#i always feel like is she so much better than me

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 1

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: I am still dizzy her and there but feeling a bit better.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You wouldn’t call it doom scrolling. That’s not what this is. You try not to search out the depressing headlines or the studies of the human character assuring you of your race’s inherent flaws. Yet, all those boastful posts about engagements, weddings, and promotions still make you feel crummy. 

Jealous? Sure. You don’t have any of those things and it isn’t as if you can hope for as much, either. You’re in a dead-end job, living in cramped apartment with your sister and her irresponsible friend, and your romantic life is next to non-existent; not that you’ve been looking. None of that is meant for you, otherwise, you’d have had some glimmer of interest by now. 

It’s like quicksand. Not very quick but it pulls you down lower and lower. Sinking and sinking until all you can see is the muck. There’s no way out now, you’re waist deep in it. 

You click under your favourite communities and start a new post. You don’t make many. Mostly you read and judge silently. You’re a lurker. Like in many facets of your life. You watch, you don’t do. But you’ve had a shitty day and you need to just let it out. 

Your fingers move as your thoughts boil in your head; your nagging manager, your lazy landlord, and your immature roommates. Nothing ever goes your way. Everyone else has it figured out and you’re just left to rot. You try! You do. Resumes, profiles on friendship apps, online courses; free, of course, it’s all you can afford, but you do try to improve yourself. It just doesn’t work. 

You hit ‘post’ and close the lid of your ancient laptop. It’s as thick as a book. The battery doesn’t hold a charge and the fan is as loud as a jet. You fall back onto your bed and look around your tiny room. That’s all you have. This space is as much as you can call your own and not really. You rent it, it can be taken away with one of those red stamped notices. 

You yawn and drag yourself up. A whole shift and you didn’t bother to have more than the bland break room coffee spewed from the off-brand pod machine and a couple sticks of gum. Tia got herself sushi before her shift but she can just ask her parents to send her money to cover her Door Dash addiction. 

You plod out to the kitchen. Your sister closes the fridge and cracks the tab of a beer can. You’re sure it isn’t her first.  

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Shea bobbles her head. 

Funny since Donna pretty much hollered at you for interrupting her TV show. You all pitched in on the flat screen yet it’s never your turn with it. You shrug and go to the cupboard. It’s not sushi but the spicy shrimp ramen isn’t too bad... 

“You work?” You ask. 

“Pfft, no. Didn’t I say I was going to lunch with Mason?” 

“Did you?” You take down at bowl. She probably did. You never remember. She’s always got a date or a party or a fall back. If she can’t make rent, she’ll smile a cute guy and get some money. 

“He bought me some shoes! You’ll never believe.” 

“Right,” you try not to seethe. 

You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. You’re eating sodium-laced noodles and holding back tears against old people wanting to print out their life story from a corrupt PDF. She’s pretty. She doesn’t have to try. Shea is all the proof you need that some people are just lucky. 

You put the electric kettle onto boil and the smell of burnt—something makes your lip curl. You pop the lid and look inside. It’s brown. What the hell? 

“What’s wrong with this?” You ask as you flip off the switch. 

“Donna!” Shea yells, “what did you do to the kettle?” No answer. Your sister hollers again. 

A door swings open and Donna stomps out with a huff. Her face is green as she has a mask spread over it and eye masks pasted beneath her lashes. 

“I’m getting ready--” 

“The kettle stinks,” you reach for a pot and find none. They’re all stacked and waiting to be washed. You snatch one off the top and flip on the faucet. 

“Oh, I heated up some bone broth in it. I’m doing a cleanse,” she smirks. “Tasted kinda weird.” 

“Bone broth?” You scoff. See. You try, they can’t even clean dishes. “Great.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine, just rinse it out,” Shea says. 

You scrub the pan and ignore her. You glance up as she slurps noisily from the can. Pre-drinks. Her and Donna are going out. Again. They can afford to because they don’t buy their own drinks. They don’t need to. You went out with them once and paid for all of your own, even though you’d have been happy enough with a single round. 

“Have fun,” you dry out the pan and slam it on the burner. 

“Jeez, maybe you should loosen up?” Donna chides. 

“Yeah, come with us. Dance it out,” Shea drawls. 

“No thanks,” you twist the knob and light the burner. “I have work tomorrow.” 

“Call innnnn,” Shea insists. 

“I can’t,” you sniff and step back to wait for the water to boil. 

“Boring,” she chirps. 

“Yep, I am,” you cross your arms. Your annoyed. When the go out, you’ll have to clean up this mess. You can’t handle another bout of fruit flies. 

You put the noodles in and let them soften. You stir in the oil and powder then retreat to your room with the bowl of boiling cholesterol. You let it cool and put a video on your phone. You don’t want to think. 

You eat deliberately. You savour the processed flavouring. You can’t go out sneak a midnight snack; Donna ate all your cookies. You label all your stuff in thick marker and she apparently can’t read. 

You hear them leave. They’re loud. They leave the television on. At high volume. 

You go out and shut it off. You need to sleep soon. Opening always comes after a late shift. Otherwise, how else would the corporation keep you disempowered. 

You open your laptop. You’ll but on some lo-fi while you charge your phone. Heck, the fan is like white noise on its own. 

The little red number at the bottom of the page stops you. You left the browser open. Someone actually responded to your post. You click and your stomach drops as you read the first sentence. 

‘Sounds like you cause a lot of your own problems. Maybe try some mindful exercises and get out more. You should also consider making some friends.’ 

You read it over and over. You’re angry. Hurt, too. But most that first thing. You can’t stop from replying. 

‘You got all that from me venting? I wasn’t asking for advice. I walk to and from work and I have friends.’ 

It’s mostly true. You do walk. Most days. And your sister is a friend, isn’t she? By association, so is Donna. 

Before you can look up your favourite twelve-hour lo-fi, another notification pops up. 

‘Looking at your post history, your diet could use some improvements. More veggies. And walking is a good starting point but you need to increase your endorphins. I’d be happy to send you some helpful guides. They’re easily searchable on the internet. We live in the age of information, you should consider taking advantage of that.’ 

Wow, what an asshole. He’s smug and obviously better than you. You click on his username and scroll through. Just as you expect. He posts in fitness communities. Not any videos of him but sharing tutorials and recipes for high-protein smoothies and fibre-laced juices. He wouldn’t know flavour if it puked in his mouth. 

You his ‘esc’ and go back to your own post; ‘thanks for the advice. Have a good one.; 

That’s it. You’re not arguing with some faceless douche on the internet. His response is as quick as the first. 

‘A helpful link.’ He hyperlinks the words. ‘You should at least stretch in the morning and go outside on your breaks at work. You might work long shifts but it’s no excuse to be lazy. If you’ve been in that role for so long, you should have more than enough references to move on to something that doesn’t make you miserable.’ 

You don’t answer. You know if you do, you’ll just embarrass yourself. Judging by the few pics of his real life and his cadence, he’s got everything. He just thinks it’s a matter of mindset. There can’t possibly be anything else which could make things more difficult for people. You just don’t work hard enough. Duh, everyone always says so. 

You close out of the page. If he replies again, you’ll block him. Simple as. You put on a lo-fi track and dim the screen. You roll over and tuck into bed. You fall asleep in a ball of stress; you have to wake up, shower, do all that human stuff, then make yourself face another eight hours of hell. 

⭐

“I hate working at the fucking copy desk,” you hiss as you take your bag from the cubby in the break room. “Good luck.” 

Darcy gives you a look as she sits at one of the tables, waiting for her shift to start. You grit your teeth as you should your purse and grip your jacket tight. You punch your employee number into the clock then head out. 

As you march down the aisle of toner, a customer tries to stop you. “I’m off duty.” 

“But I need a keyboard.” 

You ignore them and keep going. 

“I’m going to tell a manager, young lady!” 

You don’t care. Besides, why are they looking for a keyboard in the toner aisle. The signs above with the giant letters clearly show that the computer accessories are in the opposite corner. 

People are stupid. They might be able to read, technically, but they definitely lack comprehension. Just like Donna who can’t keep her hands off your snacks. 

You walk home in a simmer. If you let your temper get away from you, you won’t be able to hold back when you walk into the inevitable shit show waiting for you at home. Shea and Donna hungover, probably having got into more of your sparse groceries, and amidst a brand new mess for you to tidy. You won’t not this time. 

You have a mission. Go to your room and don’t come out. 

As you enter your building, you find the elevator non-responsive. A tiny post-it is stuck to the doors. ‘Out of Order’. Couldn’t have made something a bit more legible? 

You take the stairs. The hallway smells like onion and dirty clothes. You take out your keys as you get to your door, ignoring the rabble coming from the apartment next to yours. Before you can get your key in the slot, the door opens. 

“Heyyyy, she’s back,” Shea greets. You blink at her in confusion. Is she already drunk again? 

“Starting already?” You ask as you try to get past her. 

“Hm, no,” she says tritely, “you have a guest.” 

You roll your eyes, “don’t be a bitch, alright?” 

“No, really,” she grins. You stop and look her up and down. She isn’t falling apart like usual after a Friday night. Her hair is done, her makeup too, and she’s not in her sweats.  

“Is it mom?” You whisper. 

She snorts, “you’re stupid. No, it’s your friend. Steve.” She backs up with a shimmy, “I think some people call him Captain.” 

You make a face. What? 

“Who...” 

“Ahem,” a figure appears by the corner of the kitchen counter, “I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

You crane to see over Shea’s shoulder. The man behind her is tall. And familiar. Steve Rogers. Your expression contorts as your lashes flutter in confusion. 

“Not at all, Stevie,” Shea spins, “I’ll give you two the room. So nice to meet you.” 

She squeezes by him and touches his forearm as she does. He doesn’t react. She giggles and flits off. Her door shuts but you can tell that the latch didn’t catch. She’s listening. 

“Should we go outside? Get some sun?” He asks. 

You glance at him again. You’re lost. 

“Do I know you?” You grimace. 

“After all day under fluorescent, you should really get out--” 

“I-- I’m sorry, can you slow down and explain--” 

“Outside. Privately,” he says. 

You peek past him then look into the hallway behind you. You search your mind for an explanation. The only place you know him from is the internet or a history book. 

“Like I said before, going outside can really help with mood issues.” 

You hesitate and your mouth falls open. It can’t be... 

“Was that you? Last night?” You shake your head. 

“How about I buy you a smoothie?” He offers. 

You snap your mouth shut. He can’t be serious. This can’t be real. 

[moonlightwritingf1]

Back to You | LN4

💥 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, heartbroken after Lando vanished nine months ago, sees a tabloid photo of him with another woman. Determined for answers, she flies to Monaco. Their confrontation turns heated, months of tension igniting into passion. As anger and desire blur, they realize they still want each other

💥 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

💥 word count ━━━━━━━ 6.6k

💥 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex

Based on this request.

Y/N sat alone in her apartment, the twilight sky outside mirroring the quiet desolation inside. The low hum of the bustling city seeped through the large windows—a constant reminder that life was moving on outside, even if her own world had come to a standstill. Every familiar sound—the distant rumble of traffic, the soft murmur of pedestrians, even the clink of glasses from a nearby rooftop bar—seemed to mock the heavy silence of her phone. For nine long months, ever since the argument that had shattered what little connection they once shared, Lando had vanished without a trace.

Her heart ached with each morning that began the same way: with her eyes opening to a screen filled with unanswered messages and missed calls, a relentless echo of his absence. She found herself mechanically scrolling through old photos on her phone—captured moments of laughter, shared secrets, and the tender surprises he’d sent her. Each image was a bittersweet reminder of a time when his presence had been a balm to her insecurities, when his gestures of gifting exquisite perfumes and designer handbags made her feel seen. Now, every memory only deepened the question that tormented her:

Was I ever enough?

She recalled his words, once so full of promise: “You’re incredible, Y/N. There’s something about you I can’t explain.” That text, once a spark of hope, now felt like a relic from a life that had slipped irretrievably away—a promise broken by months of silence. The very thought made her eyes sting with unshed tears and her chest tighten with a mix of sorrow and anger.

Just as she was about to sink deeper into despair, her phone vibrated—a sharp, unexpected buzz that sliced through the stillness. The notification was from a mutual friend, and the message appeared with an almost aggressive urgency:

Friend: “Hey, have you seen the tabloids? Lando was snapped outside a club last night in Monaco with a girl. They’re saying she was with him as he left.”

The words hit her like a cold splash of water. Her stomach churned, and a bitter taste spread across her tongue. The image of Lando—whose eyes had always held a spark just for her, even amidst the glitter of glamorous company—transformed in her mind into something unrecognizable and distant. So this is how you treat me? she thought bitterly. Ghost me for months, and then let a rumor paint you as nothing more than an option.

Her mind reeled with memories of their past—the whispered promises during quiet evenings, the extravagant gifts that had arrived like tokens of an unspoken devotion, the way he had looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. Yet here she was, feeling discarded and small—a solitary soul amidst a sprawling metropolis that had once held so much promise.

The room felt colder, the familiar surroundings now tinted with the sharp edge of betrayal. Every object in her apartment—the well-worn armchair by the window, the stack of books on her coffee table, even the gentle hum of the air conditioning—seemed to conspire with the silence of her phone, reminding her of the void Lando had left behind.

A surge of determination began to kindle within her, battling the despair that threatened to overwhelm her. I deserve better than this endless waiting, she resolved, her voice barely above a whisper. The sting of betrayal was too raw, too painful to let fester in isolation. She needed answers, a chance to reclaim her dignity, and perhaps—most of all—a way to understand why the man who had once made her feel like the center of the universe had chosen silence over solace.

Her thoughts churned as she considered her next move. Confrontation was daunting, yet the idea of sitting in perpetual uncertainty was unbearable. With a mix of trepidation and fierce resolve, she decided that the only way to mend the fractured pieces of her heart was to face him directly. Without a second thought, she booked a flight to Monaco—a place that now symbolized both his presence and her desperate need for closure.

As she closed the door behind her that evening, leaving the familiar comfort of her apartment, every step she took was laden with a heavy mix of sorrow, anger, and a spark of hope. The bustling city around her might have been indifferent to her inner turmoil, but within her burned a singular determination: to shatter the barrier of silence that had grown between them and to confront the man who had left her questioning her very worth.

—

The air in Lando’s apartment in Monaco was heavy with tension, the kind that could only come from weeks of silence and unanswered texts. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her breathing shallow but steady. She had flown from London on a whim, driven by a mix of anger, hurt, and something she couldn’t quite name. That something had brought her here, to his doorstep, uninvited but unyielding.

Lando leaned against the kitchen counter, his expression unreadable. He wore a black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and his hair was a mess, like he hadn’t bothered to style it all week. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and warmth, were cold now, distant.

“You can’t just show up here, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and clipped.

She laughed, but it was hollow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have sent you a text? Oh wait, you’ve been ignoring those for months.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Y/N’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She had replayed their last argument in her head a hundred times, each time feeling the sting of his words cutting deeper.

“You’re acting like a child,” she said finally, her voice shaking. “Ghosting me? Really? Is that how you handle things now?”

Lando’s eyes flicked up to hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I didn’t ghost you,” he said, his voice flat. “I just needed space.”

“Space?” she repeated, incredulous. “You mean you needed to go out clubbing with some random girl while I was left wondering if I’d done something wrong?”

His expression darkened. “That wasn’t what it looked like. I wasn’t with her. She just happened to be—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “I don’t care about the details, Lando. I care about the fact that you couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me. You just disappeared.”

He pushed off the counter and took a step toward her, his voice rising. “You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted to walk away? You’re so damn stubborn, Y/N. You push people away, and then you act surprised when they leave.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. His words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she felt the familiar ache of insecurity creeping in.

“I don’t push people away,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, you do,” he shot back, his voice softening. “You keep everyone at arm’s length because you’re scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of being vulnerable. But guess what? I’m scared too.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “Scared of what?”

“Scared of losing you,” he admitted, his voice low and raw, his hands dropping from her face to hang at his sides. “But it’s more than that. That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I care about you—more than anyone else. But sometimes, I felt pressured to prove that I could have you. And I...I got scared.”

His words burned through her, their weight pressing against her chest. Her jaw tightened, her emotions twisting into something sharp and defensive. “You felt pressured? To prove what? That you’re worthy? Or that I’m just another conquest?” 

He stepped back, his face hardening. “You know that’s not what I’m saying.” “Do I?” Her voice cracked, anger and hurt colliding in a storm that threatened to spill over. “Because that’s what it sounds like. That’s always what it sounds like with you. Like I’m just some prize you’re trying to win.” 

“Stop twisting my words,” he shot back, his voice rising. “You’re not a prize. You’re not something to be won. But you keep pushing me away, acting like I’m some shallow, unfeeling idiot who doesn’t know what he wants. And it...it pisses me off.”

Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. “I’m scared too, Lando. I’m scared that I’m not enough, that I’m just the girl no one truly wants. I see the echoes of your past—the women you once admired so freely—and I can’t help but wonder if I’m merely another fleeting distraction in your life.”

His eyes darkened, and he took a step forward, his tone simmering with frustration. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re not a distraction. You’re not some temporary fling. God, Y/N, how many times do I have to say it before you believe me? Before you stop comparing yourself to people who don’t matter?”

“Don’t matter?” she snapped, her voice trembling with fury. “How can they not matter when they’re a part of you? When I see their faces every time I close my eyes, wondering if that’s what you really want? Wondering if you’re just settling for me because I’m the one who said no?”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. You think I’m here, now, because you said no? That’s what you think? That I’m just some egomaniac who couldn’t stand the idea of a woman rejecting him?”

“I don’t know what to think!” she shouted, her hands flying up in frustration. “Because you’ve never made it clear! You’ve never given me a reason to trust that this is real!”

“I’ve tried!” he roared, stepping closer, his chest heaving. “I’ve tried everything to show you how I feel, and all you do is shut me out. You don’t let me in. You don’t let me love you!”

She stared at him, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts, her heart pounding so loudly it felt like it would break free from her chest. “Maybe I don’t deserve to be loved.” 

“Shut up,” he growled, his voice rough and desperate. He closed the distance between them, his hands grabbing her face with a force that sent her head tilting back. And then his lips were on hers, hard and demanding, a storm of anger and longing tangled in one desperate gesture.

For a split second, she froze, her mind screaming at her to pull away, to push him back, to protect herself. But then something inside her snapped, and she kissed him back with a ferocity that matched his own. Her hands fisted in his hoodie, pulling him closer as the fight dissolved into something far more primal.

Their lips moved in a chaotic rhythm, anger and passion combusting into something undeniable. His hands slid from her face to her waist, gripping her so tightly she stumbled backward, her back hitting the wall with a soft thud. He pressed into her, his body pinning hers, the heat between them unbearable.

“You’re not a distraction,” he murmured against her lips, his voice fierce and unyielding. “You’re the only damn thing I’ve wanted in months.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. All she could do was kiss him again, her hands clawing at the fabric of his hoodie as if she could tear it away. The anger, the fear, the doubt—it all melted into the heat of his body against hers, the truth they’d both been too scared to admit finally breaking free.

And in that moment, she stopped fighting. Against him. Against herself. Against whatever this was that had always terrified her. Because maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to be alone anymore.

Their lips crashed together again, hungry and desperate, a tangle of anger and need. His hands were everywhere—her hips, her waist, her back—pulling her closer, tighter, as if he could erase the distance that had grown between them. She clawed at his hoodie, her nails digging into the fabric, her voice breaking as she gasped against his mouth, “Take this off. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. In one swift motion, he pulled the hoodie over his head and tossed it aside, his chest heaving as he stared down at her, his eyes dark with a mix of rage and desire. “Happy?” he growled, his voice rough.

“No,” she shot back, her hands immediately finding their way to his bare skin, her fingers tracing the muscles of his back as she pulled him back into the kiss. Her lips were demanding, bruising, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip in a way that made him groan.

He lifted her effortlessly, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs as he carried her to the sofa, their lips never parting. The moment her back hit the cushions, he was on her, his body pressing into hers, his hands roaming wildly as if he were trying to memorize every inch of her.

“I’ve missed you,” he muttered against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “Every moment without you was torture.”

“Don’t,” she whispered, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she tried to push him away, but her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” he demanded, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her top, his movements hurried and impatient. “Because you don’t want to hear it? Or because you don’t believe me?”

She didn’t answer, her breath hitching as he finally managed to get her top off, his hands moving to her bra. He undid the clasp with ease, tossing it aside before his mouth descended on her breasts, his tongue flicking over her nipple in a way that made her cry out.

“I’ve craved your kiss in my darkest moments,” he murmured against her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. “I’ve been longing for your touch.”

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer even as she tried to push him away, her body a contradiction of anger and need. “Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “This doesn’t fix anything.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his lips trailing up her neck to capture hers once more. “But it’s a damn good start.”

His hands slid down her body, undoing the button of her jeans and sliding them off her hips along with her panties. She kicked them aside, her legs wrapping around his waist as he moved between them, his own jeans and boxers discarded in a heap on the floor.

When he finally entered her, it was with a deep, urgent thrust that made her moan, her nails digging into his back. He paused for a moment, his breath ragged as he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers. “I’ve missed feeling your pussy wrapped around my cock,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Her body tightened around him, a visceral reaction to the way his cock stretched her, filling her completely, dragging against every sensitive nerve she had. The friction was electric, his thickness pressing so deep it felt like he was stealing the air from her lungs. His thrusts were relentless, hard and furious, the kind that made her bones rattle and her mind go blank. Each time he pushed into her, his hips slammed against hers, the force of it sending shockwaves through her body. She could feel the anger in his movements, the pent-up frustration of weeks without her driving him to fuck her with a ferocity that bordered on savage.

Her walls clenched around him, slick and tight, her body betraying her mind as it welcomed the invasion. The pleasure was unbearable, every stroke of his cock inside her sending her closer to the edge. She hated how good it felt, how much her body craved him even as her mind screamed at her to resist. “I hate you for this,” she gasped, her voice trembling, her nails digging into his back hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks. “You don’t get to just— fuck your way back into my life.”

“Yes, I do,” he growled against her ear, his breath hot and ragged. He hooked his hands under her thighs, lifting her hips higher, angling himself so he could plunge even deeper. The tip of his cock brushed against that spot inside her that made her vision blur, her breath hitching in her throat. “You’re mine, Y/N. No matter how much you want to deny it, your body knows it. I can feel it—how wet you are for me, how fucking perfect you are.”

She hated how right he was. She hated the way her pussy clung to him, pulsing around his cock as if it had been made for him. The stretch of him, the way he filled her so completely, it was maddening. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as it slid in and out of her, the friction sending sparks of pleasure ricocheting through her body. Her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, the rhythm wild and unhinged, her body moving on instinct, chasing the release she so desperately needed.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. His hands tightened on her hips, keeping her in place as he drove into her again, the slap of their skin echoing in the room. She opened her eyes to meet his, and the intensity in his gaze made her stomach clench. “I’ve missed this. Missed you. Every goddamn second without you, I’ve wanted to be inside you, to feel you come around me.”

Her breath caught, her heart pounding as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. “I hate you,” she whispered again, but it was weak, half-hearted, her body betraying her words as she arched into him, her walls fluttering around his cock. “I hate that I need you.”

“Say it again,” he urged, his lips brushing against hers, his thrusts slowing slightly, becoming deeper, more deliberate. The tip of his cock pressed against that spot inside her again, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Say you hate me.”

“I hate you,” she said, her voice breaking as the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her, her body clenching around him so hard it was almost painful. Her head fell back, her back arching as she came, her pussy pulsing around his cock, pulling him deeper.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice ragged with need. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful when you fall apart for me. So fucking perfect.” His thrusts became erratic, harder, his hips slamming into hers as he chased his own release. “I’ve missed feeling you come around me. Missed the way you squeeze my cock like you never want to let go.”

She could feel it—the way his body tensed, the way his cock pulsed inside her, thick and heavy, as if it were demanding every drop of her attention. His rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming shallow and uncoordinated, and then he was there, right on the edge. His hips jerked forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go, and she felt the first hot surge of his release flooding her, filling her in a way that made her toes curl.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his voice guttural, almost animalistic, as his cock twitched and spilled inside her. She could feel every pulse, every jet of his cum, hot and insistent, coating her walls. His forehead pressed against hers, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. His hands, which had been gripping her hips so tightly she was sure she’d have bruises, now trembled against her skin as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm.

“Y/N,” he whispered, her name sounding broken on his lips, like a prayer and a plea all at once. His body shuddered against hers, his cock still throbbing inside her, the warmth of his release pooling deep within. She could feel the sweat dripping down his chest, the way his muscles trembled with the effort of holding himself up, and for a moment, there was nothing but the two of them, tangled together in the aftermath of something that felt as raw and unrelenting as the fight that had brought them here.

His breath was warm against her neck as he finally stilled, collapsing half on her, half beside her, his cock still buried inside her, softening but undeniably present. She could feel him there, a heavy, grounding weight, and for the first time in weeks, there was a strange, unexpected sense of completeness. But it was fleeting, and as her fingers traced the curve of his spine, she knew the fight wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

They stayed like that for a moment, their breathing ragged, sweat slicking their bodies. He didn’t pull out, his cock still buried deep inside her, as if even now he couldn’t bear to be apart from her. “I’m not letting you go,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Not again.”

She closed her eyes, her body still trembling, her anger still simmering beneath the surface, but for now, it was muted by the sheer liquid heat of what had just happened between them.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin.

She didn’t respond, her eyes still closed as she tried to process everything that had just happened. The anger, the passion, the way he had touched her as if he never wanted to let her go—it was all too much.

He shifted slightly, pulling her closer as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m not giving up on us.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions—anger, fear, longing. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze intense as he looked at her. “Then let me earn it,” he said, his voice steady. “Let me prove to you that I’m not going anywhere.”

She didn’t answer, her heart torn between wanting to believe him and the fear that he would only hurt her again. But before she could say anything, he was kissing her again, his lips soft and gentle this time, a stark contrast to the earlier frenzy.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low but firm, laced with a quiet desperation that she hadn’t heard before. His forehead pressed against hers, their bodies still tangled together, his hand gripping her hip like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to reality.

She let out a bitter laugh, her chest rising and falling as she stared up at him through narrowed eyes. “You told me that before. And then you disappeared for months. Just vanished. Like I meant nothing.” Her voice cracked on the last word, the anger in her tone breaking open to reveal the raw hurt underneath.

His jaw tightened, his fingers flexing against her skin. “I didn’t vanish. You threw me out. You screamed at me to leave, Y/N. What was I supposed to do? Stay and beg?” His voice rose, frustration seeping into every word, but there was something else there too—something vulnerable, almost pleading.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body tensing beneath him. “You were supposed to fight for us! Not ignore my calls, not ghost me like some coward. Do you know how much that hurt? How many nights I laid awake wondering if you ever even cared?”

He flinched, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again, his eyes dark and burning. “Do you know how much it killed me to stay away? To see your texts and not respond, to hear your voice and not answer? I hated myself for it, Y/N. Every single day. But you... you made it sound like you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

She swallowed hard, her throat tight, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely think. “You were supposed to come back,” she whispered, her voice trembling now, the fight draining out of her. “You were supposed to come back and tell me you weren’t done with me.”

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone, his touch gentle despite the storm raging in his eyes. “Because I’m not,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not done with you. I’ll never be done with you. You’re it for me, Y/N. You always have been. Even when I was being an idiot, even when I was fucking things up—it was always you.”

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to look away, but he didn’t let her. He tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, his expression torn between anger and adoration. “Don’t do that,” he said softly. “Don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Scared you’ll do it again. Scared you’ll leave me.”

His lips crashed against hers then, fierce and desperate, his arms wrapping around her like he was trying to merge them into one. “I’m not leaving,” he said when he finally pulled away, his breath hot against her skin. “Not now, not ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

She let out a shaky breath, her hands fisting in his hair as she pulled him closer. “I hate you,” she muttered, but there was no real venom behind it—just vulnerability, just fear, just the truth of how badly she wanted to believe him.

“Good,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her forehead, his tone soft but defiant. “Hate me all you want. But you’re still mine. And this time, I’m not letting go.”

Their breaths tangled in the air, heavy and uneven, the room humming with the echoes of their raw intensity. Lando’s body hovered over hers, their skin still fused together with the heat of what had just unfolded. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself out of her, his cock slipping free with a wet, unmistakable sound. A trail of his cum followed, trickling down her thigh, marking her in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Don’t move.” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but it carried a weight that made her obey instantly. 

She stayed still, her body limp against the cushions as he slid off the couch, his movements deliberate. He didn’t look away from her as he walked to the bathroom, his eyes lingering on her sprawled form, the way her chest rose and fell, the curve of her hips glowing in the dim light. The room felt smaller with him gone, the air heavier, as if it were waiting for him to return. She could hear the faint sound of water running, the rustle of a towel being pulled from the rack. Her skin tingled where he had touched her, where he had been inside her, and she fought the urge to reach down and feel the warmth he’d left behind.

He returned with a warm towel in hand, the soft fabric damp against his palms. Gently, he knelt between her legs, his touch reverent as he cleaned her, wiping away the evidence of their shared desperation. His fingers brushed against her skin with a tenderness that made her heart ache, his focus entirely on her, on the way her body responded to his care. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, her eyes fixed on him. His face was softer now, the edges of his earlier intensity smoothed by something deeper, something unspoken. His gaze traveled over her, savoring every inch, every curve, every imperfection she’d tried so hard to hide. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice breaking the quiet, his hand pausing over her hip as if he was memorizing the feel of her under his touch. “Not a single part of you that isn’t mine.” Her breath caught, her chest rising sharply as his words sank in. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the way he looked at her—so soft, so full of something she couldn’t quite name—left her paralyzed.

He sat down on the sofa, his body sinking into the cushions, his bare skin still glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. She shifted awkwardly, pushing herself up from the sprawled position she’d been in, her back leaning against the soft fabric of the sofa. He didn’t speak, didn’t move to help her, just watched as she settled into a seated position, her legs crossed loosely in front of her. The cool air of the room brushed against her naked skin, raising tiny bumps across her arms and thighs, but she barely noticed. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly parted, her eyes fixed on him. She still hadn’t uttered a word, her anger simmering just beneath the surface, a heated pulse that made her chest tighten every time he glanced at her.

He reached over, his fingers brushing against the underside of her thigh, a feather-light touch that made her breath catch in her throat. His eyes darted down, sweeping over her body once, twice, his gaze lingering long enough to send a shiver down her spine. She clenched her jaw, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest, her legs pressing tighter together. His calmness grated on her nerves. It was infuriating how gentle he could still be, even now. He kept his hand there, his fingertips lightly tracing patterns on her skin, like he was memorizing her, like he needed to touch her to believe she was real. She wanted to shove him away, to snap at him, but her own body betrayed her, leaning into his touch just enough that she cursed herself silently.

Something flickered in his eyes—something deep and unspeakable. It didn’t matter that she was angry, that she was conflicted, that she hadn’t said a word since it happened. He was still there, still touching her, still looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Her heart pulsed in her chest, a heavy, uneven throb that made her stomach twist. 

“Look at me,” he murmured, voice low. When she finally did, his eyes were earnest, a soft warmth chasing away the last vestiges of the cold distance she’d seen earlier.

“I swear to you,” he said, “the woman in those pictures is no one. She isn’t some new fling or anything like that. I didn’t even catch her name. We just happened to leave the club at the same time, and I guess the paparazzi decided to make it a story. I—I would never—” His voice tightened with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, and he shook his head, as if trying to fling away the mere thought of betrayal. “I’d never move on like that. Especially not after everything with us. You have to believe me.”

She heard the raw plea in his voice, and it squeezed her heart. She wanted to cling to her anger—it felt safer, in some warped way—but her body and soul knew the truth: she still loved him. Even after all the agony and heartbreak, even after the months of silence that nearly broke her, part of her wanted to trust him again.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she whispered, her eyes drifting down to where his fingertips rubbed soft, comforting circles on her thigh. “Why let me think the worst, after I flew all this way?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his messy curls. “I panicked,” he admitted. “I thought... maybe you’d already decided I wasn’t worth it. Or that you’d never forgive me. When I got your messages about the tabloid story, I—I freaked out. I’ve handled everything so badly, Y/N. I know that.”

She studied his face, searching for any sign of deceit. But the exhaustion and remorse in his gaze looked painfully real. “You hurt me,” she said plainly, not as an accusation but as a truth that hung between them.

“I know.” He swallowed hard. “It kills me to know that. But I’m here now—and so are you. And if you’ll let me, I want to make it right.”

The anger in her chest wavered, replaced by a tender ache. She let out a shaky breath. “I’m tired of fighting you,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “Tired of feeling like I’m chasing ghosts in my own head. You shut me out for so long, Lando. I thought... maybe you’d moved on. Or you realized I wasn’t enough.”

His eyes flared with a sudden, fierce protectiveness. “Don’t you ever say that again,” he murmured, reaching to cup her chin and guide her gaze to his. “You’ve always been more than enough. You’re my reason. You think I spent those nine months partying or living it up? I was miserable without you. I was just too proud—too damn stupid—to admit it.”

She felt her defenses begin to crumble. The sincerity in his eyes made her chest tighten, and despite the chaos that still swirled inside her, a quiet warmth began to spread.

He dipped his head closer, voice husky with emotion. “I’m not here to give you excuses. I’m here to do better. If you’ll let me.”

Something in the way he said it made her pulse stutter. “I don’t know how to fix us,” she whispered.

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles—hopeful, trembling on the edge of uncertainty. “We can figure it out, one day at a time. I’ll give you all the space you need, but I won’t vanish again. That’s a promise.”

Y/N let her eyes slip shut for a moment, recalling the jarring stillness of her apartment, the sense of betrayal when she’d read that tabloid message, and the constant, relentless question of her own worth. Then she thought of his texts from long ago—the sweet promises he used to make, the way he’d spin her around his apartment in a spontaneous dance, the unexpected, thoughtful gifts that were more about making her smile than showing off.

She opened her eyes again, looking into his. “If you ever disappear on me again...”

He shook his head, already understanding the weight of her threat. “I won’t.”

A fragile moment of silence passed, and then, quietly, she slid closer. It wasn’t the desperate need from earlier, but a gentle, tentative reach for comfort. His arms enveloped her, and for once, she let herself sink into him—breathing in the faint scent of his cologne, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. Each thud was like a quiet pledge that he was still here, that he wasn’t running.

“You really don’t know her?” she asked after a moment, referencing the girl in the tabloid photos. There was no bitterness left in her tone—only a vulnerable request for the truth.

Lando snorted softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I promise you—I have no idea who she is. The tabloids saw a chance to stir drama, and they took it. But if I could rewind time and see the flash of those cameras, I’d have run in the opposite direction just to spare you that pain.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “So dramatic, Norris.”

He grinned, a flash of his usual mischief finally returning. “You know me. I’m a sucker for the dramatic.”

Something about that smile, about the lightening of his mood, allowed her to hope. She lifted her head and traced a finger along his jaw. “You’re a fool,” she said softly.

“But you still love me anyway.” He caught her hand, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.

She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, remembering her self-doubts, her fears. “I do,” she admitted, voice hushed. “And I hate how much I do.”

His fingers interlocked with hers. “I’ll do my best to make you hate it less. Starting now.”

Slowly, he guided her to sit up, then reached for the blankets crumpled at the edge of the couch. Pulling one around her shoulders, he tucked her in gently, his gaze never leaving her face. There was a sweet, soothing quiet in the gesture, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged between them just moments before.

He cleared his throat, looking almost shy. “Look, I—I’m sorry if this is too soon, but... I can’t let you stay in a hotel tonight. Stay here.” When he registered her sudden tension, he shook his head. “I’m not asking for—any of that. I just want you close. Let me prove that I’m serious about fixing this, about us.”

Her mind flickered with a thousand possible retorts, but instead, she simply nodded. “Okay.”

A small, relieved smile touched his lips. He bent down, scooped her clothes from the floor, and handed them to her with uncharacteristic care. As they dressed in silence, the conversation that still needed to happen—about the past, about forgiveness—hovered unspoken, but for once, it didn’t feel insurmountable.

When they were both clothed again, Lando reached for her hand, leading her to the bedroom. The lights of Monaco glowed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the space in soft gold and silver. She hesitated at the threshold, her heart pounding. But he just guided her to the edge of the bed, turned down the blankets, and held them open for her.

The gesture was so gentle that fresh tears stung at her eyes. She slid beneath the covers, and he lay down beside her, maintaining a careful distance until she inched closer, bridging the gap. His arm went around her shoulders, and her head found its home against his chest.

They lay there, the tension of the night still throbbing in the background, but now there was something else—a quiet, cautious kind of peace. She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat.

“Lando,” she whispered, “I don’t know how we move past everything that’s happened. But for tonight... can we just be here together?”

He pressed his lips to her hairline, his breath warm against her skin. “Tonight, tomorrow, every day after if you’ll let me,” he answered softly. “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

She felt a tear slip free, but it wasn’t one of sorrow. In the glow of the Monaco lights, pressed against the warmth of his body, she found the faintest flicker of hope flickering in her chest—a fragile promise that maybe, this time, they could find their way back to each other.

“I believe you,” she whispered, letting herself relax into the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed a small, hopeful smile to curve her lips. “And I’m tired of pushing you away.”

He tightened his hold on her, his thumb tracing idle circles on her arm. “Then don’t,” he murmured.

She sighed, contentment blooming slowly in her chest. “I won’t.”

In the quiet that followed, there were no more words—just the soft cadence of their breathing, the hush of the night sky outside, and the unspoken vow settling between them. No matter how broken things had seemed, they would try. And for now, that was enough.

[norrisainz33]

surprise || op81

☆ summary: oscar surprises his partner on valentine’s day

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: nope

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

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yourbff: DIVA DOWN

ynuser: it rough out here bestie i miss you and osco and im so tired

yourbff: my queen 😭 i miss you more and i know he does too bb. only a little bit more time and you’ll get to see him in aus!! plusssss im seeing you this weekend

ynuser: ugh i know i know it’s just a spilled coffee day and im emotional

user1: liammmmmm noooooo 😫

lando: rip

ynuser: rip is right

user2: i love how you just be a normal girly going to work and also dating the op81 like

oscarpiastri: spilled coffee or not you still look incredible

ynuser: thank you sweetheart

oscarpiastri: of course gorgeous. i just sent you £20 - go get another coffee on me please

ynuser: oscar 😭😭😭😭😭😭

mclarenf1: nooooo coffee in aus is on us!!

ynuser: love you admin 🧡

user3: girl i need you to post a grwm ur makeup is always flawless

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yourbff: OSCHINA 🗣️ i need ur assistance

oscarpiastri: lol what’s up?

yourbff: your darling girlfriend is down bad and i know she’s trying to pretend like she’s not for your sake but i think we should organize a lil something something to lift her spirits

oscarpiastri: already in the works. i was actually going to text you to ask for help

user2: i’m obsessed actually

mclarenf1: nice

user4: the home race hoodie!! take 💳 my 💳 money 💳

ynuser: cutie patootie i love the new helmet! p.s can’t wait for my piastri home race jumper to come in the mail

oscarpiastri: it should be there on friday with a special delivery 😉

ynuser: oooooo can’t wait

user5: this is gonna be your year oscar i just know it

user6: i can’t wait to see that fresh lid on track

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yourbff: i really hope you removed her from your close friends list before posting this

oscarpiastri: i did don’t worry! and she for sure is going to be at the restaurant we talked about at 7 right?

yourbff: yes!! she thinks she’s meeting me there for #galentines. you’re lucky i’m letting you steal my valentine

oscarpiastri: i am lucky that’s for sure! thank you for all your help ❤️

lando: omg are you going to see y/n/n

oscarpiastri: correct! gonna surprise her for valentine’s day

lando: C U T E

nicolepiastri: i wish you were coming home but go get that girl!!

oscarpiastri: i’ll be home soon ❤️

logansargeant: better be going to see y/n 🤨

oscarpiastri: i am 🥹 miss you man

mclarenf1: have fun oscar!

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: hot hot hot hot

yourbff: oh my god you’re gorgeous. i’m gonna have the hottest date tn

ynuser: stopppppp thank you

user7: oscar is the luckiest man in the world

oscarpiastri: wow sorry i just started drooling

ynuser: hahaha oscar 😂

oscarpiastri: can’t help it! you’re so insanely beautiful 😍😫

ynuser: and i’m all yours baby

oscarpiastri: mm thank goodness

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re stunning. i hope you know that baby girl

ynuser: alex i’m gonna cry 😭

user8: WOOF WOOF WOOF sorry idk what came over me there

iamrebeccad: happy valentines beautiful

ynuser: happy valentines darling!! i hope carlos treated you like the queen you are

iamrebeccad: i hope oscar does the same 😉

user9: idk if i wanna be you or be with you

oscarpiastri posted to his story

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user5: may this sort of love find me

yourbff: 🤍🤍🤍 adorable

oscarpiastri: yes ❤️

user6: couple goals

ynuser: i’m sorry for ugly crying at dinner. thank you so much for flying all the way here to see me!! i know how crazy things are getting with the season so close😭🤍

oscarpiastri: never apologize for feeling your feelings baby. there’s no place i’d rather be than with you

ynuser: how did i get so lucky????

oscarpiastri: i often ask myself the same thing

user9: oscar you have to stop setting the bar for men so high

iamrebeccad: give her a hug for me

oscarpiastri: done 🫶🏻

mclarenf1: our favorite girl 💐🧡

oscarpiastri has made a post

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oscarpiastri: spent the weekend with my forever valentine

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opeightyone: our favorite duo 🤍

user9: my mom and dad 🗣️

lando: ewwwwww this is rlly cute

oscarpiastri: thanks?

user14: i just showed this to my partner and asked why they didn’t do this for me

ynuser: forever and always ❤️

oscarpiastri: promise?

ynuser: yes handsome 😘

user12: end game end game end game

nicolepiastri: love you both so much

ynuser: love YOU mama piastri

user14: y’all are the blueprint 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🤍 happy valentine’s day 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[gracie-eilish]

🦋thinking about gentleness (prologue)

warning: contains smut

“are you sure, baby?” billie looked at you with the softest, most gentle look in her eyes as she asked. her hands were clasped with yours, her thumb rubbing over the top of your hand.

“i’m so sure. im so so so sure…. a little nervous but im sure!” you squeaked out, face flushing a shade of pink billie had deemed as her favorite color.

she smiled softly and warmly before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek, only pulling back a pinch to look you in your eyes.

“you have nothing to be nervous about love. we’ll go slow, and i’ll explain everything you need me to and you tell me if something makes you uncomfy or hurts or whatever. my top priority is that you feel safe and good, okay mama?” you could have melted into a puddle there at her tone. no one had ever had this much patience and warmth for you. no one had ever made you feel so loved and adored before.

you nodded and she smiled, bringing your clasped hands to her lips. only releasing your hands to scoop you up in her arms bridal style, making you giggle and blush furiously.

“what? i gotta make it special!” you smiled at her and leaned up to kiss her cheek. she made everything special. she made breathing special.

your heart was beating faster and faster as she approached her bedroom. you always felt more cozy at her place.

the door creaked a twinge as it opened, and then creaked back as billie shut it with her foot, making you chuckle at her little skill.

billie couldn’t help but feel better at the sight of your smile, knowing you were feeling so relaxed. she wanted to make this perfect for you, something you had expressed to her that terrified you for years, was now something you wanted more than anything.

softly, billie laid you down on her bed, the comforter feeling soft and clean and cool under your flushed skin. she pressed a kiss to your forehead before padding around the room making the ambience perfect. she opened the curtains and squeaked open the balcony door, letting the room flood with the sounds of the ocean and the moonlight reflecting off the water. she then made her way to her dresser where she lit a vanilla scented candle, one that made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

she looked back at you and smiled. you laid there comfortably just watching her make the moment perfect, while somehow looking even more perfect then when she left you. finally she made her way back to the bed, slowly moving to hover over you, straddling your hips lightly.

“hi mama,” she whispered softly.

“hi lovey,” you giggled back.

“can i kiss you please?” she said in her signature little voice making you snort.

“yes baby, please for the love of god kiss me!”

and with that she leaned in and kissed you softly once, twice, three times…

there was no rush, just two people feeling each other, touching each other, loving each other. she pulled away from your lips to pepper kisses to your jawline and down your neck, smirking when you let out a soft gasp as she found your most sensitive spot.

“you feel okay lovey?” she murmured into your neck, only continuing her kisses when you nodded.

you stated to squirm, the feeling of her lips brushing and sucking on your skin sent shocks to your core.

“patience lovey, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” her voice was sweeter than honey, fogging up your brain.

once she was satisfied with her watercolor like marks on your neck, she pulled away and sat up, now fully straddling your hips.

“can i take this off baby?” she asked softly, playing with the hem of your shirt. nervously you nodded causing her to shaker her head at you.

“nah uh. i need words mama,” she said making you whine at her sultry tone.

“yes billie, you can take it off.” you whined out, making billie chuckle at your eagerness.

one by one, she unbuttoned your shirt revealing your delicate lace bra adorning your tits. of course you had prepared for this.

the thought of you trying things on and deciding what would look best made billie’s heart clench. all you wanted was to be pretty for her.

billie would never think otherwise.

like a butterfly, she pressed kisses to your breasts, taking her time, truly just worshipping your body. she reveled in your little gasps and soft moans you were letting out. she was so proud you were so relaxed and comfortable with her.

she continued her descent and kisses until you were nearly bare, only in your bra and panties. when you suddenly lost your confidence, grabbing billie’s forearm as her hand rested on you breast. she pulled away from you neck, decorating the other side with a hickey.

“what’s wrong mama? you okay?” her blue eyes wide with concern. had she pushed you too far? did she hurt you?

“i’m just.. i’m just a little self conscious.” billie took note of the way your hands slithered back around from her waist to rest on your tummy, picking at your nail nervously, and the way your gaze shifted down towards your twiddling fingers. she knew what you needed.

she sat back up before opening up her own buttons to her top. one by one, opening her top revealing her own decorated breasts, adorned in lace, making your mouth water in a way it hadn’t ever before. she then hopped off your lap to remove her jeans, leaving you both in your underwear.

when she returned to hover over you, your eyes had gone softer, the warmth returning to them a bit. billie rested one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist, dipping down to press a kiss to your nose.

“better?” you nodded happily, smiling so bright.

“just..” you cut yourself off, looking up at billie. “go slow.”

billie leaned down to kiss you on the lips, so softly yet passionately.

“i wouldn’t dream of anything else mama,” she replied with a wink.

her fingers continued their exploration, gently pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples, sending sparks of delight through your body. as your moans filled the room, billie’s hands traveled downward, tracing the lace that covered your stomach. she played with the elastic waistband, teasingly pulling it down just enough to reveal a hint of your navel, before slowly inching it back up. the anticipation was driving you wild.

“please, billie," you whispered, your voice laced with need. "i want more.

she smiled against your skin, her lips leaving a trail of kisses down your torso. she positioned herself between your thighs, her breath causing goosebumps on the sensitive skin. with deliberate slowness, she hooked her fingers under the lace and slowly rolled down your panties, revealing your glistening folds.

"you’re so wet, sweet girl," she whispered, her voice thick with desire.

with gentle expertise, billie parted your folds, exposing your clit. she blew softly, sending a rush of sensation through your body. then, with deliberate slowness, she lowered her head and took your bud between her lips, sucking gently.

"oh god billie!" you exclaimed, your voice high-pitched and breathless. "please, billie, i want you inside me," you pleaded, your voice hoarse and raw.

“it’s okay, baby," billie whispered, her voice soothing. "just relax and let me love you.”

billie’s tongue continued to flick and tease, her lips sucking gently, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. as your orgasm slowly built, billie inserted a finger into your tight hole, curling it upwards to find that magical spot within.

“you okay mama?” billie asked softly, her other hand rubbing softly on your thigh. her eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort or pain as you opened your eyes slowly, meeting billie’s gaze. you reached up to cup billie’s cheek, bringing her down to kiss her softly.

“i’m okay baby,” you whispered in her lips. “please keep going mama, feels so- god it feels so good.”

billie thrust her fingers back in, her pace quickening as she saw your body relax more and more into it. your breath hitched and your moans were high pitched and choppy, signaling to billie you were close.

“it’s okay baby,” billie mumbled into your neck, kissing the area. “let go f’me princess, let yourself feel it.”

your body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you, your juices flowing freely as you climaxed for the very first time.

the air is thick from your recent activities. your chest heaving, legs shaking a bit, hands slowly losing their grip on the sheets…

when you start to feel tiny kisses being placed up your tummy, so soft like a butterfly landing on your bare skin. as you catch your breath and swallow, you let your eyes open and lift your head to look down to see her, looking right at you with those big blue eyes, while pressing more kisses. she’s never seen anything so beautiful.

you go to prop yourself on your elbows but she places a hand on your chest, silently telling you to lay back; she’s got you.

the kisses continue over your collarbones, soothing the pink and purple watercolor like marks she left earlier. up your neck before finishing on your cheeks. teensy butterfly like kisses all over.

she finishes her butterfly migration with a few soft but longer kisses. to your left cheek. and right. the tip of your nose. your forehead. the corner of your lips. and the other corner. and finally she kisses your lips, sat in your lap straddling you, holding your face in her hands like you were made of glass. running her thumbs on your practically stained pink cheeks.

“hi mama,” she’d whisper, pulling away, her smile growing tenfold watching the pink stain grow to your nose, completing your blush.

“hi lovey,” you’d reply, smiling so big you felt like you had an upside down hanger stuck in your mouth.

your hands sat comfortably on her soft hips, rubbing soft circles as the two of you just looked at each other, smiling, blushing, softly giggling. basking in the love bubble you had just created making love for the first time.

“you okay babygirl?” billie cooed, peppering kisses to your forehead and hairline.

“mmhmmm” you nodded sleepily, making billie smile and you swore you could see a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “thank you for making me feel so safe.” you whispered.

“oh baby,” billie melted, leaning in to cradle your face, kissing your cheek before wrapping her arms around you.

she’d never let anything happen to you.

“can i clean you up lovey? maybe we can relax for a bit? your body just did a lot for the first time.” you nodded at billie’s request, letting her help you stand from the bed, her arm around your waist as you both walked to the bathroom. she picked you up and helped you sit on the counter, kissing your nose, before turning around to start the bath.

“billie?” you mumbled. billie turned around, a worried look in her eye. but the look softened when you reached your arms out and spread your legs a bit for her to come stand in between them. you wiggled your fingers willing her closer, making her heart officially melt for the thousandth time that night.

she walked over stepping right in front of of you between your legs. she took your wrists and delicately placed them on her shoulders, and her own arms went to wrap around your waist, both of you simultaneously pulling each other closer. her head went to nuzzle in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses, eyes closed.

billie made a mental note that you liked cuddles and being close after sex.

“how ya feelin angel?” she pulled away a little bit to see your face, pushing some of your hair out of the way.

“good,” you whispered with a blushy smile. one billie took a mental photo of to remember forever.

with one last kiss to your lips, billie slipped out of your hold to light a few candles and put some bubble bath into the warm water before turning off the lights and helping you off the counter.

she held your hand as you stepped into the bathtub and settled into the warm water, billie following and settling behind you, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in tight.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, no words were exchanged. just soft kisses to cheeks and hands and shoulders and fingers. and hands wandered over tummies and thighs and grasped each others fingers. billie even threaded her fingers through your hair, french braiding it to keep it dry and out of the water.

no words were exchanged, but you had never been so certain of anything in your life.

billie loved you.

she didn’t even have to say anything right now. and you knew.

and you loved her.

so much.

you could feel it in the way she massaged her body wash into your shoulders, enveloping you in billie’s woodsy vanilla scent. you could feel it in the way she wrapped you up in a warm fluffy towel, patting you dry making you giggle. you could feel it in the way she lotioned your arms and legs for you. and the way she dabbed moisturized on your face, sneaking a kiss to your cheeks.

as you snuggled into billie’s arms that night in bed, and her fingers wandered on your back tracing shapes, you could feel it even more.

“i love you,” you mumbled, already halfway to dreamland.

“i love you baby, so much.”

to some, this may have just been sex but to you it was so much more.

[luvst4rc0r3]

Can you write more loser!jinx x reader but a fanfic

Yes!!

"Your going to get me killed"

Jinx x F!Reader

Modern AU.

WC:775

Note:Not my fav fic

Jinx’s house wasn’t exactly the easiest to sneak into.

Not because it was secure—if anything, the place was a mess, with half the windows unlocked and Vi constantly leaving the back door open when she left for the gym. But Jinx was the kind of person who was always awake.

It was like she had a built-in alarm system, except instead of barking dogs or security cameras, it was just her weird ability to wake up the second something interesting was happening.

Which is why you were extra careful as you climbed in through her bedroom window.

You had climbed up the side of her house, balancing on the edge of her windowsill like some kind of chaotic, lovesick ninja. Jinx was still half-asleep when you knocked—more like banged—on her window.

At first, she thought she was dreaming. Or hallucinating. Maybe both. But then you knocked again, louder this time, and she nearly fell out of bed.

Jinx, squinting through the darkness: ”…The hell?”

You, grinning like you weren’t breaking and entering: “Let me in.”

She blinked. Rubbed her eyes. Blinked again.

“You’re gonna get me killed.”

But she opened the window anyway.

The second you climbed inside, you were on her—pressing her back against the wall, hands tangling in her messy blue hair, your breath warm against her lips.

“Hi.”

Jinx’s brain short-circuited.

“H-Hi?”

You smirked. “You’re cute when you stutter.”

Jinx was done for. Her hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you closer, her heart beating so fast she was convinced you could feel it through her hoodie.

“You broke into my house just to make fun of me?”

“Nah.” You tilted your head, eyes dropping to her lips. “I broke in to do this.”

And then you kissed her.

And Jinx? Yeah, she definitely stopped breathing.

It started slow—your lips soft, teasing, like you had all the time in the world. But then she kissed back, and suddenly, it wasn’t slow at all.

She was grabbing at you, pulling you into her like you might disappear, her fingers curling into the fabric of your hoodie. Your back hit the edge of her desk, and she used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tilting her head just right, making you sigh against her mouth.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

Jinx had imagined this a lot—probably more than she’d admit. But the real thing? So much better.

Your hands slid under her hoodie, your fingers tracing slow circles against her skin, making her shiver. She bit your lip in retaliation, grinning when you gasped.

“Trouble,” you murmured.

“Duh,” she whispered back.

You closed the distance, capturing her lips in a slow, teasing kiss. Jinx made a sound somewhere between a giggle and a sigh, her arms snaking around your neck, pulling you even closer.

She tasted like candy—probably from whatever she’d been snacking on before you got here. Her fingers tangled in your hair, nails lightly scratching your scalp as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss like she needed this.

Like she needed you.

The kiss turned heated fast—Jinx was never one for patience. She nipped at your bottom lip, grinning when you let out a quiet gasp.

You kissed her again, deeper this time, and Jinx swore she could’ve died happy right then and there.

Then—

BANG.

A loud knock on the door.

“Jinx, who the hell are you talking to?”

Vi.

Jinx froze. So did you.

Her heart plummeted to the floor.

“Shitshitshitshit—”

She shoved you toward the closet so fast you barely had time to react. You tripped, cursing under your breath as you tumbled inside. Jinx yanked the door shut just as Vi pushed hers open.

She barely had time to act casual before Vi flicked on the lights, squinting at her suspiciously.

“Why are you awake?”

Jinx, definitely lying: “Homework.”

Vi, raising an eyebrow: “Since when do you do homework?”

Jinx, sweating: “Since… now?”

Vi glanced around the room, eyes narrowing.

“You sure you’re alone?”

From inside the closet, you held your breath.

Jinx forced the most innocent look she could manage. “Yep! Just me, myself, and my crippling academic struggles.”

Vi didn’t look convinced.

Jinx had never done homework in her life.

But after a long, painful pause, Vi just sighed. “Whatever. Go to sleep.”

She turned to leave.

The second the door shut, Jinx raced to the closet, yanking it open.

You tumbled out, wheezing.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

And then, because you were you, you smirked, grabbed her hoodie, and kissed her again.

Jinx?

Yeah, she was definitely getting murdered for this.

I want food

[a99jazzybean]

Let's Experiment a Little

synop: Viktor requests your assistance in testing out a new invention. Little did you know, walking into that lab would be your undoing.

words: 3.1K

includes: jayvikxfem!reader, sex, threesome, vibrators, fingering, cum eating, riding, a sprinkle of pathetic Jayce.

a/n: Besties, it's just porn. So 18+ only!

Stop by the lab tonight. Wear a skirt.

-V

You looked over the note Viktor had stuck to your door. Oddly enough, it wasn't a weird request from the man. Him and Jayce had begun working on technology for medical purposes, and you just so happened to be the perfect candidate for beta testing some of their inventions. While you had gotten a shock once or twice, most of the time it was generally safe. Plus they had perfected stabilizing the hexgems, so you weren’t too concerned. 

Obliging Viktor’s request, you donned a short skirt. Something you hadn’t worn for awhile as showing this much skin wasn’t necessarily something you enjoyed. But for science, you’d allow it. Sure, you could have picked something slightly longer, but you had a feeling they were going to need to connect something to your exposed skin. Might as well remove that barrier. 

Okay, maybe you were lying to yourself. Perhaps there was a small part of you that wanted to gain the men’s attention. Lord knows they always gave it their all on their work. Maybe they could give you some for just a little bit of time. Especially considering you had been pining after them for what seemed like forever. 

Little did you know, the two shared the same affections for you. Viktor being his cool, calculated self patiently waited for your entrance. Jayce was fiddling with hands as he waited as well. 

“Do you think she’s gonna come?” The larger man asked, hazel eyes glistening with hope.

Viktor hummed, a smirk on his face.

“Yes. She always does. Tonight will be no different.”

As he finished his sentence you pushed open one of the doors to the lab. Peeking in your head and beaming when you saw the men. You entered the room, not noticing the men appraising your appearance. Their eyes raking over your very exposed legs. Jayce was sure if you bent over he would be able to see everything. 

“So, what do you need help with?” You asked, nervously rocking on the balls of your feet. 

“Just some testing on a new device of ours.” Viktor said cooly. His gold eyes trying to read you. 

Your demeanor, sweet as always. Innocent. Though Viktor knew you better than that. Catching your lustful gaze one too many times as you watched his hands fiddle with tools. Enjoying the way your mouth would part in awe when he would dexterously spin screwdrivers with his fingers. 

“What’s the device do?” You asked, looking around to see if it was visible.

Viktor bit his tongue with a coy smile. He could just outright tell you, but where was the fun in that? He could already picture the flustered state you’d be in when you connected the dots yourself. 

“Something that can help provide relief.”

You raised a brow, a confused yet oh so adorable look on your face. 

“Yeah, relief.” Jayce echoed giddly. The action made him receive a warning look from Viktor. The man decided to let his partner do the rest of the talking. Jayce was never good at keeping surprises. 

“Like pain relief?” You asked. 

Something felt off. The air in the lab was charged with something, something you couldn’t place your finger on. Both of the men eyeing you up as if they wanted to devour you. Which they did, but you weren’t privy to that just yet.

“Something like that…” Viktor trailed, hoping you would catch on soon. 

“Why are you being so cryptic?” You felt your heart rate pick up. 

Yes, there was something different about this request of theirs. 

“I’m not being cryptic.” The man gave you another smirk. 

“Quit teasing me…” You almost whined. 

“Why don’t I show you the device?” Viktor waved for Jayce to grab the item. 

The taller man held a box in his hand, as he ushered you up to him and Viktor. You tentatively made your way over to the men. Still feeling their hungry gazes on you. 

When you stood before them, Jayce opened the box. Inside was a small somewhat cylindrical shaped item, but more organic looking. It was the classic blue of Hextech items, with a gold trim. On top, a smaller version of the hexgem was placed in a divot. There were three buttons on the object. Jayce picked it up and placed it in your hand. It was made of a softer material, almost rubber like. Your fingers skimmed over it, eyes filled with curiosity. It was unlike anything they had made before. 

“What is it?” You asked after observing it. 

“Press this button.” Viktor pointed to the one closest to the front end of the item. 

You did as he asked. The hexgem glowing blue, as a small vibration came from the item. The movement startling you, making you almost drop the item. Thankfully, you managed to keep ahold of it. 

“S-sorry!” You said, cheeks ruddy with embarrassment. “I didn’t know it was going to do that.”

“Press the one on the opposite side!” Jayce said, eyes glittering with anticipation. 

You nodded, pressing the other button. The vibrations changed into a pattern of buzzes. A look of confusion on your face. You didn’t understand how this could provide pain relief. Then you had a bit of a lightbulb moment. 

“Oh! Is it a massager? That’s what you mean about pain relief? The vibrations loosen muscles.” You looked at them with a smile. Catching them giving each other knowing looks. 

Viktor reached for the item, turning it off. Nimble fingers tracing around the edge of it. He chuckled.

“It’s a massager of sorts. Would you care to try it out?” That hunger was back in his eyes again. 

“Sure!” You said. You enjoyed helping your friends, even if they were being odd. It was for science after all. 

“Jayce.” Viktor nodded to the doors. 

Obeying the unspoken command, Jayce jogged over to the doors. Quickly flicking the locks on. The action making your heart rate speed up. 

“Why did you lock the doors?” 

“This experiment… is eh, best performed away from prying eyes.” That coy smile played on his lips. “Jayce, why don’t you come over?”

The man once again followed the command. Viktor patted the counter next to him. Jayce took a seat on top, legs spread. 

“Why don’t you sit here?” Viktor pat the open space between the man’s thick thighs. 

Heat shot to your face. The thought of the close proximity making your heart flutter. 

“Oh…um. Okay.” You said softly, walking to the counter and sitting between his legs.

Warm hands grasped your waist and pulled  you flush against the tall man’s chest. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless… you want me to?” He flashed a gap-toothed smile at you. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You let out a squeak of surprise when a cold hand grasped your thigh. Viktor had pulled up to you. He placed the device on the counter. Long fingers traced circles on your thigh as you felt your breathing pick up. Face flush with embarrassment. 

Viktor knew you would comply with their wishes. Always the people pleaser. You had put yourself in uncomfortable positions for the men before, and you would keep doing so. Something Viktor greatly appreciated. Such a devoted and pretty test subject. 

“Before we begin testing the device, we’ll have to see how you respond to more neutral stimuli.” His gold eyes locked with yours, making you shiver. 

The hand on your thigh, still affectionately drawing along your skin. 

“Neutral stimuli?” You squeaked, barely finding your voice. 

This position was something you had dreamed of for countless nights. It felt unreal. Having the two men touching you like this. 

“Yes, neutral. I suggest using my hands.” He said, placing his free hand on your other thigh. The action made you jolt, but Jayce quickly held your hips down. The man behind you chuckled darkly. 

“You can tell me to stop. I will. We’ll unlock the doors, and you can head home like nothing happened.” The man before you spoke lowly. “Or you can stay. Which is what you want, isn’t it?” 

You felt like you couldn’t speak. Instead, you nodded your head. Your lack of words making Viktor tisk. The hungry look in his eyes had you shivering.

“I need you to say it.” 

“Yes.” You breathed. 

Jayce stiffened behind you, a small whine leaving him. The sound shooting straight to your core. 

“Now, shall we begin?” Viktor asked. 

“Yes. Please.” You said.

The man before you chuckled. His hands pushing up your skirt. His amber eyes flitting up to you after he took in the panties you were wearing. A cute white lacy number. A long finger reaching under the waistband, snapping it against your skin. The sharp sting made you jolt, but Jayce held you down again. 

Trailing a finger on your clothed core had Viktor groaning. You were already so wet, so ready for them. He pulled your panties off, and groaned again. The sight of your weeping core making his cock strain in his pants. Behind you, you could feel Jayce’s own erection pressed against your back. He felt huge, and Viktor wasn’t anything to shrug off either. Through his pants you could tell he was hung.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Viktors fingers swept through your folds. A strangled moan leaving your lips as he did so. Jayce’s cock twitching at the sound, a groan of his own hot against your neck. The man began to leave wet kisses down your throat, occasionally nipping at your sweet spots to hear the sounds you made. 

“Such a pretty pussy.” Viktor was entranced by you. Loving how slick you already were. Practically dripping onto the counter beneath you. 

The pad of his thumb swiped against your clit, a tremor shooting through you. Then he inserted one of his fingers, drawing out a long moan. Jayce’s hands traveled up your body, warm palms groping your breasts. Squeezing them as Viktor continued to play with you. Inserting another finger, then curling them on that sweet spot inside of you. The loud moan you let out made the man’s cock twitch in his pants. His fingers continued to stroke at the spot, making sounds continually tumble out of you. Eyes rolling back as you felt him bring you closer to your peak. 

“Fuck, Jayce. She’s squeezing so tight.” Amber eyes looked over you. Already wrecked, arching back into Jayce. Mouth open and panting. “I bet you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” He crooned. 

“Mhmm.” It came out strangled.

“Do it, cum for us.” 

His words shoot electricity through you. Your pussy clenching against his fingers. Fluids covering his hand as you came. Continually moaning as you came down from the high. Thrusting against Viktor’s fingers, while grinding against Jayce’s cock. The man behind you holding your body in place, forcing you to take the overstimulating pleasure. When you whimpered, Viktor removed his fingers from you. Bringing them to his lips, sucking your essence off of them with a groan. 

He leaned up and offered his fingers to Jayce. The man gladly opened his mouth to taste the two of you. His tongue lapping at Viktor’s fingers with a groan. 

“Fuck, you taste good.” Jayce said, voice husky. He returned to kissing your neck. 

Viktor, despite having you rattle him internally, remained composed on the outside. 

“Now, let's try out the toy.” He said, grabbing it and pressing one of the buttons. 

He placed it against your clit, the vibrations unlike anything you had ever felt before. Pleasure coursing through you, practically making you scream. Gods, you were already cumming again. Your cum covering Viktor’s hand once more. 

His mouth was open in surprise at how quickly you climaxed. Cock twitching uncomfortably once again.

You relaxed into Jayce’s hold, unsure if you could take more. Based on the hungry gaze in Viktor’s eyes, he was going to make you. And you would gladly accept it. 

“Let’s try that again.” He said, turning on the device. 

The next time you came was less intense, but still left your body electrified. You were wet and sticky. Your spent coating your thighs and the countertop. 

“Jayce, why don’t we try what we discussed earlier.” Viktor said.

The man didn’t have to say it twice. Jayce excitedly pulled off his belt and scooted his pants and underwear down. Cock springing free against your ass. It was so hot, almost pulsating with want. 

“He’s going to fuck you, okay?” It really wasn’t much of a question. More like making sure you understood what was about to happen. 

The thought of Jayce filling you had your pussy gushing. You whined, pressing back against Jayce. The man letting out a hiss as you ground against him. He stalled your hips, easily lifting you up with his strength. Strong hands holding you in place as he lined his cock up with your entrance. Your slick dripping down onto his unbearably hard cock. 

Both of you whined as he slid you down his length. With how wet you were you took the man easily. Jayce’s hand reached around to your tummy, feeling him bulge through your stomach making him groan. 

“C’mon Jayce, fuck her.” Viktor stared at where you and Jayce were connected. Loving the way your pussy sucked up the man’s cock. 

Jayce didn’t need to be told twice. He forced you down his cock, making him moan. He was hitting you in places you had never reached before. 

“S-so tight, and wet. Mmph… why didn’t we do this sooner?” He whined out.

Suddenly, you both jolted as vibrations were pressed against your pussy.

“Shit V, that, that feels so good.” The man fucking you was practically drooling at the pure pleasure he was feeling. 

The sensations were turning you into a moaning mess. Jayce continued to force you down on his cock. Both of you feeling your climaxes on the horizon. You were sure you were going to squirt again. The pleasure was too much, but oh so addicting. These men were going to ruin sex for you, and you didn’t mind at all. 

“Please, baby. Please.” Jayce whined as he kissed up your neck. Leaving a trail of hickies against your throat. “Please cum on my cock. Need to. Need to feel you.” 

The vibrations and the man’s pleas made you shudder. White hot pleasure coursing through your body. Making you scream as you came, drenching his cock. Your plush walls clamping down on him made the man finish. Gritting his teeth and groaning as he filled you. The heat from his cum making you moan. His cock twitched with aftershocks.

Viktor removed the vibrator. He gazed over you and Jayce’s intertwined bodies. The man behind you grabbed your chin, making you face him. Hot lips captured yours, the kiss wet and debauched. Your pussy clenched around Jayce again, making him whimper in your mouth. 

He pulled you against his hard chest. Kissing all over your face and neck as you attempted to catch your breath. A very sweet lover he was. 

A cold hand on your thigh returned your attention to Viktor. The fun wasn’t over just yet. Through the fabric of his pants you could see his cock painful straining. 

“My turn.” Viktor said. 

Jayce shakily lifted you off of him. Groaning as he watched his seed drip down your thighs. Two long fingers swiped along your inner thigh, picking up the cum. Viktor placed them against your lips. You complied, trailing your tongue along his fingers, enjoying the taste of Jayce. Eyes fluttering shut in bliss. 

Viktor slowly stood up, and walked over to the couch the two kept in the lab to crash on. Sitting down, he shifted down his pants and boxers. Hard cock springing free, a bead of precum at the head. It made your mouth water. He grasped his dick and began stroking, eyeing you.

“Well, are you just going to sit there?” He huffed.

“I-I don’t think I can walk.” You said sheepishly.

He chuckled.

“Jayce, be a dear.” 

The man behind you nodded enthusiastically. Lifting you off the table, seating you on Viktor’s lap. Your overstimulated pussy grinding against his cock, making Viktor groan. His hands grabbed at your waist. Forcing you up, then down onto his dick in one swift motion. 

“Ah!” You gasped at the intrusion. 

Looking at Viktor you watched as the man’s eyebrows twitched from the pleasure of having you wrapped around him. 

“You feel so hot, so perfect…” He cut off with a moan as you lifted your hips and began to ride him.

“We should, should, should have done this sooner.” He groaned at the feel of you. 

His length making you whimper. Electric shocks sparking through you with each grind against him. With the little composure he had, the man slotted your lips against his. His tongue sliding against yours, making you moan into his mouth.

So much pleasure, too much pleasure. However, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Allowing yourself to fall into the bliss. Viktor’s hand reaching between your bodies, playing with your clit.

“Viktor…” You breathed. “You’re gonna make me cum… again.”

“Good.” He pecked at your lips. 

The look in his eyes along with a swipe on your nub, made you choke out a moan as you clenched around him. The heat in your belly was overwhelming. Yet you found your body couldn’t stop. Reaching for another high as you rode him like no tomorrow. 

“Again.” He groaned. “I need to feel you again.”

Nodding, you whimpered. 

Jayce was already hard again. Stroking himself as he watched you ride his partner. Biting his lip, he tried holding off cumming. The two of you were so hot. So much better than the man could ever imagine. He thumbed the head of his cock, then shuddered over as he came in his hand. 

“Viktor…” You whined.

“I know, I know. Cum for me.” 

And you did, another shudder making you clench around the man. The tightness forcing his own climax out from him. His cum filling you along with Jayce’s. The thought of having both of them in you making you clench around him again. Eliciting a strangled groan as Viktor’s cock twitched with aftershocks. 

The two of you came down from your final highs. Foreheads pressed together as you caught your breath. After a moment, you slowly lifted yourself off Viktor. Releasing a moan as his softening dick left you. His spent mixed with Jayce’s spilling out of you before you collapsed onto the couch cushion next to him. 

The only sounds in the lab were your labored breaths. You perched yourself on your elbows, taking in your surroundings. Viktor’s head leaned back against the couch. Jayce slumped over. Both men were looking at you, making your heart swell. 

“You could have just asked.” You breathed. “Not come up with some ruse to tease me with.”

“But what would be the fun in that? You make for a great test subject.” 

[goldfades]

hi sweet pea, could u write smth for Joe comforting his girl when she’s feeling insecure :( he has such a calm aura and grounding energy and I could rlly use some comfort rn

hiiii jojo, i hope you feel better sweet girl:( i hope this fic cheers you up!

You don’t mean to let it get to you.

You tell yourself that over and over again—like a quiet mantra, like a plea.

It’s just noise. Just people talking. Just opinions from people who don’t even know you.

But that’s the thing about insecurity. It seeps in through the cracks, finds you when you’re tired, makes a home in the quiet parts of your mind. You don’t even realize it’s there until it’s too late. Until it’s already gnawed away at you, leaving you feeling raw and exposed.

Tonight, it’s hitting harder than usual.

You’re curled up on Joe’s couch, legs tucked underneath you, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, even though every part of you knows you should stop. That little voice in the back of your head—the one that still craves validation, the one that wants to prove something—keeps urging you to keep looking.

And there it is. Again. The comments. The pictures. The comparisons.

It’s not new, not surprising, but somehow, it still manages to sting.

"She’s cute, I guess, but Joe could do so much better." "Why do athletes always go for mid girls?" "This is the best he could pull?"

You swallow hard. It shouldn’t matter. You know it shouldn’t. But suddenly, you feel small. Insignificant. Like a shadow of yourself.

You don’t notice how quiet you’ve gotten. How your posture has shifted—how your shoulders have curled inward, how your fingers have tightened around your phone. You don’t even notice Joe watching you from the other side of the couch, gaze steady, a crease forming between his brows.

He knows you. Knows when your mind starts spiraling, when you start retreating into yourself.

“Babe.” His voice is soft, low, cutting through the silence like a steadying force.

You don’t respond right away, blinking rapidly like you’ve just been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Joe shifts closer, his warmth immediately surrounding you. He reaches out, carefully tugging your phone from your grip, setting it aside before threading his fingers through yours. His touch is gentle, grounding.

“What’s going on?” His voice is calm, but there’s a weight to it, like he already knows. Like he’s just waiting for you to let him in.

You hesitate, teeth pressing into your bottom lip. Because how do you even say it out loud without sounding ridiculous? Without sounding weak?

Joe waits. Patient. Unwavering. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t push. Just sits there, his presence steady and sure, like an anchor.

And maybe that’s what makes you finally break.

Your throat tightens, and suddenly, you’re not sure if you want to brush it off or if you want to just let it all out.

You let out a slow breath, staring down at your hands where they rest in Joe’s. His thumb moves in lazy, absentminded circles against your skin, like he’s trying to pull you back to earth—back to him.

“It’s stupid,” you say finally, voice barely above a whisper.

Joe doesn’t react right away. He just watches you, waiting, because he knows you well enough to know that this isn’t where it ends. That there’s more.

You swallow hard, exhaling sharply before forcing the words out. “People online. Talking about me. Saying I’m not… enough.” The last word feels like a weight in your mouth, like it takes up too much space.

Joe’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, but his grip on you stays soft. His calm doesn’t waver, but there’s something in his eyes now—something sharp, something protective.

“Enough for what?” he asks, and it’s not rhetorical. He really wants to know. Because to him, there is no logical end to that sentence.

You shake your head, feeling the sting in your eyes. “For you.”

Joe exhales through his nose, and for the first time, his composure shifts just slightly. Not angry, not irritated—just frustrated. Not with you, but with the idea that this thought even exists in your head.

“Who the hell decides that?” His voice is still calm, but there’s an edge to it now. “Some random people on the internet? They don’t know anything about us. They don’t know you.”

You don’t say anything. Not because you don’t believe him, but because insecurity doesn’t work like that. You can know something isn’t true and still feel it wrap itself around you, still let it sink into your bones.

Joe studies you for a long moment before sighing, running a hand over his face before leaning forward. His hands find your thighs, warm and steady, and he tugs you closer—so close that your knees knock against his.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” he asks, voice quieter now, rough around the edges.

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”

Joe tilts his head slightly, considering you like you’re something worth studying. “The person I choose. Every single day.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly, grounding you. “The person who makes me laugh when I’ve had a shit day. The person who keeps me sane when everything else gets overwhelming.”

Your breath hitches.

Joe doesn’t look away, doesn’t let you. “I don’t care about what people say. I don’t care what they think they know. None of it matters. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

The simplicity of it, the certainty—it makes your chest tighten, makes something deep in you ache.

Joe lets his hands trail down your arms, stopping when his fingers find yours. “And if you ever forget that,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower, “I’ll just have to keep reminding you.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until Joe gives your hands a gentle squeeze, pulling you back into the moment.

His words hang in the air, soft but heavy, like they’re still settling into your skin. You feel raw, exposed—but not in the way that makes you want to shrink away. No, this is different. This is Joe pulling you back to yourself, reminding you of things you’ve always known deep down but sometimes forget when the world gets too loud.

Your throat feels tight. “Joe—”

“I mean it.” His voice is unwavering, his grip steady. “I’d tell you a hundred times if I had to. A thousand. Whatever it takes for you to believe me.”

You don’t doubt that for a second. That’s the thing about Joe—he doesn’t waste words, doesn’t say things just to say them. If he says something, he means it.

He leans in just slightly, so close that his breath fans across your skin, and suddenly, your whole world is narrowed down to just him.

“You’re the best part of my life,” he says, and it’s not dramatic, not over-the-top. Just a simple, undeniable truth. “And I don’t ever want you questioning that again.”

Your eyes burn, and when you try to look away, Joe just tilts your chin back up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. It’s unfair, really, how easily he unravels you. How he looks at you like you’re something precious, something irreplaceable, like there isn’t a single doubt in his mind that you belong right here with him.

“I just…” You exhale shakily, shaking your head. “I don’t get how you’re always so sure.”

Joe’s lips twitch slightly, like he almost wants to smile, but there’s too much sincerity in his face for it to fully form. “Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s all I need to know.”

Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you don’t trust yourself to speak.

Joe watches you carefully, fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your wrist. He’s always been like this—so patient, so steady, like he knows exactly when to push and when to just sit with you in the silence.

And then, just when you think he’s going to let the conversation settle, he tilts his head, studying you. “Come here.”

You blink. “I’m right here.”

Joe huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head before reaching for you, pulling you right into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arms loop around your waist, his chest solid and warm against your back, and just like that, everything feels a little quieter. A little smaller.

His chin rests against your shoulder, his lips brushing your temple. “There,” he murmurs. “Better?”

You nod, sinking into him, letting his warmth settle into your bones. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His fingers slip beneath the hem of your sleeve, tracing slow, soothing lines against your skin. “Because I’m not letting you go until you get it through your stubborn head how much I love you.”

You let out a watery laugh, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “So this is your plan? Holding me hostage until I have better self-esteem?”

Joe grins, and this time, it reaches his eyes. “Exactly.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and he knows it. He knows he’s won, that he’s already pulled you out of your head, out of that dark, suffocating space.

After a beat of silence, he shifts slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, voice dropping lower. “You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ve ever wanted. And no opinion from some faceless people online is ever gonna change that.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around his forearm where they rest. “Joe—”

“I love you.” He says it so simply, so effortlessly, like it’s a truth he never even has to question. “And I don’t want you wasting another second of your life wondering if you’re good enough. You are.”

You turn in his lap then, facing him fully, and the second your eyes meet his, something inside you finally settles.

Joe watches you closely, waiting, giving you space to say whatever you need to. But you don’t think there’s anything left to say.

Instead, you lift your hands to cup his face, fingers brushing against the sharp edges of his jaw, the warmth of his skin. You hold him there for a second, just taking him in, before leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Joe melts into you instantly, his grip tightening just slightly around your waist, like he never wants to let go. He kisses you slow, deep, like he’s making a promise without words. Like he’s telling you again and again, I’m here. I’m yours.

And for the first time that night, you finally believe it.

[evermoreness]

if you wrote somethin about flirting with boyfriend remus and he slips his hands in ur back pockets…..just sayin i’d love you forever

— Anon, you gave me such good ideas! Here it is, hope you like it.

back pocket | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't like much public displays of affection, but he still likes to put his hand in your back pocket.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

Hogsmeade weekends had always been something special. The crisp autumn air, the scent of butterbeer wafting from the Three Broomsticks, the distant chatter of students wandering from shop to shop—it was all perfect. But nothing made it better than having Remus by your side.

You and Remus walked side by side down the cobbled streets, the occasional brush of your shoulders sending warmth through you. He wasn’t one for grand displays of affection—no dramatic kisses in the middle of the street, no loud proclamations. But the way he loved you was in the small things.

Like now, when he casually slipped his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as you strolled past Zonko’s Joke Shop. It was such a simple gesture, but it made your heart stutter. He wasn’t even looking at you when he did it—just talking to you about some book he wanted to pick up at Tomes and Scrolls—but the touch was grounding, warm, undeniably intimate.

It was casual, effortless—just his fingertips resting in the fabric, his palm warm against you. Yet, the simplicity of it made your heart swell. Remus had never been one for grand displays of affection. He wasn’t the type to kiss you in the middle of the Great Hall or pull you onto his lap in front of the Marauders. But he had his own ways of showing love.

Like this.

Like the way he always made sure to walk on the outside of the path, keeping you away from the street, even if it meant switching sides every few minutes.

Like how he always carried your books when you were too tired, even if he already had a pile of his own.

Like how he always saved you a seat next to him, no matter where you were—class, the common room, the library.

Like the way he looked at you, like you were something rare, something he couldn’t believe was his.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the soft flush creeping up his neck. "Smooth, Lupin," you teased, grinning.

He didn’t falter, just raised an eyebrow at you. "Oh? You don’t like it?"

You hummed, pretending to think. "Didn’t say that, did I?"

His lips curled into a smirk, and he gave a gentle squeeze where his hand rested. "Good."

You nodded, leaning in slightly. "Hand in the back pocket, Lupin. That’s practically scandalous."

He chuckled, his grip tightening just the slightest bit. "Then I suppose I’m becoming reckless in my old age."

Unfortunately, moments of peace like these never lasted when the Marauders were around.

"Oi, Moony!" Sirius’ voice rang out, followed by his loud, obnoxious laughter. "Hand in the back pocket? Really? Are you two in a bloody romance novel?"

"Merlin’s beard," James groaned beside him, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "That’s even worse than when Lily and I hold hands in class."

"Nothing is worse than that, Prongs," Peter chimed in, looking between you and Remus with amusement.

Remus, however, remained completely unfazed. He barely even glanced at them as he continued walking, his hand still comfortably in your pocket. "If you lot are so interested in my love life, I could give you a very detailed report of my last few dates. Would you like that?"

Sirius gagged. "Absolutely not."

Peter chimed in. "Yes!"

James scrunched his nose. "Ew! What exactly is wrong with you, wormtail?"

"I'm just saying" Peter shrugged while the others laughed about it.

"Hey, baby" Lily appeared out of nowhere, hugging James. "Hey, everyone" She said, turning to give each one a little wave. James definitely lit up just by having her there.

"Lily, my love, finally!" James dramatized, kissing her cheek.

Sirius groaned dramatically. "Ugh, please, can you two flirt somewhere else?"

You grinned. "Oh, don’t be jealous, Black."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I would never be jealous of such a boring couple."

"Then shut up," Remus said simply, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"You’re both still gross," Sirius muttered.

"And you’re still single," Remus shot back, making you laugh.

James doubled over laughing, and Remus let out a quiet chuckle, his thumb grazing against your hip through the fabric of your robe. You shivered, not from the cold, but from the simple touch of it, the way he always seemed to know how to make you feel warm even in the autumn air.

"You want to go inside?" he asked softly, tilting his head toward the Three Broomsticks.

You nodded, and just like that, he guided you toward the door, his hand slipping away from your pocket only to rest at the small of your back. Another small thing. Another gesture that said more than words ever could.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded as usual, but the six of you managed to grab a corner booth. James and Lily sat pressed together on one side, while Sirius dramatically sprawled out beside Peter. You and Remus took the other side, you had to sit in his lap since there was absolutely no space left, your back comfortably against his chest as you both sipped your butterbeer.

"You do realize you’re using me as a chair, right?" Remus murmured, though his arms around you suggested he didn’t mind.

"You’re comfortable," you replied simply, tilting your head up to grin at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you love me," you teased.

Remus smiled against the rim of his mug. "That I do."

Lily, who had been watching with an affectionate smile, turned to James. "See? Why can’t you be that sweet?"

James put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Lily, love, I am a dream boyfriend."

"You’re an overgrown Golden Retriever," she corrected, though she was smiling.

Sirius snickered. "He really is. I bet if you threw a stick, he’d fetch it."

"You lot are just jealous of my charm," James declared.

"Of course, Prongs," Remus said, completely deadpan. "That must be it."

Lily leaned her head on James’ shoulder, laughing softly. "He’s lucky he’s cute."

"See?" James beamed. "She admits it."

The evening passed in comfortable warmth, laughter mixing with the hum of the crowded pub. You and Remus shared quiet smiles, your fingers tangled together under the table.

The walk back to Hogwarts was filled with the kind of easy, warm chatter that only close friends could have. The evening air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of butterbeer and the faint smokiness of fireplaces from the village. The sky above was deep blue, speckled with stars, and the group of you strolled along the path leading back to the castle, boots crunching against the gravel.

Lily was walking ahead with James, who was dramatically recounting a story about how he “heroically” saved a first-year from Peeves.

"So there I was," James began, gesturing wildly, "cornered in the Charms corridor, a poor, defenseless first-year behind me, and Peeves holding an entire bucket of ink over our heads."

"Defenseless?" Lily scoffed. "He was just standing there."

"Exactly! Helpless. So, naturally, I had to act."

"You threw your shoe at him," Remus said flatly, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"And it worked, didn’t it?" James argued.

"Yeah, after he dumped the ink on you first," Sirius snorted.

Peter cackled. "You spent the entire day looking like a human ink blot!"

"It was a small price to pay for the safety of my fellow student," James said with an exaggerated sigh.

Lily shook her head, though she was smiling. "You're unbelievable."

You laughed, nudging Remus. "I swear, they get worse every day."

Remus smirked but didn’t comment, just gently slipped his fingers through yours. His hand was warm, his grip firm but comfortable, like he was telling you without words that he was right there.

You glanced up at him, squeezing his hand. "You’re awfully quiet, Moony."

"Just enjoying the show," he murmured, lips twitching as he watched James and Sirius dramatically reenact the ink disaster.

Sirius was now pretending to be Peeves, floating around James with exaggerated arm movements. "Oh nooo, Mister Potter! You’re about to be—SPLAT!" He mimed dumping ink over James’ head.

James gasped, clutching his heart. "Betrayed! By my own heroism!"

"You weren’t a hero," Lily said, shaking her head.

James turned to Remus, looking for support. "Moony, tell her. That was a very noble thing I did."

Remus gave him a completely blank look. "You threw your shoe at a poltergeist, James."

"A heroic shoe," James clarified.

"You didn’t even get it back," Peter reminded him.

"That just makes it more heroic," James insisted.

Sirius clapped him on the back. "We’ll carve your name into a plaque. ‘James Potter, the boy who sacrificed his shoe for the greater good.’"

You giggled, leaning into Remus. "They’re exhausting, but I love them."

He smiled down at you, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. "Yeah, me too."

Sirius suddenly groaned loudly. "Ugh, you two are doing that soft, romantic thing again."

You raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And it’s disgusting," Sirius declared. "All this... hand-holding and fond gazes. I can’t bear it."

Remus smirked. "I suppose we could start snogging instead, if you prefer?"

Sirius gagged. "Absolutely not."

James looked thoughtful. "You know, it’s funny. A year ago, if someone had told me Moony would be the one out of all of us in a committed, disgustingly cute relationship first, I wouldn’t have believed them."

"Oi," Remus protested.

Lily tilted her head. "Really? I would’ve guessed him first."

James looked scandalized. "You would? Why?"

Lily gave him a pointed look. "Because Remus is the only one who isn’t an insufferable flirt."

James turned to you, looking for backup. "You don’t agree with that, do you?"

You grinned. "I love you, James, but she’s got a point."

Sirius snickered. "She really does."

James huffed, but Lily took his hand, smiling at him. "Oh, don’t pout. I love you even if you are insufferable."

James immediately perked up. "Really?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Don’t let it go to your head."

Peter sighed dramatically. "I feel like I’m the only sane one here."

"You, Wormtail?" Sirius laughed. "You joined in on the ink prank!"

Peter shrugged. "It was funny."

The castle loomed ahead, the warm glow of torchlight flickering through the windows. As you all reached the entrance, James sighed dramatically. "Well, another successful Hogsmeade trip. No detentions, no injuries—"

"You spilled butterbeer in your pants," Remus pointed out.

James waved a hand dismissively. "Details."

The warmth of the castle wrapped around you as the group made their way inside, the laughter and teasing gradually fading as the others headed toward the Gryffindor common room. James and Lily were still bickering playfully, Sirius was going on about how he could single-handedly take down Peeves if given the chance, and Peter was just shaking his head at all of them.

You, however, lingered at the bottom of the staircase with Remus, the flickering torchlight casting a soft glow over both of you.

You sighed, smiling up at him. "Well, I suppose this is where we part ways."

He made a small noise, almost reluctant. "Unfortunately."

You tilted your head playfully. "Oh? You sound like you’ll just wither away without me."

Remus chuckled, his hazel eyes twinkling. "Don’t flatter yourself."

You grinned, stepping back slightly. "Alright then, I’ll be off—"

Before you could turn, his fingers caught your wrist, pulling you back gently but firmly. You let out a small gasp as you stumbled a step closer to him. He wasn’t normally one to be so bold, especially not where others might see, but the entrance hall was empty now, and there was something in his eyes—something warm, something wanting.

"You’re not in a rush, are you?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "And what if I am?"

His lips twitched. "Then I suppose I’ll have to convince you to stay."

You crossed your arms, pretending to think. "Convince me, huh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Lupin?"

He hummed, as if considering, then with a slow, almost lazy confidence, he slipped both hands into your back pockets, pulling you flush against him.

A surprised laugh escaped you. "Oh, so that’s your strategy?"

His smirk deepened, but there was a soft pink dusting his cheeks. "Is it working?"

Your heart fluttered as you looped your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. "Mmm, I don’t know. You might have to try a little harder."

His thumbs rubbed slow, absentminded circles through the fabric of your jeans, and his voice was quiet but playful. "Demanding, aren’t you?"

You grinned. "Only with you."

He leaned down slightly, his forehead almost touching yours. "Lucky me."

You stared at him, your smile softening. "Yeah, lucky you."

His expression shifted, something tender replacing the teasing glint in his eyes. He didn’t always say how he felt, but moments like this, where he just looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, were enough.

"You know," you murmured, "for someone who doesn’t like public displays of affection, you’re being awfully affectionate right now."

He huffed a quiet laugh, resting his forehead against yours. "No one’s here."

"Still," you teased, "what happened to ‘I show my love in subtle ways’?"

His grip on you tightened slightly. "This is subtle."

You raised an eyebrow. "Both hands in my back pockets is subtle?"

He smirked. "Completely."

You shook your head, laughing. "You’re ridiculous."

"And yet," he murmured, brushing his nose against yours, "you love me anyway."

Your teasing grin softened. "I do."

His breath hitched slightly, and before you could say anything else, he kissed you. It was soft, lingering, like he was trying to hold onto the moment for just a little longer. You melted into it, fingers curling into his hair, savoring the warmth of him, the way he held you like you were something precious.

A smile played on your lips as you pulled your lips apart, your bodies nearly flush. "You, breaking rules for me? I'm honored."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "It's hardly breaking the rules. Prefect privileges, remember?"

"Oh, of course," you teased. "How could I forget? You’re the responsible one."

"Exactly," he murmured, his arms sliding gently around your waist. "And right now, I’m responsibly using my time to be with my girlfriend a little longer."

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you swayed slightly in his embrace. The torches along the corridor flickered, casting long shadows, but all you could focus on was the way he looked at you—like you were something precious, something worth bending the rules for.

"You’re soft, Lupin," you whispered playfully, fingers absentmindedly tangling in his hair.

His lips curled into a smirk, but he didn’t argue. "Only for you."

Your stomach flipped at that, heat rising to your cheeks. "That was dangerously sweet."

"Good," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "I meant it to be."

A comfortable silence settled between you, your bodies still pressed close. It was moments like this that made your heart ache in the best way possible—just the two of you, tucked away in some quiet corner of the castle, stealing time before curfew.

"You really don’t want to let me go, do you?" you teased, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face.

He exhaled softly, his fingers giving the tiniest squeeze against your hips. "Not really."

You bit your lip, warmth blooming in your chest. "You’re ridiculously cute when you’re clingy."

"I’m not clingy," he argued, though his grip on you didn’t loosen in the slightest.

You grinned. "Oh no? So what do you call this?"

He sighed dramatically. "Fine. Maybe I am a little."

You tilted your head, considering. "I think I like it."

Remus laughed, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you love me," you teased.

He smiled, the kind of soft, adoring smile that always made you melt. "Yeah. I really do."

You felt your cheeks warm, but before you could respond, the distant sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Remus sighed, finally, reluctantly, releasing you. "Go before Filch catches you out of bounds."

You pouted. "You’re no fun."

He smirked. "I’ll save you a seat at breakfast to make up for it."

You hummed. "With extra toast?"

"Obviously."

You smiled, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back. "Goodnight, Remus."

"Goodnight, love," he murmured, watching you go with that same soft look in his eyes.

And as you disappeared down the corridor, you couldn’t help but think—Merlin, you were hopelessly in love with him.

[makethemhoesmad]

Souls Aren’t Supposed to Attract on Accident

“I was never the villain. You just chose to believe your hero.” -Azzi Fudd

Read Azzi Fudd’s Long Awaited Interview here:

Interviewer(I): So, Azzi, as I’ve heard, this is quite the long story. Any specific place you’d like to start?

Azzi(A): I’d like to start at the beginning of the end. 2025-2026 college season

I: Alright, let’s start there.

A: Well, obviously I wanna clarify the rumors first. Yes, Paige and I dated from 2021 all the way up until April of 2026. That’s right, ladies. Your heartbroken star dumped me right after I’d won a second championship, and right before my rookie season.

~

“Aren’t you so proud of me, baby?” Azzi asks, gleefully dancing around in championship confetti.

“Yeah, babe, mhm. Listen, Az, can we talk?” Paige asks, placing her hands on Azzi’s shoulders to still her. 

“What’s up?” Azzi questions. She knows what’s coming, obviously. She just really doesn’t want it to happen the same night she’s just won her second natty in a row.

“I just don’t think it’s gonna work between us, y’know? Especially when we’re in the W and playing against each other so much. Right?” Azzi hates the way she words it like she’s fucking stupid, like she’s slow in the head. 

“Let’s just talk about this later, Paige. I want to enjoy this.”

~

I: Do you believe that breakup impacted your rookie season play at all?

A: If it did, it was only for the better.

~

“Do you really fucking hate yourself that much?” Azzi nearly shouts. Paige backs away, hands up as if she’s calming an animal, as though she hasn’t just rationalized a breakup being because of competition. They’ve been competing for years now. Is Paige just afraid Azzi will win?

“Are you really so mad I won that you’re going to end what we have? You’re never getting something like this again, Paige!” Still, Paige stands, stoic. Azzi grunts, frustrated, turning on her heel to leave.

“Your loss, Bueckers,” she calls over her shoulder. 

As she leaves the hotel she now knows why Paige insisted on booking, she vows that no matter what Paige does, she will always, always have to be second to Azzi.

~

A: Back to my last season of college. Obviously, Paige and I had just started the whole ‘long distance’ thing. It wasn’t too awful, because her season ended right when mine started, so we had time for each other. Sort of, at least. We fought quite a bit during that last season for me.

I: What changed when you went to the W, considering that the Valkyries and Sparks are much closer?

A: Part of it, I think, was Paige’s ego. She’s supposed to be this huge UCONN star, and in her five years there, she only won the natty once. When I did it twice, it pissed her off.

I: So you don’t believe distance played a part in it?

A: No. I think we could have easily made it through the physical separation, if Paige weren’t so damn jealous.

~

“Good game tonight, Paige.” Azzi says respectfully in the handshake line, nodding at her former teammate and love. Paige only grunts in response, refusing to meet her eyes.

~

I: So, 2026, your first meeting with the Sparks, and your team wins. In the post-game press conference, reporters ask Paige how she feels about your success as a rookie, and she declines to comment. Was this significant to you?

A: No. She didn’t want to say that I was having a good season, because my rookie season was going better than hers did. It would have been like telling herself I was better, and that would have torn her apart.

I: Right, because Paige didn’t win Rookie of the Year in 2025. Sonia Citron of the Indiana Fever did, because they were the WNBA champions that year. 

A: Exactly. I was already on course for Rookie of the Year at that point, but the previous year, all eyes had been turned to Olivia and Sonia.

I: And then, of course, we can’t talk about your first WNBA game against Paige without bringing up what fans dubbed the “repost war” started by current Washington Mystic KK Arnold and Ice Brady of the Seattle Storm.

A: Yeah, my old teammates reposting about being children of divorce. To be honest, I wasn’t all that fazed by it. I know Paige went off on KK for it once, but I genuinely didn’t give a fuck.

~

“Azzi, I wish you could still call Paige off like a dog,” KK laments, flashing her phone screen at Azzi. 

“Damn, all that for a repost about being a child of divorce?” Azzi says, squinting to read the string of profanity Paige had texted her former teammate. 

“Yeah, she’s gone off the deep end. Someone’s gotta help her.” 

“Well, it’s never gonna be me.”

~

I: And then nothing really happened at all, right? Not until 2028?

A: I mean, not to the public.

I: What do you mean by that? Anything to do with the 2027 news article titled “Paige Bueckers Spotted Outside of Valkyries Hotel”? 

~

“Azzi, you don’t know what you’re doing to me!” Paige screams, backing Azzi into the wall of her own hotel room.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, Paige? I don’t know that my rookie season was about a million times better than yours, and you’re too fucking weak minded to let me be happy about it?” Paige recoils at the defiance in her voice. She expected Azzi to balk at her fury, maybe try and lick her wounds. She never expected Azzi to fight her on it.

“That’s a lie and you know it. You know how the media spins things, Az. I just really fucking miss you. I’m going crazy without you, really.” Azzi scoffs when Paige kneels down in front of her, groveling like it would change her mind.

“Get up, Paige. And make sure you close the door when you leave.”

~

A: No, nothing about that. One of my teammates said they saw her in the lobby, but I never saw her.

I: Then the next year, you were both selected for the 2028 Olympic team. 

A: The funny thing about that was, it didn’t even cross my mind that she was also on the team until we had the first meeting all together. I was just so over the moon about getting chosen.

I: Was there tension at said meetings?

A: Maybe some, but when we got onto the court it fizzled out because even after all that happened we still worked together really, really well.

I: Yes, and of course the infamous “Is Pazzi Back?” article.

A: I didn’t even read it. Sonia, who’s now my teammate, showed it to me, and I waved it off. Wasn’t too concerned.

~

“So,” Paige says, wiggling her eyebrows at Azzi as she thunks down onto the cardboard bed they’re given to prevent intercourse between athletes. “Is Pazzi really back?” 

Azzi snorts at the absurd suggestion, even if some small part of her heart is screaming for her to say yes and throw herself on top of Paige. “Yeah right. I mean, seriously? They create a rivalry between us since I get drafted and the second we’re back on the court they think we’re fucking again?” Her voice shakes ever so slightly when she says again, unnoticeable to anyone except for someone who knows her well, body and mind. Like Paige used to.

“No offense, but I think I’ll stick to teammates this time,” Azzi scoffs, pointing Paige out the door.

“Aw, baby, you want me to beg? I can beg, you know I’m good at it.” Paige kneels down in front of her, remembering the way she was in this position in front of Azzi in a hotel room, about a year ago. Azzi must be remembering too, because she kicks Paige in the side and strides out of her own room.

~

I: Some critics said that Olympic team was one of the best ever, but when they look to credit players, they mention the Citron-Fudd connection almost more than the Bueckers-Fudd connection.

A: Well, yeah, Soni and I play well together. We’ve proven that over and over on the Valkyries.

~

“I’m getting a call from a blocked number, what the fuck.” Azzi gripes, showing Sonia her phone. 

“Answer it, you only live once.”

Azzi slides the call to answer, then hits the speaker button.

“Azzi, I swear to God if you’re fuckin’ that straight bitch Citron you better just own up to it now,” a slurred, familiar voices crackles. Azzi’s eyebrows raise, but she’s spent some time around Paige Bueckers and alcohol, enough to know exactly what she sounds like when she’s drunk and jealous. Sonia looks insulted, but before she can say anything, Paige speaks again.

“She don’t even make as much money as you, Az, so I don’t know why you’re even goin’ for her. I bet she don’t make your pussy feel the way I made it feel, huh?”

“Paige, you’re drunk. Fucking go to bed and call again in the morning if you still care.” Azzi ends the call, immediately beginning to apologize to the very insulted Sonia on her couch. 

“I’m so sorry she said that shit, bro, sometimes she just calls and says that stuff.”

“And you let her? Girl, I don’t know how you don’t slap the shit out of her when we play.”

“Maybe next time I will, you know, ‘cause we’re buddies again.”

~

I: Then, July 2029 when Paige went onto a podcast for an interview, she told the camera “yeah, never date your teammate”

A: I watched that, and nodded along. She was right, it wasn’t really going to do much for our careers, though I guess neither of us realized that until later.

~

‘Never date your teammate’ huh? Is what Azzi types into Paige’s Instagram DMs at midnight after watching that podcast episode. 

“No way she doesn’t even fucking open it,” Azzi curses to herself. She’s mad, obviously because Paige mentioned her a frustrating amount of times in that interview, considering she has a girlfriend to go home to now. Yep, cute little LA up-and-coming actress. She’s 5’2 on a good day, and the sweetest little bitch you’ll ever meet. One time, she had the audacity to comment ‘you’re so gorgeous’ on Azzi’s Instagram post. But Azzi obviously doesn’t care

~

I: Basically radio silence from you for quite a bit after that season, no one saw you doing anything until you commented on a fellow Valkyrie’s post.

A: I took a long break from social media, because I felt like the toxicity of it was hurting more than it was helping anything. When I finally did come back, it was because I couldn’t resist supporting my long-time friend Kate Martin and her firstborn!

I: It was right into this past season then, right?

A: Absolutely, I’ve always had a very championship-based mindset. I want to be the best, and I want to do it well. Nothing really messes with my head during the season, I just get so driven.

~

Paige messages back three months later, with a snide comment about Azzi being easily distracted. Azzi doesn’t justify it with a response. Really, she looks down on three-months-ago Azzi. She’s matured a lot since then. She’s deleted every media outlet from her phone, gone ‘off the grid’, buried herself in workouts. She tells herself it’s because her team didn’t make it to the finals this year, and that she needs to. It helps her sleep at night. Sometimes.

~

I: And now here we are, where we can finally talk about this year’s riveting WNBA finals. Neck-and-neck until the end, with you putting up some of your best performances.

A: I love to win. Anyone who’s close to me knows that. It’s my number one source of dopamine.

I: So I bet a win like that, over a team like that, must’ve felt really, really good, right?

A: Oh, it felt like I was riding the world’s best high.

~

The handshake line of the seventh game is an emotional roller coaster every year, opposing players hugging each other, cheering, sobbing, confetti. Everything is going both 100 miles per hour and seems to stop at the same time. 

But when Azzi catches that brief glimpse of Paige, leaning down so, so low to hug her girlfriend, she knows the celebration won’t be what she remembers most. For just a moment, she lets a long-suppressed memory play, of the 2025 National Championship. When they were teammates, when they ran to each other, instead of barely grazing hands and inclining heads in the handshake line, as if they had never met.

~

I: And that brings us to right here, right now. What are your future plans? 

A: As everyone knows, the WNBA free agency trading period always gets intense. This year, my team is rebuilding and recreating, moving people around. While I will always love the Valkyries, I’m making a change. You’re looking at a member of the Los Angeles Sparks!

~

Azzi scrolls through DMs in the hours following her interview release. Some congratulatory, some spiteful, some simply conspiratorial. One name catches her eye, nearly lost in a sea of words.

paigebueckers: Welcome to LA, Az.

January, 2031

___________________________________________ taglist: @purple-paige-purple @overtimenatalie @fuddfanatic35 @azzilov @ldapper @forpsheturnpesbian @rhyxanwaters @bu3ckersgirl @rosemariiaa @paigebaby5 @tndaqlwifwy

[ofbatsandballads]

so it’s a day early but have a little Valentine’s Day with Jason drabble except reader is a bit unhinged and very in love with Jason. inspired by me getting split knuckles and thinking “wow this would be so much cooler if I got them from punching someone.” also idc if damian is ooc here bc you can pry good brothers Jay and Dami from my cold, dead hands.

Jason Todd is used to fighting. He knows thrown fists, black eyes, and bloodied hands better than he knows himself. He’s been fighting so long that it’s second nature; sometimes he tires of the fight and sometimes he aches for it. It all depends on the day and his mood. Sometimes busted knuckles are a pain in the ass to clean and sometimes he enjoys the sting of a job well done.

Jason is used to seeing other people fight. It was the one constant in his formative years. He saw Gotham’s worst fight daily when he was a little kid doing his best to survive the city’s unforgiving streets. He saw Gotham’s best fight nightly and fought alongside him as a bright-eyed teenager. He sees his siblings fight routinely, knows how they do it like he knows the back of his hand. Dick is graceful; he floats through the air before he kicks you in the face. Tim is practical; he hits you where it hurts, seeks to destroy. Damian is ruthless; he toes the line between life and death like he was raised on it. He was; they both were.

Jason has not, however, seen you fight. Until tonight that is. Oh, he’s seen you argue before. You’ve got a smart fucking mouth—he loves it, even when it gets you both in trouble. But physically you’ve always been nothing but gentle and calm. He’s the one that intimidates, that scares off anyone who tries to flirt with either of you with his crossed arms and his face that screams “I’ll kill you”. Yet there you are in the middle of the ballroom where he left you, clutching your fist that has just connected with the nose of some CEO’s son. He freezes for a split second in pure shock. Then his brain comes back online and he’s trying to push through the crowd of people to get to you. His brother beats him to it. Dick picks you up around the waist and swiftly hauls you out of the ballroom.

Jason’s torn between running after you and cornering the guy you just punched to finish what you started. He doesn’t get to make that choice because a small but strong arm grabs him and yanks him hard toward the door that you just got dragged out of. He looks down and sees Damian, and something instinctual about this situation makes him follow wherever the kid goes. It wouldn’t be the first time Damian led him away from a fight and it probably won’t be the last.

“What the fuck just happened?” Jason asks his youngest brother as they wind through the mazelike halls of the penthouse.

“Well, akhi, your beloved just assaulted a man in the middle of father’s Valentine’s Day gala,” Damian responds coolly.

“Yeah, I kinda picked that up, saghir. Why did she assault a man in the middle of the gala?” Jason presses.

Damian bristles at the term of endearment. Jason can tell he’s about two seconds away from arguing that he’s not little anymore, Todd. He seems to consider your hitting a man a more pressing matter, though, because he starts to explain what happened. The guy you punched—some dude named Prescott—had decided it would be a good idea to flirt with you. You turned him down quickly and bluntly with a simple “No, I’m here with my boyfriend.” It all went downhill from there.

“He then asked who her boyfriend was, and when she said you, this imbecile asked why a girl such as herself would be with, quote, ‘a charity case like him’,” Damian relays with thinly veiled disgust.

Jason was used to comments like this. It was all he heard during the three years after Bruce adopted him. It used to make him mad or insecure, like maybe Bruce never truly wanted him. Maybe he just wanted to feel like he was doing something good. But then he died and came back. And he hated B for so long. Until he didn’t. Until he realized that maybe he never did, maybe he just wanted proof that his dad loved him and maybe he felt like he didn’t have it. But with time and patience and a lot of pain, he’s now reasonably assured that he’s not just some billionaire’s charity project. If that were the case, then Bruce would’ve stopped trying a long time ago with him. So the spoiled brat’s comment doesn’t really bother him. He knows that didn’t mean that it wouldn’t bother you, but he can’t figure why it would make you angry enough to deck the guy in the middle of a full ballroom.

“That’s it? She punched him for that?” Jason asks doubtfully.

“No. She first told him that he clearly lacked the empathy to even know what the word charity meant. She also made a snide comment about how his gala attire could, however, be seen as a charity case,” Damian chuckles, clearly amused by your silver tongue.

“Well what’d he say that made her hit him?” Jason demands, his anxiety starting to spike.

He had seen it happen, but he’d been mixing you your favorite cocktail and had missed the actual inciting comment. Damian pauses like he doesn’t want to tell him. All it takes is one hard look with those sea green eyes and Damian finds himself caving like he did as child in the League when Jason would catch him hiding from his newest (and soon to be deceased) sparring partner.

“He said that her tastes shouldn’t be counted considering she was with—” and Damian grits his teeth, forest green eyes absolutely seething, “damaged goods.”

Now that’s a different story. Jason doesn’t care what some privileged rich guy thinks of him, but the idea that other people could see what he already knows hurts. Jason knows he’s damaged goods, knows that you deserve far better than him. And apparently so do total strangers. So how long until you finally see it and leave him like you should have a long time ago? How long until the one truly good thing he’s ever had the pleasure of holding in his hands slips through his fingers and leaves him broken again?

“And then she broke his nose.”

Damian’s jubilant laugh shakes him from the angst he finds himself descending into.

“She what?” Jason asks dumbfounded.

“She broke his nose. I was standing right next to her, Todd. I heard it crack. You’ve trained her well,” Damian says proudly.

Jason’s in awe. You broke someone’s nose. For him. And you did it in front of a room full of people on Valentine’s Day. Jason’s sure this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for him. And either your love for him has finally settled into his bones or his new therapist is actually doing some good, because he’s suddenly not so worried about you up and leaving him because he’s damaged. You fucking clocked a guy for pointing it out.

Finally after what feels like far too long, Damian leads him to a bedroom tucked away in the penthouse. And there you sit, giggling away as Dick wraps your hand in an elastic bandage. You must’ve sprained your wrist breaking poor Prescott’s nose. Jason is by your side in an instant.

“Jason, there you are! Did you see what I did? Did you, Jay?” you ask enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I saw. Think you might’ve broken his nose, baby,” he teases.

He takes the bandages from Dick and starts to wrap your wrist himself. He gestures for his brothers to get the hell out and hopefully go clean up the mess that’s waiting down the winding hallways.

“That piece of shit deserved it. I would’ve hit him again too had Dick not dragged me away. Think I would’ve gone for his throat next,” you muse.

Jason wants to think he’s above finding this new violent streak of yours sexy. He’s also self aware enough to realize that he’d be deluding himself if he said it didn’t make him want to kiss you senseless.

“I’m sure he did, doll. That was very sweet of you, defendin’ my honor ‘n all,” Jason praises you.

“That was nothing. Child’s play, really. I would do anything for you, Jason. You’re my whole world.”

You say it with such sincerity, with so much love that Jason swears your eyes gleam with it. It makes his heart jump into his throat, makes his chest ache with the need to love you until the day that he dies. And if that day comes too soon? Well, he’ll drag himself out of the grave and come back home to you no matter what it takes. He’d like to tell you all that, but he thinks it might be a bit much. He settles for kissing you instead and nudging his nose against yours when you finally break apart to breathe.

“And you’re mine. C’mon, honey, let’s go home. Valentine’s Day isn’t over just yet.”

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Zae!!!!! (you know me, this is going to be long lmaooo)

That was so incredibly hot I'm not even kidding. I have so many things to say and it still won't do justice to how incredible reading Evanescence was.

First of all, I want to say just how funny that cut was between the woman from Doyle's Tavern insulting him and asking for money in exchange for information to Arthur walking out with said info, all his money and a ban from the Tavern?? Idk it just made me laugh out loud for real 😂. Alright, now more serioulsy—

"Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor."

Looove that section and the paragraph after. Fellow figurative lovers, we are spoiled. And Jesus am I completely insane for finding the whole thing even hotter with a bestial, animalistic Arthur like this? Perfect comparison.

And the whole ring part! Their entire relationship is SO well written and so well balanced. You had shared your doubts with me about how to write an LH, but my GOD, this was absolutely perfect. GIVE YOURSELF MORE CREDIT I'M BEGGING YOU!!

His intrinsic violence, his possessiveness that dominates him in spite of himself is so in character, and YET, we love it, we love him, just as always.

I so love all the nuances you described in both him and the Reader. She's aware of the problems in their relationship and wants to fight him; she refuses to make things easy for him and give him what he wants. She loves him and hates him so much at the same time... And Arthur, all his impulsiveness, his brutality make us think he's looking for control at all costs; in the end, it's just the only way he can react to the fact that it's him who's completely in love with her and under her thumb. Brilliant. The dialogue in this part is really perfect, with Arthur repeating the “Yours” more and more surely. *sighs*

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!” But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw. “No, dammit, cause you own me.”

And the wild kiss right after! The whole prey and predator game, so so good. You know I'm suuuuch a sucker for these kinds of comparisons. And the way they're fighting each other but getting closer at the same time... So, so erotic.

And EXCUSEEEE ME, Reader insulting him as they succomb to it? I am so into this. God it made my body feel all sorts of ways 🥵🔥

He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display. “Say you won’t go,” he choked out.  Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Oh. My. Lord. I could DIE from this simple vision. This is just incredibly hot and so good to read; I wasn't expecting him to actually be the dominated one here. (Big boys just want to be taken care of, don't they?🤭😉)

And Jesus, how do you achieve that Zae? Because the part after was even better!!! Honestly, I was already choking here, and then that:

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.”  “I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back.  “You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls.   “I–dammit–I–kn–know.” The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch.  “I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

I AM DEAD!!!! I loved this part so much I think I read it four times already!!! I mean come on guys, the dialogue, every word sounds so fcking good, perfectly transcribing his voice, making him spit out he's indeed too bad for her, and her stroking him like this, him babbling that he'll change? I'm getting all excited again just talking about it 🫠 This is definitely one of my favorite fic moments, ever.

And of course, as always, the grandiose climax, with once again the predator comparison but with HER as a lioness???? ZAE MARRY ME. This was absolute perfection. And even better, the second echo with him finishing inside, while she asserts "Yours". I just can't with that level of perfection, of masterfulness. This is mind-blowing, Zae. You really made me lose my mind with this one.

The last words also struck me; they are so relevantly bitter-sweet. An ideal ending for this nuanced relationship. You're forever inspiring me.

To conclude, one of my new favorites of yours (yes I knoooow every new one is becoming one of my favorites of yours, but hell I'm just a girl and you're still so incredibly talented!). I'm left in awe of your talent, every time, and here especially with such a subtle LH Arthur. Please, be proud, because you really did him justice. Bravo, bravo, bravo.

Love u! -Your loyal Piney 💞

Evanesce

Summary: You try to runway. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 3,673 Tags: angst, smut, mid-low honor Arthur, handjob, unprotected p in v, oral, breeding kink, tb? Don’t know her. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, toxic relationship

An: I feel like I ran a never ending marathon with this one. Drafted it a month ago, but I never really vibed with it. Challenged myself to just get it done and make sure I was proud of it. Once again, I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone. Shout out to @googoolies for the note idea! As always, I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Tagging @hihomeghere because you asked ❤️

Evanesce: to dissipate like vapor

Worn floorboards of Shady Bell wailed under Arthur’s weight as songbirds began their morning melodies. The gunslinger scoped the eerily empty, quiet camp for traces of you, but all he found was a folded letter on his pillow.

Echoes of your last conversation flashed in his mind as he tramped across the narrow room to retrieve the note. Two nights ago, The Old Guard overlooked their kingdom from the second-floor balcony as they discussed their plans to wage war against Angelo Bronte. Bile stung the back of your throat as two-thirds of the trio outruled the other. Hosea’s final words to Dutch and Arthur, “You’ll damn us all,” filled you with dread and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom.

Arthur avoided your shadowed eyes as he reloaded his weapons and ignored your outcry against Dutch’s plan. Your desperation had turned swiftly to indignation, and an argument commenced, your voices clashing like swords. You begged him not to go, pleading with the enforcer to listen to reason for once, to listen to you. But he pushed back with the shield of obstinance he had long forged for survival. 

“I don’t take orders from you, woman, and keep your goddamn voice down.”

Thousands of tiny needles pricked at the backs of your eyes at the harsh directive, but you held firm. 

“Arthur, if you go I’ll–” 

“Don’t,” he warned dismissively, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and ambling to the door. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye as he twisted the knob. Your last words fell on ears deafened from years of gunfire. 

“If you leave, I won’t be here when you come back.”

Two days later, Arthur masked his guilt with anger as he skimmed over the last piece of you left in the room. Four words in the polite loops of your handwriting taunted him: Saint Denis. Train. Running. 

After a quick check of the cinch, he found himself begrudgingly engulfed in the city of smog and greed he’d come to hate so much. Riding through the maze of cobblestone, brick, and vermin was like laying under a guillotine, staring up at the blade and waiting for it to drop. Law on every corner, people jammed together, and now, Bronte’s men out for revenge–none of it felt right. 

Taking in a breath that didn’t reach deep enough, he started his search for you in this hornets’ nest of a city. Most of the hotels and saloons served him with nothing but a heavy dose of adrenaline and dead ends. As he approached Doyle’s Tavern, his last stop, he dug his nails into his trembling palm, savoring the sting of apathy that came with the pain.

Arthur made a beeline to Gabe Doyle, reciting his rehearsed description of you. A woman standing beside him, whose garments had seen cleaner days, tapped him on the shoulder. The outlaw didn’t even look at her, didn’t give her time to speak before he rejected her with razor-edge disdain. When Arthur finished, Gabe only shrugged his shoulders, but the woman, still standing close by, let out a derisive giggle.

“He won’t be of no help, mista’. Coulda’ told ya’ for free, but it’ll cost ya’ now.”

Ire made his ears ring, drowning out all the other sounds in the slum’s saloon. He drummed his fingers hard on the worn wooden bar, the taste of pride sour on his tongue. 

“How much?” 

Cleavage spilled over her top as she leaned towards him and twiddled brazenly with the collar of his shirt. 

“Well, for clients that play nice, seven dollars, but for you, rotten dirty bastard––times it by ten.” 

A minute later, he exited Doyle’s Tavern not a cent lighter, heavy with an indefinite ban, but finally, a real lead on you. Four new mocking words overshadowed ones from the letter: Whore house; Courtenay Street. 

A brothel—a goddamn brothel. 

Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor.

They tried futilely to stop his march down the hall, tried to keep him from getting to you, but the chaos drew you into the colosseum and into the lion’s direct line of sight. You yanked the man-turned-animal by the sleeve and sealed yourselves away before he could do any more damage. 

More tame now, sea storm orbs surveyed you in a quick but covert once over, then he spun on his heel, searching for anything else to focus on.

“Christ, been looking for you all day, woman,” he bit out through clenched teeth. 

The lone wolf prowled the new territory for a threat but was only met with a vacant cave and the empty feeling of shame. Deflecting, he found your luggage, lifting the bags with the practiced ease of carrying buckets of water to and fro. His biceps flexed with the weight of your whole life in one bag, but he nodded at you, matter of fact. 

“C’mon. M’taking you home.”

Home. You could’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. None of these places had ever been home.

“I ain’t going nowhere with you,” you fired back, grabbing for the suitcase in his hand. A brief game of tug-of-war ensued, your grip relentless, Arthur’s unwavering, until he finally let you pull one of the bags free. He dropped the other and exhaled with the sharpness of a saber but stayed silent at the conclusion of your weaponless duel. He’d fallen in love with that gnawing defiance, but now it was tearing him to pieces, bit by bit until it exposed the marrow of pure anger.

“Runnin’ off is one thing.” His nostrils flared, and the timbre of his voice deepened as he carried on, “But running off t’here–– selling yourself?” He shook his head and blew air through his teeth, “Yer crazier than I thought.”

You whirled away from him, swatting your hand like he was as insignificant as a fly.

“And you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Ain’t selling myself, you damn fool! And I’ll do whatever the hell I please. Right now, I want to get far away from this shit city and you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, dragging out the words. “I know you just as well as you think you know me. If you wanted away–really wanted away–you wouldn’t’ve left this pretty little letter, and sure as hell wouldn’t’ve told me where to find ya’.” He retrieved the letter from his satchel, held it up just long enough for you to see, and crushed it in his fist before discarding it on the floor.

“That’s what I think of your pretty little letter.” 

You had started a slow involuntary backtrack during his monologue, the flight response pushing back against the fight. He followed, sandwiching you between himself and the door.

“Screw you.” Scorn was hot on your breath.   

Just as you thought to turn the knob, to free yourself from the prison of flesh and wood, the iron teeth of a bear trap, his fingers, clamped around your wrist, bringing your hand to eye level. 

“And you still got something of mine.”

Both pairs of eyes landed on a small round sparkling opal set in a gold band on your left ring finger.

You’d never forget finding it on your pillow along with a letter from Arthur that just said, “One day…”

He had made promises he didn’t keep. First, you just had to wait for the Ferry Job. Next, you needed to survive Colter. Then you had to get far away from the Pinkertons, and most recently, all you needed to do was help case the Lemoyne National Bank. One last job, he’d told you. It was the same thing he said before leaving for that boat in Blackwater.

Contempt flowed through your veins as you tried to wrench free. God, you hated him right now, but you hated yourself more for letting him fool you.

“Let go.” You hissed, seething. 

Your hand throbbed as he gave your wrist another squeeze.

“You first.” Then he nodded towards the stone on your finger. “My ring,” he demanded.

Your knuckles collided with the wood of the door with a hard knock as you freed your hand. You flattened your palm against the wood behind your back, guarding the ring from the career thief’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you shot back, sinking into yourself. “It’s mine.” 

Your finger throbbed around the ring you’d seldom taken off. It had become part of you, melded to your skin like a vine coiled around a tree in a beautiful and deadly embrace. 

“Yours?” he huffed incredulously, shaking his head, trying to form your words into something he could understand. For a short beat, the heavy huff and puff of his breath was the only thing you could register. 

You had mined forever to find something other than cold coals of anger within him. You thought you’d found it—thought you’d finally struck gold when he confessed his feelings for you somewhere out west all that time ago. Now, you were left wondering if it was only fool’s gold you had stumbled upon. The cowardly knight was far too proud and far too afraid of getting stabbed to lay down his armor. But you were having a silent conversation with those sad eyes, reading words he’d never speak or ask aloud. What does that make me, then? 

“Yours.” He answered his inner thoughts without hesitation.

Mine. You thought back but only stared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of cracking under his scrutiny. 

“Yours.” He repeated assuredly, final. 

It was your turn to shake your head now; you could hear his vocal cords vibrating, generating sounds you were supposed to understand, but he may as well have been speaking another language because what the hell did he know about being anybody else’s? You repeated your thoughts bluntly.

For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his hand shot out, cupping your jaw and tilting your face toward his. He was so close, you could smell him now. The scents of liquor on his breath and leather in his hat permeated your whole being.

“You don’t think–” His voice was low and trembling with fury. “I been yours since the goddamn day I laid eyes on you, and you know it.”

Fight, flight, freeze, and now fawn all warred for dominance. Twin mirrors of blue cosmos peered into your soul, but you didn’t look back, knowing that black holes of destruction ruled in the center and could swallow you in the blink of an eye.

“You have to go, Arthur.”

You tried to reach for the knob again, but Arthur imposed on you further, his chest brushing against yours. 

“No,” he said. “I ain’t going nowhere without you, and you ain’t going nowhere without me. M’done talking about it.”

It’s like he couldn’t listen, couldn’t hear you, couldn’t respect what you wanted. He only ever responded to shouting and violence. So you dipped down to his level, anything to get him to understand. Your open hand pushed full force against his chest, knocking the wind from him and making him stumble backward.

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!”  

But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw.

“No, dammit, cause you own me.” 

You balled your fists around cotton fabric and pulled him down into you, inhaling like you were bracing for the worst. This game, Predator and Prey, had become second nature to you. You would always be his fawn, thrashing and wailing, yet never escaping the salivating jaws of the coyote. And it always ended the same: a clash of heavy breathing and snarls before you surrendered.

Tobacco and whiskey never tasted so good, and they were just as addictive as him. Your teeth clashed together, and his left hand fell to your hip while his right twisted the lock on the knob. 

He was never gentle, but now, he was almost crazed. Rough hands that were trembling only an hour ago were all over you, gripping your jaw, sliding under your blouse, pushing and pulling you to his whim.

“Falling in love with you was the dumbest thing I ever did,” you confessed as he removed his hat and set it aside; he had better access to you without it. Heat surged through you as his hands bit into your hips, pinning you in place against the locked door. 

You mumble under your breath, “Bastard.”  

So far, he was ignoring your attempts to rouse him; you were his pretty little doe, caught in his chops, and a few barbs wouldn’t keep him from utterly devouring you. Dipping his head into your neck, he fixated on that pulsing artery, taking no time to roll the flesh between his teeth.

“Goddamn asshole,” you huffed but cradled his head as he claimed you.

He brushed over the ruptured blood vessels with his knuckles, and the bastard was smiling, eyes glazed over with lust and self-indulgence. Electricity sparked down your legs as he looped his fingers in the waistband of your skirt. 

You swore to yourself two nights ago that it was all over, that you wouldn’t let him slither back, yet here you were, Eve, being tempted by the serpent. Teeth sank into the forbidden fruit with the lift of your hips off the door, giving him permission to snatch both your skirt and bloomers down in a swift pull. Arthur didn’t need much persuasion to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; a man like him could have never lived for eternity in The Garden of Eden. 

The pair of you wore pride like heraldry, but neither of you was as honorable as you’d led the other to believe. You, provoking him with the threat of leaving, knowing you’d let this happen as you always did, and him never changing and never stopping the cycle of broken promises. 

Your scent was intoxicating, but he held off from relishing it, studying your face like he’d done many times before. Something was different this time, though. Only for a heartbeat, you saw something in his eye, a minuscule hint of vulnerability. You blinked, and it was gone like it was never there, replaced by an unabashed smirk. You kept the insults flying. 

“Jerk.”

Hearing the laugh rumble in his chest made your skin prick up the same way it did when a thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon. The cowboy braced his hands against your thighs and peeked up at you, his lips still curved in the corners.

He lifted his eyebrow in question, “You done?”

“Shut up,” you responded, tangling your fingers in his hair and guiding him, not so gracefully, to the heat between your legs. 

Obeying, he flicked his tongue out to lap at you, drawing you closer in a hug, his palms resting on the curve of your ass cheeks. Steadying yourself against the door, you tugged on his hair like reins, but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. You grunted and cursed under your breath as that gluttonous, greedy grifter feasted on you. 

Blasphemous sounds rose up from your chest as you rocked your hips feverishly with every swipe of his warm wet tongue against your clit. Every tug of his locs and bump of your mound into his nose sent blood pulsing full speed to the bulge in his pants. He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display.

“Say you won’t go,” he choked out. 

Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Instead, you ushered him back to his feet and crashed your lips into his again, tangling your tongue with his.

In a swift motion, you popped his suspenders loose while you walked him backward. The backs of his knees hit the bed, and he shimmied off his multiple layers just as quick as you unfastened the buttons on your blouse. You stood before him, a goddess, determining his eternal fate. And he waited, fixated on you, languidly stroking his engorged cock while you decided.

You replaced his fisted grip with yours, bending to meet his eye. The almost frown on his face made you wonder what he was seeing staring back at him. You imagined your pupils blown out, your lips swollen, and your hair disheveled. Arthur was the only man in the world who could turn you into a vixen. 

“You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan.” Your noses were almost touching as you tightened your grip and stroked him painfully slowly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded, his face downright solemn. 

“Mhm,” you went on, rubbing circles atop his hot, leaking pink tip. Your pace quickened as your cheek grazed his. A shiver ran through him as the vibrations of your voice tickled his ear.

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.” 

“I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back. 

“You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls.  

“I–dammit–I–kn–know.”

The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch. 

“I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

Air finally flowed back through with the halt of your pumping. The mattress sunk with your added weight as you slung your legs on either side of him. Neither party stalled. You gave him a quick nod before he could even ask, and he sank his length into your warm, wet pussy. There were no hushing kisses, no waiting for you to adjust, no cajoling, just the smacking of skin and the aroma of sex in the room as he molded you to his girth. Bashfulness had never even crossed your mind. You rode him tirelessly, whimpering, gasping, and filling the air with his name. 

The roles reversed; you were the animal now, a lioness pursuing a buck. Chasing the high, you galloped hard and fast and grinding your hips against his to relieve the throbbing ache in your clit. You massaged the sensitive nub between your thighs, indulging in the pleasure you were giving yourself and receiving from him. The tip of his cock bumped that sweet spot inside of you, the one that made you tense and cry out over and over again. 

You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know what he was doing to you or how he was making you feel–how he always made you feel when he was burrowed deep inside of you. You couldn’t hide from him, though. He knew you–knew the faces and sounds you made, knew the way you tightened around him, knew how you stiffened, knew how your breathing shallowed when you were on the edge. He knew the control he’d have over you forever.

“You ain’t going nowhere.” He grunted as he pounded up into you, the knot in his stomach tightening with his own upcoming release. 

“Fucker,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and you love it.” 

You couldn’t deny it.

He took your hand in his and felt for the ring on your finger, stroking it, all while keeping eye contact and hammering relentlessly into your velvety walls. Four more thrusts and your eyes rolled back as the lightbulb of tension burst.

“That’s right, let it go, there it is.” Muttering, his upward ruts got sloppier as you rode out your body-spasming orgasm. Then he started babbling, lost in your sweet heat,

“Shit, I’m–bout t–m’close.”

The cowboy tried to lift you up, tried not to spill inside of you, but you buried your head in the crook of his neck and lowered yourself back down, taking him balls deep.

“Goddamnit,” he growled, hugging you to his chest, “the hell you doing, t’me, woman?” He panted and stared up at the ceiling like a man condemned. 

“Ain’t going nowhere,” you echoed breathlessly, still bouncing, before adding, “Yours.” 

In a few more strokes, he filled you up, grunting through his teeth and cursing up a storm that’d make even the most seasoned sailors look on timidly.

Outside noises of the establishment and the streets of Saint Denis droned back in as both of you came back to your senses. An ocean of things was left unsaid as you redressed and let Arthur lead you out of the room and to a proper hotel for the night. The next morning, you took Arthur up on his offer to get away for a few days. As the train you had boarded for your trip chugged on, something in the distance piqued your interest, a small homestead. You could vaguely make out a woman sitting on the porch and a man, presumably her husband, tending to a horse nearby. Of course, you didn’t know their life or their struggles, but if you could write your own happily ever after, it would be that. Arthur nudged you with his elbow, interrupting your daydream.  

“M’sorry...about everything,” he said, low, barely audible. The perpetual ache in your chest had almost gone numb after so long. Almost. 

“I know.” You replied and turned back to the window. The house was out of sight now, and you had a feeling your fairy tale ending had vanished with it.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hi!! Could you please write like woozi x sister of another seventeen member like she is older to her brother so she is his noona but she is the same age of woozi, her brother could be from the maknae line like starts from 1997 to 1999 so yeah I don't if you can understand that lol 😭😭😭😭 maybe they're together since pre debut but their relationship became public just recently something like that hehehe THANK YOU!!!

The Secret Between Us | idol!Woozi x Reader | angst, fluff

Y/N had always been able to read Woozi like an open book. It was one of the things she loved most about him his honesty, his vulnerability, his openness. But lately, that openness had been replaced with a quiet distance that Y/N couldn’t ignore.

It had been a couple of weeks since their relationship had been made public, and the weight of the spotlight was clearly starting to affect him. She could see it in the way he would retreat into himself, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, the way his usual calm composure seemed slightly off. Tonight, after another long rehearsal, everyone was winding down, but Woozi wasn’t with the group. Y/N noticed he had slipped out of the room, retreating to a quieter corner.

She stood up and walked toward him, her heart beating faster with each step. She didn’t want to invade his space, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Woozi?” she called softly as she approached him.

He didn’t look up right away. His eyes were focused on the floor, his fingers tapping nervously against his knee. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice not quite matching his words.

Y/N frowned, sitting down next to him. “No, you’re not. What’s going on?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, it seemed like he was trying to find the right words, but when he spoke, his voice was low and full of hesitation. “It’s all happening too fast, Y/N. The fans, the attention... everything. It feels like there are more eyes on me now than ever before. And it’s just too much. I... I don’t know how to handle it.”

Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d known the public eye was hard on Woozi, but she hadn’t realized how much it was affecting him. “Are you saying... are you saying you want to end things?” Her voice was shaky with panic, her mind racing with the worst possible outcome. “Is that what you mean?”

Woozi’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What? No!” he exclaimed, looking horrified at the very thought. “How could you think that? I would never—”

Y/N cut him off, her breath coming faster now. “But you’re pulling away from me, and now you’re saying everything’s moving too fast. I don’t know what to think, Woozi. If you’re saying you can’t do this anymore, if you don’t want to be with me—”

“No, no, no,” Woozi interrupted, reaching for her hand, his touch warm but trembling slightly. “I’m not saying that. I could never say that. It’s not about you, it’s about everything else. The public, the media... I just... I don’t want you to be in the spotlight like this. You’re becoming a target, Y/N. And I can’t protect you from it.”

Y/N blinked, still not fully understanding what he meant. “What do you mean? I don’t... I don’t want to be kept in the shadows, Woozi. I want to be with you. I want to be by your side. But if you’re asking me to step back because you’re worried about the attention... I can’t do that.”

“I’m not asking you to step back from me,” Woozi said, his voice softer now. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want people to treat you like some... trophy or prize. I can handle the pressure, Y/N, but I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you because of me. You deserve better than to be in the center of all this chaos.”

Y/N took a deep breath, processing what he was saying. “So... you’re not asking for space from me. You’re just asking me to protect myself from the world, to not put myself out there as much?”

“Exactly,” Woozi said, his shoulders sagging in relief as he looked at her. “I don’t want you to have to deal with the kind of pressure I’m facing. It’s not fair to you.”

Y/N sat back, her heart still racing, but her thoughts starting to calm. She understood now. It wasn’t about their relationship or Woozi pulling away from her—it was about his desire to protect her, to shield her from the harshness of their world. It wasn’t an easy request, but it made sense.

“You don’t have to carry this alone, Woozi,” Y/N said softly, her hand still resting in his. “But I get it. I understand why you’re worried. And if this is what it takes to make things easier for both of us, then I’m okay with it. I’ll step back a little. I don’t want you to feel like you have to protect me all the time. We can still be together, but we don’t have to flaunt it for the whole world to see.”

Woozi’s eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Y/N leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “I just want you to be happy, Woozi. And I want to be there for you, no matter what.”

They sat in silence for a moment, just holding onto each other, the weight of the conversation slowly lifting as they both processed what had just been said. For the first time in days, Y/N felt like they were on the same page again, like they were truly understanding each other.

The next few days passed in a blur. Woozi and Y/N continued to spend time together, but they kept a low profile, avoiding too much public attention. They made small changes to their routine, intentionally staying away from places where they might be recognized or photographed. It wasn’t about hiding—they weren’t ashamed of their relationship—but it was about reducing the noise, making things a little more private.

Mingyu, of course, had his own opinions about it. He’d noticed the change in Y/N and Woozi’s behavior, and he wasn’t shy about teasing them.

“So, you two are playing the ‘low-key’ card now, huh?” he said one day, leaning against the doorframe of their practice room. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re still obviously together.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’re just... being careful, okay?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “Careful, huh? Well, I guess if you want to keep Woozi safe from all the craziness, that’s your choice.” He paused for a moment, then added with a grin, “But you know, I think it’s a little suspicious that every time we see you two, you’re looking like you just walked out of a romance movie. Like, the way you look at each other... it’s honestly sickening.”

Woozi shot him a glare, though it was softened by the small smile tugging at his lips. “You really need to stop being so dramatic, Mingyu.”

Y/N laughed, feeling a sense of lightness she hadn’t in days. Even though they were still under the public’s watchful eye, they were finding their balance, adjusting to the new reality together. They weren’t hiding; they were just protecting what mattered most to them.

[essycogany]

Sonic And Amy Are A Unique Couple

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay creative! 💜

[camerahaterlittle]

As the rivalry grows, so does my heart

Real Madrid x Reader

Barcelona Femeni x Reader

Social media au one shot/possible series

Yourusername: life recently! Gone from dates to games can’t complain

Liked by atheeneeaa_10, marisabel_rguez, ingridengen and 2,820 others

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ingridengen: loved our double date

Liked by yourusername

bff1: thank you for making me feel single

↳ yourusername: No problem love

atheeneeaa_10: love seeing you so happy

↳ yourusername: ☺️☺️☺️

marisabel_rguez: who won the uno game

↳ yourusername: me obviously I’m the undefeated champion

brunavilamala: best competition

Liked by yourusername

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yourusername: small getaway absolutely no trouble in paradise

Liked by janafernandez3, ona.batlle, gio9queiroz and 2,100 others

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vickyylopezz._: hmm I wonder who took those pics

↳ esmeebrugts: same do tell who took them

claudiaapina: barcelona’s just better

↳ yourusername: nope madrid is better

cocobatlle: bring scout over I miss her

↳ scoutsworld: I’m coming whether our moms like it or not

alexiaputellas: ❤️💙

Liked by yourusername

madridvsbarca: the outfits always hit

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yourusername added to their story

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yourusername: “yeah i got my girls” you’ve never been more real Rachel

Liked by jennihermoso, alexiaputellas, _cata13 and 1,325 others

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jennihermoso: no photo credits the disrespect

↳ yourusername: now your stealing my saying that’s crazy

alexiaputellas: be safe please

↳ yourusername: how am i supposed to have fun if i’m being safe

↳ _cata13: yeah alexia there’s no fun in being safe

janafernandez3: best day and night of my life

↳ yourusername: agreed I had the time of my life

atheeneeaa_10: I could barely breathe in that last picture

↳ marisabel_rguez: me either I don’t know why we chose to be the firsts on the ground

bff2: remind me to never drink that much again

↳ yourusername: oh but why everyone loved your singing and rants on beth mead

↳ bff1: so much that the uber driver dropped us off five stops before your house

↳ yourusername: literally the best friends ever thank you for helping me forget what they did

gio9queiroz: why wasn’t I invited

↳ yourusername: you said after our last club stop to never ask again since your hangover lasted longer than it should’ve

↳ gio9queiroz: I didn’t mean it I actually had fun next time invite me

↳ yourusername: yes ma’am

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yourusername: I’m a simple girl. I love sharks and fishes.

Liked by bff1, vickyylopezz._, olgacarmona7 and 2,290 others

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olgacarmona7: okay you need to start giving photo credits

↳ yourusername: but why that’s so much more to type

vickyylopezz_.: yet no one to take you

↳ ingridengen: too soon vicky too soon

↳ vickyylopezz_.: sorry thought it was time

gio9queiroz: warning everyone she will talk your ear off about every shark and fish she sees

↳ olgacarmona7: your a little late with the warning gio she talked mine and misa’s ears off

↳ yourusername: I did no such thing you guys willingly listened

y/nswifey: someone take her to an aquarium now! or take her to a place that let’s her swim with sharks

↳ yourusername: I wish but no one will take me

alexiaputellas: why are you so interested in these underwater creatures

bff2: I’m still surprised that you chose being a footballer over being a marine biologist

↳ yournameuser: being marine biologist is my backup career

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alexiaputellas: thank you to whoever got her this shark you put a smile on her face tagged: yourusername

Liked by claudiaapina, esmeebrugts, albaps9 and 2,789 others

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claudiaapina: where’s my shark plushie

↳ yourusername: clearly the person only likes the calm ones

↳ claudiaapina: hey! your anything but calm

ablaps9: only y/n would be so happy about a shark plushie

esmeebrugts: I wonder who got her that plushie

↳ vickyylopezz._: same I wonder if they’ll continue with this shark stuff

ingridengen: at least she’s smiling right

Liked by alexiaputellas

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Sorry for the super short fic this is just to get me started on here anyways who do you guys want to be the love interest I was thinking Gio but it's up to you guys

[holyguardian]

The surprise on Somnus' face was refreshing. Aerith wore a gentle smile as he reassured her, as though what she asked of him was the least he could do. How could she be so lucky? Their marriage had been... accidental. Unplanned. Yet fate decided despite all the mess, she would end up with a good man. The best.

"I don't want this to be a dream that I wake up from." she admitted. "You are good to me, I'm not arguing that at all... but... when months stretch into years, and when this new feeling is long gone... I still want to feel like I am important to you. You grew up around nobility. I'm sure you have seen it, where political marriages don't always have... basic respect." Or kindness, let alone love.

She could have said more. So much more, but it didn't feel like the right time. If she insisted to him that he was everything she dreamed of, it would sound a little forced when it was said alongside her demands. She was afraid of losing what she had with him, it would be a cruel trick now if he turned around and became a different man.

Then Somnus glanced down. Grinned, though it was only a mask, not a genuine expression as he claimed to not have a list.

"... go on." Aerith softly encouraged. He must have something he would ask of her. She stepped a little closer, her expression open and earnest as she regarded him.

That sudden wish was a little surprising. It caught her off guard, if only for a moment. Her own gaze softened as she continued to listen to his explanation, he wasn't demanding obedience, he was simply asking to be given the benefit of the doubt.

"I promise, I will listen. Maybe... there will come a day, where we have a spectacular disagreement that blazes new fires, but after we cool off, even then I promise to listen to you." It was a distant thought, but she realised this probably had something to do with Lucis.

That afternoon at the forum. How Somnus was so unphased by harsher comments, how he claimed his reputation was something that could not be saved. She hadn't forgotten those little facts at all. Instead she thought them even more absurd, the closer she grew to him. It didn't make any sense.

Aerith lifted her hand from his, instead cupping his face, coaxing him to look at her again. "There are some things that we don't ask of the Gods. I'm glad we can ask each other, though." Being vulnerable was surely better than being silent.

Aerith’s wishes were all… so very reasonable. There was no longing for grandiose tasks or demands of him to elevate their titles beyond what they already had. She did not wish for him to go into war and expand her queendom. She did not order him to maximize their luxuries and riches…

She simply wanted to be recognized. With all her likes and dislikes. With what was important to her. She just wanted one thing from him: decency.

It painted a little surprised look on Somnus’ face, tilting his head slightly.

He would not have to recall her list and memorize it – because he had already planned to do these things. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And maybe that was what made all this seem so confusing. Who, in their right mind, would not want to do these very little most basic things to make Aerith feel appreciated?

"That can not be all, right...? This is the most basic kind of respect you could even ask for... of course I will do all that. And more. Am I not already? I knew about your fores banquet within a few days..."

Somnus would not even question that she did the same in return.

And it made him feel… weak. Warm. Defenceless and vulnerable in her eyes. But not mixed with the usual wariness and fear. There was a tinge of that left over still. She still did not know his darkest secret… and a part of Somnus hoped he would never learn about it. Because… what if then she was as repulsed as others?

His fingers shifted slightly beneath hers, Somnus looked down to their hands instead of her face. As if he did not want to see her reaction directly. His own list? That was… foolish.

A vague grin pulled at his mouth, though it looked forced this time.

“I… do not have a list.”

That was true. He had not even thought about it up until he had stumbled into this conversation. But now that he had started their little game of unveiling and opening up, Somnus guessed it would be unfair of him to pull back. And had she not already proven herself to be kinder than anyone else he had known up till now?

“I would like you to listen.”, it was sudden, how that wish came out of him. It had lingered beneath his mind for years. Even if the wording sounded strange. Somnus knew he had to elaborate. A small sigh, before he continued.

“Not in the way of… listening to what I demand or order. No. In the way you listen to what others say. What they experience… and feel. Many people only listen to one side and then stop. I wish that you always listen to my side, too. And to only then judge what I do. Or how I am. And talk to me. Always.”

[dailynnt]

♡⃟࿔ BETWEEN FEIGNED HATRED AND REAL DESIRE ♡⃟࿔

𑁤 Summary: You can't stand Jungkook, your brother's arrogant, cocky friend who is just waiting for an opportunity to annoy you. He always finds a way to get under your skin, and you were sure that what you hated more than him was the idea of having any feelings for him. But one accident changes everything. Left with him in a locked, cramped room, where every breath is a fire between you two, you realizes that you hatred has always been hidden behind something deeper. Something that cannot be denied, cannot be ignored.

𑁤 Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook • Y/N

𑁤 Age restrictions: 18+

𑁤 Size: one shot

𑁤 Tags: best friend brother, school au, y/n Hoseok sister, from enemies to lovers, sexual tension, unprotected sex, detailed description of sexual scenes, swear words, slightly domJK.

𑁤 Dedication: A late Valentine's Day gift 💘 @myjungkookthighs, @kelsyx33, @someoneelse0109, @mskookie, @kooccult, , @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @rispwr, @kooko007

𑁤 From author: Another of my fantasies that resulted in this, in my opinion, an interesting work. It seems that there are many such works, but you know each author writes in his own way 🥹💕 Therefore, please enjoy, this is a gift ( 🤫 Late gift) for Valentine's Day 💞🫶🏻💜

Your story seems is typical. You hated one of your brother's best friends. All five of the Bulletproof boys on your school's volleyball team were just perfect.

Namjoon, tall, strong, and very smart. Jin is tall, funny, and handsome. Yoongi is quiet, talented, and can always talk to you about anything. Jimin is cheerful, charismatic, and has a subtle sense of humor. Taehyung was synonymous with the word beauty, he was cute but also a tomboy.

And him. Jeon Jungkook. He was a walking nightmare who was hotter than fire, but had a temper that pissed you off. His favorite thing to do was to tease you. He would do just that when he came to your house to hang out at a party thrown by Hoseok, your brother, or when you were having lunch at school with your brother and a whole bunch of his friends sat down with you. Jungkook was always there. And you were literally sick of him.

There was tension between you because your conversation always ended with you screaming and wanting to scratch his face.

Today was Valentine's Day and you hated it. Why? Who wouldn't hate those sweet couples in love who kissed or hugged each other almost everywhere they went? Why are they so annoying on this particular day?

Physical education is over, the last class of the day. You took a shower and went to the locker room. The girls were all gathered together, talking, joking about Valentine's Day.

"Girls, let's each say who we would like to fuck today?" - Kim Sora, who was your bestie, suggested. Only the girls from your company were left in the locker room. They were all mostly cheerleaders, but you weren't. "I'd like Namjoon." - She says first. Everyone laughs and Hewon and Seolha say they would like Namjoon too.

"And I would like Yoongi. His aloof and almost bored behavior turns me on so much. I would know how to make him feel better." - Sejong says, and you burst out laughing. She's had her eye on Yoongi for a while now, but he's not paying attention.

"God, I can't decide between Taehyung and Jimin. They're both so hot, can I have both?" - Sumin asks. You laugh again as you put on your sweatpants. You look at yourself in the mirror.

"Y/N hope you'll forgive me, but I'd like to fuck your brother." - Arin says. You turn to her and grimace.

"Goshhh, Arin, I thought you had better taste." - The girls laugh, but you don't. You genuinely don't understand what girls find sexy about your brother. But fortunately, you don't have to.

"And you're Y/N? You're the only one who hasn't said yet." - Arin laughs and all the girls pay attention to you. You are a little nervous about their attention, and you walk back to the bench where your T-shirt was lying. You put it on.

"I don't know, I don't think I'm interested in any of the Bulletproofs." - You say casually.

"No, you're a liar." - Sora says, and you turn a sharp look at her. You raise your eyebrows. No. She's not going to tell you about him. "Girls, do you know who she dreams of fucking?" - Sora smiles slyly.

"Don't you dare talk about him." - You threaten your bestie , who breaks into an even more evil smile. All the girls squeal almost in unison.

"Who? Who is it?" - Arin squeals.

"Who is our impregnable ice queen dreaming about? Is it Yoongi?" - Hewon asked.

"Hey, Yoongi is mine!" - Shouted Sejong.

"No, I don't want your Yoongi!" - You said. You hurriedly started to pack your things so that you could run away before Sora said anything about him.

"No, it's not Yoongi." - Sora said. She was silent for a moment. You gave her an angry look and said with one lip, "I'm going to kill you." "It's Jungkook." - Sora finally said, and everything broke inside you. All the girls gasped.

"Jungkook?" - Hewon shouted out. "She hates him just as much as he hates her."

"I don't want him." - You said harshly. All the girls stared at you. "I barely live on the same planet as him, and you're saying this." - For some reason you were trying to justify yourself. And when you realized it, you decided it was better to leave. "Don't say stupid anymore like that. I'm going home." - You said more calmly. You stopped at the threshold and turned to Sora. "Sora, you are in trouble." - You smiled sweetly and hurried away.

You were so angry. You couldn't stand Jungkook, how could you want him? He was so horrible. You walk away with quick steps, clutching your bag. Your chest burns with anger mixed with shame. How could she do that? How could she say that out loud?

You raced down the path from the gym, clutching the straps of your bag so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your heart was pounding and your cheeks were burning. Jungkook? Was it him? Why the hell would Sora say something like that in front of everyone?

You stopped, took a deep breath. You never want him. You can't stand him. He's been annoying you since the first day you met him. He's arrogant, self-confident, always sure of his own attractiveness.

And for some reason... You stopped abruptly when you saw him. Jungkook stood next to his motorcycle, wearing a black T-shirt that fit his muscular body and above it black bomber. He was twirling his helmet in his hands, and his eyes slid over you as if by accident.

Your face flushed even more. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?" - He said, smiling slightly. You took a step back in confusion.

"Nothing!" - You answered too sharply. His smile grew wider, almost impudent.

"You look..." - He tilted his head, studying you. "Tense."

"Go to hell, Jungkook." - You gritted your teeth and tried to walk away, but he quickly grabbed your wrist. You froze.

He took another step closer, leaning in so that you could smell his perfume. For some reason, your heart started pounding furiously.

"Wait." - He purred.

"Are you crazy? Let go of me. What do you want?" - You hissed, trying to pull your hand away, but he only squeezed your wrist tighter. His eyes darkened and a strange pleasure appeared in his voice.

"By any chance, were you thinking about me right now?" - His voice was as mocking as ever.

"You…!" - You choked with anger.

"Because you blushed." - He added hoarsely. Something tightened in your chest. You going to kill Sora.

"If you don't let go now, you'll lost your golden bells." - You threaten, and your face expresses absolute anger. He laughs, but lets go. Because you usually keep your words. You give him a scorching look and walk home.

You get almost home, and when you want to call your oppa, you are horrified to realize that there is no phone. You dig through your pockets and search your bag, but it's not there. Damn it, you must have left it in the locker room.

You swear about everything, cursing this day, and go back to school. It takes you at least 30 minutes to get to the locker room. Almost no one is in the school anymore. You look for your phone, but it's nowhere to be found. You swear again and try to figure out where you could have left it. You desperately searched for your phone in the locker room, under the benches, in your things. But it was nowhere to be found. Fuck!

You exhaled loudly and ran a hand through your hair. Someone must have found it by now and taken it away.

"Looks like that girl has sown something again." - You flinched at the familiar voice. You turned sharply to find Jungkook standing at the door, arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you want?" - You asked abruptly. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I saw you running like a madman. I figured you were in trouble again." - He said bored. But his gaze was absolutely focused on you.

"I'm not in trouble!" - You were indignant.

"Yeah, you're just running around grumbling to yourself." - Jungkook said with a slight smile. You rolled your eyes.

"I just left my phone here." - You said, irritated. Jungkook shrugged again, but suddenly started walking around the locker room, looking under the benches. You raised your eyebrows and watched him. "What are you doing?" - You asked.

"Helping you find it." - He said looking at the windowsill.

"I didn't ask you to. Get out." - You say harshly, turning away from him. Although for some reason you don't want him to leave. And you want to hit yourself for feeling this way.

"Come on." - He said, coming closer. You glanced over your shoulder. He put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. "What's wrong with helping my best friend's sister."

You turned away and grimaced, but inside you still felt a little relieved.

A few minutes later, you walked out of the locker room, and you looked around again, trying to remember where else you might have left your phone.

"Maybe in the gym?" - Jungkook suggested.

"Maybe..." - You mumbled, holding a little further away from him. He silently turned around and headed that way. "Hey! I told you, I don't need your help!" - You said, trying to get rid of him.

"Then just don't follow me!" - He threw over his shoulder without even stopping. You gritted your teeth and followed him anyway.

The gym was empty. You walked around it, looked in all the corners, and suddenly Jungkook stopped at a small room with sports equipment.

"Have you looked here yet?" - He asks, peering in. He walks over and opens the door wider. "I saw you go in here in class to get a ball." - Jungkook remembers.

"I wouldn't leave it here." - You argue, coming up behind him. He turns his head toward you.

"I think we should check here too." - He said and went inside. You looked at him skeptically and followed him inside.

The storage room was small, filled with balls, mats, and other equipment. You cautiously walked around the small room. It was lit by a single small window, through which the rays of the setting sun were breaking through. While you were looking at the stand with the volleyballs, you suddenly heard something. A click. The door closed. And immediately there was a sound that made you freeze. A lock.

"No, no, no..." - You turned around jerkily and pulled the doorknob. But in vain. You heard footsteps outside.

"Yeah... I think this is the last one." - You heard a muffled voice. "Finally, all the rooms are closed."

You pressed yourself against the door.

"HEY! SOMEONE HELP US! SOMEONE IS HERE!" - You pounded on the door, but nothing seemed to happen. Jungkook laughed.

"Damn, that's funny." - He said leaning on the stand. You slowly turned your head to him.

"You think it's funny?" - You squeaked. He held up his hands. "We've been locked in here. And probably on purpose."

"Hey, calm down. It's an accident, who would lock us in here on purpose?" - He asked skeptically. You slammed the door with your palm.

"Damn it!!! You're to blame for this!" - You screamed.

"Me?" - Jungkook was genuinely surprised.

"You dragged me here!" - You countered. He laughed out loud.

"My baby, you chose to follow me." - Jungkook said defiantly through hysterical laughter.

"Don't call me that!" - You shouted. You were shaking with anger. You'd lost your phone somewhere, but worse than that, you were locked in a small room with a man you couldn't stand.

"What? 'My baby' this word makes you angry?" - He asked again and smiled again. You looked around frantically.

"We have to get out of here. Call someone, Hosoku or whoever, and get us out." - You said.

"Oh, of course we have to get out. Otherwise, you'll be stuck with me in a cramped room..." - He suddenly took a step closer. "...alone." - You clenched your fists. Reflexively stepping back to the door.

"Don't do this. Just pick up the fucking phone and call my brother." - You said.

"Don't do what?" - Jungkook stopped one step away. You took another step back. There must be a door somewhere. "I think you don’t want that I’m really calling to anyone." - He said, leaning closer. You froze. He smiled slightly, his gaze sliding over your face, then to your lips. "Even you don't mind?" - Your heart beat faster. But you had to control yourself. You clenched your teeth.

"If you don't shut up now..." - You threatened, losing what little self-control you had when Jungkook pinned his gaze on your lips and took another half step closer.

"What?" - He lowered his voice. You could hear the noise in your ears and the frantic pounding of your heart. Jungkook must have heard it too, because he suddenly smiled mysteriously.

"I'm going to kill you." - You tried to say in your usual tone. The one you used every time you spoke to Jungkook. But as he stood so close and looked at your lips, you heard your voice break.

"Really?" - He asked. You suddenly realized the gravity of the situation and seemed to see yourself from the outside. You were like an antelope being caught by a lion.

You were ready to kick him, but he suddenly grabbed your wrist and sharply pushed you against the front door. Your heart was pounding even faster. His face was close. Too close.

"If you hate me so much..." - His voice was hoarse. "Why are you embarrassed next to me?" - You wanted to protest. You don't get embarrassed next to him. He always annoys you, and all you do is get angry and yell at him. Jungkook leaned in even closer, his lips near your ear. "If I kiss you now, will you push me away?" - He whispered. You felt his breath on your skin and knew he was playing with you. But what was even worse was that, against your will, you began to like this game.

You leaned back against the front door, your pulse pounding in your temples, and Jungkook's breath barely touching your skin.

"I'll push you away." - You gritted out, trying to raise your hands to push him away, but he grabbed them and pinned them behind your back, intertwining your fingers. You tried to get free, but he held you tighter. His closeness and the smell of his perfume made your legs go limp. He smiled.

"Oh, you do?" - He asked boldly. Your nails dug painfully into his palms.

"Don't play with me, Jungkook." - You threaten, looking into his eyes filled with mischief. "I'm going to tell Hoseok that you were hitting on me." - Jungkook giggled softly.

"You won't." - He said confidently. "Because you like what I do." - His lips were almost touching your ear. You flinched, but tried to pull away from him anyway.

"I don't like it. You're too confident." - You said firmly. He pressed even closer, and then... backed away. You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Jungkook had stirred up something in you that you weren't supposed to feel before.

"Do you want me to stop to make fun of you?" - He suddenly asked. You raised your eyebrows and shifted on your feet.

"What?" - You asked quietly. Jungkook smiled predatory.

"I suggest we end this here. Once and for all. Here's the deal. You do one thing I ask and I'll never make fun of you again." - He offered. It sounds tempting. The prospect of getting rid of Jungkook forever is too tempting.

"What are you suggesting?" - You ask sharply.

"Kiss me." - He says. You are frozen. But then you almost laughed.

"Are you silly? What kind of nonsense is that?" - You laugh. Jungkook takes a step forward and you don't take your eyes off him.

"Just kiss me and this will be over." - Jungkook says. You clench your jaw. Should you kiss him? Only if the world ends.

"I won't..." - You say indignantly. Jungkook is close again, and your pulse is pounding in your temples.

"Why, are you scared?" - He smiles even wider. "Do you think you'll like it?"

You grit your teeth. He dares you. He's just playing with you. He won't leave you alone even if you kiss him now. The thought of kissing him is driving you crazy. If you do it now, he'll laugh forever.

But...

Why did your hand suddenly almost jerk forward? Why did his gaze seem to evoke something hot and uncontrollable inside you? You took a deep breath. Could he be serious now? You don't know if you can trust him one hundred percent, but for some reason you think he's serious.

"Okay." - You finally agree. Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

"What?" - His voice is pure surprise. You took a step toward him, grabbed him by the collar of his bomber jacket, and go on your tiptoes, slowly reaching for his lips... You could almost feel his warmth when he pulled away at the last moment.

You froze. You opened your eyes and saw his sly smile.

"You..." - You said quietly, boiling with rage. He laughed, brazenly, smugly, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. How humiliating.

"So you really want to kiss me? You said you didn't like it. You didn't really think I'd let you do it that easily, did you?" - The blood rushed to your head.

"You... asshole." - You punched him in the chest, but he just laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you were so determined to kiss me. Did you really? You hate me so much and you wanted to kiss me?" - He asks through his laughter. You got even more angry and started to hit him, but he quickly caught your arms and turned you around, pinning you against the wall again. He pinned you from behind and you felt his crotch pressing against your ass. You were breathing fast.

"That's enough, baby. I don't want to fight you." - He mumbled in your ear. His fingers tightened around your wrists, which he had pinned against the wall. "I thought you were so cold..." - His voice dropped to a whisper. "But you're heating up faster than I thought."

"Let go of me." - You hissed, wriggling away. But he didn't listen.

Instead, he turned you around and before you could realize it, he was kissing you. Hotly, greedily, so that your breath hitched and your thoughts were mixed. He pressed against you harder, and you... You didn't push him away.

On the contrary, your fingers tightened involuntarily on his bomber jacket. You hated him. But... You wanted it.

When he pulled away from you, his lips were still barely touching yours, and his voice sounded bold and deep at the same time.

"Should we stop?" - He asked. You were breathing heavily, your mind screaming no, but your body was reaching forward treacherously. His gaze burned you. Deep, dark, filled with something that made your body stiffen and your heart pound furiously in your chest.

Jungkook's lips barely touched your cheek, then slowly slid down to your jawline. His breath is hot and tickles your skin, making you shiver.

"I knew it." - He whispers. "You're not pushing me away."

"I..." - You stutter, not sure what to say. His hands, warm and strong, slid down your body. He slipped his hand under your sweatpants and squeezed your buttocks as if he didn't want to let go, as if he wanted to leave a mark on you-not just on your skin, but deeper, somewhere you'd never let him touch.

"Mmm?" - His lips touched your ear. "What are you going to say now?" - You wanted to say that this was a mistake. That you didn't want this. But your breath gave you away. Deep, shuddering, with an echo of desire. Jungkook smiled slightly, his other hand slowly moving up along your waist, tugging at the fabric of your T-shirt. "Do you want me to stop?"

His lips descended to your neck, a light bite, a burnt touch of his tongue that sent an electric shock through your body.

"Tell me..." - He demanded, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. You couldn't say no. Because your fingers had already slid over his chest, you could feel the muscles rippling under the fabric, and your body was treacherously searching for him.

"Jungkook..." - His name sounded almost pleading on your lips.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours again, even hotter, even more greedy. This kiss was no longer a game. It was real. And you already knew you had given in.

His hand that had been squeezing your buttocks slid down your thighs and came to your front. Without taking his lips from yours, he parted your folds and touched your clit with his fingers. You unconsciously moaned into his mouth. He smiled into your lips.

He massaged your clitoris so gently and so wonderfully that you thought that if he hadn't been holding you down, you would have fallen over. The circular movements on your sensitive center were driving you crazy.

Jungkook plunged his fingers into your passage and finally pulled away from your lips. You were both breathing heavily, very close together. You felt his hard cock resting against your thigh.

"You're so wet for me, baby." - He whispers breathlessly. You can't speak, because the friction from his fingers prevents you from doing so. "Do you want more? I can fuck you right now." - Jungkook offers. You raise your eyebrows, moaning softly. Jungkook pulls up your t-shirt to reveal your breasts.

You're not wearing a bra. You didn't put it on after gym class because you were sweating and didn't want to wear a dirty bra. You didn't plan to go back to school, but you forgot your phone.

"I've always wondered what those nipples taste like." - Jungkook hummed and leaned over to one of them. His lips captured your sensitive flesh and sucked. You felt him smile. You held his shoulders and tried not to go crazy with his skillful fingers inside you.

"Jungkook..." - You called out to him. He didn't answer. He just moved to your other nipple and played with it with his tongue. "Please..." - You breathed out. The Jungkook left your nipple and you felt the cold air contrasting with the licked nipple.

"What is it baby?" - He asked into your lips then. But suddenly he pulls his hand out and puts his fingers into his mouth. You breathe heavily and watch him suck his fingers soaked in your cum. "You really want me to fuck you?" - Jungkook wants to make sure. You bite your lip, unable to say it out loud. But yes. You do want him to fuck you.

Jungkook glanced between your bodies. His hard cock was already resting against your pussy. He made a few thrusts and you squeezed his clothes harder.

"Go ahead and say it, or I won't continue." - He says tensely. A hush escapes your lips.

"You're lying." - Suddenly, your voice cuts through. "You won't be able to stop now." - Jungkook laughs. You're so damn right. He's either going to fuck you or…he's going to fuck you.

"You're such a smart girl. But you have to let me." - He warns you gently. But you don't answer right away. You think again that this could be a joke. What if will you let him now and he walks away again? And then what? Or you'll let him fuck you now and he'll tell someone that you begged him.

"Do you want me?" - You asked, instead of letting him. Jungkook pulled away and looked into your eyes. He saw how much you wanted him. He wanted you too, your question was so stupid.

"Isn't it obvious?" - He asked with an arched eyebrow. You ran your fingers down his neck, took out his hair and dipped it in your hands, stroking it.

"Just say it. Do you want to fuck me right now?" - You asked, smiling seductively. Jungkook smiled back reflexively. His eyes grew darker.

"Fuck it!" - He cursed. "Yeah. I want to fuck you so hard you can't sit up." - He said with anticipation in his voice. He put his hands on your hips and squeezed them. You smile satisfied, now you can let him.

"Then do it Jeon." - You say and his lips crash against yours. His tongue enters your mouth and finds yours. You get even wetter from his kisses. You want more and he just promised you.

Jungkook breaks your kiss and in one swift movement leaves you without your sweatpants and panties. He falls to his knees in front of your pussy and his eyes are filled with lust. You breathe raggedly looking down at him. You could never have imagined such a picture in your head. Jungkook smiles at you from the corner of his lips and presses his lips to your pussy.

You grab his shoulders and squeeze them. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue traces long streaks across your folds. Your legs tremble as he sucks on the tip of your clit, and you are just in bliss. You press your head against the door and your moans fill this cramped room.

Jungkook sucks hard on your clit. At one point he plunges his fingers back into your passage to stretch you. You are almost going crazy. It's the first time you've ever been eaten, and it feels so fucking good. Jungkook's skillful tongue takes you to heaven. It doesn't take long for you to come right on his tongue. He feels you twitching and spends some more time his tongue on your clit enjoying every drop of you.

You stop twitching and he finally pulls his lips away from your pussy. You look down at him, breathing heavily. You see his chin shining with your juices.

Jungkook stands up, wiping his chin with his hand. He takes your neck with his hand, pulling you closer.

"As expected, you are as sweet as honey. I should have tasted you sooner. But you hated me." - He says and then kisses you. He puts his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. And it turns you on.

Not one of your boyfriends you've dated has ever eaten you because they thought it was not normal. Even though blow jobs are commonplace for them.

But Jungkook, did it in the first. You've heard about it from your friends and have been dying to try it. You want to laugh at the thought that the first person to eat you was Jungkook and he did it so damn well.

"If I had known that your tongue could do more than just talk nonsense, I would have been more sympathetic to you." - You said with a seductive smile as Jungkook broke your kiss so you could breathe in. He laughed, sincerely and infectiously. You laughed along with him. "So what? Do I have to do to make you feel good?" - You ask and reach for his pants. Jungkook is also wearing sweatpants, so your hand sinks inside without any obstacles, successfully passing through his boxers.

Jungkook pulls away slightly and lowers the looking between your bodies. He only sees your hand disappear somewhere in his pants, but when you feel his length and your fingers pump up the it, he barely holds back a moan. You arched your eyebrows and pretended to look like "not bad."

"You're bigger than I might imagined." - Jungkook looks up at you and smiles cockily. "I thought that if you had such a long tongue, your dick was tiny." - You mock. You couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Jungkook didn't appreciate your joke. He grabbed your face gently with one hand and he another hand leaned against the wall to steady himself.

"You're going to regret thinking that. Because my cock will make you scream." - He said powerfully against your lips, but you weren't afraid, you smiled playfully,. Before you can say anything in your defense, Jungkook kisses you again. Insistently, authoritatively, and deeply, as if he trying to prove something to you. You pull down his pants and boxers below his buttocks to have a better opportunity to jerk him off.

Jungkook moans into your mouth as you speed up your movements. He's getting hard in your hands and you can feel it well.

Jungkook pulls away from your swollen lips with all his might and stops you.

"That's enough, you better give me your pussy so that you realize how wrong you were." - You smile at his words and let him. He turns your back to him. You hear him moving behind you, obviously pulling his pants down. You press your hands against the door and wait for that moment.

Jungkook takes his cock in his hands and pumps you on buttocks several times. He slams it into your buttocks and you breathe heavily. He touches your folds with his fingers, runs them over your pussy to smear your moisture.

You finally feel the head of his cock touch your entrance. You hold your breath. Jungkook leans down to your ear and whispers one last time.

"Please be quiet, so the whole school doesn't hear you screaming from my cock." - He grabs your head and turns you around to kiss you. Your mind is foggy with lust, excitement, and his words.

Finally, you feel pressure on your passage. Jungkook holds your hips. Slowly but surely, he plunges into you. You feel pain when only his head is inside. You scream out, which makes him smile.

"So you're already regretting thinking that?" - You hear his voice somewhere behind you. You say something unintelligible and then scream again as he presses harder. His cock is really big. The biggest you've ever had inside you. Jungkook hisses. "Fuck you're tight, so tight, baby." - You want to smile but you can't, it hurts. Jungkook finally takes over completely. You both freeze to get used to the sensations. Your hot breath leaves marks on the door.

"That feels so fucking good." - You say quietly, so Jungkook doesn't hear that his cock makes you feel so good.

"Are you okay baby?" - He asks leaning down to your cheek. You smile because you're glad he didn't hear what you said a moment ago.

"Yeah. Everything is fine." - You say honestly.

"Then get ready. Because I'm going to fuck you hard." - He warns. Jungkook straightens up and moves his hips. You bite your lip to keep from screaming. The first movements are painful. The next ones are pain mixed with pleasure. And when Jungkook sets a good pace, you feel absolute bliss. You can't stop moaning. He moves his hips so well creating exactly the friction you like.

But Jungkook doesn't stay gentle for long, at some point his thrusts become sharper, deeper. His fingers touch your thighs with a certain force. The cock presses into you as much as possible and you feel he shudders in your middle.

The sensations are simply incomparable. He is so good at this. Jungkook fucks you perfectly. Like no other. It's just nonsense. The best fuck you've ever had is not with someone you love, it’s with Jungkook, who you hate, and not on white sheets, but in a school in the small room with sports equipment. It's crazy.

"That feels so fucking good. Baby, you're just perfect for me." - Jungkook compliments you. He finds your clit with his hands and you can't stand the stimulation.

"Koo... please..." - You say between exhaling moans.

"What did you call me?" - Jungkook asks as he continues to fuck you. You feel a sweet bliss brewing in your lower abdomen.

"Koo..." - You moan his shortened name.

"Damn... You can call me that whenever you want to fuck." - He offers. You raise your eyebrows and open your mouth. Does he think this is not your only time? Right now, you're almost on the verge of cumming around him. And you think that you wanted it to be more than once, too. You want this amazing sex was constantly. But what will happen when you come out from this room, and you finally realize what you've done.

But the knot in your stomach unravels and you come, clutching Jungkook's cock. He's cursing behind you, and you can feel you squeezing him. He slaps his hips mercilessly, his balls slamming against your ass, and the sinful slaps drive you crazy. Jungkook pulls out abruptly and he comes. His cum spills all over the floor and his hands.

You turn around and see him cumming. He looks over at you when he stops spewing his cum.

You are both breathing heavily. Jungkook pulls on his boxers and pants, which he has slightly polluted. You put on your thong and pants and are afraid to look up at him. Jungkook looks at you and a confident smile spreads across his face. You pretend to fix your clothes.

"You have wipes? We're did a little a mess here." - He says and you hear a smile in his voice. You reach for the bag, but your hands are shaking. The warmth of his touch is still pulsating on your skin, and your breathing seems heavier than it should be.

Jungkook seems to sense your state, so he takes his time. He watches you take out the napkins, how you avoid his gaze, and smiles smugly.

"Are you always this quiet afterwards?" - His voice drops to an almost purring tone.

You start to get angry again, but instead of answering, you just toss him the package of napkins. He catches it with one hand and runs the other through his hair, causing the dark strands to become even more disheveled.

"Are you always this obnoxious afterwards?" - You snap back, finally looking up at him. He wipes his hands and the remaining cum on the floor. He stands up. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as if he's considering your question.

"I don't know." - He slowly moves closer, making you take a step back. "But I know I want to do it again." - Your heart jumps into your throat.

"There's not going to be another time." - You say sharply, straighten your clothes, and pretend nothing happened. Even though you want there to be another time. Jungkook laughs again. Deep, low, and this sound makes you even more confused.

"Why not? You liked it." - He states. You clench your jaws and look at him with a challenge.

"Don't you have anyone else to have fun with?" - You ask. He takes another step, and now there are barely a few centimeters between you. His eyes are dark, attentive, and something dangerous is burning in them.

"No. It's just you now." - He says. Your breath catches in your throat. He kisses you and you don't resist. What could that mean? Is this an invitation to fuck without obligation? But he's so annoying when he doesn't fuck you, how do you deal with it? He pulls away from your lips.

"Just don't tell anyone. This will be our secret. You don't want your brother to kill me, do you?" - Jungkook asks, he strokes your cheekbones. You laugh slyly.

"Half an hour ago, I was dreaming about it." - You admit honestly.

Jungkook smiles, and you see something triumphant in his eyes. You hate it - how he always wins your verbal battles, how he always knows which buttons to push to get you off balance.

But you hate it even more the way your heart jumps out of your chest at his proximity.

"So now you don't dream of my death anymore?" - He touches a strand of your hair as if it were something familiar, as if he had a right to do so. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to maintain control. His fingers slowly slide from your hair to your chin, and he lifts it slightly, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. "Don't worry, baby. I'll have time to make you dream of other things." - He says this with such confidence that your skin crawls with goosebumps. You pretend not to feel it.

"We'll see." - You snap back. Jungkook lets you go. He takes a step back and then pulls your phone out of his pocket.

"I forgot to tell you that I found your phone earlier." - He smiles, and you are frozen with shock. So he set this up? You blink, not fully believing his words.

"You... you found it earlier?" - Your voice trembles a little with anger.

"Yeah." - Jungkook throws the phone to you, and you automatically catch it. "I wanted to see what you'd do when you went back to look for him."

You squeeze the phone in your hand, feeling indignation boiling inside.

"You asshole!" - You punch him in the shoulder, but he doesn't even move, just smiles smugly.

"Maybe a little. But we've had fun, right?" - He takes his phone out of his pocket now. "Let's get out of here."