#i walk around sounding like bubble wrap

[wyyrmwood]

Sorry I haven't been posting much gang, it's winter and my joint issues have been flaring up pretty badly :( the only notable digital art I've been able to make rn is this and Viktor Arcane.

Physical painting is still ok because I got brushes with big ole fat handles i can start using so expect more paintings but less digital art this season. That's ok though, I love painting my little bugs 🐛

The bones hurt season is upon me, and every year I am reminded that someday I will have to stop entirely.

Not rn though, rn I'm very slowly drawing Jayvik in ballet poses in space (also they are kissing)

[writersdrug]

Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”

[toyogamii]

pt.1 pt.2

“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.

he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.

“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.

“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).

“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”

“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.

you nod.

“wanna get outta here?”

he flashes you a charming grin.

“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”

mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.

you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.

“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.

when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.

“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.

sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.

“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.

“where are we exactly?”

“come on.”

he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.

you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.

“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.

“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.

“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”

you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.

“i’m sure he loved it.”

sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.

“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”

you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.

“you’ll remember it.”

“… yeah.”

there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.

before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.

he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.

yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

pt. 4

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in his corner

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, boxer!rafe, established relationship, p in v sex, semi public sex, violence but not in great detail, unprotected sex, mentions of rafes anger issues

rafes head is down as you step into the locker room. it's dark and gloomy, no need for bright lights that just illuminate the blood and grime more.

the fleeting sunlight peeking in through the windows only casts light upon the dust floating in the room as you close the door behind you, causing rafe to finally look up.

his eyes shift from pure focus to something softer. “hey.” his voice is still low, slightly hoarse from not speaking most of the day.

“hey.” you move the rest of the way into the room, your footsteps sounding thunderous in the silence that always cloaks the gym before a fight, especially one like this.

“ill be safe.” you see a hint of humor in his eyes now as you roll yours. you always tell rafe to stay safe before a fight, it's become such an expectation that he beats you to it.

“do you have your gloves?” you ask, looking towards his gym bag, wanting to rifle through it to make sure rafe has everything he needs, even though you packed it for him.

“of course.” rafe smiles, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs and pulling you closer into him, his forehead pressing against your stomach.

“you're nervous for this one.” rafe states. he doesn't need to ask, he can tell just by your energy, the way your breathing is more frantic, your eyes opened ever so slightly wider than normal.

“im not the one in the ring.” you hum, hand coming to the back of his neck, stroking over his hairline, taming it despite knowing it's only a few minutes before it's going to get messed up again, either by rafe rubbing at it or the opponent.

“i know.” rafe looks up at you, a soft smile on his face. “but ya love me.”

“mmm, unfortunately.” you joke, a smile flashing across your lips before you drop your head to press your mouths against rafe, the kiss hungry and desperate, knowing it may be your last for a while if rafe gets his lip busted open.

“okay-” rafe sighs, pulling away, restraint in his voice as his insides call to continue kissing you. “it's almost time. love you.”

“love you too.” you back away but keep your eyes locked with rafe until your back is pressed up against the door. “win for me.”

you step out, eyes flickering around his team, waiting in the hallway for you, knowing better than to interrupt your moment with rafe.

“he's ready.” you nod to rafes coach before ducking out of the way as they file into the locker room.

you can hear the noise of the crowd grow as you walk into the arena, rows of seats all facing towards the central octagon. none of the security stops you to ask for a ticket as you walk to the front, rafe has become a headliner at the boxing gym, and you a vip along with it.

you take your seat, a coveted one, right in rafes corner. you know he has supporters, and while you appreciate most of them, the female ones who fawn over him anger you every time they shout his name or try to give him their number, but his quick shut down of advances always washes away the brief resentment.

“hey y/n.” rafes coaches brother, lewis, sits next to you, your de facto personal bodyguard. you insisted you didn't need someone looking over you, but rafe was always worried about a fight starting in the crowd. it certainly wouldn't be the first one that has broken out at a boxing gym.

“hi lewis.” you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and lean back in your seat as the prematch comes out, beginner fighters to keep all the early attendees from getting impatient while the crowd grows and seats fill.

overall, it's a professional arena. not on a pro level by any standards, but the best you can get in the area without making boxing full time. it certainly puts the smaller gyms rafe started out in to shame.

you were the one who originally suggested it. any sort of contact sport to work through some of his anger. you saw it bubbling under the surface, and you knew rafe would never do anything in your presence, even if he wanted to scream and punch a wall, he'd bottle it all in just to not scare you.

you clap as the first round comes to an end, ever the good supporter and attendee. it's part of the reason the gym likes rafe so much, he's no fuss, no personal drama, just pure fighting.

there's more rounds as you wait to see rafe, the rest of the seats being filled along with standing room in the back for anyone getting in late. 

a new referee steps into the ring, a professional with years of experience who doesn't bother with the lower level fights, saving himself for the main event. 

you sit up a little straighter in your seat as your eyes move to the door, a smile stretching over your cheeks as rafe steps out to applause and the thumbing base of a rap song. you applaud as well, keeping your eyes on rafe despite knowing he won't look at you, not until he gets in the ring, some sort of superstition that he's developed as he keeps his head down.

the other fighter comes out to the booming announcement of their name, a silly nickname you immediately disregard. clearly someone trying to rise the ranks and become a well known name, but you can tell just by his stature that rafe will take him down.

you breathe a little sigh of relief as rafe climbs into the ring and looks over to you, a slight smirk you're sure only you can see. he knows just as well as you do that this will be an easy day.

the official facilitates the handshake between the opponents before they're back to their corners to tape wrists and put on gloves, getting everything prepared. you keep your eyes on rafe, of course, taking in his every movement.

you feel a stirring in your stomach as he stands, tank top stretched tight across his body while his shorts are looser, allowing him to move easily around the ring.

you hear a woop coming from the back but know better than to divert your attention, rafe surging forward right when the official starts the round. he wastes no time throwing quick punches before defending, stepping to the side to miss the opponents swipes.

rafe lands a few more blows, but you don't cheer yet. you've made the mistake before of thinking he's in the clear too early.

the movement of rafes body is almost a dance, one driven by passion. his biceps bulge with every punch, swear gathering on his chest, making your mouth water as you watch.

the officials whistle to end the round makes you jump, too wrapped up in rafes looks to pay attention to the fight like you know you should.

you really do try to shift your attention back, but as the next round starts, you're quickly drawn back to watching rafes body and smooth movements. 

every punch he throws makes your legs tighten further, hoping the pressing of your thighs offers you some sort of relief, but any comfort is fleeting.

your body responds for you when the fight comes to end, rising to your feet and clapping as you snap back to attention. rafe of course wins, the opponent not even getting a punch to his face other than a brief touch on his jaw that didn't even knock his mouthguard.

“i knew you'd win.” you smile and step forward as rafe comes to the ropes, leaning over to press his lips against yours.

“let me talk to the team and shower then we'll get out of here, yeah?” rafe kisses you again before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “i can tell you're turned on.”

--

“how'd you know?” you question as rafe shifts the car into drive, his free hand immediately coming to your thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“that you were- are turned on?” rafe smirks, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. “you get a look in your eyes, baby. and i can tell you want me.”

“and i have that look right now?” you hum out, turning the volume up on the radio slightly as the kid cudi song comes on.

“mhm. and it'll only intensify when i do this-” rafes hand slides upwards between your thighs. you quickly part them for him, letting out a soft moan as his fingers rub right where he knows you like it best.

“shit.” you lean back into the seat, trying to keep yourself from jumping over the center console and pouncing on rafe instantly. you pray you don't hit traffic as he presses harder on the gas pedal, ready to get home as well.

“you looked so pretty tonight cheering me on baby.” rafe pushes his fingers harder against your pants, creating tight circles. “even if you were spaced out the entire time.”

“mhm.” you hum, not even truly listening to what rafe is saying, just enjoying the tambor of his voice and the feeling growing in your stomach.

you know when rafe laughs that it's at you and your current state, but you've done far too much and been with him far too long to be embarrassed or ashamed by your lust as you let out another moan.

your eyes are glossy as you turn to look at rafe, hand gripping the wheel tightly with a clear tent in his sweatpants. you blink a few times to clear your vision as you take in his hard set jaw, tension building as he is forced to wait to get inside you.

you reach over to place your hand on rafes crotch, hoping the pressure of your hand sustains him a little longer.

“it's taking everything in me not to pull over and fuck you here in the car.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

you look out the windshield as rafe moves his hand to grip the steering wheel with both hands, needing it now that you're touching him to keep the vehicle steady. “we're almost home.” you hum out, petting your fingertips over his length, contemplating pushing his pants down and bending over the center console, but your clenching pussy needs him.

rafe pulls into the driveway at speeds he shouldn't be going inside a residential neighborhood, the car calming to a halting stop, and not even a second passes before you're out of your seats and out of the car.

rafe beats you to the front door, throwing it open for you to rush inside, locking it tight after you've entered.

you know you won't make it to the bed. you never do on nights like this. both on a high from rafe winning his fight, an easy opponent with not even a scratch to his knuckles.

rafe presses you against the wall of the hallway, his body molding against yours as his lips smash forward into a passionate kiss. you reach between your bodies immediately, knowing you're already soaking wet and ready from rafe playing with you in the car.

you push down on the hem of rafes sweatpants until rafe moves his hips and allows you to shove them down along with his underwear. 

rafe lets out a sigh as your hand wraps around his length, holding his cock in your grasp as you quickly begin to stroke.

“fuck, baby.” rafe places his fist around your hand. “as much as i love you touching me like this i need to be inside you now.”

there's a desperation in his voice that makes something in your chest tighten.

you nod and release him, undoing your button and zipper to shove your pants to the ground and kick them away. rafe grabs the hem of your tshirt before you can take it off yourself, pulling it up over your head before it also joins the clothes scattered around the foyer.

rafe connects your lips back together, his hands sneaking behind your back to undo your bra before pulling the cups off, large palms quickly replacing them as he holds your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze that has your mouth falling open in a satisfied sigh.

“bedroom, counter or right here?” rafe asks, pulling on your lip before you can answer and giving it a tug.

“right here.” you reach down and take rafes cock in your hand, giving it a stroke. “right here, right now.”

“mmm, don't have to tell me again.” rafes arms circle around you and pull you up, pinning you against the wall. your body moves so naturally like it's done a hundred times before, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

rafe lines up his cock with your entrance and sinks forward. your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him in tight, mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing closed as he slowly enters you.

“oh god.” rafe groans, mouth opening as well, but to press his teeth against your skin, biting down gently so as to not actually hurt you, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“fuck me rafe.” your fingertips are digging into his shoulders, trying not to pierce him with your nails as you grip onto his muscles, muscles he just used to pummel his opponent.

“fuck me hard.” you don't often ask for it hard or really give him any direction. rafe knows how to please you, but it's different today. you need his full force, everything he has left in him.

and he doesn't make you wait.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly before slamming in, forcing your ass back into the wall with a thud, your whole body shuddering as he thrusts.

you tighten your arms even more, needing your bodies to become one as he pumps his hips forward, the sound of skin meeting together spreading through the empty house.

tomorrow, you'll clean up the clothes off the floor. tomorrow, you'll make a large breakfast to replenish rafe from his fight and open every window in the house to let in light and air, but tonight, you're going to remain in the dark hallway with your legs wrapped around rafes waist.

“harder.” you beg again, even though you're not sure you can take it.

rafe complies, swinging faster as one of his hands manages to find a way between your bodies, tips of his fingers pressing against your clit. he knows he should fuck you longer, but he can build you up again for the second time in the bedroom, you've teased each other too much and he needs to feel you fall apart in his arms.

“you're so tight and warm.” rafe mumbles, burying his face in your neck as he huffs, absorbing your heart after being apart physically for too long, the cold air of the gym and locker room now being replaced with you.

“i love you.” rafe mumbles, lips against your neck as he presses a few kisses to your throat. “thank you.”

he doesn't need to say what for. you understand. for being with him, for encouraging him to try boxing, for standing by his side and knowing what's best for him even when he didn't know himself.

“i love you.” you moan out, pussy clenching around rafes cock as your high suddenly hits, back arching off the wall in pleasure only to be slammed back against it as rafe pushes as deep as he can go inside of you, the squeezing of your cunt triggering his own high as his cum spurts inside of you.

“f-fuck.” you whine, nails fully leaving marks now as you breathe deeply, chest rising and falling, pressing against rafes with every breath.

“let's go take a bath.” rafe says, his voice suddenly softer, almost like the sex was the last bit of excursion he needed to calm himself after the fight.

“okay.” you can't help but giggle.

despite your agreement, rafe doesn't pull out, his softening cock still inside of you and bodies connected.

“okay.” you repeat, pressing your lips against rafes cheek before resting your head against his, realizing what he needs in that moment. “i love you.”

you stay there, still, for minutes that stretch into what feels like hours, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“okay.” rafe finally responds, eyes blinking with a new clarity, any sort of anger or frustration he had before the fight now freed from inside him. “bath time, yeah?”

[milkmily]

Eat, Bath, Maybe me?ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr. Crawling x Reader

Smut cuz I can and I want him. Also because this fanart really inspired me a lot heheheh. I went to the ER today guys 🥲 I was in sm pain. I have gallstones. Yay. So fun.

Art by:@/Tado25

Living with Mr. Crawling came with its ups and downs. After living with him for a while, there have been some changes to your day to day life with him. For starters, coming home after a stressful day at work/classes and met with loneliness was met by his giggles. He crawls to you and hugs your legs as he says, “You back.” As he pulled you down to him so that he could kiss you.

Your bed at nights no longer felt super Lonely and cold. You'd be met with small giggles and his big hands running through your hair or your Body.

And well, your sex life changed too. Mr. Crawling really really likes to make you feel good. At times, his pleasure is pushed behind just so he can make you feel good after a stressful day after work/classes. Or in general any day. He sees you tensed up after work and he pulls you down for a kiss, and soon it just turns into your pants down as his face is in between your legs eating your pussy out as he holds your legs up and apart to prevent you from closing them. He sees you sitting down watching TV and he's in-between your legs making you cum already for the 3rd time with his tongue.

But most Of all he just really loves to feel you wrapped up around his cock. When you are sleeping he gently is tugging at your panties and begging for you to let him. Or he's humping his poor boner on your ass as you sleep. And of course, you always help him when you can. A thigh job, a tit job, a hand job and a blow job. But your pussy is always available for him. And he knows that already.

Now some of the downs are when he keeps waking you up in the middle of the night to his giggles and touches. Also when he tried to cook for you, he almost burned down your apartment. Anddddd people now think your apartment is haunted because they hear giggles and random sounds inside your apartment when your neighbors know that you are living alone.

But honestly you don't mind any of it. You just like that Mr. Crawling is there with you. Per usual, you walked back to your apartment after class. You were pretty stressed up already since you had just finished a test and all you thought about was what the hell would your score be. Thankfully, work gave you some days off to study and for your exams. You open the door with your key and are greeted with a giggle. “Hi Mr. Crawling.” You say as you take your shoes off and look down. Your eyes go wide and gulped. “You home.” He spoke. Why are you so shocked right now?

Well, he's wearing an apron. Only an apron. “you want eat? Want a bath? Maybe…” he crawls closer to you as you froze there, heart beating fast. He hugs your legs as He looks up at you. “Me?” He asked and giggled as he tugged at your skirt. You looked away and sigh. “Bath.” You say. He giggles and crawls to the bathroom. You catch your breath as you hold tightly to your shirt. Holy shit.

You walk into the bathroom and are met with a bathtub filled with water and some random soap. You looked down and saw a whole empty bottle of your favorite and brand new bubble bath. Oh God. You hear Mr. Crawling giggle as he gently splashes the water. Who cares, it's cheap soap anyways. You stay to take off your sweater when you feel his hand pull down your skirt. He grabs your panties and pulls Them down. He brings his face closer to your pussy lips and sniffles. He pressed a kiss on it, making you shiver. “Good.” He says and helps you out of the rest of your clothes.

In the bathtub, he was massaging your shoulder, making you moan and groan at the feeling of his hands on your shoulders. His hands would move from time to time to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples and massage them. But you didn't mind, you loved it. His lips would meet your neck and leave gentle bite makes On your neck.

Once out of the bathtub, he helped you dry up and put on your comfortable baggy and long gown. You sigh, feeling super satisfied and happy. “What is there to eat…?” You asks softly as you walked out and Mr. Crawling crawls right beside you. At the kitchen you are met with some messy dishes. “Hmm…” You start to wash them and clean the counter. Mr. Crawling looked at you but he wasn't grinning or giggling like he always does. He seemed…guilty. You come back home from a stressful day and have to clean? That was his mistake. “Me sorry.” He spoke and you shook your head. “It's okay.” You smiled as you cupped his face. He leans on to your touch and smiles.

“How about you help me?” You say and he tilts his head. “You help me?” And he immediately nods.

But honestly the food waited. As you were cutting up some carrots Mr. Crawling took advantage of the gown you had on and went inside. He pulled your panties to the side and rubbed his nose and sniffled. “He-Hey stop! You'll make me cut myself.” You say and jump as you feel his tongue slide between your folds. You let out a shaky sigh and brought Your ass out more to give him more acces. You could hear him giggle before he brought his lips to your clit, sucking and licking it. You closed your eyes as you moaned and tried your best in cutting up the carrots. But the way his tongue licked and his hands held tightly to your thighs. He moaned as he tasted your wet pussy and stuck his tongue in. You jumped and moaned, the knife now on the table, long forgotten alongside the carrots.

Your legs were going weak as he kept flicking his tongue on your poor clit. You hold onto the counter and whine as he pushes his fingers inside of you. So long and nice, they always always made you feel good. He always made you feel soooo good. “Mr. Crawling m- ah fuck like that. Please.” You whined and he continued to push his fingers in and out of your pussy, your juices leaking down to his face. Honestly, you've gotta get used to his cold touch. You don't scream every time he touches you with his big cold hands. They are something you are used to and his coldness always makes you Feel 10× better. You lift up the gown to see him eating your pussy out, so concentrate on you.

You pushed his head away, earning a whine from him and a small frown. You smiled at him and looked down to see the very huge tent he had that his poor apron Did a horrible job at hiding. “Stand.” You say and point at him. “you stand.” He doesn't really like standing up in front of you. He’ll do it when you aren't home. He's scared that you'd get scared by his height. but as you lift up your pretty gown and lean on the counter ass out, he couldn't help but do as you say so. And God, he is tall. He lifts up his apron that was covered with his precum. You could feel his long cock on the back of your ass and you push yourself More on to him. He whines and grabs your ass.

You were way too short for him to reach. He groans as he tries to position his cock to your aching pussy. You gasp as you were suddenly lifted up by him and put your knees on the kitchen counter. Your eyes go wide as you feel him shove his cock inside, the stretch making you moan.

He whimpers and whines as he pushes his hips back towards you. You moan as your eyes go wide. He looks down at your ass and holds on to it as he squeezed. “Hmpt- good?” He asks and you nod. “Good.” With tears in your eyes. He was a bit worried and tilted his head. “You not good?” He asks and you shake your head. “You just feel really good Mr. Crawling.” You whined. “Me good. Really good.” You repeat and moan as his hips move again. He groans and starts to quicken his pace. He whimpers and whines as he moves faster. You were holding on To the end of the counter as your poor cunt got pounded. You felt so good holy shit. His cock had you forgetting everything and anything.

You covered your mouth as you remembered your neighbors but he pushed his hips harshly, making you moan loudly. He moved his hands to cup your breast as he kept pounding on to you. Your eyes roll back and moan. His cock made your pussy feel so good, skin slapping and his cock wet and covered with your pussy's cream. You couldn't last Anymore and come on his cock as you scream. Your eyes rolled back, yoru back arching more as you cum. But that didn't stop him. He kept thrusting and thrusting, making you whimper and whine. “W-Wait- Oh my god!” You moaned.

He pulled away and giggled as he Panto and saw your pussy juice dripping.

He pants and turns you. You whimper at his touch and he lifts you up, pinning your back on the cold wall. Without needing his hands, he pushed his cock right back into your cunt with a thrust. Your back was on the kitchen wall as Mr. Crawling pounds Your pussy, his hands lifting you up as he pounds and groans into you. Your eyes rolled back as he kept fucking you. You couldn't even speak. All you were doing was moaning and screaming. Your hands holding his shoulders to support yourself.

He lifts your gown up to show your pretty bouncing tit's. He groans and brought one to his mouth as he fucked you. Your poor tit had bites and hickeys all over them. His thrusting was becoming sloppy. Without even telling him, you cum once again on his cock. Your body felt super sensitive and all of his thrust made you cry. Soon, he thrusted one last time into you harshly and came inside of you. He groans and whimpers and pulls out. His cum dripped out of you onto the floor. He nuzzles His face on your neck and whimpers. “Me like you.” He says in-between pants.

“like you.” You say back.

Heyyy @cyberzombi3

😝 gimme

honestly i love you all sm lol like omg omg❤️❤️

I have so many random body parts and souls too.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Rider

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

Summary- What happens after Rafe flips his bike.

Warnings- unprotected sex, choking, fingering, oral (male receiving), dirty talk. 18+

Watching Rafe speed through the sand on his dirt bike had your insides curling into themselves, your panties soaked and you worried people would be able to tell you were horny. Nibbling on the skin around your thumb and rubbing your thighs together you watched with wide eyes, your heart rattles against your ribcage harshly.

Rafe speeds up behind Maybank causing your nerves to triple as he gets closer to the blonde hair pogue, you know what’s about to happen before it does. Your eyes zone in on his front tire moments before it clips JJ’s back tire. It sends them both into the air, your eyes squeeze shut on instinct, the air in your lungs catching in your throat. Everything feels like it’s going in slow motion around you.

Gasps echo through your ears and you pop your eyes open once more, Rafe lay on the sand in a heap of limbs and motorbike gear, his bike lay half a mile away from his body. He hasn’t moved yet, your instinct is to run and that’s just what you do. You're sprinting across the sand before anyone can stop you, completely oblivious to the other bikes coming towards the two boys on the floor. Your sight is set on Rafe as your legs carry you towards him, he cranes his neck when he hears your name being screamed and his eyes go wide when he realizes you're coming for him. “Y/N!” He shouts, too slow to push himself to stand as a sharp pain jolts his lower back, his eyes darting between the bikes and you in panic.

His own heart is racing now, most likely matching the speed of your own. You're throwing yourself on him before he can stop you and he curls himself around you as the bikes skid by you sending the sand and dust into the air around you. He uses his body to shield you as John B abruptly breaks just before he hits JJ. All Rafe can hear is the sound of his heartbeat as he holds you tighter against his chest, your body hidden by his.

“Baby” you cry into his neck as you cling to him. His arms tighten around you as he feels you shake against him, the sound of you crying is drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. His anger bubbles in his chest at the idea of you getting hurt because he decided to fuck with Maybank. Angry at himself for putting you in danger.

“Hey hey it’s okay, I’m okay” he whispers into your hair, placing a hand behind your head and pressing you further into his neck. He can feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, he pulls the two of you up from the sand and you wrap your legs around his waist. Silence falls between the two of you as he walks away from the crowd, ignoring the calls from Topper. He walks you towards his car and puts you into the passenger seat, clipping the seat belt in. Your chest moves rapidly as you watch him in silence. “Stay here while I get someone to take my bike home” he orders, closing the door before you can argue.

Wiping away your tears you watch him walk over to Kelce, the two of them chat and you see him side glance Rafe’s car and he nods. You sit in silence for a few moments before Rafe turns to stalk back towards the car, your eyes dance down the length of his body. Remembering the butterflies in your belly before he had flipped off the bike, you watch him open his door and slide into the seat. “I’m sorry” you whisper, knowing he’s angry that you had put yourself in danger for him. He reaches over and grips your thigh, turning the ignition on as he pulls out of the car park.

You ride home in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles on your thigh. You chew at the skin around your nail again as you take sideway glances at him in the driver's seat. He’s half man spread in his seat, his jaw tense as he grinds his teeth together. Glasses sitting on the bridge of his perfect nose as he stares ahead, his hand moves every so often around the wheel as the light bounces off his ring into your eye. You're turned on again, squirming in your seat to get comfortable. Rafe dressed in his bike gear always made you hot and bothered. He takes a few sideway glances at you but you stare ahead, trying not to be so obvious. His fingers dig into the flesh of your inner thigh sending goosebumps down your arms, you catch the small smirk on his lips but he says nothing.

As you pull up to his house, he’s rounding the car to your side before you can open and he helps you out. His hand pressed firmly against your lower back as he walks you towards the porch, inserting the key into the lock and opening the door for you. “Rafe” you whisper, unsure if he’s still angry at you. You stand at the threshold waiting for him to turn around to look at you. “Are you mad?”.

“I was… but I have something else on my mind now” he states, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you towards the living room. “What?” You question, he takes a seat on the couch and pats his lap. You go to take a seat on his thigh but he shakes his head, gripping your hips he maneuvers you so you're straddling him. Your skirt bunches up and he catches sight of your black panties, knowing exactly what ones you're wearing. The ones he had brought you with the little bow on the front. “You were fidgety in the car” he states, his palms rub up the length of your thighs as he stares up at you with a knowing smirk. The small dimple causes your inside to melt again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Just worried you were angry”.

He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head, pushing his hands further up your thigh. The material of your skirt now completely rolled up exposing your panties. “I don’t think that’s why.. I think your horny” and you shake your head in protest “if I slipped a finger into your panties you wouldn’t be wet?” He questions, raising his eyebrows at you. You pull away from him slightly but he pulls you back in, pressing your mound into his belt buckle causing a strangled moan to slip from your lips. “That’s what I thought”.

“I am angry you put yourself in danger, angry that I put you in danger but… I’d rather make you cum than tell you off for being stupid”

“Oh” is all you can manage, your clit throbs as he rocks his hips into you. “What’s got you so turned on baby?” He questions, halting his movements as he waits for your answer. “You”

“Of course… but what exactly?”

“Your outfit.. you on the bike.. before you flipped”

He hums, picking up the rhythm of his rocking again. The cool metal of his belt buckle pressed firmly against your aching clit. Your fingers curl around his shoulders as he plays with you, your mouth dropping open slightly to let out soft moans. “Use me baby… rock those hips and dry hump me” he orders, placing his arms behind his head as he stares up at you. His movements have stopped now and your hips have started to roll against him. “That’s it baby, don’t be quiet. Tell me what you want me to do to you after you make yourself cum on my lap” he says, eyes roaming from his lap to your face. His eyes are full with lust, his chest beats rapidly as he watches you fuck yourself against his lap. “I.. I want you to touch me”

“Yeah baby but where? Where do you want my hands?”

“I want them on my tits… and my pussy, I want your fingers inside of me oh fuck” You cry out, riding his belt buckle harder as your toes curl with pleasure. You can feel that familiar pressure already, your panties soaking through and coating his pants. “I can do that baby.. what else do you want? Hmm?” He questions, his hands have moved back to your thighs. Sliding up the sides until he grasps the flesh of your ass and helps you move your hips against him.

“Your cock!”

“I want your cock.. oh fuck… I need your cock Rafe! I need you to fuck..shit… fuck me, please fuck me!” You're whining and cursing, throwing your head back in ecstasy as your body shakes around him. Your orgasm riddles your body the moment he touches you again. “Oh! Oh yes yes”.

“That’s it baby.. doing such a good fucking job” he praises, pressing a kiss to your throat and then your chest. Your hands move to pull your shirt over your head, Rafe eyes your tits that are enclosed in a black bra. He snaps the clips at your back and pulls the bra down your arms exposing your tits to him. “Please” you beg when his hot breath tickles your chest, his mouth encloses around a nipple. Arching your chest into his mouth more, one of his hands spread across the top of your back as he suckles your breasts. “That feels so good” you whine, rolling your hips into him again. You can feel his hard cock through his pants and you so desperately want it inside of you. “I need you”.

He pulls away from your chest and pulls his own shirt over his head, your fingers run down the length of his chiseled stomach and begin fiddling with his belt, slipping your hand into his pants as he unzips himself. You pull his cock free and fists him tightly, moving your wrist up and down as pre cum coats his tip. “What do you want baby” he grunts as he watches you, eyeing his hard cock, you're slipping from his lap and kneeling between his legs. Taking his cock deep into your mouth, your tongue swirling against the soft skin.

You can feel him throb against your throat as you suck him back, his fingers placed into the back of your hair. He holds you tightly but doesn’t try to take control until he’s pulling you away and gripping you by the throat.

“Sit on my cock” he demands, his hand doesn’t leave your throat as you move back onto him, reaching for his cock you coat him with your juices by running the tip between your folds before pushing down onto him. Synchronized groans slip from your lips as his cock is buried deep inside of you, it almost feels like he’s in your stomach.

He lets you take control again but doesn’t let go of your throat, he pulls you to his lips and devours you as you bounce on him. “Fuck baby.. that’s it.. take what you want” he growls, sucking on your bottom lip. His fingertips press a little harder into your throat, causing the air to come out in shorter breaths. “I- I can’t breath” you whimper, he doesn’t loosen his thought. “Breath, slow baby.. in and out” he says, your fingers wrap around his wrist but you keep bouncing on his cock. Thighs aching with each movement, a thin sheen of sweat coats your body. “That’s it baby.. such a good girl, it feels so much better when your head is just a little dizzy”.

And he’s right, as your eyes go slightly cross eyed and your breaths come out in short puffs, the ache in your belly grows and your hips coming down harder. “Fuck” you cry out, your clit throbs. “Such a good girl.. that’s it baby, I can feel you strangling my cock. Your so fucking wet” he groans, he’s pulling you off his cock and pushing you into the cushions of the couch.

Your ass high in the air, he thrusts himself back into you and grips your hips tightly. “Yes! yes yes” you scream into the couch, arching your back and digging your nails into the material. His palms connect with your ass with a loud smack, his red handprint appearing seconds after, choking on your saliva as he gets you closer and closer to your release. His hand grips your hair tightly as he pushes your face into the couch, crowding your body as he pounds into you. You can feel the beat of his heart on your back and the throbbing of his cock between your walls. “Oh fuck Rafe… I’m gonna cum!” Your warning far too late as your body shakes with pleasure, his fingers toy with your clit causing what seems like an explosion of pleasure to take over your senses and you cry and whimper into the couch. He’s cumming into you moments later, your walls pulsating around his heavy cock. Shooting his cum deep inside of you, grunts of pleasure spill from his lips and his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Fuck” he groans, loosening his fingers from your hair and hips. He pulls you away from the couch and slips his cock from within you, moving the both of you so you lay on your back.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger again” he states a few minutes later, your hand pressed to his chest and leg wrapped over his legs. “Don’t you ever do something stupid like that again and I won’t have to put myself in danger”. He chuckles under his breath and kisses your lips.

“You're lucky I could tell you were horny on the way home otherwise this afternoon could have gone a whole other route” he says, craning your neck to look up at him as he stares down at you. “Well I was ready to jump your bones the moment the race finished but you ruined that by doing a flip… maybe you should go for a ride again and I can show you what I was planning on doing after…”

“Yeah?”

“Call Kelce and get your bike”

[bi-writes]

I feel like the first time he sees her completely nude would be taking care of her or something domestic. Maybe she's sick and he draws her a bath and helps her wash up, or maybe the two of them are on vacation and just enjoying a hot tub together while he's on leave and they both get a view, or maybe he just walks in on her changing and was bringing up some laundry and forgot to knock.

mail-order bride

"need some help in there?" simon asks. he holds out a clean towel for you, and you furiously wipe under your nose. your eyes water a little, not from tears but from your sinuses, and you cough as you reach for the doorknob.

you feel like something ran you over. a flu, one that had you nauseous for a few days and now is making you weak and so tired, sweating while feeling immensely cold. simon thought it time for a bath, and it sounds wonderful, but everything aches a little.

you look at him before nodding, and he takes your hand gently, guiding you into the bathroom.

you sit on top of the toilet as he fills up the bath with warm water. your eyes are trained on the floor, your eyelids dropping and opening as you try and focus on staying awake. when the bath is full and the bubbles from your bath soap have formed, he reaches for your hands and guides you to stand.

he peels your clothes off of you carefully. your top first, then your shorts and panties, and you lean on him for stability as he undresses you. it's quiet, only the sound of the dripping tub faucet as he gets you naked. any other day, you would realize the significance of getting naked in front of your husband, but everything hurts a little too much for you to really notice.

he takes your hands and guides you into the bath, and you groan with relief as he helps you take a seat. he puts a hand on the back of your neck as you lay back, and you smile up at him with watery eyes.

"thanks, simon," you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"'s olright," he murmurs. "everything's gonna be olright."

"i know."

he dips a sponge into the water, squeezing a dollop of your soap onto it before lifting your arm and scrubbing. he's slow, being careful to get you nice and clean everywhere. he doesn't make it weird. scrubs under your arms (and he doesn't mention the fact that you haven't shaved in a while), over your breasts, brings each leg up to get under your knees and between your thighs. he doesn't laugh when he has to do that, just leans his forehead against yours as he smooths his hands over you and makes you feel just a little better with that soft touch of his.

your hair is last. he's careful with it, too, and he surprises you. two shampoo cycles, then lets the conditioner sit, and when he rinses you out for the last time, he kisses your forehead gently before grabbing the clean towel you left on the counter.

you take his hand to stand, letting him dry you off before wrapping the towel around your shoulders. your eyes meet again, and you smile big, your headache a little softer and the pains in your body a little further away.

"you're the best," you whisper, and simon winks, grabbing your robe off the hook and slipping it around you.

"and y'r so fuckin' gorgeous, swee'eart."

"simon!"

"wot? y'r sick, not dead."

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[rafecameronssl4t]

Could u do maybe like a ballerina x rafe type fic where she’s breaking in her pointe shoes and rafe is just so confused why she’s breaking them 😂😂 I love all ur fics 😭

Pointe Shoes || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

MASTERLIST

Hearing the loud banging coming from the balcony, Rafe makes his way up the stairs. “What’s going on?” he calls out as he rounds the corner, his brows furrowed in concern.

As he steps onto the balcony, he stops in his tracks, puzzled by the sight before him. There you are, sitting cross-legged on the ground, a pointe shoe in hand, vigorously whacking it against the floor. The repetitive thud echoes through the space.

“What are you doing?” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief as he walks over to the sofa and sits down, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

You look up at him with a soft smile, pausing your task for a moment. “I’m just breaking in my shoes,” you explain, your tone light and casual. You then proceed to snap the shank of the shoe with a satisfying crack.

Rafe’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. “Why the hell are you breaking your shoes? They cost a fucking fortune!” he exclaims, staring at you as if you’ve lost your mind.

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, the sound bubbling up despite his clear disbelief. “It’s part of the process,” you say, still chuckling. “New pointe shoes are too stiff to dance in comfortably, so we have to break them in to make them fit just right.”

Rafe shakes his head again, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept. “I had no idea,” he mutters, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite himself. “Wanna help me with the other one?” You smile at him as you pass him your other pointe shoe.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Rafe shrugs, moving to sit beside you. “So do I just, whack it on the floor?” he asks, his tone laced with confusion. You chuckle, nodding. “Pretty much.” Rafe picks up a pointe shoe and gives it a tentative tap on the floor. You watch as he gauges the effect, then, gaining confidence, he starts hammering it against the ground with increasing force. Your eyes widen in shock as the shoe takes a serious beating.

“Okay, okay—that’ll do,” you say, your nervous chuckle betraying your concern. He stops and looks at you, a triumphant smile on his face. “Got it,” he says with a grin. “This is kind of fun.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

Christmas Morning | LN4

🎄 summary ━━━━━━━ Morning sex with Lando on Christmas morning

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

🎄 word count ━━━━━━━ 3.9k

🎄 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The first thing Y/N noticed was the warmth. It seeped through her skin, wrapping around her like a cocoon, and for a moment, she forgot where she was. The faint aroma of pine needles and cinnamon lingered in the air, intertwined with a scent unmistakably his—a blend of cedarwood cologne and the subtle musk she now instinctively linked to Lando. Her eyelids fluttered open, and there he was, still asleep beside her, his dark curls tousled against the white pillowcase.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered softly, though she knew he couldn’t hear her yet. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, one arm draped lazily across her waist, pulling her closer even in sleep. She smiled, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at how peaceful he looked. There were no cameras here, no fans or flashing lights—just them, wrapped up in each other.

Lando stirred, his nose scrunching adorably before his eyes blinked open. For a moment, he seemed disoriented, but then his gaze found hers, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but impossibly warm. He shifted slightly, his hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. “Did Santa come?”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound muffled as she buried her face in his chest. “I think so,” she teased, pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. “But I don’t need presents. Not when I have you.”

He chuckled, the vibration rumbling through her as he tightened his hold on her. “Cheesy,” he accused, but there was no bite to his words. Instead, his fingers began to trace idle patterns along her spine, sending shivers down her body. “But I like it.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside their little bubble fading into insignificance. The sun crept higher, casting golden streaks across the room, and somewhere in the distance, they could hear the faint jingle of bells—probably someone walking their dog in the snow. But neither of them paid it any mind. Right now, there was only this: the softness of his touch, the way his breath tickled her ear, the lazy, contented smiles they exchanged without needing to say a word.

Eventually, Lando’s hand stilled against her back, and he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were darker now, more intense, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. “You’re beautiful,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Especially like this, all sleepy and soft.”

She blushed, her cheeks heating under his scrutiny, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached up to brush a curl from his forehead, her fingers lingering on his temple. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned, that mischievous spark she loved so much lighting up his eyes. “Not so bad, huh? Damn, I must be losing my touch.” Before she could respond, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that started off sweet but quickly deepened. His tongue brushed against hers, coaxing a soft moan from her as she melted into him.

Their bodies pressed together, every curve and angle perfectly aligned, and Y/N could feel the heat building between them. His hands roamed her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and she arched into his touch, craving more. “Lando,” she breathed against his lips, her voice trembling with need.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, brushing against the sensitive skin of her stomach, and she gasped.

“You,” she answered without hesitation, her hands gripping his shoulders as if to anchor herself. “Just you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift motion, he rolled them over so that she was beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress in the most delicious way. His lips found hers again, hungry and demanding, and Y/N surrendered completely, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

His hands slid up her sides, pushing her shirt up until it pooled around her shoulders, and then he broke the kiss just long enough to pull it over her head and toss it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her, taking in every inch of exposed skin, and Y/N shivered under his gaze. “So perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. He bent his head, his lips trailing hot kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower still, until he reached the lace edge of her bra.

Y/N gasped as he unhooked it with practiced ease, his mouth immediately seeking out her breast. His tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing it into a hardened peak, and she cried out, her hips arching off the bed. “Lando,” she moaned, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp.

He hummed in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure rippling through her, before switching his attention to her other breast. His hands weren’t idle either; one slid down her side, skimming over her hipbone, while the other cupped her breast, kneading it gently as he lavished it with attention.

By the time he finally lifted his head, Y/N was trembling, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. “Please,” she begged, her voice barely recognizable to her own ears.

“Please what, love?” he asked, his lips curving into a wicked smile as he watched her squirm beneath him.

“Touch me,” she pleaded, her hand reaching for his, guiding it downward until it rested between her legs. Even through the thin fabric of her panties, she could feel his warmth, and she whimpered, desperate for more.

Lando groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against hers as he cupped her through the lace, his fingers rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had her gasping. “You’re so wet already,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “God, I love how much you want me.”

She didn’t have the breath to respond, her entire body thrumming with anticipation as he tugged her panties down her legs and tossed them aside. And then his hand was on her again, his fingers sliding through her slick folds before slipping inside her, curling in just the right way to make her cry out.

“Lando! Oh, God,” she moaned, her hips bucking against his hand as he added another finger, stretching her, filling her. His thumb found her clit, circling it in time with the thrust of his fingers, and Y/N felt the coil in her belly tighten, threatening to snap.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let go.”

And she did. With a strangled cry, her body convulsed around his fingers, waves of pleasure crashing over her until she thought she might drown in them. Her vision blurred, her limbs turned to jelly, and it took everything she had just to keep breathing.

When she finally came back to herself, Lando was watching her with a satisfied smirk, his fingers slowly withdrawing from her body. “You’re incredible,” he said, his voice filled with awe, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her heart swelling with love and a hint of mischief as she met Lando’s gaze. Before he could react, she placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, shoving him back. He landed on the bed with a startled laugh, his hair falling messily across his forehead as he looked up at her with wide, amused eyes.

“Your turn,” she murmured, her voice low and laced with a daring edge. Her fingers found the waistband of his boxers, curling around the fabric with deliberate intent.

Lando’s breath hitched, the playful glint in his eyes quickly replaced by something deeper, more intense. His hips lifted instinctively, a silent invitation, as her touch sent a spark coursing through him. The air between them was charged, her steady gaze trailing over him like a flame, leaving him utterly captivated.

She didn’t hesitate, her lips parting slightly as she took him into her hand, feeling the weight and heat of him. Lando groaned softly, his head falling back against the pillow as she began to stroke him slowly, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. His hands fisted in the sheets, the muscles in his arms tensing as he tried to keep himself still.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, filled with a mixture of admiration and desire. She leaned down, her breath ghosting over him before she pressed a soft kiss to the base of his length. His whole body shuddered, a choked sound escaping his throat.

Y/N wasn’t teasing now. She wanted to give him everything—every ounce of pleasure she could. Her tongue flicked out, licking a slow path up the underside of his shaft, savoring the way he twitched beneath her touch. When she reached the top, she circled the tip with her tongue, tasting the salty precum that had gathered there. Lando’s hips bucked involuntarily, and a deep growl rumbled in his chest.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, his voice raw and desperate. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, she took him into her mouth, sinking down inch by inch until she felt him nudging the back of her throat. She relaxed her jaw, letting him slide deeper, her hand moving in tandem with her mouth. His moans grew louder, filling the room, and she could feel the tension building in his body, his thighs trembling beneath her.

Her free hand trailed up his stomach, feeling the tight muscles contract under her fingertips. She loved how responsive he was, how every touch, every lick, every suck brought him closer to the edge. And she intended to push him right to that brink before pulling him back, wanting to draw out his pleasure as long as possible.

Lando’s hand tangled in her hair, not forcing or guiding, just holding on for dear life as she worked him over. He was close—so close—and she could feel it in the way his breathing became erratic, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly. His hips jerked again, and he let out a strangled cry, his entire body tightening like a coiled spring.

But just as he was about to tip over the edge, Y/N pulled back, releasing him with a wet pop. Lando’s eyes flew open, wild and disoriented, and he stared at her in disbelief. “Y/N… what are you—?”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she straddled him, positioning herself above him. His hands instinctively gripped her hips, steadying her as she lowered herself onto him, taking him inside her in one smooth motion. They both groaned in unison, the sensation overwhelming.

“Christ…” Lando hissed through clenched teeth, his head falling back against the pillow again. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away, too consumed by the feeling of him filling her completely. She moved slowly at first, rolling her hips in a lazy rhythm, savoring the friction and the way his hands dug into her skin. His eyes never left hers, their connection deepening with every thrust.

As she picked up the pace, her movements became more urgent, more desperate. She braced herself on his chest, her nails lightly scraping his skin as she rode him harder. Lando’s groans turned into low, guttural sounds, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. The dual sensations made her whimper, her own pleasure building rapidly.

“You feel so good,” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “I love being with you like this.”

Lando’s response was a rough, almost primal growl as he sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling as he thrust into her from below, meeting her every movement with equal intensity. The shift in angle sent sparks shooting through her, and she clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “I love you. So much.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his words and the way he was looking at her. “I love you too,” she managed to choke out, her voice thick with emotion.

Their kisses were frantic now, messy and uncoordinated, but filled with passion. Every touch, every thrust, every word was an affirmation of their love for each other. Y/N could feel herself teetering on the edge, her body begging for release, but she held on, wanting to prolong this moment for as long as possible.

Lando, however, seemed to have other plans. One hand slid down between them, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing tight circles around it. The added stimulation was too much, and she cried out, her body convulsing around him as she came hard.

Watching her fall apart pushed him over the edge, and with a low, guttural groan, he spilled himself inside her, his hips stuttering as he followed her into oblivion. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over them.

When they finally came down, they collapsed back onto the bed, tangled together in a sweaty, sated heap. Lando pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his arms tightening around her. “That was… incredible,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but filled with contentment.

Y/N nuzzled into his chest, her heart swelling with love. “It always is with you,” she replied softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin.

For a while, they just lay there, basking in the afterglow and the warmth of each other’s embrace. But soon, Y/N felt a familiar ache building again, a quiet yearning that refused to be ignored. She shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone before whispering, “Do you think we can go again?”

Lando chuckled, his fingers threading through her hair. “You’re insatiable,” he teased, but there was no mistaking the desire in his voice.

Lando’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against Y/N’s cheek as she nestled closer. His fingers still tangled in her hair, he tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “Maybe we should open presents first,” he suggested, his voice low and teasing. “I think I got you something special.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure I can wait that long?” she countered, her hand trailing down his chest, skimming over the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his skin.

He caught her wrist gently, bringing her fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. “Because I know how much you love surprises,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And trust me, this one’s worth it.”

She sighed dramatically, though her heart fluttered at the look in his eyes. “Fine,” she relented, sitting up and stretching lazily. “But if this present isn’t as good as you’re making it out to be, I expect compensation.”

Lando’s laughter filled the room, a warm, infectious sound that made Y/N smile. Before she could process what was happening, he leaned down and swept her into his arms effortlessly. She gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders as he grinned down at her, his boyish charm on full display.

“Lando!” she protested through a laugh, though she didn’t resist.

“Patience, love,” he teased, carrying her out of the bedroom and into the living room, where the soft glow of the Christmas tree bathed everything in a golden light. He gently lowered her onto the sofa, his touch lingering as he made sure she was comfortable.

“Wait here,” he murmured, winking before turning to kneel by the tree. His shoulders flexed as he reached beneath the branches, rummaging through the pile of gifts with practiced ease. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles moved, her heart fluttering at the effortless strength he exuded.

After a moment, he straightened up, a neatly wrapped box in his hands. Turning back to her with a triumphant grin, he walked over and held out the package, his eyes alight with affection.

“For you, my love,” he said softly, his voice warm and brimming with excitement, as though he couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

She took the box, her fingers brushing against his as she did. The wrapping paper was delicate, adorned with tiny snowflakes, and she felt a pang of guilt for wanting to tear into it immediately. But Lando’s expectant gaze urged her on, and she carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a velvet jewelry box underneath.

Her breath hitched as she opened it, revealing a stunning silver necklace with a pendant shaped like a snowflake. It sparkled even in the soft morning light, and Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Lando… it’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he replied softly, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Here, let me put it on you.”

She turned around, presenting her back to him, and felt the cool metal press against her skin as he fastened the clasp. His fingers lingered on her neck, tracing slow, deliberate patterns that sent shivers down her spine. When he finally leaned in to press a kiss to the space between her shoulder blades, Y/N couldn’t suppress a soft gasp.

Y/N pushed herself up from the sofa, her movements deliberate as she made her way to the Christmas tree. She crouched down, carefully retrieving a small, rectangular box tucked away beneath the glowing branches. Her fingers lingered on the neatly wrapped present for a moment before she straightened up and returned to the sofa.

Settling back into her spot, she turned to Lando, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Your turn,” she murmured, holding the gift out to him with a soft smile. Her heart raced as his curious gaze flicked between her and the box, his hands brushing against hers as he took it.

Lando’s brow furrowed slightly with intrigue, and he began to unwrap the gift, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the moment. Y/N’s pulse quickened as she watched him, her anticipation growing with every tear of the paper.

Inside was a custom-made photo book, filled with pictures of their time together—moments captured in candid laughter, stolen kisses, and quiet mornings just like this one. Lando flipped through the pages, his expression softening more with each photograph. “Y/N… this is incredible,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over a picture of the two of them at sunset, silhouetted against the sky.

“I wanted you to have something to remind you of us,” she explained, her voice trembling slightly. “Of everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll still do together.”

Lando set the book aside, his eyes locking onto hers. “You don’t need to give me anything to remember us,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re all I think about, every day. You’re my everything.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she leaned in to kiss him, pouring all the love she felt into the gesture. His hands came up to cradle her face, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. “More than anything.”

The atmosphere around them shifted, a charged intimacy settling between them that made Y/N’s breath hitch. Lando’s gaze locked onto hers, his eyes dark and filled with intent. Slowly, his hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of warmth that sent shivers coursing through her. His touch lingered at her wrists for a moment before he grasped her waist, firm yet gentle.

Without breaking eye contact, he guided her onto his lap, her legs straddling him as their bodies pressed flush against each other. The closeness was overwhelming, every point of contact sparking with heat. Y/N could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms, mirroring the rapid thud of her own.

“Do you want…” he began, his voice low and husky, but Y/N cut him off with another kiss, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him. There was no need for words; the way she arched into him, the way her breath hitched when his fingers traced the curve of her waist, said everything.

Lando laid her back against the pillows, his lips never leaving hers as he covered her body with his own. His touch was tender but insistent, exploring every inch of her as though he was memorizing her all over again. When his mouth found her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, Y/N couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Lando…” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Please…”

He didn’t need further encouragement. His hand slipped between her thighs, parting her folds with practiced ease, and she gasped as his fingers found her already slick and aching. He teased her slowly, circling her clit with just enough pressure to make her squirm, but not enough to push her over the edge.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured against her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine. “Is this what you wanted earlier?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand. “Lando, please…”

He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her earlobe. “So impatient,” he teased, but finally gave her what she craved, sliding two fingers inside her and curling them just right. Y/N cried out, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged, his pace steady and unrelenting. “Let go for me.”

She obeyed, her climax hitting her hard and fast, her body trembling as she clung to him. Lando held her through it, whispering sweet nothings in her ear until she finally came down, her breathing ragged and her limbs heavy.

Before she could catch her breath, Lando shifted, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, maintaining eye contact as he slid them down and kicked them aside. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, every movement charged with anticipation. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands gripping her hips as he entered her in one smooth thrust. They both groaned, the sensation overwhelming after the intensity of her orgasm.

He started slow, savoring every second, every movement. Each thrust was deliberate, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until Y/N was writhing beneath him once more. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice strained with effort. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

“Neither will I,” she gasped, her nails digging into his back as she lifted her hips to meet his. Their rhythm grew faster, more urgent, until neither could hold back any longer. Lando’s name fell from Y/N’s lips like a prayer as she came undone again, her body tightening around him. He followed close behind, burying his face in her neck as he spilled himself inside her.

[moonchild9350]

Pick You Up

Summary: Chan comes back from the gym complaining of sore muscles. You offer to give him a massage amongst other things.

Pairing: dom Chan x sub fem reader (soft dom reader for like 2 seconds)

Genre: smutt- this is a 18+ fic, MDNI

Word Count: 2511

Warnings: cursing, hand job, daddy kink, breeding kink, spanking, overstimulation, p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up, wrap it up), cum swapping/cum eating...I think that's it

Note: This is inspired by Chan's bubble message saying he only works out to pick stay up. After he sent that message my mind went feral and this is the product. I think I wrote this is record speed lol Enjoy!

This is in no way how Chan is in reality. This is just for fun.

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

You knew your boyfriend Chan liked to work out. He goes diligently everyday with Changbin, the two letting their stress out that is built up from busy days in the recording studio by lifting weights.  Chan always said he didn’t feel like he was muscular, but you knew better.  You saw and felt those muscles every night when he would wrap his arms around you as you two fell asleep.  Nonetheless, you knew it was hard to change his mind once he thought a certain way. 

Chan was on his way back from the gym, having given you a call thirty minutes earlier, saying he was going to bring back dinner with him.  He walked in the door, kicking off his shoes and setting his gym bag down.  He walked over to you and gave you a kiss, as you were sitting on the couch watching TV.  He placed the food on the table.

“Hey baby girl, I brought dinner.  Wanna eat after I shower?”

“Yes babe, that’d be great. I’m starving!” you replied.

Chan chuckled at this and said, “Well I gotta feed my girl yeah?  Sit tight, I’ll be done shortly.”

You nodded at this and watched him walk towards your bedroom.  You heard the shower turn on and settled back in to watch your show. 

Not long after, he came back out.  He opened the take out and gave you yours.  He took his dish and sat down next to you.  While you guys ate, you asked about his gym session.  “Not bad, my muscles are killing me though,” Chan responded.  You hummed at this and said, “would you like me to give you a massage?” Chan considered this and agreed with a nod of his head.  “Well let’s clear this away and I can start your massage,” you responded.  You and Chan dropped the dishes in the kitchen and made the way to your shared bedroom.  

“Go ahead and sit down Channie,” you said.  Chan made his way to the bed and sat on the myriad of blankets littering the bed.  You sat behind Chan and started massaging the muscles in his neck.  At your touch, Chan sighed, relaxing and leaning back against you.  You slowly kneaded your hands into the tight muscles, taking your time.  There was silence as you worked, just the sound of the nightlife outside your window. 

“Feels amazing baby girl,” Chan grumbled out, letting his head fall back against your chest.  His eyes fluttered closed and he let off a sigh every now and then as you continued the massage.  Once you got to his sides, you took one of your hands and carefully brought it to his crotch.  You gently placed your hand on his cock and gave it a light squeeze.  Chan’s eyes flew open with your actions.  Chuckling, he asked, “What are you doing there baby girl?”  You shushed him and responded, “Just relax Channie, just want to make you feel good.”  At that Chan grinned and relaxed further into you, closing his eyes once more.  

You began rubbing his clothed cock, giving it a light squeeze every now and then. With each touch, you could feel his cock filling out the space in his shorts.  Chan groaned as you gave his cock a hard squeeze.  “Can you touch it baby girl? Go ahead and get daddy’s cock out.”  You reached your hand into Chan’s shorts and grabbed his cock.  It was warm and hard in your hands.  You rubbed your hand over his slit, gathering pre-cum, Chan hissing in the process.  You moved your hand up and down his shaft at a slow pace, placing wet kisses on his shoulders and neck. 

 “Does it feel good Channie?” you whispered.  

“It feels more than good baby girl.  Keep going, keep stroking daddy’s cock.”  You picked up the pace, jerking your hand, gathering more pre-cum to help the glide.  

Chan’s eyes fluttered at the feeling, sighing out with pleasure, as you worked his cock, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.  With each stroke, his breathing kicked up, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He thrusted up his hips, when he felt your other hand reach into his shorts and fondle his balls.  

“Yes baby girl, yes, so…so close, don’t stop.” 

With a hard squeeze of his balls, you whispered, “cum for me daddy.”  

“Fuu.. fuck,” Chan groaned loudly, muscles tensing, as he came hard, cum spurting out all over your hands.  You continued to stroke his cock, milking every last drop of cum, until Chan was hissing from the overstimulation.  You took your hand out of his shorts and licked up his cum, making sure to get every last drop.  

Chan turned his head and gave you a kiss, tasting the saltiness of his cum on your lips.  “It’s daddy’s turn now huh,” Chan whispered against your lips.  You nodded yes and kissed him again.  Chan guided you to lay down, your head resting on the pillows.  He pulled his shorts off before helping you get undressed, tossing the clothes on the floor. 

Chan grasped your breasts and started to knead them.  You shivered as he leaned down and blew on your nipples, causing them to peak.  Leaning down, he latched onto and suckled your nipple.  You moaned out, running your fingers through Chan’s hair.  He switched to your other nipple before trailing his hand down to your pussy.  You sighed as he slid his fingers through your folds, teasing you.  Gathering up some of your arousal, he brought two fingers to your entrance, sliding them in. He stretched you out with his fingers, dragging them in and out, before curling his fingers upward searching for that spot that drives you crazy.  You gasped out and gripped Chan’s hair tighter when he found that spot within you.  Chan smiled, as he continued to suck and knead your breast, while stroking your g-spot.  You were wiggling around as the pleasure became too much, feeling your high approaching. 

“Stay still babygirl, let me get you there.” 

You moaned and stilled your movements, tears pricking your eyes.  Chan brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly, as he kept rubbing your g-spot.  You were a mess, babbling out, “daddy, daddy, I’m close.  Can I cum please? Please let me cum, please, please.” Chan cooed at your babbling, giving you a kiss, before saying, “Go ahead and cum, baby girl. Cum for daddy.”  Your head flew back on the pillows and you rocked your hips violently as you came around Chan’s fingers, chanting, “daddy, I’m cumming, daddy, ahhhh.” Chan continued to rub your clit, as you came down from your high.  

“You're daddy’s good girl, hm?” Chan brought his fingers covered in your arousal to your lips, “Open up baby girl, go ahead and taste yourself.”  

You opened your mouth, suckling his fingers covered in your arousal, moaning at the taste.  You licked every last drop before he pulled his fingers away, giving you a kiss. 

“Good girl, such a good girl yeah?”  

You hummed and whined at his praise.  “Want your cock. Can I please have your cock daddy?” 

“Baby girl, needs my cock?  I’ll give you my cock, but we’re going to try something different today, yeah?”

You whimpered at the suggestion, not caring about what he was saying, as long as it led to him burying his cock deep in your pussy.  He hummed and gave you a wet kiss before saying “Go ahead and sit up.”  Chan made to get off the bed.  You were a little confused at his actions, but listened anyway.  

“Daddy’s gonna lift you up ok.” You cocked your head sideways, “You’re gonna lift me up?” 

“Mmmhmm.”  Chan walked toward you, “wrap your legs around me baby girl.”  You stood up and wrapped your legs around his hips like he instructed. You then wrapped your  arms around his neck and held on tight.  

 His hands went to grasp your ass, giving it a squeeze.  “Ready baby girl? Ready for my cock?”  You shook your head, “Yes daddy, always ready.”  Chan took one hand to grasp his cock and slid you down onto it.  You moaned at how deep he went in this position.  Chan started to bounce you on his cock, nearly hitting your cervix with each bounce.  You were lost in pleasure, a babbling mess, chanting “daddy, daddy, daddy.”  

Chan looked at his love, watching the emotions flood through your face.  “How does that feel, baby girl? Feel daddy’s cock deep inside?” He walked you backwards so your back could rest against the wall before thrusting hard upwards into your pussy.  You wrapped your arms tighter around Chan’s neck, little ‘ah ah ahs’ leaving your lips as Chan pounded into you. You felt close to your high, as with each thrust, Chan’s neatly trimmed pubic hair brushed against your clit.

Chan leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours for a heated kiss.  He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.  He had sweat dripping down his face, down his back, your pussy just felt that good.  

“You know what baby girl?  I only workout so I can pick you up.  So I can pick you up and pound that sweet, tight pussy of yours.  So you can feel me deep inside…and fill you up.”  

You groaned at his confession, “So strong daddy..ahhh, I’m close, so close.” 

“Baby girl is close? Yeah? Go ahead and let go, let go for daddy.”  His dirty words were just what you needed, you let go, letting your orgasm take over, leaning your head back against the wall, and letting out a loud moan.  Chan leaned forward and kissed your neck, not stopping with his thrusts.  

When you finally opened your eyes, Chan gave you a smirk and said, “I’m not done with you yet.” He turned around and threw you on the bed and flipped you onto your hands and knees.  He kneaded your ass, spreading apart your ass cheeks before letting some of his spit drip down between your ass.  You moaned at the sensation, arching your back further, presenting your pussy for him.  Chan brought his hand down, giving your ass a slap before kneading the area to soothe the pain.  He repeatedly slapped your ass,  listening to you moan which each smack. When he was done, there were red marks where his hand landed, causing him to smirk. “If only you could see yourself.” 

He brought his fingers down to your pussy once more, running them through your folds.  You whimpered at his touch, feeling overstimulated from your previous orgasm.  Despite this, your arousal was steadily dripping down your thighs, and Chan noticed.  “Need my cock again baby? Once wasn’t enough for you?”

“Ne..need your cock again daddy, please, please, need to be full of you!”

He hummed at this and grabbed his cock.  He hissed at his touch, he cock rock hard,  needing his release.  He brought his tip to your entrance and slammed his cock into you, bottoming out in one thrust.  He began pounding into you, without giving you warning.  The sound of your ass hitting his pelvis and Chan’s moans resounded throughout the room.  

Chan grabbed your hands and brought them behind your back, pulling you up to his chest.  He continued pounding into you.  No sound came out of your mouth, your lips formed into an O, the pleasure beyond amazing.  “Are you daddy’s good girl? Letting me use you like this, letting daddy have your pussy in any way he likes.”  

You couldn’t respond right away, lost in the immense pleasure Chan was giving you.  You finally found the words after a moment, mumbling “Hmmmmm da..daddy’s good girl, yeah, yeah your good girl.  Want your cum daddy,” you babbled.  What you to fill me up, please fill me up, breed this pussy.”

“Yeah? Want daddy to fill you up? Breed you full?” Chan let your hands go, continuing to pound into you as you fell onto the bed, face buried in the pillows, moaning and mumbling.  He grabbed your hips, squeezing them, as he rutted into you, feeling his high approaching. “Here ya go baby, here’s my cum, here’s daddy’s cum.” He rutted into you one last time, pressing his hips against yours.  You felt his cum flood your insides, and whimpered at the feeling.  

Once Chan came down from his high, he flipped you over onto your back.  He took one look at you, tears running down your face, lips red from you biting them, and gave you a kiss.  “My good girl, such a good girl.  Let me clean you up, yeah?”  Chan scooted down your legs, opening them so he could fit in between them.  You could barely register his actions until you felt his hot tongue on your pussy.  You squealed at the stimulation, beyond overstimulated.  

“Gotta clean you up baby girl, hold still.” Chan opened your lips with his fingers and lapped at your pussy, licking up both his cum and yours.  Your hands went to his hair, pulling at the strands, causing Chan to moan.  Between his tongue on your pussy, and the vibrations from his moans, you came hard, your vision going white, hearing fuzzy, and legs spasming.  Finally Chan leaned back, mouth covered in both his and your cum.  He hovered over you and leaned down to give you a kiss.  You latched onto him, tasting his cum and yours on his tongue, moaning at the taste.  

Chan was the first to break the kiss.  He laid down next to you, pulling your limp body into his.  “How are you doin baby girl?” He pressed kisses on your neck and shoulder.  You mumbled something, not completely coherent.  Chan chuckled and squeezed you tighter to him.  “You did good, so proud of you.”  You hummed at his praise and carefully turned your body so you could face him.  You gave Chan a kiss and just rested in his embrace.  Before you knew it, you started to doze off.  Chan nudged you and whispered, “No falling asleep yet baby, we gotta get you cleaned up, for real this time.” You mumbled what he thought was ok.  

Chan got up to run a bath.  He filled it with your favorite bubble bath and lit the candles you liked.  He came back into the bedroom and scooped you up.  Once he got to the bathtub, he gently placed you in it.  You sighed at the feeling of the warm water on your sore muscles.  Chan got in and sat behind you pulling you close to his chest.  You snuggled into him, sighing in content in more ways than one.  Chan stroked your back gently, pressing a kiss to your head.  “What’s going through that head of yours hm?” 

You hummed and said, “you’re my strong Channie.”  At this Chan chuckled, “I guess so.”  You were in thought for a while and then said, “Channie, can we try that again some time?” 

Chan looked down at you and smiled, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[lacydollette]

NYE KISS .ᐟ w/ bf!rafe

warnings new established relationship, slight angst, lost of fluff, kissing, rafe being a cutiepie

Rafe stood on the balcony of Tannyhill, his breath visible in the cold night air. He fiddled with the beer bottle in his hand, not really drinking it, just holding it to ease his nerves. The New Year’s party was in full swing inside, the music and laughter spilling out into the night, but Rafe wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His eyes kept drifting toward you.

You stood near the fire pit, face glowing in the flickering light. You were laughing at something Wheezie had said, head tilted back, and Rafe felt his chest tighten. You had a way of making him feel special, like his world was steady when you smiled at him.

You caught his gaze, and your smile softened. You excused yourself and walked over to him, little heels clinking on the wooden floor. “Hiding out again?” You teased gently, tugging your hands underneath your arms. Rafe shrugged, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Just needed some air.”

You gave him a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, you stepped closer, the faint scent of your vanilla perfume making his heart race. “You know, it’s almost midnight,” you mumbled, voice light but your eyes searching his. “Big moment and all.”

Rafe swallowed, his grip tightening on the bottle. He’d thought about this moment all week—whether to kiss you at midnight, if you even wanted him to. You’d been together for a few weeks now, but he still couldn’t believe you were with him. You were too good, too kind.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “Guess it is.”

The countdown started inside, the voices growing louder with each number. Rafe glanced toward the house, his nerves threatening to get the best of him. But then you reached out, your fingers brushing his arm, grounding him.

“Hey,” you said softly, drawing his attention back to you. “You okay?”He nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was. “I just… I don’t wanna screw this up.” You tilted your head, eyes warm and reassuring. “You won’t,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The final seconds of the countdown echoed through the night.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Rafe’s heart pounded in time with the chant, his eyes locked on yours.

“Seven… six… five…”

You stepped closer, your breath mingling with his in the cold night air.

“Four… three… two…”

And then, as the shouts of “Happy New Year!” erupted inside, you were the first to lean in and kiss him.

The world went quiet. For a moment, it was just you—your lips soft against his, hands lightly resting on his chest. Rafe let the beer bottle slip from his fingers, wrapping his arms around you instead, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him sane, which was definitely the case.

When you finally pulled back, you were smiling, cheeks flushed and heart pounding in your chest. “See?” You said, “Not so hard.”

Rafe laughed, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Guess not,” he admitted, his forehead resting against yours.

For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped in each other and the magic of the moment. But then, Rafe couldn’t help himself. The happiness bubbling inside him was too much to contain. He leaned in again, pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. And then another. And another.

You couldn’t help but giggle, hands rubbing lightly over his shoulders as he peppered you with kisses, his grin growing wider with each one. “Rafe!” You laughed, though you didn’t stop him.

“I can’t help it,” he said between pecks, his voice filled with a joy he hadn’t felt in years. “You’re too perfect.”

Your laughter softened into a sweet smile, and you reached up to cup his face, thumb brushing his cheek. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though your eyes sparkled with affection. You were so in love with this guy.

“Yeah, ridiculously obsessed with you,” he teased, his forehead pressing against yours once more.

You didn’t argue. Instead, you pulled him in for one more lingering kiss, sealing the promise of the year ahead—a year you’d face together, no matter what.

[hyuniepies]

Chef's Kiss - Bang Chan

pairing : bangchan x fem!reader

summary : your husband chan came home from a long day at work and knew exactly what he needed to relax.

contains : soft dom!chan, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, size kink, praise kink, belly bulge, slight overstimulation, creampie

words : 2.2k

Ever since you and Chan got married, it felt like the two of you managed to grow even more obsessed with each other. Whether you were at work or running errands, all you could think about was seeing him and you found it impossible to put off the urge to be with him at all times. You knew the problem was mutual as Chan had gotten so much more clingy, unable to spend a single second away from you.

However it soon became so much harder for you to spend time together as work piled up and your hectic schedules failed to align. At times you would come home late from work and find him passed out on the couch, and other times you would fall asleep waiting for him.

The clock strikes nine as you stand in front of the stove, stirring the pan of pasta as the savoury aroma lingers in the air. The only audible sound was the bubbling of the thick pasta sauce and your occasional sighs as you waited for Chan to arrive from his work meeting which happened to go on for a lot longer than you liked.

Just as your frustration starts to kick in, you hear the front door swing open and the sound of your husband Chan’s comforting voice echoes through your shared apartment.

“Baby I'm home.” He calls out to you as he drops his bag and walks to the kitchen. You look over your shoulder and there he is, standing with a soft smile which sadly failed to conceal his exhaustion. Your face lights up as you feel his soothing presence envelop you.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, his tired face resting in the crook of your neck.

“Mmm smells so good.” He mutters as he takes a long inhale and you're unsure if he refers to the food you're cooking.

“I know you're starving but it's almost done, so just a few more minutes.” You tell him and shift your attention back to the pan of pasta.

“Well, then can I spend some time with the chef first?” He asks as he plants a small kiss on the skin of your neck.

You can't help but giggle, “You could but, then you'll have to eat a cold dinner.”

“It's alright.” he mumbles in your neck as his right hand reaches for the stove knob and twists it, turning it off.

You turn around to face him, your expression a mixture of affection and concern as you stare at him. “You literally just got back, you need some rest.”

Chan’s grip around your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to himself, his body flush against yours. “But…I need you more.” He whispers as his hand sneaks behind you to find the flesh of your ass and gives it a light squeeze.

You wince at his sudden touch and look up at him. He lifts his other arm and uses his fingers to cup your face as he gently strokes his thumb across your cheek. The look on his face is soft yet filled with desire as his half-lidded eyes stare into yours.

His eyes shift to your lips and his face slowly gets closer, and closer to yours until your face is just a few inches apart from his. You shut your eyes closed and instantly feel his plump lips delicately press onto yours.

The kiss starts off sweet and slow, your lips gracefully moving against each other in a perfect rhythm, as if meant to fit together. Even though it was nothing special, your heart is racing as if it's the first time you've ever kissed.

Chan grows impatient and flicks his tongue against your lips, demanding your permission. You are quick to respond and soon enough, the movements of your hot mouths become faster and more aggressive.

His hand drops from your face to hook tightly around your waist and he picks you up. You immediately wrap your legs around his torso and grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you continue kissing him.

He turns around and takes a few steps towards the kitchen counter opposite to the stove, placing you on the cold marble surface. Chan pulls away and his mouth trails down to suck at the soft skin of your neck and exposed collarbones.

You tip your head back slightly, giving him better access to work his mouth on every inch of your burning skin. You hold the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair as small sighs of pleasure escape your throat.

You feel his hand crawl under your sweater to gently massage the tender flesh of your breast, his fingertips circling around your perked nipple. He lightly pinches and rolls the hardened bud between his index finger and thumb.

“Ah…” A quiet moan slips from your lips, and you tug on the strands of his hair as the overwhelming feeling engulfs you.

Your reaction tempts Chan and he uses his free hand to cup the mound of your pussy, slowly palming it through the thin fabric of your shorts.

“So wet already?” He pulls back from your neck and taunts you as his fingers rub the moist patch you didn't even realize was forming on the cotton.

He skillfully slides his fingers up and down your clothed pussy and you bite your lip, your cunt dripping even wetter at the blissful sensation. Your clit throbs painfully in the confines of your soaking shorts, begging to be touched as his piercing eyes stare into yours. This makes you roll your hips towards him in an attempt to push his fingers deeper inside your folds.

“God, you're so desperate.” He utters in a low voice.

His hand stops moving and you suddenly feel his finger add pressure on the aching bundle of nerves in your pussy. Your back arches, head jerking back at the immense wave of arousal washing over you.

“Ugh- Chan…” You whimper in a pathetic tone as your hand drops from his head to grip the edge of the countertop.

“You like that?” He presses even harder on your swollen clit, while his other hand drops from your tit to rest on your thigh.

“Chan, please…” 

“Please what?” He questions.

“I want you.”

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He says as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

Your body squirms, unable to contain the heat pooling at your core any longer. 

“Ah- please, I want you to fuck me.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes, mouth slightly parted and his expression softens at the sight. He removes his hand from your thigh and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then I should give my baby what she wants.” His fingers grip the soft wool of your sweater and pull it up, taking it off of you and tossing it on the floor. He takes a second to admire your body, his eyes shifting from the hickeys he just left to your bare tits.

Chan reaches for the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips up, making it easier for him to peel the piece of fabric off. You sit in front of him fully naked and he traces your figure with his eyes as if he had never seen you like this before.

“You're so fucking hot you know that?” He asks as his eyes come back up to meet yours and a shy smile spreads on your face.

Before you know it, his hand is back on your pussy, this time without the annoying fabric separating you from his touch. His digits travel downward till they lightly hover over your slicked core and without warning, his finger slips knuckle deep inside you.

“S-shit.” The sudden sensation makes you whimper and soon after, you feel him add another finger inside your aching cunt. He slowly pumps his long fingers in and out of you, small moans falling from your lips as your eyes pinch close.

He pulls his fingers out of you and you let out a sad whine at the loss of stimulation and look up at him.

“Lay back for me.” Chan commands, his voice almost a whisper.

You immediately lean backwards till the skin of your back hits the cool marble, your feet dangling in the air. His hands rush to unbutton his work shirt and he takes it off of himself before unzipping his pants. He pulls it down along with his underwear and you spread your legs even further apart, your juices dripping out onto the counter.

His cock jumps out, precum leaking from the red tip as he wraps his fingers around the thick shaft. Even though you've taken it so many times before, the sheer size of it never fails to intimidate you.

He taps his dick on your soppy cunt a few times, watching it clench around nothing in desperation. He slowly guides his fat tip into your hole and your jaw falls open as you feel your pussy stretch around his thick cock. 

“Fuck, you're so tight.” He curses under his breath.

He continues pushing himself inside you inch by inch and your vision starts to blur, the heat in your abdomen threatening to spill.

“It’s s-so big.” You cry out as he fills you up.

“But you're taking me so well baby.”

Chan lets out a deep groan as the last bit of his length enters you and you feel his tip press against your cervix. Your brain goes fuzzy, the blood in your arteries boiling hot as he bottoms out in you.

“Your pretty pussy’s sucking me right in.” He praises as you clench around his base, pulling him deeper inside your gummy walls. His hands grab the back of your knees and he presses your legs down till they touch your chest, folding you in half.

He slides his dick out of you, till only his tip remains in your drenched cunt and slams it back into you with a harsh jerk of his hips. You feel the head of his cock hit the soft spot in your belly even harder this time.

“Ah- fuck!” A loud moan escapes your throat as he starts pounding in and out of your pussy at a fast pace and your body jolts up. You feel your bones turn to jelly, stars twinkling across your closed eyelids as the hot pit in your stomach sends vibrations through your nerves.

You lift your head from where it rested on the counter and look down to see his cock repeatedly bulge out of your belly with each thrust of his hips.

“Ugh- you're so deep!” You whine as the heat at your core continues spreading through you.

He lets go of one of your legs and places his veiny hand on your lower belly, pressing down on the bulge. He simultaneously picks up his pace, ramming into your spongy walls harder and faster and you throw your head back, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“God, right there!” You almost yell out as his cock kisses your sweet spot over and over again. Chan's heavy panting mixed with the lewd squelching sounds of your pussy fill the kitchen air, but you are too fucked out to hear any of it.

His hands grab your waist, nails digging crescent shapes into your skin as you feel his veins pulsate and twitch inside your puffy cunt. 

“Fucking shit!” He swears in a raspy voice.

His fingers move down to toy with your sensitive clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your toes curl as you feel the familiar sensation build up between your legs, waiting to throw you over the edge anytime now.

“G-gonna cum!” You whimper loudly.

His next thrust hits you harder than you expect and sends your mind spiraling into another dimension as your long awaited orgasm rips through you. You squeal in a high pitched voice, your body shaking as Chan fucks you through your high.

“There you go baby, cum on my cock like a good girl.” He says as he chases his own high, his pace unsteady and sloppy. 

He continues fucking into your overstimulated pussy and your muscles tightens, the intense pleasure almost unbearable. You open your eyes slightly and through your blurred vision, see Chan's eyes shut and his brows furrowed. 

“Gonna fill you up so nice.”

Before your brain can process his words, he shoots his load deep into you as a low grunt exits his lips. You gasp as the warm white strings coat your walls and fill you up. 

His thrusts slow down as he rides out his high, his cock sticky with your wetness and his own cum. He stops moving and pulls his dick out of your pussy, his cum dripping out of your hole.

You lay on the countertop, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. You have no energy left in your body to sit up or enough brainpower to even try and Chan knows that.

He hooks his arm under your waist as his other hand supports the back of your neck and he pulls you up into his embrace. He holds you tight, the comforting warmth of his skin seeping into your body and you almost fall asleep right there.

“I missed you.” He says in a soft voice as he strokes your hair.

“I missed you too.”

[not-magdi]

-soft mornings / Lando Norris

Warnings : none (maybe some pregnancy-fever)

Words: 900

Reading time : 3min 45 sec

A/N

I‘m currently having the biggest baby fever, this was my inspiration for this post.

Hope you enjoy it!

Love you guys, Magdi <3

The soft light of the Monaco morning seeped through the sheer curtains, painting the bedroom in gentle hues of gold. Y/N stirred slightly, nestled against the warmth of Lando’s chest. His arm was draped protectively around her, his hand resting on the curve of her growing belly. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, a soothing rhythm that lulled her in and out of a comfortable haze.

“Morning, love,” Lando murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. His curls tickled her cheek, and she couldn’t help but smile softly, her eyes still closed.

“Morning,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible as she shifted closer, burrowing herself deeper into his embrace.

Lando’s hand moved gently over her belly, his touch light but reverent. “And good morning to you too, little one,” he added, his tone warm and playful. He rubbed slow circles over the bump, his voice dropping to a soft murmur as he spoke to their baby. “You keeping Mum comfy in there? Let her sleep a bit longer today, yeah? You can kick me later if you want.”

Y/N chuckled softly at his words, her smile widening. “You talk to her more than you talk to me these days,” she teased, her eyes fluttering open to find Lando’s boyish grin.

“That’s because she listens to me,” he quipped, feigning a pout. Then, as if he couldn’t resist, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her belly. “You’re going to be a good listener, aren’t you, baby girl? Not like your mum.”

“Oi!” Y/N laughed, swatting his arm lightly, though the joy in her voice betrayed her attempt at being stern. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” Lando countered, pulling her closer still. His arms wrapped around her fully now, his chin resting on her shoulder as he continued to cradle her bump.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled together in the warmth of their bed, until Y/N finally stirred, stretching slightly. “Alright,” she murmured, “I suppose we should get up before you smother me with affection.”

“Smother you? Never,” Lando teased, helping her sit up. “But fine, let’s get you fed. Can’t have my girls going hungry.”

———-

The kitchen was bathed in soft morning light as Lando rummaged through the fridge. “How about pancakes? Or eggs? Wait, no—both,” he said, his excitement bubbling over.

Y/N leaned against the counter, her hand resting on her belly as she watched him with a fond smile. “Both sounds good,” she agreed.

“Perfect.” Lando grinned and walked over to her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before crouching down to kiss her belly again. “Hear that, baby girl? Pancakes and eggs. You’ve got great taste, just like your mum.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but laughed, letting him take her hand and lead her toward the counter. “Alright, chef, tell me what to do.”

“You,” Lando said, spinning her gently and placing his hands on her shoulders, “are going to sit right here and supervise.” He pulled out a stool for her, making sure she was comfortable before diving into his pancake batter preparations.

But Y/N wasn’t one to sit still for long. “Lando, I’m pregnant, not incapable,” she protested, standing up to grab the whisk.

Lando gave her a playful pout but didn’t argue, instead sidling up beside her as they worked together. As Y/N whisked the batter, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Teamwork,” he murmured, swaying slightly with her.

“You’re clingy today,” Y/N teased, though she didn’t mind one bit.

“Just excited,” he admitted, his voice soft. His hands found their way to her belly again, rubbing gentle circles. “It’s getting so real, you know? She’s really in there.”

Y/N smiled, leaning back against him. “She is,” she said quietly, her free hand covering his.

As the batter was poured onto the pan, Lando suddenly said, “Speaking of her, we should really narrow down some names. I mean, we can’t just keep calling her ‘baby girl’ forever.”

Y/N laughed. “Alright, Mr. Planner. What’s on your list?”

Lando turned thoughtful, flipping a pancake before answering. “I like Ella,” he said. “Short, sweet. What about you?”

“Ella’s nice,” Y/N agreed, tilting her head. “I’ve always liked names like Sophie or Amelia. Something classic.”

“Amelia’s cute,” Lando said, testing the sound of it. “Amelia Norris. Sophie Norris. Hmm.” He glanced over his shoulder at her with a grin. “What if we went a little wild? Like Nova or Luna?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Nova? Are you trying to make her a future Formula 1 driver already?”

“Could be,” Lando said with a laugh. “We need a name with star power.”

“Well, let’s keep a few options in mind,” Y/N said, resting her chin on his shoulder as he plated the pancakes. “We’ve still got time to decide.”

“True,” Lando agreed, turning to kiss her cheek. “But whatever her name is, she’s going to be the luckiest little girl in the world. She’s got you as her mum.”

“And you as her dad,” Y/N countered, her voice full of warmth.

Lando’s grin softened, his eyes full of love as he pulled her in for a proper hug, one hand inevitably finding its way back to her belly. “She’s got us,” he said simply.

————-

Would you like me to make a little series out of this?

If yes let me know in the comments ! ❤️

[carnations-fixations]

God, listened to something the other night and I can't stop thinking about like, working a terrible office job an just totally zoning out for an hour, playing solitaire or tetris on your computer until your boss calls you into her office

And you're just like oh fuck oh fuck she's gonna fire me oh shit oh shit-

Then you finally get into her office and she's sitting at her desk, rubbing her temple and staring at her computer with pure fucking disdain

You manage to squeak out a small "You wanted to see me?" And she looks up, her face relaxing almost imperceptibly. She tells you to sit and you do, not giving your obedience a second thought. You're still terrified you'll be out of a job.

"This meeting is killing me, and I know you're not doing any work in there, so you're going to stay here with me until it's over."

You look at her confused.

"I've seen you check me out more than enough times by now, love. Now, you can absolutely walk back out that door and keep not-working, I assure you no one's stopping you, or you can stay here and earn a little bonus."

Now you understand what's happening. She points to the floor next to her and you stand, walking over and kneeling. You think about leaving. You think about quitting. But she's right, you've been very attracted to her since the moment you saw her, and you struggle to keep your eyes off her body. So maybe this isn't so bad

She starts by just petting your hair as you sit there, staring forward and feeling a cocktail of anxiety, fear, and excitement bubbling in your chest. Then she gets even more bored, and slowly turns her chair so that you're facing each other instead of being side by side

"Last chance," She says, staring lasers into your skull. You can't bring yourself to meet her gaze, but you stay right where you are, obediently making your allegiance clear.

"Good girl," She says, opening her legs. She puts your head between her thighs, not taking off her pants, at least not yet. You finally look up at her, and she's staring at you with the most intense adoration you've ever been subject to. She's surprisingly gentle, simply petting your hair and looking down at you. Her pants are starting to bulge, the sight of you between her legs enough to get her aroused.

You feel daring enough to, while keeping eye contact, kiss her inner thigh. She grins and nods.

"Go on, doll."

Your chest feels like it's wrapped around a nuclear core. Jesus Christ this is hot- you look away, blushing profusely, and she slaps you. Not exceedingly hard, but it stings and sends a message.

"Eyes up here, doll."

You nod again, looking back up at her and placing gentle kisses on her thighs, moving higher... higher... until her grip on your hair becomes somewhat sadistic, pushing you closer to her now-prominent bulge.

You kiss and nuzzle and- god she smells fucking good- it's already enough to get you feeling high off her scent. She nods and pets you, pushing you down, although you don't need it. You'd already be grinding your face against her regardless.

Finally, you get brave, and reach up to her belt.

"That's it, dolly, go ahead- You know how to please Mommy, don't you~?"

God- No one's really talked to you like this before, and it makes your head swim, forgetting the inappropriate nature of all of this. All you want is to make her happy- You undo her belt with shaking hands and unzip her pants, just pulling them apart enough to get to what you need-

She's nice enough to help you pull her panties down, and you finally have access to her long, throbbing cock. A sound escapes you, like an excited squeak.

"Aww, little puppy wants a treat?"

You feel hot and fuzzy and strange and all you can think about is sucking Mommy's cock like a good little whore- you don't even know where these impulses come from. At this point, you don't care. You just inhale and let the scent of her musk erase all your thoughts.

"Open."

You obey.

She lowers herself onto your tongue.

"Suck."

You obey.

She pushes your head down, lower, until you're gagging harshly.

"Good fuckin' girl- Mnh--fuck, you're not too bad at this, I should keep you around-- nnNNgh-"

Hearing her voice break only makes your mind break double, looking up at her and sucking like your life is on the line, She bites back loud moans, dictating your pace with a hand in your hair. As she starts to get rougher and rougher, you can't help but feel so, so needy- hitting your uvula and making you gag, something you never thought you'd like, is like heaven in her hands.

"Mmn-- God you're such a good little whore for Mommy- NHfh--"

The praise only makes you more excited, and you find yourself starting to grind on her wing-tip Oxford's, whining on her cock. She doesn't notice, too distracted by your mouth, she starts to roughly fuck your face, hold you steady as she bucks her hips.

You feel her tense, and you whine, pushing yourself down all the way as she cums down your throat. The noise you make is depraved, and she responds with a low, gutteral groan, holding you down and breathing heavily.

Finally, she let's you up, her seed dripping down your chin from what you couldn't swallow. She takes her finger and runs it up your chin, gathering up the string that's fallen out, and shoves it in your mouth.

"Good fucking girl, perfect for Mommy... Now, clean her off."

You lick and suck at the tip of her limp cock, cleaning off all of the cum you can before putting her dick away. You're still grinding on her shoe, not even really thinking about it, but you're making noises that tip her off, and now that you're not choking on her cock you notice how close you are.

"Aww, little slut got so worked up she couldn't help herself, huh?"

You nod, whining and holding onto her leg.

"Are you close, doll?"

You nod again.

"Go ahead baby, keep going. I want you to cum for Mommy, okay? Just keep going and say Mommy's name when you cum, doll"

You nod again, quickly and appreciatively, grinding and whimpering as you feel your orgasm flood closer. You manage to whine out a single word as you cum, ruining yourself in her office.

"Mnhhh- Mm-Monmy--!!"

She pets your hair and smiles down at you, clearly pleased at your obedience as you ruin yourself on her shoe.

Well, now there's a problem. You're panting and shaking on the floor, covered in her cum and your own, and you still have another 3 hours of work.

"You can clean up in my office's bathroom, darling, take your time. I want you to finish out the day in that skirt, though. Some people have been getting a little too friendly with my doll, and they need to be reminded who you belong to."

You mumble out a slurred "Yes Mommy" as you sit limp against her leg, catching your breath.

Something tells you this isn't a one time deal.

[malfoyscoffee]

call me theo ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader about fluff, angst | 1.7k words | exes to lovers warnings mentions of time skip, use of y/n, and a dumb theo

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

That marked the end of your two-year relationship with Theodore. As he said his final word, you turned away, walking down the winding steps of the Astronomy Tower, holding back the emotions until you returned to your dormitory.

The night blurred into a haze of tears, finding comfort in Pansy’s shoulder as both of you nestled on the dorm floor. Hours passed in a cocoon of sadness before Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and even Draco appeared with snacks and muggle movies, trying to lift your spirits.

Wrapped up in your distress, you didn't think to ask how they found out about your breakup. Unbeknownst to you, amidst his own pain, Theodore asked his friends to comfort you instead of him.

Three weeks had gone by since the breakup. As promised, you and Theodore went back to being friends, just like before, merely two friends within the same tight-knit circle. But beneath the surface of friendliness, your friends noticed the underlying tension between you and Theodore, silently wishing for a reunion.

It was a random morning in the Great Hall when you announced to your friends that you would be occupied before dinner to take on the extra credit assignment for Herbology. Your friends looked at you strangely, the assignment was unnecessary for someone with such high marks, but inside you wanted a distraction from everything. 

Back in the common room, the attention shifted to Theodore, the elephant in the room finally about to be addressed. 

“So, what led to the breakup?” Blaise relaxed in his chair while Theodore sighed, looking at the ceiling. 

“She didn’t say why, but she mentioned that you initiated the breakup,” Draco said casually, trying to hide his interest in the situation.

“I told her she deserved better.”

Silence.

Suddenly, Lorenzo burst into laughter.

“Salazar, Enzo,” Pansy stood, disregarding Lorenzo's reaction. “So, let me get this straight,” she pointed her finger at Theodore, “You're saying the reason the group has been down is because you decided she deserved someone better?”

Mattheo set aside his cigarette, “Didn’t expect you to be so naive, mate.”

Blaise nodded, “Thinking that's an explanation. Y/n adores you, where will you find a girl better than her?”

Theodore’s face paled, “She’ll find someone better and eventually leave me. I couldn’t handle that.”

Draco stayed composed, “So you ended it first. Well done, Theo.”

Theodore buried his face in his hands, letting out an exasperated groan. “You all know she has a promising future after graduation. Why should she stay with me and be held back?”

“Did you talk to her about this, or did your insecurities make the call?” Lorenzo’s words made Theodore freeze, lost in thought.

Pansy packed up, checking the time. “Dinner’s soon. Let’s go.”

The boys followed Pansy, leaving Theodore alone, contemplating if his decision was right for your relationship.

"I got the job!"

Strolling around Hogsmeade with Blaise and Pansy, you stumbled upon a new place—a wizarding coffee shop. Your liking for muggle coffeehouses sparked your curiosity, pushing you to ask about potential employment.

Excitement bubbled as you shared the news with your friends in the Great Hall.

“We’ve got a place to visit now.” Lorenzo grinned, aware it might bring some joy after a while.

Pansy nudged Draco, "Let’s study there. OWLS are coming up and some muggle coffee might help."

Draco glanced at Theodore, who sat in silence, unsure of what to say. “That sounds like a plan. I could use some muggle coffee.”

They all knew Draco was convincing Theodore to join.

"When do you start?" Mattheo asked between sips of hot chocolate.

You remembered your upcoming schedule, “Next week, Wednesdays and Saturdays? Once I’m trained, next Saturday, I’ll treat you all to some amazing muggle coffee."

The group agreed, planning to meet at your workplace next Saturday.

“Five cups of regular iced coffee, please.” You operated the muggle machine, engrossed in fulfilling the order.

“Oh, hey, Theodore. Are the others here?” You looked around, causing Theodore’s shoulders to slump slightly.

“They're at the big corner table. Enzo insisted the natural sunlight would help with studying…”

A soft chuckle escaped, “You can go back, I’ll bring the drinks over when ready.” Theodore nodded, returning to the café’s corner.

Blaise grabbed the first cup but stopped when Pansy teased him. “Don’t hog! Share!”

“How does it taste?” you asked, turning to your friends.

“Y/n, muggle coffee is amazing.” Mattheo praised, soon followed by Blaise signaling he finished his drink.

“I should tell my father about this place,” Draco chimed in, and before you knew it, all the cups were empty.

“I should get back to work, see you at dinner.”

“What time do you finish?” Theodore's sudden interest surprised everyone.

“Y/n?”

"I'm done around six," You said while feeling a bit overwhelmed inside.

Theodore nodded, indicating your return to work.

Numerous customers kept you busy. Though you didn’t need money, the experience was enriching.

While your friends left at five, Theodore stayed. He moved to a quiet spot facing the counter where you worked.

Ignoring his shift, you focused on the new customers who walked in.

“Y/n, it's six, you can leave,” your boss said, offering a pastry.

“Thanks,” grabbing your coat, you started to leave the kitchen.

“Are you done?” Theodore was poised by the counter, waiting for your response.

“Theodore, did you wait?”

Signaling to walk together, he said, “I had a few assignments that I wanted to finish early so I stayed longer.” His nervous fidgeting gave away his lie, his habit you remembered from your past relationship. 

You hummed, touched by his waiting. 

“I might visit often. I didn't mention earlier, but the coffee’s great.”

Walking back to Hogwarts, feelings for Theodore surfaced since the breakup.

How could you move on when he acted this way?

For two months, Theodore kept his promise, visiting the café every Wednesday and Saturday, bringing schoolwork, and leaving with you.

You felt the emotions returning but you were scared to get hurt. After all, he initiated the breakup, right?

Your friends noticed Theodore’s absence on your workdays, understanding where Theodore was without verbal explanation. 

“One large iced coffee, please.” You prepared a cup, “And your name?”

“Theo.”

“Oh,” You looked up at Theodore. “One large iced coffee for Theodore.” You repeated his order and placed the cup down. 

“Why don’t you call me Theo anymore?” His disappointment was evident.

Meeting his gaze, you explained, “Because we’re just friends.”

Theodore observed the cup, then you.

“You know what, I think I forgot something at my dorm. I’m going to go.” His tone was sharper than he meant, leaving the café abruptly.

“Now you're the clueless one. Salazar, why do I have two of them?” Lorenzo dramatized, earning an eye roll from you.

Theodore disappeared after the café meeting. Unaware of his whereabouts, your friends gathered in the common room, waiting for his return.

“I mean, Y/n, Enzo's right,” Pansy said, sipping the muggle coffee you brewed for the group.

“He ended things months ago. I don’t see why you're all on his side.” Frowning, you didn’t grasp their empathy toward Theodore.

“Y/n, listen,” Blaise interrupted, “Regardless of who initiated the breakup, Theodore has come to your café twice a week for months, just to spend time with you.”

Draco echoed Blaise’s sentiments. “OWLS were done a month ago, yet he still visits. Give Theo credit for trying.”

You sighed, “I care for him, but I don’t want to be hurt again. He should just tell me. His actions are misleading if he doesn’t want to reconcile.”

Lost in thought, the warmth of the common room enveloped you, the crackling fire providing a soothing ambiance.

As evening approached, your thoughts circled Theodore’s sudden exit from the café, leaving you unsettled, your mind in disarray.

Unnoticed, the common room door creaked open. Theodore entered, visibly anxious. His eyes met yours, a blend of hesitation and resolve painting his expression.

The room fell silent as Theodore approached you, a mix of emotions playing across his face. Without a word, you got up and led him out of the common room.

The two of you reached the Blake Lake, facing each other, as the tension filled the air. Theodore struggled with his thoughts, torn between holding back and speaking up.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he started, a hint of regret in his tone. “I didn’t mean to leave abruptly. I've been struggling, Y/n.”

“Struggling? With what, Theodore?”

Gathering his thoughts, he spoke earnestly. “With everything between us. The breakup wasn't about not caring about you. I was scared.”

“Scared?” Your voice softened, understanding blooming within.

Theodore nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I was scared that you would realize I was holding you back and leave me. So I thought if I let you go, you would be better off.”

Your heart ached, his honesty striking a chord with your own doubts. “But, Theodore, you never gave me a chance to choose. You made that decision for me.”

“I know, and I regret it every day.” Remorse filled his words, and his vulnerability was evident. “I visited the café because I wanted to be near you. But I understand if it’s been confusing for you.”

Silence hung, emotions swirling like a storm.

“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered, emotions stirring within.

He met your gaze, “I don't want to lose you again, Y/n. I want us to start over, I'll do everything to make things right.”

“Let's take it slow, Theodore. Start over and let's see where it takes us.”

A soft smile appeared on his face, relief in his eyes. “I promise, I'll do everything.”

"I've missed this," Theodore confessed softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.

You gently squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Me too. I think we both needed this time to figure things out."

Theodore stopped walking, turning to face you with resolve. "I want us to try again, to be together, properly this time.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that reassured you more than any words could. "I want that too, Theodore. Let's give us another chance."

With that shared agreement, a sense of relief and joy washed over both of you. Walking hand in hand, Theodore smiled for the first time in months.

“Now, will you call me Theo?”