when you woke up you’d walked out to the living room expecting Sevika to still be there whether she was awake or still asleep. Unfortunately for you that wasn’t the case , she was nowhere to be found when you entered the living room, just a discarded blanket and an open window. 

-

That would be just the beginning, you started dropping by ‘The Last Drop’ usually just to get one drink for the road but you’d never stick to that plan, especially when she came around. The first time, she joined you at the bar side, thanking you for your good deed and offering you another drink which you took thankfully. 

That would become a regular occurrence for the two of you, when you’d catch her at the Bar of course. Some nights you’d go home unlucky because she’d be out at work, you didn’t know exactly what she did for work but you didn’t bother to ask too many questions. 

That was until one night in particular she joined you at the bar, rather giddy compared to other nights and a bit handsy too. Sometimes she’d put an arm around you or your chair for that matter, rest a hand on your shoulder when trying to be dramatic or rest her hand on top of yours; not tonight though. 

She slunk her hand around your lower back as she listened to you intently with a smile, you’d catch her eyeing you sometimes which you tried to ignore but how could you with such close proximity and that same ache between your legs. 

She’d say subtle things, like how much she liked your outfit and how cute you were. You wondered if she could see you squirming in your spot, trying to fix your slicked underwear, anything to make it feel a bit more comfortable. She smirked.

“You’re so cute and bright eyed, like a kitten.” You could feel your heart ready to burst.

She later offered to walk you home and of course how could you turn down an offer like that?

The walk was something, you guys walked around the lanes taking your sweet time to get home. You admired Sevika in the street lights, over the past few weeks you’ve been taking her in little by little, spotting more details about her as time went on. Her little reaction to things, scratches in her prosthetic arm and patterns in her drinking habit. 

There was so much you were learning about her, but there was still more that you had yet to learn of. 

Once you finally reached your door, you stood in front of Sevika, there was a thick tension all of a sudden; if you hadn’t noticed it earlier you sure did now, you bit the inside of your cheek feeling a bit embarrassed at your feeling of need. 

“Are you still with me, kitten?” You had zoned out on her, you apologized claiming you were just tired after a long day and she smiled at you. She told you goodnight before starting her walk away from you. 

“Sevika wait,” She stopped dead in her tracks before turning back to you, you moved quickly pulling her into a needy kiss and thanked whoever was above that she returned the same gesture. She pulled you into her and started to walk backwards to your door. 

You both wasted no time, discarding your garments after stepping through the front door. You stumbled over to the couch where she kept you pinned beneath her, she travelled down your body quickly, your desperation got the better of you as you were unable to lay still as she did.

She couldn’t be more charmed when she pulled your underwear down your legs, revealing your cunt that was humiliatingly drenched. You whined at the feeling of your core being exposed to the cold air, which was soon followed by a sharp gasp at the feeling of warmth between your thighs; Sevika was going to town. 

It was just like your dreams, messy yet perfect. Her tongue worked miracles that you could only be thankful for, you bucked up into her so much to the point that she placed her hands on your hips to keep you place, helping her leverage, you felt the cold metal against your skin, causing shivers to coral across your skin. You raked your nails through her scalp before reaching the back of her neck, you dug your nails into the nape while throwing your head back. You could feel her chuckle against you. 

You hadn’t gotten a good head in a long time, or at all for that matter. What Sevika had done was more than just regular pussy eating, no, this was an art form one she’d probably practiced on many other women just to get it right but you could care less. The woman of your dreams was in between your thighs devouring you like a last meal, your dreams were playing out before your eyes and god where you happy. 

Things were picking up, you could feel that knot building but it wasn’t the same, of course it wasn’t it wasn’t your hand rubbing circles into your usual spots; this was a woman with the intention of making you come for her own pleasure and you wouldn’t deny her that. 

With an arch in your back and a loud moan of her name, you tipped over the edge you’d been teetering on. It was like heaven, you didn’t bother fighting or holding out, you didn’t want to disappoint her after all. You caught her looking down at you while cleaning her mouth and licking your residue off her fingers.

“You can do one more, right Kitten?” You nodded frantically as your chest heaved trying to catch your breath, you were desperate to please and be pleased. She pulled your bra down, freeing your boobs and giving them a light squeeze. “So soft,” she commented. You rested your hands on her wrists as she gave you a quick massage. Once she’d let go, it didn’t take long for her to remove her own underwear and toss it somewhere in the room, she spread your legs giving herself enough room to settle between them, the cold metal causing you to suck in a  short breath. 

She held one leg over her shoulder as the other rested against the couch. “Ready?” giving her another nod, you pulled your bottom lip in with your top teeth, watching her settle herself against you. A noise escaped you both, the pressure from her cunt on top of yours was everything, you tried moving against her but she had other plans. 

She grinded against you with no desire of being gentle, she just wanted to fuck you and you let her. “Fuck!” You moaned as she began picking up her pace, the room was filled with moaned profanities coming from you both and the sound of your two slick coated cunts rubbing against each other. 

You moved your hands to her hips, trying to ground yourself as you felt like your mind was slowly melting with each hump. You watched Sevika fuck you, letting the image burn itself ito your mind for later purposes. Your pussy was glossed in juices from the both of you, you couldn’t remember the last time it’d looked this good against someone else. 

You could feel yourself approaching that same edge again and you could tell that Sevika was too, she was slowly getting sloppy with her thrusts and had placed a hand on your waist to stay balanced. “Go on, Kitten, give me what I want.” And you did just that. 

Your back arched off the couch once more, if not higher this time, you gripped the couch cushion for dear life as you threw your head back, she could feel you twitching against her as she delivered her last few grinds against your core. “Vika!” You called, she perked her head up, caught off guard by the nickname but still coming nonetheless. 

She laid down on top of you, both of you breathless and coated in a light layer of sweat, she rested her head on your stomach. “That was good.” You said, trying to coax a conversation out of her before you both fell asleep. 

“I know.” She hummed, obviously tired. You moved your hands to her back, caressing different shapes into her skin. Sevika was soon sound asleep against your skin, light snores filling the room. You smiled to yourself before joining her in her slumber. 

You felt whole for a moment, like nothing bad could ever happen to you because she was there with you. You slowly close your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your dreams were filled ith the image of Sevika fucking you dumb, whether it was over a counter or in your bed your mind showed it all. 

-

Once you’d woken from your wet dream saga, you found yourself on the couch alone. The same blanket you’d let her borrow draped over you. You sat up confused, hugging the sheet under your arms and rushing to get up and look around. 

“Sevika?” You called a numerous amount of times as you searched your place, she was just nowhere to be found. That’s when you realized the window was open, letting in a light breeze, you felt slightly hurt by the gesture but who knows, she probably had work. 

You searched around your living room picking up your clothes from last night in attempts to start tidying but seemingly unable to locate…your underwear?

[fictionismyreality3]

Before You Go (18+)

Warnings: romance and everything that come with it, SMUT AT THE END

Notes: thank u lana del rey for giving me this title 🫡 he’s so lana coded. we love our emotionally stunted bbg simon

Kisses with Simon weren’t always as easy as they had become over the years of you being together.

There was a time when Simon wouldn’t even let you touch anything but his hands or his arms. It took coaxing him like a scared animal, gentle words you offered again and again for him to finally take his balaclava off. That was a good night. You can still remember his shakiness, hands that had been so steady taking a life now quivering at the act of being known.

“Just fuckin’ hurry up.” He snapped, but the anger tasted more like fear when it left his mouth.

“You aren’t gonna want-”

The words of self-loathing barely met the air before you’d leaned down, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. You held his hand as his breath heaved, not commenting on the way his whole body trembled when your lips finally connected with his.

Then there were kisses of maintenance.

At least, that’s what Ghost thought of them as. Keeping you as his slowly became the most important part of his life, the need to have you weaselled its way into his soul. He had no fucking clue how to how to make sure you stayed. He didn’t even really know why you showed up in the first place, but whatever gods that still thought he was worthy enough had given him you, and he wasn’t going to damage the opportunity.

You were his girl.

But Simon was oblivious to how to keep a woman happy. Yeah, he fucked you raw every chance he could, he beat the shit out of anyone you frowned at, but the gentleness you exuded existed nowhere in himself.

It was only when he’d been cleaning his guns, not on the kitchen table because you didn’t like that, that he got a little spark of understanding.

He had to take care of you.

Never letting you go without a reminder that he was always around. It started with morning and night kisses, making sure you were stuck with the taste of him even in your dreams. He’d find you when you were cooking, pressing his lips to your cheek or the top of your head without saying a word. It was nothing intense, just a subtle way that he made sure you were real.

“Si? You okay?” The weight of Ghost hugging you from behind made your heart warm, and you put down the wooden spoon you were holding.

“Yeah.” A kiss to your temple. “M’okay now.”

Marking you up with hickeys that even one of your oversized hoodies couldn’t cover was his way of maintaining your relationship, and knowing you had a visible memento of his claim on you every time you looked in the mirror helped him feel a little more secure.

And then there were the fervent kisses.

Lips colliding in the dim, warm light of your bedroom, Simon’s large hands holding your hips down as he kept you on his lap. He’d swallow every sound you made, knowing he had to leave in the morning. Not being able to see you for months, or even longer, spurred him with the urge to leave you with a lasting memory. He could have you forget him when he was gone.

It didn’t matter if you were tired, he’d force you down onto the bed, drawing mewls and gasps from your lips as he tried to memorize every detail of your body before he went off on his next mission. Latching his lips to the inside of your thighs, he’d suck hard enough to leave a hickey that would take weeks to fade.

“Not gonna leave ya.” He’d echo, kissing your clit like it would offer some form of protection for wherever he was being sent to.

“Gonna keep you all t’myself.” His soft lips would kiss at your even softer cunt, devouring every twitch and shudder that went through you. “Si. Si, I can’t-”

It didn’t matter if you’d been up all night, trapped under the weight of his hands while he ate you without faltering. “You can take it. C’mon, dovie, be a good girl an’ give me one more.” He wouldn’t stop until you were limp on the sheets and he was nose deep in your pussy, permanently engraving his name on your clit with his tongue.

And when he left in the morning, he left knowing your lips were sore.

[luvvyouforever]

saw your post about declan x reader x rupert and i can't stop thinking about them in their slutty little venturer tshirts ugh need to be sandwiched between them while they're bickering over who can make you feel better

ughhh the slutty venturer t-shirts! just for you anon <3

challengers - declan o'hara x reader x rupert campbell-black

synopsis: rupert believes he can make you feel better. declan disagrees and thinks he can. there's only one way to find out.

content: threesome (kinda?), afab reader, no m/m, rupert's got a thing for legs, no maud au so there's no infidelity, oral sex, handjob kinda, hickeys, praise, squirting

word count: 3k oops

author's note: this fic has been sitting in the drafts for a whileeeeeee. like before season 2 was even confirmed. enjoy! (ps i haven't watched challengers i just thought the title was fitting)

you think that maybe rupert and declan have forgotten about you sandwiched between them, but perhaps there were worse places to be than leaned against a doorframe, the heady scents of their cologne filling your nose.

"i just find it interesting that every time i come to look for our dear y/n, she's always right by your side, hmm?" rupert's posh accent echoed above you, his chest puffed.

"have you thought that she just prefers my company to yours, rupert?" declan's thick accent was so different to rupert's, but they mingled so well together. you briefly wondered how long you could still there still and quiet until they acknowledge your existence again.

"considering you're tipsy half of the day, i have reason to doubt that."

you would be standing there quietly for a long time.

it was painfully obvious to everyone, not just you, that rupert and declan harboured crushes for you. it had started when freddie managed to poach you from corinium to come work for venturer instead, and small gazes as you left turned into something you weren't even sure how to handle.

"you guys do know i'm standing here still...right?" you managed to slip out between the incessant firing off of insults.

their heads turned downwards, eyes meeting your own.

"of course, doll," declan said at the same time as rupert's, "could never forget you, sweetheart." they glared at each other, then returned to their attention to you.

it was a bit overwhelming, sure, but you held firm in your resolve to attempt to solve this issue. "i thought i could just let you both fight till you came up with a solution, but the plan has not worked evidently. and a girl can only take so much lustful staring and touches on the knee before she need something."

"i'm sorry if declan's made you uncomfortable, love," rupert said slyly, hand softly grazing your upper arm.

declan immediately lost the control he was exerting and faced rupert again with a loud scoff. "i'm making her uncomfortable? if anything, you are! who'd want a man that's slept with half the countryside giving her fuck-me-eyes?"

rupert couldn't help himself. "who'd want a man that hasn't slept with anyone in months giving her fuck-me-eyes?"

"oh, i'm sure i could make her feel much better than you ever could. just cause you're easy doesn't mean you're good."

with every word spat at each other, their shoulders squared and jaws clenched. if you didn't know any better, you'd keep watching the way their t-shirts flexed against their skin, swooning at the knowledge that it was you they were fighting over. but you had to do something.

it seemed crazy the second it popped into your brain. like something from one of those erotica books lizzie wrote. but the way rupert and declan were so naturally competitive, it might be the only way to solve this before they irreparably damaged the friendship they'd been building through venturer.

first you tried to clear your throat loudly which didn't work. they continued to mumble about their respective skills. then you tried saying their names. didn't work either. finally, with a huff of pure frustration, you grabbed each of them by the collars of their t-shirts and drug them further inside declan's home, effectively shutting the door behind you with your foot.

"jesus christ, you're like toddlers," you near-shouted. "you'd think a teacher told you that you have to share the toy the way you're arguing with each other. we have to solve this one way or another." you paused for a beat, letting the two men gather their composure. declan leaned against the kitchen counter, while rupert stood with his arms crossed. "i want you to listen to every word i have to say without speaking, okay? and when i am done, you are allowed to give me a response."

you waited for them to nod and once they did, you continued speaking.

"in full honesty, i can't choose between the two of you. you're both handsome and intelligent and i've enjoyed getting to know you. but i know you can't share. that would never work with the way you both square off like gorillas in a jungle," you said. your next words needed to be chose carefully. "however, i can't make a decision without test driving. so, we can settle this like adults in declan's bedroom, or i will walk out the door and forget that i ever found the two of you attractive in the first place."

true to their word, neither of them spoke until you gestured that you were done. declan was the first to speak up. "how long have you found me attractive, huh?"

"good lord," rupert whispered to himself, though both you and declan heard it clearly. "so when you mean settle this like adults..." he trailed off, posing a question for you to respond to.

"d'ya need her to spell it out for you?" declan asked, shoving himself off the kitchen counter. he sauntered towards you and his scent flooded your senses once again. his hand came to your lower back, dipping down just enough to graze your ass. "she wants us to prove which of us is better."

you let out a soft gasp, followed by a bite of your lip when his hand lifted then came back down on your ass, more harsh than a love tap, but clearly not as rough as he'd like to go.

declan chuckled. "think i'm already ahead of you."

"jesus, get in the bedroom already," rupert said, coming up behind you and replacing declan's hand with his own, pushing you towards the stairs.

the next few moments were a blur. before you knew it, your figure was posed on the middle of declan's bed, with declan and rupert waiting patiently at the foot.

"are there rules?" rupert asked.

you thought for a second. it was an impulsive plan, one you hadn't put much thought into. you shook your head. "nope. want you both to show me just how good you are since you're talking all that game."

declan and rupert looked at each other perhaps the most amiably the whole entire evening. while it was a competition, they seemed to have a silent agreement that your world would be forever changed after this.

declan moved first, his eyes already lowered and darkened with desire. having this view of you in his bed was driving him mad, pushing him to do that much better so he could always see you sprawled on the flannel sheets that smelled like him.

"can i take this off of you, love?" he asked quietly, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. you met his dark brown eyes and nodded, biting your lip as his hands deftly removed the fabric. you could hear the hitch in both his and rupert's breathing.

suddenly, rupert's frame was on your other side, fingers barely touching the skin on your side. "you're so beautiful," he said. though declan made the initial move, rupert took it one step further and brought his head down to offer you a sweet kiss on the lips. declan could've growled, but he knew you wanted to end the fighting. he had to just find his own way to touch you.

as rupert continued to expertly move his lips against yours, declan's own mouth met your neck and upper chest. he left hot, open-mouthed kisses on your delicate skin and you whimpered into rupert's mouth.

declan continued his ministrations as rupert pulled away and tugged off his venturer t-shirt, revealing his toned, tan body underneath. he then slid his belt from around his waist and threw it down onto declan's carpet. he took a few seconds to figure out his next plan of action and when he saw just how enamoured you were with declan's kisses, he opted for the same strategy.

rupert leaned down and started trailing his lips along your stomach, up to the edge of your bra, around the seam, then back down again. he was careful not to invade declan's space while also losing himself in the way your noises reverberated in his ears.

declan, too, rose from kneeling and took off his own shirt. you managed to open your eyes and the sight before you could've sent you reeling immediately. rupert was toned and muscular while declan was broad and, for the lack of a better word, big. in that moment, you considered yourself the luckiest girl on the planet.

your hands flew to declan as he leant back down, fingers roaming the broad expanse of his chest. desperate to have him kiss you on the lips this time, you moved your hand to his chin and tugged him towards you. he picked up the message easily and moved his lips against yours eagerly.

so far, you distinguished that declan and rupert had two distinct styles. declan was desperate and eager and ready to take you as his own. his kisses were passionate and you could tell from his touches that he was exerting a lot of restraint. rupert, on the other hand, was more calculated. his kisses started delicate, like he was teasing you, drawing you in, making you crave more. it would be a harder decision than you thought.

once he was satisfied with the trail of kisses along your body, rupert ducked down, fingers teasing the band of your pants. you looked up at you, somehow meeting your eyes past declan's head, and asked a silent question. you nodded as best as you could, then turned back to declan. as rupert's hands tugged down your pants, revealing your bare legs, your fingers tangled in declan's curls.

you had become so lost in declan's overpowering kiss that you let out a sudden gasp when rupert's mouth met your thighs. you could feel his breath against your legs, hands squeezing your flesh. you realized his weakness then as he groaned with every inch his mouth met.

eventually, you pulled away from declan, desperate for breath. he looked at you with a powerful look, one that you could hardly tear away from. you did, though, and gestured to his pants. "don't leave me alone here," you whispered. he smirked and stood to undo his belt, then tug his pants off.

as if his arousal was not already evident, the bulge barely concealed by his boxers revealed it tenfold. your eyes roamed his body and with a smirk, your hand reached out to his core. at the sudden contact, he groaned, no, growled.

you let out your own noise of surprise at rupert's hands meeting your own middle. your eyes flew to his and he met them confidently with his own smirk.

"she's so wet for us," rupert said, drawing declan's attention towards your center. both of their eyes didn't leave your face as declan's hand reached out to feel for himself.

"absolutely soaking, doll," he added.

"please," you pleaded, though you weren't sure what you were asking for.

"what do you need, love?" rupert asked sweetly. his fingers replaced declan's and they teased past the hem of your panties.

"what would you like us to show you?" declan asked. it was evil, the way they seemed to suddenly team up with the purpose of torturing you. it was as if every ounce of their fighting left once your body was available to them.

"y-your mouth, please," you squeaked out, cheeks flushed both from embarrassment and pure heat. "you first," you added, gesturing to declan.

"don't mind if i do, pretty girl," he said, moving to situate himself between your legs. rupert went to move, but he couldn't help himself but watch as declan slowly removed your panties. "fucking gorgeous."

rupert moved to your side again, one of his arms propping up his body by yours, the other snaking around and entangling his fingers in your hair. he came in close and you could smell the spearmint on his breath from the gum he chewed. "i don't think i could ever tell you enough how beautiful you are," he whispered.

had it not been for declan's mouth being dangerously close to your pussy, you would've reeled at his romantic words. you hoped that your shining eyes would convey your appreciation enough. he seemed to have gotten the message and smiled as his hands moved to wrap around your back and undo your bra.

once you were fully bare before them, rupert offered the same vulnerability, moving upwards to take his pants and boxers down.

"fuck," you choked out, both at the sight before you and at declan's tongue licking a long stripe up your core.

rupert smiled and returned to your side again. "like what you see?" he asked, fingers curling under your chin. you nodded enthusiastically, as it became difficult to form words from declan's ministrations between your legs. you couldn't do much else but reach towards rupert's body, hands exploring the muscular build of his chest and shoulders and torso and everywhere. he offered the same, soft hands teasing up your sides and breasts.

declan's mouth was beginning to draw you close to the edge. he was close to making out with your pussy, and you were positive both he and you were soaked. despite the slight burn coming from his thick mustache, your back arched from the bed ever so slightly, offering rupert more surface to explore.

everything came crashing on you all at once, though, as declan's finger slowly entered you, curling up to the spot that made you shut your eyes so tight you saw swirls of color. to add to the torture, rupert's mouth had wrapped around your nipple, tongue teasing and slow.

"fuck!" you shouted. "s-so good. so good, declan." your praise egged him on further and he added a second finger. his tongue didn't let up until your thighs squeezed around his head and you came around his fingers with barely intelligible groans of his name.

reluctantly, he pulled away, leaving your hole clenching around nothing. you were correct about him being soaked. he was a vision of pure sin, nothing else. it had to have been one of the sexiest sights you'd ever see in your life.

"think you can do better than that?" declan asked.

rupert released his mouth with a pop and smirked. "of course i can." ever the gentleman, though, he looked at you first. "ready for me now, love?"

despite your better judgement telling you to breathe first, you nodded eagerly. they switched spots then, declan moving to your side. before he got comfortable, though, he stripped off his own boxers. you whimpered. how could you have possibly gotten this lucky?

rupert situated himself between your thighs and instead of diving in immediately like declan, he teased you with his fingers first. it was torturous, but so methodical, like he wanted to play you like an instrument. for a second, you watched him with lust blown eyes, before averting your attention to declan's hard cock just before you.

you felt greedy receiving all the pleasure from the two men. you looked at declan with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster and he chuckled lightly at your pleading. he inched closer, getting comfortable at your side.

"all yours, darling," he said quietly. you bit your lip and outstretched your hand. declan groaned as your skin met his and he was sure that he had never been so needy for someone before.

rupert's mouth finally fully latched on to your clit and you gasped instantly. your hand continued to stroke declan and he leant down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. his breath tickled your ear and his moans were like music. down below you, rupert's mouth worked expertly on your pussy, which was an entirely different sensation than declan's sloppy, but deliciously overwhelming mouth.

your thighs squeezed around his head, but it only made him that much more eager to please you. his tongue moved up and down, then teased your entrance. your stomach squeezed with the feeling of another orgasm coming on quickly.

"fuck, rupert. please keep going," you moaned out, arching your hips into his face further.

declan could feel himself getting closer too, but he didn't want to finish then and spend time gaining back his energy. he gained the strength to pull your hand away from him and offered a sweet kiss to your palm instead. he craned his neck down to place more kisses on your neck, and once he found a spot that seemed to draw an extra whimper from you, he bit down and sucked.

your moans were surely loud enough to hear across the countryside. it didn't matter though with the way declan and rupert were lavishing endless attention on you. it was the best you were sure you had ever felt. that knot in your stomach only grew tighter and you weren't going to last long.

rupert wasn't letting up, though. in fact, he copied declan's move and slipped two fingers in, curling them upwards over and over. with every pull, that knot tightened and tightened. if he didn't pull away, you were sure you'd pass out. he didn't though.

declan's mouth continued to leave hickeys down your neck and suddenly, waves of pleasure overtook every part of your senses. before you knew it, rupert's chest and torso were soaked.

"had to be such an overachiever and make her squirt?" declan asked, releasing from your neck with a harsh bite. you were breathing heavily, attempting to come down from the intense high you had been feeling. declan and rupert bickered quietly, before realizing that your head had lulled against the pillow.

"seems like i won that one, huh?" rupert asked, moving up the bed again to caress the hairs that had stuck along your forehead.

"oh, please," declan said. his large palm met your cheek and you looked at him with eyes that made him fall only deeper for you. "we haven't even fucked the pretty girl yet."