#i'm not sure this was what u had in mind but !! here it is x

[g1rld1ary]

our names in the paper - footballer!james potter x fem!sports journalist!reader

wc: 11,151

cw: swearing, fade to black but suggestive moments?, smoking, slut-shaming, kissing

info: r and james are about 24, set in 2007ish solely for the romcom vibes. james is the equivalent of like David Beckham in his prime, all pics are for vibes only, not reflective of r's appearance etc

me: i've been working on this for soooo long i am so happy it's finally done!! if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms and i am honestly so proud of it so praying it doesn't flop LOL

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"James, James! Over here! What's the defence strategy this season?"

If you had to hear James' name one more time you might scream. Unfortunately, you were locked in a room with nothing but that. Worse, you were part of the problem.

"Mister Potter, what do you think about your striker's goal-to-game ratio falling rapidly this season?" You called, begrudgingly hoping for a moment of the soccer star's attention. Fortunately (or unfortunately), his glittering eyes settled on you, singling you out from the room of hungry journalists.

"I think that you miss one hundred per cent of the shots you don't take," He said, smirk turning to something challenging, "And as long as my team is training and working together, I'm not gonna cry over a bit of spilt milk or missed goals. And, as far as I'm concerned we're still winning games, aren't we?" You rolled your eyes, scribbling down his answer nonetheless.

You continued the catfight of trying to get answers for your newest article, keeping the balance of vying for James' attention and showing him you didn't care for him personally, unlike the other journalists you were pushing against. The conference room was full of men and women who wanted to be James or be with him. Aside from the professional questions, there were certainly several invitations to the pub thrown around, and you were sure you saw one woman try and give him her cellphone number. You rolled your eyes again at that, James was nothing to fawn over.

He might be a big shot now, but you'd known him almost all your life. The two of you had gone to school together and had bickered through every interaction since then. James had always wanted to be a football star, and you a journalist. You'd never believed in him and vice versa, both of you taking every opportunity to tease the other or cut each other down. Maybe it was just clashing personalities, two people too ambitious to be friends. The rivalry had lasted past school, and unfortunately, the two of you often crossed paths in your respective careers.

The press conference wrapped up soon after your question, and you ended up lingering in the room trying to finish your notes. James was still over at his podium next to his coach, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and arduously texting on his flip phone. Seeing you hovering by the door he called your last name, sauntering up behind you. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for the encounter.

"Potter." You smiled curtly, moving to leave.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr Potter' during the conferences, you know. James is perfectly fine, everyone else calls me that."

"Just trying to stay professional," You said through gritted teeth, aware his coach and a few others were still around you. It could cost you your job to snap at him.

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold," You whispered, glancing around anxiously. James laughed at your distress which only annoyed you further. Maybe he could get away with anything, but you had to fight for your place in your field as a female sports journalist, you couldn't afford to take it lightly.

You couldn't help the physical reaction to being trapped between James and the wall though, your breathing shallow and quick, face tilted up slightly to look at him. You felt a bit like prey, caught in the predator's territory and resigned to imminent death.

"Let her go, will you? She's just doing her job," Remus Lupin said, entering the conference room with his nose crinkled from the smell. You couldn't blame him, sweaty players and hungry journalists didn't make any kind of utopia together.

"I wasn't doing anything!" James cried, hands up in surrender, "Come on love, I was just giving you the scoop, right?"

"First of all, if you were giving me 'the scoop' right now I'd certainly be accused of sleeping to the top by all the blokes waiting out there," You gestured to the group of other reporters still lingering in the hall waiting for any scraps of information, "And secondly, I work for the bloody Sunday People, not the BBC. I honestly think they'd rather I just write about your 'dashing good looks' or a drug scandal than your games," You complained, falling back into the ease of conversation now that Remus was there. He'd been at school with the both of you, growing up to be a physiotherapist, but was always much more palatable than James.

Both men laughed at your plight.

"If you ever need a more detailed look at my dashing good looks just ask, sweetheart. I'd be glad to show you, you know, for your articles." You rolled your eyes at James' attempt to be charming, snapping your notebook shut.

"Alright, I think that's my cue to go," You said curtly, smoothing out your work trousers. "Remus, I'll return Dracula next time I see you; I'm almost finished." You remembered you'd had his novel for quite a while, sparing him a smile on the way out.

"You lend her books?" James asked incredulously, hazel eyes curiously following your figure down the hall. Remus just shrugged, patting James on the shoulder and attending to his actual job, checking up on the players after the match.

James was still hung up on the fact when he returned to the apartment he shared with Remus and Sirius, flabbergasted as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Since when are you two close enough to be sharing books?" He cried as he paced through the kitchen, "Have we not all been in agreement that she is stubborn and hard-headed and annoying and has been since school?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "You decided that, and I daresay she feels the same about you. I've always rather liked her."

James was unexpectedly dumbfounded at the realisation that you weren’t the common enemy he thought you were. Even Sirius didn’t seem to dislike you, always stopping for a chat when you were around the stadium and giving you extra comments with a flirty wink.

James didn’t need to think about you for another few weeks; his team hadn’t played one week and you’d been assigned other matches for the others — he read your very amusing pieces on lawn bowls and chess-boxing, partly because he knew you’d hate the assignment.

You were blissfully apart until one Saturday night. You were out with your friends and a few coworkers and James was out with his. He’d started in the local pub while you were at a fancy cocktail restaurant for Lily’s bachelorette party, however, your groups crossed paths in the depths of a nightclub.

Maybe you were getting too old for them, waking up with sore backs and knees after nights of dancing, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t give it a red hot go. And with a few cocktails in your system, nobody could convince you it wasn’t a good idea.

You'd been shaking what your mother gave you for the better part of an hour before it was your turn to get another round, telling the girls you'd be back before stumbling through a sea of sweaty bodies.

Some gross man who was definitely too old for you obstructed your path, grabbing your arms to make you dance with him. Your face crinkled in disgust of its own accord, trying to wiggle yourself free. He continued to encroach on your space, forcing you around despite your persistence. Finally, a man's hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away and subsequently freeing you from his grasp. The momentum sent you tumbling in your strappy heels, right into something warm and solid. You cringed, having been there before. You turned slowly to meet your unwitting saviour, huffing when you realised it was James.

"Oh, fuck off," You grumbled, mostly to yourself, producing a quick apology to not seem totally impolite.

"Alright?" Sirius asked, revealing himself as the one who'd gotten you away from the creep. You shrugged, fixing your hair.

"Been better," You told him, preparing to leave before seemingly their whole team had surrounded you, all greeting you loudly. You weakly waved at them, feeling dreadfully underdressed and professional. You were used to seeing them in the stadium and press conferences where you were much more modestly dressed. The strapless mini dress wasn't giving you the same layer of protection.

"Right," You said when there didn't seem to be any more productive conversation happening, "I'm off to the bar then."

"Let me buy you a drink, to make up for the freak," One of the players, Frank, said. You smiled but shook your head.

"I'm buying for several, it wouldn't be fair. It's Lily's bachelorette." You directed the last sentence to those who knew her, the football and journalism professions having considerable overlap due to events and the never-ending scandals and interviews. James covered his face in mock-devastation.

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?" He moaned, earning some shoves from the rest of the group. You and Lily had been friends since uni, and you'd introduced her to the boys at one of the terrible house parties you'd endured over your three years studying. James had developed a thing for her right away (no one knew how much of it was serious and how much was for comedic value) and had been loudly pining for her ever since, despite her long-term relationship with Dirk Cresswell, an economist who worked in the building down the block from your office.

"I think you missed your chance the first time," You retorted with a snort, a little drunk to have any ferocity in your tone. You both made a face at each other, ignoring the laughter of those around you. You dismissed the group and danced away, shaking your arse over to the bar.

A few rounds later and you were not in your best shape. The girls had been absolute menaces, feeding you shots and deceiving colourful cocktails that actually held like seven standards in them, and you were certainly feeling the effects. You excused yourself from the group to find a loo, bile rising in your throat as you pushed past dancers, not even sparing a comment for James as you saw him.

That confused both James and his friends, becoming used to your insistent teasing over the years. He exchanged a look with Sirius, following you through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

He figured something was wrong when you burst into the gender-neutral bathrooms, not bothering to lock the door behind you. James and Sirius silently fought about who was going to follow you in and check on you; James found you insufferable, Sirius had severe emetophobia and would probably throw up himself if he had to be close to you vomiting. James rolled his eyes, it was his responsibility. Sirius clapped him on the back gratefully, leaving him to return to the others. James sighed, reciting some affirmations before he cracked the door open, calling out to you.

When you responded with a disgusting wretch, James slipped inside, gagging a little as he saw you leant over the toilet bowl, bare knees on the grimy tile floor.

"Alright?" He asked for lack of anything better, unsurprised when you replied with another gag.

"I feel ill," You said pathetically, head hung low in the bowl which James knew you would resent tomorrow. He laughed quietly, getting closer to you.

"No shit, idiot," His tone was light as he began to rub your back softly, making sure your hair was away from your mouth. You vomited a few more times, your body reacting in violent hurls as James tried to be both soothing and as far away as possible.

When your stomach was finally empty you slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed against the cool porcelain.

"Woah," James pulled you up to a sitting position, "That cannot be good for your skin. Let's get you home, okay?" You nodded petulantly, letting yourself be led out through the club, James telling Lily he'd make sure you got home (and congratulated her on the upcoming wedding).

"Can we get some gum or something? My throat tastes like vom." James looked down at you from where you were lodged into his side, legs shaky as you wobbled down the street. He sighed and steered you in the direction of a convenience store, picking out strawberry gum for you since it tasted better than mint, your words. Good you thought when he paid for it, the football star can shell out 2 pounds, makes more than you anyhow.

You chewed happily, stumbling down the pavement as James held onto you, keeping you upright.

"You're so muscly," You said, somewhat in a drunken haze.

"Thank you?" James laughed, patting you softly on the forearm he was holding. To be fair, you weren't quite sure if it was a compliment either. Your words were admittedly oddly nice but your tone made it confusing, drunk thoughts not completely translating to sober dynamics.

You meandered for a few oddly peaceful minutes, neither of you starting an argument or picking a fight. It was a nice break from normal, the two of you even sharing some peaceful small talk -- discussing a movie you'd both seen recently.

Of course, nothing good lasts.

"James!" A voice yelled from the other side of the street, a short man with mousy mannerisms. James groaned beside you.

"Peter Pettigrew," He whispered to you, trying to pull you along faster, "We used to be mates but turns out he was just using me to get team secrets out into the papers." You whipped your head around to look at him. Oh! You knew Pettigrew, unsurprising given you both reported on essentially the same topics, but he had a bad name even in your circles. He was closer to a paparazzi than a journalist, going for the cheap stories and ad hominem approaches rather than searching for any meaningful insights. Simply put, in an already sleazy career, Peter Pettigrew was the bottom of the barrel.

"Later, mate. I'm in the middle of something right now." James put his arm around your shoulder, better shielding you as he tried to make a getaway. The telltale flash of a camera reflected off the grey pavement, making both you and James whip your heads around to face Peter, looking hardly ashamed of himself. After a moment of shock, you both covered your faces, stumbling down the street as fast as you could manage. The damage was already done.

Suddenly you didn't feel as drunk, navigating the cobblestone streets with unanticipated nimbleness. James might've had the athlete's advantage but you were on home turf, leading him through local shortcuts and to the front door of your apartment building.

On the journey over you'd attracted a few more photographers all fiending for a scandalous picture of James, a small mob forming as you tried to punch in the door code despite your shaking hands. James was right behind you, front pressed to your back, holding his Adidas windbreaker out in a position to shield your face from the prying eyes.

You slammed the door shut, the nosy questions and camera clicks immediately muffled. James let out a long sigh, running a hand through his already tousled hair. Neither of you spoke for a while, processing what had happened.

"Make yourself at home then." You cringed as you surveyed the state of your flat; clothes flung over chairs and dishes still in the sink. Your only option for living alone was cramming all your stuff into what was essentially a shoebox, so any amount of mess made the place look chaotic.

"Nice place," James said and you immediately rolled your eyes, snatching up a stray bra strewn across an armchair. "No, I mean it! It's cozy. Very you." He gestured up at the colourful, mismatched glassware in a kitchen cabinet and the beaded curtain separating your bedroom. You blushed slightly; you didn't often take men home, your flat staying a girly paradise just for you.

You put on the kettle, comforted by the familiar sounds of water beginning to boil. James sat awkwardly on an armchair near the window, anxiously peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes. His reactions told you the paparazzi were still loitering outside.

James took his tea gratefully, surprisingly still agreeable despite all the terrible things that had happened in the course of a few hours.

"Do you have a back exit or something? Somewhere I can slip out and get home?" You shook your head with a grimace.

"Only the fire exit, but that still goes out near the front. Otherwise we're surrounded by other buildings."

"You must be exhausted after everything. Head off to bed, I'll wait until the gits outside fuck off then lock the door behind me. We don't have to ever mention this again if you don't want." The orange lamp light made James' eyes look unfairly soft, highlighting the golden flecks amongst the brown. You steeled your nerve and shook your head.

"I'm not that bad of a host," You tried to joke, "Besides, don't you have training tomorrow? You're already up later than I'm sure you intended to be. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined England's star player by making him stay up all night, you take my bed and go to sleep." You were both very carefully trying to keep things light, not wanting to spend any more of the night miserable and fighting.

"Well, I'm not taking your bed, that's just impolite. I'll take the couch, if you're being so generous as to let me stay." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he said it, both of you dancing around the fact that in any other circumstance James wouldn't have been allowed within fifteen feet of your flat.

"That couch? No way." You pointed at the teensy vintage sofa sitting in front of the boxy television. It had space for maybe two and a half arses to sit on it, maybe horizontally extended legs if you were short-ish, but there was no way the goliath James Potter was getting any decent sleep on it. "You take the bed. I'll survive the couch tonight."

"Don't be stupid, I can't sleep in your bed. If not the couch I'll take the floor."

"Speaking from a purely medical standpoint, I haven't cleaned these floors recently enough for it to be safe to have your face in such close proximity. Take the bed, Potter."

You bickered for a few long minutes, both of you trying to outdo each other's respect as host and guest, respectively. You didn't miss the irony that even when you and James were getting along you were fighting.

"I'm not letting you go without, that's final." You turned away to go fetch a pillow for your night on the couch when James said something you never ever thought you'd hear from him.

"Then sleep with me."

"Excuse me?" You all but shrieked, immediately cringing as you thought about your poor neighbours.

"Look, it's basically morning, we're both shattered and I'm sure your bed is much comfier than whatever alternative you're planning. We can even go full pillow-wall if it'll make you feel better." You stared at him for several moments, lips actually agape. Never in your life did you think James Potter would be asking you to share a bed with him, and never in your life did you think you'd be considering it.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later and you were both ready for bed. You'd found James an old pair of an ex-boyfriend's long abandoned pyjamas, stuffed in a bottom drawer. They were slightly too small to accommodate all his muscles, the t-shirt sitting a few inches above the pants' waistband, giving him a very '90s crop top and exposing his happy trail.

You were almost definitely more embarrassed than James. You were in a similarly aged pair of pyjamas, a cartoon of Spongebob over your chest. You couldn't tell if you'd prefer to be in the lame pair that you were wearing or a cute pair -- no, it would probably look like you were trying too hard. Which you weren't. You didn't care about looking cute in front of James Potter, why would you?

He was already in bed when you'd returned from your skincare routine, face fresh and moisturised, and though you knew he was going to be there, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of James Potter in your bed. Tucked up to the chin under your frilly floral grandma sheets, he looked the picture of cozy.

"Don't bloody touch me, I mean it. I want to feel alone in my own bed," You snapped, sliding under the covers, pulling the doona similarly high up to your chin. You turned over to the centre of the bed to find James already on his side looking at you. You let it be for a moment, surprisingly enjoying the sleepover vibes you'd created.

"Okay this is weird now, the pillow's going up." You slammed a long decorative cushion in between the both of you, secretly smiling at the sleepy giggle James let out.

The first time you awoke it was hazy, still early in the morning with golden sunbeams streaming through your curtains. Warmth enveloped you, keeping you cozy despite the winter morning outside. You shifted to burrow deeper into your blankets when a groan came from behind you, startling you more awake as you recognised the feeling of muscular arms wrapped around your middle. It suddenly all came back to you, James walking you home, the paparazzi, you making an absolute fool of yourself. However, James was a portable heat source and extremely comfortable so you let yourself ignore everything that had led up to it, allowing yourself another few hours of blissful sleep.

The second time you woke up James was gone. That wasn't surprising given he definitely had early morning training, but you would reluctantly admit that it was a little lonelier in your bed than it usually was.

You didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, finally cleaning your apartment after much too long. Turns out all you needed was to be embarrassed in front of a guest to get you motivated.

Monday morning you weren't hungover anymore, but you were mourning the weekend that had passed much too quickly. Still, things were running smoothly enough; you didn't miss the tube and had snagged a seat, and your makeup was looking absolutely grand. You were absolutely thriving.

That was, until you crossed the threshold of the Sunday People offices and the jerks from the politics columns started bothering you, as if a Monday morning wasn't punishment enough.

"Meet anyone nice over the weekend, sweetheart?" One crowed from his desk chair, looking positively dickhead-ish in his too-small button-up.

"Or still on the clock maybe? We know you're always hunting for a good story." The combination of both remarks confused you, but you strutted past them with a quick glare in their general direction, your clicking heels producing enough attitude that you didn't need to say anything.

As you approached your own desk area, you had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at you. You couldn't think of why, but subtly wiped the edge of your lips in case it was foolishly smudged lipstick.

You even swore you heard one of the royal writers -- an awful woman maybe twenty years older than you -- say something about your 'promiscuity' and 'unprofessionalism'. You didn't know where it was coming from. You weren't friends by any means but you usually just stayed out of each other's way, you didn't throw around insults at your workplace. You glanced down at your outfit but nothing seemed especially revealing, the same button-up and pencil skirt you always wore if you weren't doing field work.

You were really starting to wonder why everyone was looking at you when even Lily was sending you pitiful glances. You had just made up your mind to say something about it when your boss came striding towards you, anger emanating in a way which only middle-aged men can do.

"What is this?" He slammed a Daily Mail tabloid down on your desk. The office was dead silent. You looked down at it, wholly confused as to what it could be -- your last article was approved without any troubles.

THE 'INSIDE' SCOOP? POTTER GETS COZY WITH REPORTER ON NIGHT OUT

And there, right under the brazen headline, was the stupid picture that Peter Pettigrew took. The two of you out on the street, you tucked into James' side with his arm around you. Your face wasn't totally visible, but anyone who already knew you would recognise the figure and fashion.

You could feel your face drop as you read the article, a barrage of slut-shamey insults and reports of how intimate you and James were out on the streets of London -- all entirely false, of course. When you'd finished reading the piece the whole office was staring at you, waiting to see how you'd react.

"It's a lie," You said quietly, trying to stop your hands from shaking as they rested on your lap. There was a pregnant pause as your boss processed what you were saying, clearly confused. None of your coworkers dared to speak.

"Bullshit," He replied, face blooming red as he decided you weren't being truthful. "That's you and that's James, there's no denying that. The whole bloody country will be able to see you two getting cozy on the street. How do you reckon this reflects on me, having your name and workplace published alongside your completely unprofessional affair?"

"I understand that it looks bad, but it's not what you think at all. J- uh, Potter was just helping me get home after a chance encounter because I wasn't feeling well, then he hid at my place because of all the paparazzi. Nothing happened." It was a weak explanation, even you could tell, even though it was completely true.

The arseholes over in Politics were already sniggering to themselves and you wished you could have ripped them a new one. Instead, you were cowering underneath your brutish boss.

"It's your word against Pettigrew's, and only one of you's been printed. You've been publicly humiliated and we're getting bad press for it."

Your boss had left you with the threatening promise that the issue would be brought up with your superiors and the whispered opinions of every single person you worked with. You choked out an excuse to get out of the office, taking the lift up to the rooftop to cry.

You had peace for a few minutes, getting the most embarrassing of the sobs out alone.

"Did you actually sleep with him?" If it was anyone else you probably would have snapped, yelling at them for being so insensitive. Marlene said it with such earnest curiosity and sympathy that you turned to face her instead. You were met with her and Lily, your very best friends who you were feeling especially lucky to work with at that moment.

"No!" You told them the full story, about getting sick at the club, James just being polite and walking you home, and Peter Pettigrew's terrible betrayal. Both women listened attentively, taking it all in.

"I thought you hated Potter," Lily said finally, "How'd it get that far in the first place? Usually you'd have ditched him in the first five minutes of being in his presence."

"I don't hate him." You studied your hands intently, observing the peeling red nail polish you should have reapplied yesterday. "I think he's annoying and obnoxious and I've always hated that he's never believed I could be a serious writer, but I don't hate him. He has his moments. Besides, why would I waste energy on hating Potter when I could hate Pettigrew with all my heart?"

"What a snake," Marlene spat, lighting a cigarette as she got comfy next to you. You and Lily both nodded. Peter was not only now a backstabber, but he'd been becoming increasingly insufferable over the years you'd all been writing.

He started out quite nice and was in your periphery of friends in the same way Remus and even James were, but as he'd gotten the job at his shitty tabloid magazine he'd become downright intolerable, always twisting what you'd said both in official articles and when gossiping with other friends. You had all had enough a few years ago and stopped inviting him places. Clearly, he'd held onto the grudge.

At his own work, James was facing the same rumours, though not nearly to the same peril. As he rocked up to his home pitch for the morning training session he was received with catcalls and high fives which made him nervous. No one was ever that happy to be working out on a Monday morning.

"Thought you hated her, mate."

"Maybe all she needed was a good shag to get the stick out of her arse."

"Woah! Can we take it back a few steps and not talk about women that way?" James sent a look over to one of his teammates.

"Sorry bud," He held his hands up in surrender, "Thought you wouldn't mind since you're always moaning about her." James' eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what the men were talking about, finally giving up and asking for a plain explanation.

He was met with a copy of Peter's article, outlining the flirty touches and 'electric chemistry' the two of you shared. Scanning it quickly James felt his face screwing up in disgust. Never mind that it obviously wasn't true, what a disgusting violation of privacy. He'd only recently launched into the spotlight, working his way up into the Premier League and then team captain in the last few years. He still didn't know how to handle the fame, especially invasive press like this.

His first priority was setting the ruth straight for his team, explaining exactly what happened and outlining strict instructions not to bring it up the next time they saw you.

"This is going to be a lot worse for her than me," He said, ending the conversation there.

He was correct. Rumours only spiralled from Peter's article. You'd stupidly created Google Alerts for your name; as a journalist, it made sense to keep track of where your writing was being shared. One day of this nonsense and you had all alerts silenced, not wanting to ever visit the internet ever again.

Apparently, this alleged affair was the most interesting thing young British people had ever experienced. The football star and the sports journalist. As you packed up to leave at the end of the day you were feeling sick to your stomach, already overwhelmed by the attention you never wanted on you.

Your face blanched as you approached the dizzying glass windows, a mass of reporters swarming the door. You didn't have to think hard to know they were waiting for you. You retreated to the restroom where they couldn't see you to rearrange your exit appearance. Pulling your coat tight against you and scarf up to cover the bottom half of your face, you plugged your iPod nano in to appear busy (and touched up your eye makeup for the inevitable photos that would make it back into the news cycle).

Physically and emotionally prepared you braved the crowd again, moving through with a polite but firm shove, making yourself a path down to the tube. You only snapped at one particularly rude paparazzi, giving him an instruction of where to 'stick it' as you hopped down the stairs to your station.

You ate a haphazard dinner by your computer, obsessively clicking through the various articles (and now personal blog posts) that had mentioned you. Every link made you feel worse about yourself.

The articles themselves were bad, most of them degrading you and congratulating James. Some had even produced old school photos of the both of you, even a few from your uni days when James was just starting out professionally and you were attending similar parties.

The articles were one thing, at least they usually had to be somewhat impartial. The blog posts by James' fangirls were downright cruel, calling you a slag based on a singular photograph and dragging your name through the mud.

You were drawn from your doom-scrolling by your cellphone ringing, Britney ringtone at least drawing a smile from you.

"Hello?"

"Get off the internet," Sirius Black said from the other end of the line.

"How'd you know?" You exited the webpage dutifully, already feeling the weight of the world's ugly words lifting from your shoulders.

"I figured. First time being written about isn't easy."

"It's certainly making me grateful I've never been so bitchy in my articles," You produced a hollow laugh, "I don't know how people can say these things about someone they've never met."

"That's why we like you," He said, "Mostly, at least. You stick to the sport and not our personal lives."

"Don't inflate my ego, Black, it's just because I don't like you guys," You joked, your mood already blooming back to somewhat more chipper.

"That's what I've been telling him!" You heard Remus call from further away, probably the other side of their living room. Sirius made an offended noise.

"Is Potter there?" You changed the topic, swirling your mouse around the window aimlessly, too afraid to check your work or personal notifications.

"He's out right now, calling someone official -- a publicist or lawyer friend. He's tearing his hair out about this, he feels awful for you." Both men explained, bickering about who exactly he was talking to.

"Yeah, I'm noticing only one of us is getting called a slut." You rolled your eyes even though they couldn't see you, balancing your cell between your shoulder and ear as you made a cup of tea. Sirius' barking laughter crackled through the speaker.

"Don't worry about it, love, everyone knows The Daily Mail is full of shite. Besides, I got that all the time."

"Yeah, in school! Not when you have a grown-up job to save face at!" Sirius conceded, apologising lightly. You shrugged him off; he was not the target of your anger at all.

"James'll be back soon, do you want to stay on the phone?" Remus asked and you answered without hesitation.

"No. I don't want to talk to him right now. We'll just find something to fight about, it's not worth it."

"He wants to make things better," Sirius offered, "He feels terrible."

"Maybe when I'm not so angry at the world." You left them with the offered compromise, hanging up to pity yourself for a few more hours before bed.

You didn't end up being fired over the incident, your bosses couldn't find a good reason to cite, but everyone in the office knew you were on thin ice. Most weren't afraid to highlight that fact. You were really starting to hate the Politics guys.

You just tried to keep your head down, diving into your articles and trying to keep in the higher-ups good graces. Amidst the drama though you'd been taken off all football coverage for the time being, banished to the irrelevant 'sports' you never even knew existed.

The week had taken you out of London to cover bizarre rural events like cheese rolling and bog snorkelling; not uninteresting but a big change of pace to the Premier League drama you were used to.

It did take your mind off of James and the media shitstorm for a day or two though. Being in a small town was much preferable to London, at least for the moment. The paparazzi weren't going to make the drive to find you for a single day when there were plenty more interesting figures to find in the city.

Plus, you were meeting the most interesting people. Though it was no Premier League final, everyone around was so wholly invested and excited by the competition that you couldn't help feeling the same, despite your initial hesitation.

Throughout the day it was just you, your notepad, your camera and the few thousand people who came to participate and observe. You'd already met and interviewed the woman who made the cheese, the previous year's winner and you were waiting impatiently to see who'd prevail now.

The paper was paying for you to stay overnight so you could chronicle the post-event celebrations, and you'd never been so glad to be working late. The key players in the day, organisers and competitors had all convened in the town's old pub, basically heaving under the weight of you all.

You held up your beer with the others despite hating the taste, grateful to be included in their toast to the day. You laughed as you tried to down it quickly, wanting the taste out of your mouth as soon as possible without refusing such a kind gift. Holding the pint up in the air victoriously you accepted the cheers of those around you, including the lovely middle-aged lady who made the ceremonial cheese and the man only a year or two older than you who'd won earlier.

"Finally letting your hair down!" He laughed and you smiled back, trying to remember his name. A glance down at your notepad said Drew. "Can I get you another?" You hoped he didn't notice your eyes widen, not expecting attention like that, not when you were allegedly working no less. You opened your mouth to agree when someone else answered for you.

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, jovial politeness abandoned.

"You didn't remember that my family comes to watch every year?"

"Respectfully, why the fuck would I remember something like that?" You snapped, moving to leave and follow the much nicer Drew to the bar. James grabbed your hand lightly, stopping you from leaving.

"Wait, can we talk please?" You just looked at him for a long time, considering how much patience you had after a full day of work, then shrugged half-heartedly.

He led you outside and away from the crowd, both of you letting out a huff as you noticed the change in temperature.

"I liked your story on the bog snorkelling -- interesting stuff," James broke the awkward silence and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

"As if you read my pieces."

"I do!" He insisted, silently refusing the cigarette you offered. "I've read all your pieces, honest."

"But... huh? You're the one who always said I'd be a shit writer, I've spent years trying to get the negative internal James out of my head! You absolute dickhead!" You shoved his chest, turning back towards the door to return inside.

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

James' words rang heavy in the air, the street otherwise silent. You stared straight ahead of you for a moment, his words settling on top of you as you focused on the orange street lamp.

This whole time, this whole time, you'd been fighting the image you believed James had of you, striving to be better, never being satisfied, for nothing. This whole time you and James had been bickering and trading insults for nothing? And all his flirting... James' annoying charm and ironic compliments and innuendo-filled teasing were all genuine, after all this time? Suddenly your whole world had turned on its axis.

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Jesus Christ," You muttered, "So what, you thought all my arguing back was just flirting?" James' silence told you all you needed to know.

"Come on, don't act like you didn't like it a little bit! As I recall you were always up for the fight, weren't you? You never avoided me or ignored me. Let's face it, you enjoyed it as much as I did." He stepped closer to you, breath visible in the cool air.

"I didn't enjoy it, what the hell are you talking about? Why would I enjoy trading schoolyard insults with some arrogant, idiotic football player who discredited the one thing I wanted most in my life?" Suddenly you were inches apart, heat emanating from both of you as you fought.

"Like you never said I was stupid for wanting to be a footballer? Face it, love, you're just as bad as me."

And suddenly, despite all your better judgement and every bit of sense in your head, you were kissing him. You didn't know exactly how it had happened, and if anyone were to ever ask you you would absolutely pin the blame on James but there you were, out in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

Every one of your senses was on fire, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his soft curls under your fingers. Everything about James felt like he was made for you, like all the years of you revolving around each other, playing off the other's insult was just a lead-up, preparation for the very moment you kissed for the first time.

James' arms around you were warm, strong from years of working out and protective like a weighted blanket. One hand wrapped around your midsection and the other firmly on your neck you felt wholly surrounded by him, isolated in your own bubble of James.

It was probably a bad idea, but you weren't overly concerned with addressing that fact in any rush. It didn't come as you tilted your head to bring him even closer, it didn't come as you said hurried goodbyes in the pub and collected your coat, it didn't even come as you closed the door to your hotel room, undoing the buttons to James' shirt like they had a personal vendetta against you.

The admittance only came as you lay entangled with him, faces millimetres apart.

"Was that a bad idea?" You asked, genuine self-consciousness mixing with pragmatic anxiety.

"I mean, I quite enjoyed myself, love. Did you not?" James' cheeky smile made you snort out a giggle but you sobered up quickly, hitting him lightly on his toned chest.

"Don't turn this into a joke!" You ordered, "Have we just fucked everything up?" James just looked at you for a minute, taking in the sincerity in your voice and the depth of your eyes.

"Of course we haven't," He assured you. "Do you like me?"

"But--"

"Ah! Do you like me?" He reiterated and you paused, nodding shyly. "See? You like me and I like you. We'll figure everything else out. Start slow; baby steps."

"Baby steps," You agreed, sharing his smile. It really only hit you how much you actually liked James once you'd said it, finally noticing how he might've been looking at you the whole time.

You sent James off early in the morning, both of you needing to make it back to London quickly. You had to get your article written up and James had training. Thankfully there was no awkwardness in your goodbye; James had to rush to meet his parents to drive back by car and you had a train to catch. The only moment of hesitance came as you said goodbye, waving at each other with a giggle as James hopped down the steps. He hesitated halfway, turning to look at you with the glint of mischief in his eye that you'd become very well acquainted with.

In a moment he was at the top of the steps again, swooping in to steal another kiss. You rolled your eyes to hide an embarrassing smile, pushing him back in the direction he came.

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. James mimed twisting a knife in his chest but continued down the stairs nonetheless, giving you one last smile before he turned a corner and disappeared from your sight. You sighed like a schoolgirl then laughed at yourself, packing the last of your things to get home.

As you sat on the train, green landscapes passed you through the window and you felt your cell phone buzz from the minuscule pocket of your work trousers.

thinking of u :P <3

You grinned, looking out at the scenery so the people around you wouldn't be able to figure out your embarrassing secret. You felt like a teenage girl again, blushing over a text from the guy you had a crush on.

Everything turned to shit in a matter of hours after returning to London.

First, James' publicist made his statement. It wasn't necessarily terrible, but it really had no regard for you. No statement declaring you both on good terms, no coming to your defence or asking for the press to respect you. James looked like the hero saving a stupid drunk girl, and you still looked desperate for the most popular footballer in the country. You were decently sure it wasn't James' fault, but it did significantly dampen your lovesick giddiness.

The office was half-empty when you arrived, kitten heels clicking against the ground. You said a quick hello to Lily, still dutifully typing away at her computer. You followed her lead, exporting your notes to your desktop computer, formatting the piece and going through edits to have it ready for the next paper.

The sun was setting, sending orange and pink streaks through the sky when the door to your boss' office slammed open, echoing above the cubicles.

"You kissed him?" He yelled and you paled, knowing exactly what he was talking about but not how he knew. That problem was solved when he slammed the magazine down in front of you, no doubt just delivered by the skittery young receptionist running back to the elevator.

FACT OR FICTION? POTTER AND REPORTER CAUGHT SNOGGING AMIDST PUBLIC DENIAL

Fuck. That could not be worse.

The whole piece was essentially dragging your name through the absolute mud now that they had the confirmation there was something going on between you and James. The whole world thought you were sleeping to the top, or for the best scoop, and everyone hated you for it.

You looked up at your boss, words dying on your tongue.

"Please tell me that's not you," He said, grasping at the thinning hair on his head. You couldn't deny it.

"I..." You trailed off, searching for anything you could say to make it better. "I didn't mean to. And I'm being completely honest when I say that the first article was all bullshit. Things have... happened since then." You were already on the verge of tears. Even on an optimistic day, you couldn't have denied that this was utterly shit.

"Jesus." Your boss muttered, beginning to pace. "Look, I like you, you know? You do good work and you're never outta line, but I reckon the higher-ups are gonna be done with you. They wanted you out over the first article but I convinced them it was all speculation. This is proof and makes us all look bad that you're sleeping with someone you interview every other bloody week. Look, I'll do what I can in damage control, but I'd be bringing your stuff home tonight. I'm sorry."

How could he have just left you with that absolute bombshell? Effectively firing you, just like that? The tears had made their way up to your waterline, sitting there mocking you as you refused to let them fall. You submitted your piece and shut off your laptop, angrily stuffing your sparse personal decorations into your shoulder bag to get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible.

The paparazzi were waiting again, of course, like that was what you really needed. You pushed past them, making sure to land an extra hard stomp on Peter's foot, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as you heard him curse.

You sat on the tube, staring intently at your feet and trying desperately to think of anything but your current situation. You'd already been approached by someone who'd coughed out "Skank," which really hadn't done anything for your sour mood. All you wanted was to crawl into your bed and never emerge.

You wandered down the street between the metro station and your flat, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets.

"Hey!" Someone called and you glanced over on instinct, senses drawn by the interruption of an otherwise quiet evening. "You're the girl who kissed James Potter, yeah?" It was a girl still in her school uniform, probably sixteen or seventeen. You thought through your options quickly and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wicked. How was it?" She asked, chewing on pink gum. There was an aura about her that you liked, not judgemental like everyone else you'd met. If you were still in school you thought you might've been friends with her.

"Pretty good, I'd do it again." A cheeky almost-joke between the two of you, ironic given the shit that it had caused for you.

"We were talking about it at school. Pretty shit how they've treated you. Like they all wouldn't jump at a chance to get close to 'im." You liked the way that she didn't get any closer. Just the two of you standing face to face, divided by the empty road.

"Exactly what I've been saying," You agreed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"If it was the other way around, if you were the famous one, James would be getting congratulated for getting with you, not ridiculed by the mindless gossip columns. All my friends think it's utter bullshit, stopped buyin' 'em and everything." You could have kissed her if that wasn't tremendously creepy. In five minutes, this schoolgirl had vindicated everything you'd been saying for the past week in a way no one else had.

"Thank you," You said, with more sincerity than you probably should have had for a complete stranger. The girl just shrugged with a smile, nodding before continuing down the street, the sound of her leather school shoes growing quieter with every step.

You felt it in your whole body every time you thought of the interaction for the next few hours, warmth spreading through your chest as you were reminded there were still good people around.

Your other reminder of that fact came with the sound of your buzzer, the laughing of Lily and Marlene echoing off the stone of your building. As you let them in curiously they presented armfuls of takeout, the smell of Chinese food immediately floating through your flat.

Lily took the responsibility of setting out the food while Marlene took control of your little television, flipping between channels until she found a suitable romcom starting.

You didn't speak about what had happened, no one mentioned James Potter or the bloody Sunday People. Yet, there was an air of tenderness that let you know the girls knew exactly what was happening and how you were feeling about it.

Still, there was something bothering you. You couldn't give it a name immediately, only a tugging in your stomach while the girls were entertaining you, but persistent nonetheless.

It wasn't until you were all crammed into your bed, the other two peacefully asleep, that you could identify the sensation. It was an overwhelming desire, a need to write that you hadn't felt in ages. It was the same feeling that had pushed you to be a journalist in the first place, an inspiration you typically only felt watching a magical soccer final.

You crept out of your bedroom, switching on your computer at the kitchen table, squinting at the aggressive blue light. And when a blank Word document appeared before you, you started writing. Obsessively, feverishly, words poured out of you at a rate that hadn't happened since you'd started at Sunday People.

The words of the school girl fresh in your mind, you started an article vastly different from your usual kind. Instead of strategies and highlights you dissected your own experience of the past week, saying everything you hadn't let yourself unload to the paparazzi outside your office (though with fewer curse words than they would have received). It could have been minutes or hours that you were writing and you wouldn't have noticed, eyes glued on the screen in front of you.

You didn't realise you'd fallen asleep until Lily woke you gently with a hand on your shoulder, offering a steaming mug of tea. It was light outside, the world already up and awake. You were glad it was a weekend as the girls didn't need to rush off to work, cooking a simple breakfast for you all to share.

"What've you written?" Marlene asked, the second part of her sentence unnecessary: since you don't have a job to write for. You shrugged, taking a bite of some eggs.

"Just something I had to get off my chest. Might see if I can sell it to someone to tide me over 'til I figure out what I'm doing with my life."

"Can we read?" You made a 'go ahead' gesture, the computer already open to the screen.

A WOMAN'S UNWILLING WEEK IN THE PUBLIC EYE:

How a woman always loses.

You sat in mild discomfort as Lily and Marlene read your piece in silence, anxiously awaiting their reactions. They weren't what you were expecting.

When they turned back to face you, Lily had tears in her eyes, red tones brought out in her skin. Even Marlene looked uncharacteristically moved, not at all the reaction you were expecting. Firstly, it was completely unedited so you suspected it was somewhat of a mess from your midnight haze. Secondly, it was more of a vent than anything, getting your hatred for invasive paparazzi off your chest. You thought you'd all laugh about it then move on with your days.

"Lils, what's wrong?" You didn't mean to laugh, it was more out of surprise than anything else.

"It's just, it's so raw and real. It's so unfair," She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Jesus, you don't have to cry," You said lightly, "I'm fine! I hated that bloody place anyway."

"That's not the point," Marlene pointed out, "And Lily's right, this is really confronting stuff. It's great."

"Thanks," You mumbled, studying a lamp for something to do.

"Can we talk about James?" Your head snapped back to look at her.

"What about him?"

"Clearly there's been some... developments in your relationship, which we don't have to talk about--"

"Yet," Marlene interrupted.

"The point is that it looks like there's feelings involved now. What are you doing about them? Because if you publish that, it's putting everything out there, and even I can't tell how you feel about James right now," Lily finished.

"I don't want to talk to him," You said quickly, "I know it's not his fault but I can't think about him without getting mad. It's like I wrote; he ends up fine while I lose my job over one kiss."

"Understandable," Marlene nodded, "But if I know James at all, he'll be going crazy every minute that you ignore him."

You had much to consider when the girls left. The state of your career, your feelings for James, everything felt too big and overwhelming to make any decisions about. So, you took a nap.

The rest of your weekend was spent sending your then-edited article to as many newspapers and blogs as you could and hiding out in your flat, dodging James' calls.

Unfortunately, you liked him. You'd figured out that much. More unfortunately, he hadn't done anything to help you out in all this mess, benefiting from the press in a way that only England's favourite footballer could.

On Monday morning your piece was published. Not the biggest or most reputable newspaper, if your name hadn't still been trending it probably would have gone largely noticed. Instead, it blew up.

It had mixed reviews, of course, a tell-all so blatantly feminist would always attract its haters, but you were floored by the support it was receiving. Women were validating your experiences in a way you hadn't expected even a few days ago. It made you not so scared to leave the house anymore.

On Tuesday morning, Remus called you. You had the thought that it might have been James calling to grovel on Remus' phone, but you thought it was a smart enough idea you'd indulge anyway. If it was Sirius you wouldn't have picked up.

Instead, it was actually Remus.

"Come to the media room this afternoon," He said, evidently not wasting time with pleasantries.

"What?" You asked, caught off-guard.

"Just do it. Two o'clock."

"Remus, you know I don't have a job anymore, right?"

"Come off it, you know anyone on the team would let you in. You've got quite a name for yourself," He chanced a joke and you rolled your eyes.

"What, whore?" You retorted, only a little worried it would be true.

"I'm hanging up," Was all he said before the line went dead. You huffed, snapping your phone closed with all the attitude of a spoiled private schoolgirl.

Yet, at two o'clock you were standing in front of the media room at James' team's stadium, questioning all of your life choices.

The room seemingly went silent when you entered, dozens of pairs of eyes staring you down as you nervously stuck to the wall. You felt the derogatory, leering stares from all the sleazy men who'd been accusing you of sleeping with players since you first started in the field. It made you want to drop dead.

James made his way to the lectern up the front of the room with a cough, quieting down the chaos.

"Afternoon, everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here, I've got some things I'd like to address.

"As you all well know, I've been a frequent face in the papers lately, and not for my brilliant playing as it usually is. I recently got followed down a street after a night out looking after an old friend who happened to be a colleague of yours. Now I know that my godly good looks lead you to believe that I don't feel the same as all of you, but I do. And I'd like you all to consider how you'd feel if a man with a camera followed you all the way home after you'd been out for a night with your friends and a few cheeky drinks. It's pretty invasive if you can't imagine.

"Now, all this press hasn't really affected me. However, my dear friend has been subject to misogynistic articles, slut-shaming and harassment all because we were seen out together and a few hateful words from someone I used to consider a mate." You had no idea where this was going, but you were absolutely fascinated. James was more well-spoken, more mature and solemn than you'd ever seen him, though he still had his audience in the palm of his hand with his casual jokes. It was a masterclass in public speaking.

"If you haven't read any of my friend's pieces I would highly recommend them; she's got a brilliant voice and I personally read everything she publishes. However, I'm not here to talk about her work; I'd actually like to talk about her if you all don't mind."

What the hell was happening?

"In the midst of all these articles over the last week, I know you've all seen various pictures of us, including from secondary school. A few come to my mind, our graduation picture is a highlight, but I'd really like to talk about this one." James brandished a printed-out photo you recognised instantly.

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

Your life wasn't real, it absolutely could not be.

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

The room started to trickle out but you were stuck to your spot against the wall, frozen in absolute shock. You hardly even noticed the dirty looks you got from some of the people you'd been working alongside for years.

You spotted James in another corner, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and messing with his hair. A nervous tell.

The room was almost completely empty when you approached him, heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

"Hey stranger," You said softly, feeling way out of your depth. He turned in an instant, smile lighting up his face then melting away as it was replaced with an insecure frown.

"Was that okay? I didn't want to embarrass you but I wanted to step up and do something and protect you and--"

"Have you really loved me since we were twelve?" You cut him off bluntly.

"Every day since, as I've figured out," He agreed with a slight nod, glasses slipping down his nose slightly.

"What about all the flirting with Lily? The other girls over the years?"

"So obviously fake. Distractions. It's never been anyone but you, love."

You could only stare at him for a moment, your whole world shifting beneath your feet. James' face became increasingly worried, brow furrowing more the longer you remained unresponsive.

"If you don't feel the same that's totally alright, I still stand by what I did and I don't want you being harassed for--"

You'd always thought that cutting someone off with a kiss was ridiculously cheesy, reserved for shitty Hallmark movies with grown-up child actors who never got their big break. Turns out though, when you realise that your girlish crush on the star footballer has actually been a complicated love of twelve years, you don't really want to waste any more time.

When you woke up on Wednesday morning with James next to you, body heat keeping you cozy, you were convinced you had to be dreaming. When you eventually got up to check your emails and start your day the hypothesis was only solidified by the impossible email waiting in your inbox.

The fucking BBC wanted to hire you as a football commentator and sports writer. Your dream job at your dream company. If you let out an embarrassing squeal then that was none of your business.

You were still convinced you were hallucinating the whole thing until James came in with his biggest smile and that look in his eyes that told you he probably had a hand in getting your name on the BBC desks.

Even a few weeks ago you would have been mad at him, assuming it was mocking or he had ulterior motives. But it wasn't a few weeks ago anymore, and James Potter's whole, endless heart belonged to you. You weren't letting that go anytime soon.

[r3starttt]

ROOMMATES

PAIRING: ellie x abby

CW: fluff. modern au. hc's.

SUMMARY: Abby and Ellie and the begging of their roommate era <3

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | PERM: @twopeoplee @Kaimythically @greysontheidiot @levilvrr @sapphic-ovaries @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess1

Ellie who was awkwardly checking her phone when she first met Abby. Her fingers nervously tapping random stuff on her notes app, on the calculator, sending desperate messages to anyone just to avoid small talk.

there's this blonde girl I'm probably gonna be roommate with she's massive lol

Abby who would glance at Ellie here and there just to make sure the girl was keeping up with the whole tour and to get any sign that could let her know if she was actually interested in the whole roommate thing.

"The girl that came to see the place is a nerd, she's being all awkward and not talking at all. She's also wearing those black converse everyone likes for no reason."

"abs u listen to classical music to study stfu"

Abby who had to speak to Ellie first and directly ask if she was interested or not. And Ellie who struggled to talk but eventually managed to make the deal with Abby.

"Ellie, right?" the freckled cheeks hadn't been that red in a while. Not that she got scared or anything, she just felt extremely panicked thinking the blonde girl in front of her was about to start small talk- plus, she caught her off guard. "So, what do you think?" Abby crossed her arms, an habit- just there she realized how annoyed she looked. She wasn't, of course, but how could the auburn tell?

Abby, who Inmediatelly put the rules. No eating in the couch unless you have visits, and if so, you clean. No noise after 10 pm and no visits without warning nor after 10 pm either. You wash your dishes, you cook your food. bla bla. bla

"Hey so... uhm" Ellie's hands felt sweaty, her fingers fidgeted with each other as she let herself rest comfortably against the doorframe of Abby's room, who looked attentive.

The blonde's arms and legs crossed as she rested against her chair, seemingly frustrated by some stuff she was working on in her desk. "My... uh, I'm bringing someone? I was wondering- it's Friday, maybe I-"

"Yeah, I dont mind it. Just try to keep it quiet"

Abby who was also the first to break the rules

And there she was, flirting with the girl Ellie had fought so much to gain the smallest attention- "Yeah? is that so? oh... really?" currently one am and whatever stress she'd gathered along the week long forgotten.

Ellie who eventually put her own rules. And who got humbled every time because she didn't really care so Abby was the one reminding her about it.

"Why don't you just take mine?" the auburnette spoke with her mouth full, her phone in one hand and her bowl of cereal in the other as she watched the blonde walk all over the small kitchen.

Abby had been around five minutes trying to find a clean tupper of her own, almost having a crisis because oh she was one long minute late already. "You told me not to touch your stuff"

Abby who's super cool to Ellie's eyes, and Ellie who brags about her very cool roommate who's also very smart and strong and nice and sweet and nerdy and many cute stuff.

"didn't you say you wanted to find other place last week?"

"shut up jesse, she just- she was so annoying that day, okay? we are good now"

"we? bro she doesn't even talk to you"

Abby who made it feel illegal to even walk pass her room if her door was open? she was so strict over privacy matters. And Ellie who couldn't care less, taking any chance she had to glance at the room.

"You don't like star wars? what's with the poster then-" and only there, with Abby's look and the awkward silence, Ellie realized she had just fucked the little chance she had to get along with the blonde.

Abby, who eventually stopped caring so much about privacy matters and rules, it was practically impossible. Ellie was charming in her own way, and Abby wasn't so serious after all.

"The movie was lame" the auburnette spoke with her mouth full of a mix of chocolate and whatever else. Abby’s fingers stopped their track between the blonde locks being unbraided- her face into a frown as she met Ellie’s eyes. "You don't like anything! it's the fifth-" Their voices overlapped, Ellie denying whatever statement the blonde was trying to explain or prove. "You choose the next one and better keep quiet-" and again, shouting and anxious eating from Ellie who couldn't feel more comfortable suddenly.

[monstersandmaw]

hi omg i love ur male inspired Yautja (im illiterate 💀) fic sm - and was wondering if u had any head canons / hc fics with Croc and (gn) reader? :0

For a second I thought you meant the reverse harem (m. aliens x f.reader) one because that's the latest 'yautja inspired' one I've been working on, but then you said Croc's name and my brain glitched and I remembered him again (from Big Red's story). I'm so sorry Croc, my beloved danger-goofball!!

Croc is laid back and easy going, but he's mega protecc if the need arises.

He's a switch, so he doesn't mind what the reader fancies getting up to, if things get steamy, and he's poly. He's in a relationship (bonded/mated) with Midnight, a massive hunter who's part of Big Red's crew, and a human (the only thing I attributed to the human was military gear).

He's got a sweet tooth

He likes practical jokes

Friendship means a lot to him, so if you're his friend, there's almost nothing he wouldn't do to make sure you're ok

He makes awful jokes and loves Dad jokes too

Also, because I can't find it, here's a reupload of him being a goofball:

[skateordiebitch]

I loved the proposal fic! You're very talented <3 Please don't ever stop feeding the fandom! Another request: Dom having this huge crush on you and being flirty and touchy all the time, sending you songs, making excuses to talk to you but you don't take him seriously because of his reputation (we all know that boy is a cheater lol) but then he grows on you and you realize he likes you for real.

Sorry if this is messy or confusing but I'm sure you can turn this into something good because you're a great writer!! <3

you are the right one || D.F. x reader

'you are the right one and i'm just the boy who is lookin' at you, so what will i do?'

summary: charming? absolutely. loyal? that was up for debate. dom has an insufferable crush on you, and his reputation is as messy as his pick up lines.

you guys really have no idea how much it means to me that people actually read these omg. like WHAT?! thank u so much for all the support, and i've been absolutely loving these requests! please submit as many as ur hearts desire frl.

this fic is inspired by 'you are the right one' by sports. enjoy! <3

Dominic was the kind of guy who could charm a rock.

He was always around—at parties, at coffee shops, wherever you happened to be, he’d somehow appear with that half-smile and a glint in his eye.

The look that said he had all the time in the world to flirt with you.

It wasn’t a secret that he had a reputation, and you’d heard plenty about it. So when he started paying attention to you, you took it with a grain of salt.

He was practically notorious. 

His name was synonymous with scandal; the stories floated around like smoke in a crowded room, filling every corner. He’d been caught sneaking out of afterparties with one girl, only to be spotted cozying up with another a few nights later. 

People talked about him like he was a force of nature—someone who left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, yet somehow still managed to charm his way back into everyone’s good graces.

Known for giving others a little too much attention, sending flirty texts to way too many people, and for leaving relationships messier than they started.

You’d heard it all.

Which is why, despite his insistent attention on you over the past few months, you’d tried not to take him seriously.

He had a way of simply popping up at every gathering, every coffee shop, every late-night hangout. And no matter where you went, there he was, leaning against a doorframe or lounging in some corner with that half-smile. 

It was the look of a guy who knew he was being watched.

Every time he leaned in a little too close or casually dropped a line about how he couldn’t get you out of his head, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you of his reputation. 

You’d seen him in action, laughing too easily with strangers, that familiar gleam in his eye whenever he found someone new to capture his attention.

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

It almost seemed like a challenge to him, as if winning you over would prove something—not just to you, but to himself.

Dominic was nothing, if not persistent.

—

It started off with little things. 

You’d see him at a party, and he’d make his way over, leaning just close enough to make your pulse race. 

“Hey,” he’d say in that low voice of his, like he was letting you in on a secret. “Fancy running into you here.”

You’d roll your eyes. “Not that fancy,” you’d reply. “You’re here every night.”

He’d laugh, brushing it off. “What can I say? I’m where the action is. And apparently, so are you.”

Or even one night, at a mutual friend’s house party, he caught you in the kitchen, pouring a drink.

“Here we go again,” you muttered as he sidled up, practically beaming.

“What?” He feigned innocence, leaning against the counter like he had nowhere else to be. “I’m just here for the ambiance.”

“Sure,” you replied dryly, stirring your drink. “Not here to bug me at all.”

“Bug you?” He placed a hand over his heart, looking deeply wounded. “Why would I bug the most interesting, most beautiful person in the room?”

And as time went on, you realized he was doing a pretty good job of getting under your skin. He was funny and had this odd knack for showing up exactly when you needed a laugh. 

But, it was all smooth talk, and you knew better than to read into it. 

—

He would even pop up in your messages with carefully curated playlists and random memes at odd hours. One night, at nearly three in the morning, he sent you a song. You clicked it, half asleep, listening to the slow, soulful lyrics.

“Seriously? You’re sending me Drake at 3 a.m.?” you texted back.

His reply came almost immediately: “What? I just thought you’d appreciate the vibes. Don’t you like it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, even though you knew better. “It’s fine,” you replied, trying to sound unimpressed, “If I was a prepubescent boy.”

He shot back, “Ouch. I pour my heart into a late-night playlist, and all I get is ‘fine’? Remind me not to be romantic with you anymore.”

“You call that romantic?!” you teased.

He responded with a winking emoji. “You’d know if I was trying to be romantic. Trust me.”

You laughed, but kept your guard up. 

That was just Dominic—he never quit. 

He sent you song after song, funny memes at all hours, anything he thought might make you laugh. He’d slip compliments into the conversation when you least expected them. 

Charming? Absolutely. Loyal? That was up for debate.

You knew he had a habit of leaving a trail of broken hearts in his footsteps, and you weren’t about to fall for it.

But, he was relentless. He seemed to show up everywhere, always ready with that same easy charm.

—

One day, you found yourself sitting outside on the patio of your favorite cafe when he strolled by, immediately making a U-turn to come sit next to you.

“Need some company?” he asked, his voice dripping with faux-casual charm.

“Mmm, not particularly,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Perfect, because I’m excellent at being unwanted company,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you and leaning in. “So, I have a dilemma. You seem like a good person to solve it.”

“Oh really?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of dilemma?”

“Well,” he drawled, pretending to look serious, “I can’t figure out if I should ask you for your number… or just keep showing up everywhere you are and hope you’ll take the hint.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “You already have my number, Dominic. Remember when you sent me that completely unnecessary playlist at three in the morning?”

He grinned. “Ah, yes. That was for your listening pleasure. And it was absolutely necessary, by the way.”

“Dominic, please,” you paused, “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were following me.”

“Me? Follow you?” He grinned, looking scandalized. “I would never! I just happen to have excellent timing.”

“Should I file a restaining order against you or something?” You chuckled, sipping your drink.

“C'mon, you wouldn’t do that,” Dominic purrs, “How would we be able to swoon over each other? Maybe, you're just everywhere I go. Who says… you’re not my stalker?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off, but the truth was, you’d started to enjoy the banter. 

“You’re so full of it, Dominic. Your ego is gonna spill out of you someday.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning in just enough that you could smell the faint hint of his cologne, “Maybe, I just like being wherever you are,” he said, his voice playful but sincere. “Ever think about that?”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s it,” you replied, rolling your eyes. But when he looked at you with those eyes, warm and mischievous, it was hard not to feel the tiniest flicker of something more.

There was something infectious about his easy confidence, the way he didn’t mind looking silly as long as he could make you laugh. You were starting to understand what all of his other girls saw in him.

He seemed to notice the crack in your defenses and leaned closer, voice low. “Give me a shot. One date. No games, no flirting with anyone else.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “I’m not exactly into sharing, Dominic. And word on the street is you’re into… well, everyone.”

His expression softened, but there was still a glimmer of that charming confidence. “What if I told you I’m into just one person now?”

“Yeah?” you challenged. “And how long’s that going to last?”

“As long as you want it to,” he murmured, leaning close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You say that now. But I don’t have time to be just another girl in your playlist, Dominic.”

He straightened, putting his hand on his chest in mock offense. “Wow. You really think I’m that bad, huh?”

“Honestly? Yes, I do,” you said, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face.

"Why is that?" Dominic asked, as if he was genuinely perplexed.

You tilted your head, giving him a look. “You really want me to list all the reasons?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms in that casual way of his, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Go on then. Enlighten me.”

You took a deep breath, pretending to count off on your fingers. “Let’s see… for starters, you flirt with anything that breathes, you’ve got a track record of, I don't know, cheating on people, and I’ve heard more stories about your ‘endeavors’ than I can count. Should I go on?”

His smile didn’t waver, but something in his eyes softened as he listened, really listened. “Alright, fair points,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “But maybe I’ve grown up a little. I'm ready to settle down. People change, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident. “People change, but Dominic, you’re—well, you’re you.”

He laughed, and for a moment, it was as if the whole world faded away, leaving just the two of you in that charged little bubble.

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a shrug. “But what if I’m tired of being that guy? What if I want something real for once?”

There was a flicker of sincerity in his voice that made your heart do a little flip. You glanced away, unsure of what to say, feeling a warmth in your cheeks that you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Look,” he continued, his voice softer, “all I’m asking for is a chance. No strings, no expectations, just… a chance to show you who I really am. I promise I won’t pull any tricks. What do you say?”

You hesitated, trying to ignore the excitement sparking in your chest. A part of you wanted to say yes, to give him that one shot. But there was also that voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the things you’d heard, all the stories that seemed impossible to ignore.

But then you met his gaze again. He wasn’t grinning or trying to charm you with a clever line. He was just standing there, his face open, honest, like he was waiting on the edge of something.

“Fine,” you said finally, surprising even yourself. “Prove to me that you've 'changed,' and I'll give you a chance.”

He let out a breath, a grin breaking through. “Deal! I swear, you’ll see. I'll show you that I'm the guy you've been searching for your whole life.”

You shook your head, laughing at his confidence. “Big promises, Dominic.”

He gave a playful bow, pretending to be serious.

“You deserve nothing less."

—

And, in the weeks that followed, things started to shift. 

You found yourself looking forward to his messages, to the way he’d light up when he saw you, to the little moments where he’d brush his hand against yours and you’d feel that thrill you couldn’t deny anymore. 

He was actually... proving something.

He was still the same Dominic—funny, charming, a little ridiculous—but there was something deeper, something real that he was finally showing you.

He kept sending you songs, but now you listened to them more closely. They weren’t just random choices—they were songs that held meaning, songs that made you feel like he was trying to tell you something without saying it out loud.

You guys actually sat and talked for hours, the conversation flowing naturally, the usual teasing giving way to deeper things.

He shared stories about his family, about the things he wanted to do that no one else knew.

And for the first time, you caught a glimpse of a Dominic you hadn’t expected—a thoughtful, almost vulnerable side that he rarely let anyone see.

—

On one Thursday evening, Dominic texted you out of the blue:

“Come to my show tomorrow night. I’ll even reserve you the best seat in the house.”

You’d almost laughed out loud. The confidence. The nerve. Yet, his invitation was so open, so brazen, that you found yourself hesitating to reply with your usual sarcasm.

Instead, you typed back, “Best seat? And what does that entail?”

“A chair within arm’s reach of me at all times,” he replied instantly, adding a winking emoji. “So I can serenade you properly, of course.”

Rolling your eyes, you typed, “I’ll think about it,” but you knew you’d already made up your mind. 

Maybe you wanted to see him in his element, to see if this easy charm carried over to the stage, or maybe you were just curious to see if he’d actually live up to the hype he constantly built up around himself.

—

The air in the venue was charged with anticipation, warm bodies pressed together, the smell of spilled beer and cheering fans filling the room. 

As you pushed your way closer to the front, a sight caught your eye—a single chair with a handwritten note taped to it. 

“Reserved for my stalker,” it read in his sloppy scrawl. 

You rolled your eyes but smiled, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. Somehow, Dominic had managed to make this loud, chaotic place feel... personal?

The lights dimmed, and the murmuring crowd hushed as Dominic appeared on stage, guitar in hand. 

His usual confident grin was there, but something else lingered beneath it—something softer, maybe even vulnerable. The crowd cheered, but as he adjusted the microphone, his gaze found yours, and it held there, unblinking, like he was trying to tell you something without words.

“Hey, everyone,” he said into the mic, his voice a warm, familiar sound. “I’ve got a few new songs for you… some just for fun, and… one for a special someone, who might know who they are.” 

His eyes stayed on you for just a moment longer before he looked away, and in that second, a ripple of curiosity and warmth spread through you. 

He started to play, fingers gliding over the guitar strings with ease, and then his voice filled the room. 

The song was slow, raw, each note lingering in the air. His lyrics were unexpectedly honest—about someone who held him at arm’s length, who had walls around them that he’d do anything to tear down. 

He sang about working harder than he ever had, about falling for someone who wasn’t swayed by his charm but made him want to be better.

You sat, utterly captivated, your eyes locked on his, and it felt like there was no one else in the room. 

The song had an intimacy to it, like he was peeling back layers you hadn’t even realized he had, and it struck you right in the heart. 

When he sang the final line—If I set fire to these walls right now, would I set foot inside your mind? And if you say yes, am I allowed… back in?—a shiver ran through you.

As the last note faded, the crowd erupted in cheers, but Dominic’s gaze stayed on you, as if to say, ‘Did you hear me? Did I finally prove myself?’

The rest of the show was electric, each song a pulse of energy that had the crowd moving, dancing, singing along. 

But nothing else hit quite the same way as that first song, the one that felt like it was made just for you. 

By the time the show wrapped up, you were buzzing with emotions you hadn’t expected, wondering if you’d been wrong about Dominic all along.

After the final song, you made your way backstage, weaving through the crowd. 

When you found him, he was standing by himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead, looking a little nervous—a side of him you’d never seen before. 

His face lit up when he spotted you, but his usual smirk was gone. Instead, he looked almost shy.

“Hey you,” he said, voice a little breathless. “You… you made it.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing smile. “Yeah, I made it. Figured I’d give you a chance to show off.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, did I? You think maybe I made my case?”

You hesitated, but then nodded, your voice softer than you’d planned. “Yeah... I think maybe you did.”

There was a beat of silence, then he took a step closer, and his hand brushed against yours. It was a small touch, but it sent a shiver up your arm, and suddenly the air between you felt charged, like you were the only two people in the room.

“So… there’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. He lifted his hand, tracing his thumb lightly along your cheek. His fingers trembled slightly, a sign that he was holding back just as much as you were.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. “Yeah?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “What’s that?”

In answer, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to slow, the noise of the crowd dimming until all you could hear was the soft hum of his breathing. 

His lips brushed yours, tentative and gentle at first, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

It wasn’t like any kiss you’d had before. 

It was slow, unhurried, filled with the kind of warmth that made you forget every warning you’d given yourself about him. 

You could feel his heartbeat against your own, his fingers curling into your hair as if he was afraid you might disappear.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, and there was no hint of that usual confidence. He looked… hopeful.

“Think I could finally take you on a date?” he asked softly, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You smiled, feeling your walls crumble in a way you hadn’t thought possible. “Don’t make me regret it, Dominic.”

He let out a laugh, warm and relieved, his eyes bright with something that looked a lot like joy. “I won’t,” he promised, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Not this time. I mean it.”

And as he stood there, holding you close in the dim glow of the backstage lights, you felt something click into place. 

You didn’t know where this was going, or if he’d really changed for good, but in that moment, it felt like enough. 

[shoyudon]

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ

them forgetting a date night.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"

note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.

the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.

but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?

clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"

you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.

"y/n . . . why did you—"

"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.

for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.

"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"

before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.

"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.

"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."

gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"

"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.

the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.

walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.

sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.

three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.

maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.

your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.

"what?"

"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."

scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."

you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."

"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.

sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."

you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.

all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.

"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."

dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.

despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.

it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".

wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.

he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."

you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."

toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.

"bye, toji. good luck."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.2k (10k+ including kofi/patreon exclusive drabble)

a/n: the teaser for this got way more attention than i was expecting lol i hope u guys enjoy the final product!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better at the time.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

The position made it so that Jungkook was technically sitting behind you. Since you were on Mingyu's lap and sitting sideways on the couch, you were now being sandwiched by both boys. Jungkook still kept a small distance, making you have to turn around in Mingyu's hold to look at him.

While you probably embodied the image of a deer caught in headlights, Mingyu seemed completely relaxed, hands still comfortably on your waist.

"I was actually just catching Y/N up," said Mingyu, an overly cocky tone in his voice as his hands continued to feel up and down your waist.

"Oh? Without me?", chuckled Jungkook, leaning a bit closer.

"What the hell is happening?"

"How much did you tell her?", Jungkook ignored you, staring directly at Mingyu. His eyes would occasionally trail down to Mingyu's hands on your waist, a sour look overtaking his face.

It seemed like you had missed a few chapters in the friendship; there was some unspoken agreement between the two in which you were the main character. While it bothered you to think that they'd discussed you in private, the enigma of it all also excited you. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the way in which Mingyu's entire demeanor had become possessive when you brought up dating. The reason didn't matter when you were already beginning to heat up.

"Just caught her up a little on the, uh, situation," said Mingyu with an unrecognizable glint in his eyes, "Did you know she was thinking about dating?", he asked Jungkook, ignoring your presence while still having his hands on you.

Mingyu's hand had made it under your shirt by now, feeling the warm skin of your back.

"Oh? Since when?", he finally turned to you, scooting up a tiny bit more.

Due to his new proximity, you turned your head around, facing Mingyu again. That proved to be a mistake, as Mingyu was even closer to you. Jungkook also took advantage of this, braving a few more inches in closeness and letting his face come closer to your neck. He pushed your hair aside for better access, simply breathing against you as he awaited your answer.

Responding was the hardest thing in the world. Your mind was simply not working at the moment, the situation being far too intimate for you to fully function. On one side you had the huge hunk of a man that was Mingyu, warm hands against the bare skin of your back all while you sat on his leg. On the other, you had the gorgeous embodiment of a boyfriend that was Jungkook, whose fingers were now slowly running up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake while he nosed at your neck.

You had your two gorgeous best friends giving you the best type of attention all while your brain fizzled with your tipsiness.

"Answer him, baby," murmured Gyu.

"I- I just," you sighed when Jungkook began leaving feather-light kisses on your neck, "just thought about maybe getting b-back in the market? To meet someone and-"

"But you have us?", Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, seemingly unable to understand the platonic nature behind your friendship.

"That's what I said!", added Mingyu.

"But I want a boyfriend, n-not-"

"Boyfriend? Baby ...", Jungkook disconnected from you, grabbing your head to make you twist your neck in order to look at him, "That's just an upgrade. You want a boyfriend? We'll give you two. You don't need to be looking around for some loser," his eyes gradually lowered to your lips as he spoke, breath heavy against them.

"K-Kook, I-"

"Please say yes? Please just ... Let me show you? We can show you together. Right, Gyu?", he murmured, mere inches away from your mouth.

Before you knew it, you were nodding, far too desperate to voice your desire.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had thought of kissing Jungkook before. Being one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen before, it was hard at first to keep your relationship with him fully platonic, having had to beat down a small crush you had developed on him at an earlier age. His kiss, however, was not something you could've ever predicted.

Even with the awkward angle, and Mingyu's hands still on you, Jungkook gave you the dizziest of kisses. He knew how to get you hooked immediately, starting with a heavy kiss that had you chasing him the moment he pulled away. With a quiet and breathy laugh, he kissed you again, languid and wet in the way his tongue snuck between your lips, seamlessly making its way into your mouth to play with yours.

Shamelessly, you moaned against his lips, hands digging into Mingyu's shoulders as he continued to hold you. The slight awkwardness of making out with Jungkook while giving your back to Mingyu, yet still holding onto him, was present in your mind. However, Jungkook's sensual yet playful way of kissing you took up most of your attention.

But you knew Mingyu to be a whiny mess of a man at times, so you knew it wouldn't be long before he attempted to regain your attention. The evidence was in the way he felt you up all throughout, hands on your breasts as he pinched at your nipples through your shirt, groaning at the feeling of your tits in his hands. Occasionally, his hands would go down to your cunt, ghosting the place where you needed the most attention before making their way back up to your chest.

Pulling you away by the waist, you were forced to separate from Jungkook, eyes still closed as your lips chased his own. This time Jungkook's lips also attempted to regain possession over yours, with his tongue catching a few last nasty licks of your own.

"It's my turn," grumbled Mingyu, making you turn back to him, "You're on my lap but kiss him only? Baby, we're supposed to share you!", he pouted.

Giggling, you got even closer to him, cradling his head in your hands as you lightly pulled at his hair.

You turned to Jungkook one quick last time, "Kookie?"

His eyes lit up at your question, giving you a view of his round eyes as he gave you his full attention.

"Scoot closer, yeah? Put your hands around me," you encouraged him, humming in contentment when he went above and beyond and began to kiss your neck in the process.

Turning back to Mingyu, there was still an ever-so-present pout on his features, making you giggle again before finally kissing his lips.

Now, Mingyu's kiss was completely different from that of Jungkook's.

You had known Mingyu for as much time as you had Jungkook. He had a bit of a reputation when you had first met, being known as a guy who would occasionally sleep around with other idols, and sometimes staff. Now at 26, he had been retired from that era of his life for a while, but you'd be lying if you didn't say he always made you wonder. He always had all the girls swooning, instantly falling in love with his outgoing persona and his incomparable charisma. His looks also did not help matters. Being so handsome and likable, you occasionally fell victim to his charms, sometimes needing to snap yourself out of R rated thoughts you'd have about him on nights you were feeling particularly lonely.

His kiss felt exactly the way he looked. It was rich and insanely hot. Mingyu made love to your mouth, using his tongue in ways you didn't know a man could. He was domineering in the way he kissed you, with a firm hand on your jaw so he could position you in a way that allowed him to kiss you just the way he liked. And he liked it nasty. He liked it wet and filthy and in a way that made you sure you'd cum if he kissed you for a little too long.

You could barely catch up to the situation, having one gorgeous man fucking your mouth with his tongue while the other suckled at the most sensitive spots of your neck. In the meantime, your cunt was gushing with essence, already so extremely wet you were beginning to squirm in Mingyu's hold.

You attempted to pull away once, only to be enticed into kissing Mingyu again as he groaned against you, tongue seducing yours once more. You attempted to pull away twice, having his arms wrap tighter around you. The third time is when you finally succeeded, whining against Mingyu's mouth that you needed more. This caused yet another groan to come out of Mingyu, only to be echoed by Jungkook's own groan against your neck.

They both disconnected from you, looking to each other in a decisive manner, almost as if to formulate a game plan.

"I want her first," said Jungkook, slapping Mingyu's hands away from you and attempting to move you onto his lap.

Mingyu stopped him, holding you tighter against him as he rebutted, "You? She's already on my lap. I should have her first."

"Dude, I'm about to blow up. Just let me fuck her and then you can have her while I recover," be argued, hands fighting Mingyu's off of you.

"Why can't I choose?", you butt in, annoyed.

Their demeanors swiftly changed at your interruption, both pairs of hands now touching either your waist or thighs in an intimate yet caring manner.

"What do you want, pretty? My cock? Hmm?", asked Mingyu with a sweet voice in an attempt to convince you. Meanwhile, Jungkook wordlessly kissed at your neck again, nibbling at your ear and smirking at how you shuddered at the feeling.

"I-", you were already lightheaded again, "I wanna suck your dick, Gyu. Want Kookie to fuck me while I suck your dick," you murmured, hand holding Jungkook's head against your neck to keep his kisses coming.

Mingyu groaned at this, nodding absentmindedly. He began to shift, attempting to get up in order to get himself ready for you, but you stopped him.

"Undress me? Both of you?", you asked in the softest voice you could muster. You wanted both their hands on you at once, feeling your nude body for the first time. You knew their desire for you was already clouding their minds, so you wanted to do everything in your power to relish in every single touch, every look filled with lust they would give you.

Without another word, both boys got up, standing you up with them. Their hands were messy and uncoordinated as they got every garment off you, feeling you up in the process. Your breasts were groped and fondled multiple times in the process, while Jungkook pressed your ass up against him any chance he could, groaning at the slight stimulation.

Finally undressed, you decided to turn around once more, facing Jungkook as you kissed him with no warning. You smirked into his mouth when you felt Mingyu grab you from behind and press your ass up against him, grinding slowly against you. You knew it wasn't enough to get him anywhere, but you enjoyed knowing he was needy enough to use you in such a fruitless way just for a little stimulation.

Meanwhile, your hands went straight to Jungkook's oversized top, hands sneaking underneath to feel up his muscular form, hands harshly rubbing on his strong chest. It seemed Jungkook was overly sensitive to your touch. He whined needy breaths into your mouth as you felt him up. Taking off his shirt, you moaned as you saw the gorgeous figure of your best friend.

God, he was the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. You couldn't wait until you saw the rest of his pretty body, sculpted by the endless hours of work you knew he always put into the gym. The endless hours in which you had accompanied him to said gym, always having to look away before you started to have inpure thoughts of your best friend.

He helped you in the removing of his pants and boxers, throwing his head back when your hands immediately went to find his cock and play with it. Burying his head in your neck, he groaned against your skin, whining at the feeling of your hands finally wrapped around him after having wanted you for so long.

Behind you, you heard shuffling, assuming Mingyu to have been removing his own clothes as he waited for his turn of your attention to come. You felt badly at leaving him hanging for too long, knowing him to have an overly impatient disposition when he didn't receive attention for extended periods of time.

Playing with Jungkook's cock just for a little longer, you gave him one last kiss before turning around and trapping Mingyu in his own kiss. Unlike with Jungkook, you didn't linger long, opting instead to push him down the large conversation pit – thank god for Jungkook's insanely big mansion – located just a few steps away from the couch where it had all begun. This way you could have all the space you wanted to play with your friends.

Now lying down, Mingyu looked you up and down like you were his next prey, licking his lips at the sight and motioning at you to come sit on him despite knowing that you wanted something else.

"C'mon, baby. Ditch him. Don't you want me instead?," he leaned upwards to try and convince you of sitting on him.

It was hard to deny him with his cock staring up at you in such a challenging manner. He was equally as gorgeous as your other bestie, but in so many different ways. Mingyu was so big and thick and buff, he had you salivating at the mere sight of him. He was so toned yet so thick, and his dick matched perfectly. God, the thought of that monster inside you had your eyes rolling back already. Did he really mean it when he said he'd be yours? That he and Jungkook would share you? The idea of a boyfriend sounded stupid in retrospect.

Despite all your better judgment telling you to jump Mingyu and let him impale you with his cock right then and there, you knew that starting off with Jungkook would give you a better buildup. You also knew that based on Jungkook's competitive personality, he'd become even whinier than Mingyu if you didn't let him take care of you first.

Fully determined, you turned back to Jungkook, who had been standing there in a trance, now having a better view of your body and keeping his eyes religiously glued to it. You grabbed onto him and walked yourself back to the large conversation pit, eyes glued to Jungkook's in a seductive manner as you guided him to the area in which Mingyu was already lying down. In only a few seconds, you let go of Jungkook and positioned yourself in front of Mingyu at an eye level with his cock while he sat up and looked down at you with a pained look in his eyes. In all fours, your back faced Jungkook, hinting at him to get behind you so that you could finally get back to business.

With a groan, Jungkook knelt behind you, needy hands feeling the curve of your back as he pushed you up against him. In the meantime, you began softly playing with Mingyu's cock, making him throw his head back at finally receiving some attention where he'd been craving it for so long.

"You're so pretty, fuck ... No one deserves you, baby. Too fucking pretty n perfect n fuck ... Can I fuck you now, pretty? Hmm? Let me have this pretty pussy while you suck off your bestie," rambled Jungkook from behind you, head lowered so he could kiss at your hips.

You whined and pushed up your ass against him, giving him the green light to do whatever he wanted, when suddenly he stopped.

"Fuck, wait. Condom?", he asked, making Mingyu groan, as you were about to engulf him in your mouth but also halted your movements to tend to Jungkook's question.

"It's okay, Kookie. The company put me on some new birth control. You can fuck me raw," you smirked up at Mingyu, giggling at yet another groan of his.

"He gets you raw? Baby, I'm the one who started all this! How's that fair?", he huffed.

Taking a quick separation from Jungkook, you gestured for Mingyu to lean down so he could meet you halfway. With a wet kiss, you made your way to his ear and whispered against it.

"I'm saving you for last, baby. Gonna ride you til I cry ... Now be good and cum in my mouth?"

He groaned so loudly his entire body vibrated under you as you crawled your way back to your previous position. Jungkook simply laughed at the interaction.

Feeling you up once more, Jungkook finally grabbed onto his cock and lined himself up, groaning at the gushing wetness that coated his cock as he entered you. Your own moan was masked by Mingyu's cock, which you were currently working into your mouth.

"Oh, fuck ... It's so tight, baby ... It's so fuckin' warm n tight n so pretty, baby. Such a pretty cunt," babbled Jungkook, immediately pussydrunk.

Could he be blamed? He had wanted you for years. From the moment he met you, he cursed at himself for being so damn shy and initiating a friendship with you rather than showing you his interest. His members constantly teased him over it, even so many years into his crush. When he first found out Mingyu also had similar ideas in mind, he felt conflicted. But he ultimately grew close enough to the two of you to the point where he wouldn't mind sharing you with his bestest of friends.

Your muffled moans completely took him out of it, taking away any ability to think or speak. He simply chased after you with his hips, canting them against your own as you pushed back against him.

"Is it good, pretty? Like my cock?" he winced at the way you tightened any time he'd speak to you.

"So good, Kookie. So big ...," you pulled away from Mingyu to breathe before going back to licking and sucking at his tip, moaning against him as his eyes rolled back.

You were practically centipede in Jungkook's living room, with Mingyu lying on his back as you gagged on his cock and Jungkook pounding into you from behind. All your senses were overtaken by the mindless quest for pleasure you had all taken on.

"You're so good with your mouth, pretty ... Fuck, look so pretty stuffed of cock," Mingyu gasped, throwing his head back, "Like how he fucks you, baby? Just wait til I get to you ... Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so good ..."

You moaned against his cock, already thirsty for him even as Jungkook continued to ram into you. Pushing your ass back against him, you felt Jungkook's nails dig into the skin of your hips, adoring how malleable you were for him.

"Baby ... 'm gonna cum soon ... Feels so fucking good, pretty. You're so fucking g-good for me. Wanted you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea ..." murmured Jungkook as he entered his high, hips lacking any control in their movements.

Jungkook had always been the most sensible of the bunch, never holding back from expressing how strongly he felt for the people in his life. The pleasure must've been so much that it made him unfiltered in revealing the undeniable effect you had on him.

"W-where do I cum? Fuck, gonna fucking cum, it's so good, baby. Take it so good for me, shit ..."

You were too busy gagging on cock to respond right away, so you had to take a minute to pull away and catch your breath, replacing your mouth with your hand while also holding yourself up with the other one.

"Inside? Cum inside, Kookie. I'll- I'll cum too," you were breathless, barely able to get the words out as a petulant Mingyu whined at you to help him finish, hands going behind your head and lightly encouraging you to get your mouth back on him.

"Inside? Fuck, okay, baby. Gonna fill you up, yeah?", he groaned, muttering to himself right afterwards, "Fucking finally ..."

His hips sped up drastically as his high approached, making you choke around Mingyu not just due to his girth, but due to the intense ramming against your ass. Though harsh and with an unmatchable energy, you continued to try and push your hips back toward his own, wanting to milk him dry as your own high invaded your senses.

His desperation for you made you feel so incredibly good, like you were the prettiest girl to ever exist. It made you arch your back a little deeper, take a little more of Gyu's cock, dig your nails a little harsher into the cushion of the conversation pit. You heightened all your actions just to feel him a little more.

And then it reached its crescendo. All while Jungkook whimpered and cried at how sensitive he felt at your tightening walls, Mingyu also found his own high. You were too distracted with your own orgasm to acknowledge him asking you for permission to cum in your mouth, instead suctioning more intensely to wordlessly give him an enthusiastic yes, please fill up my mouth with your cum.

By the time Mingyu filled up your mouth, Jungkook had already finished his high, now kneeling behind you as he peppered kisses all over your back and hips, whispering against you how good you had been for him and how pretty you looked with his cum leaking out of you. Fully drunk on the aftermath of his high, Jungkook loved on you like any lover would.

In the meantime, you attempted to swallow every bit of Mingyu's essence, moaning against his cock afterwards as you licked at every lone drop that made it out of your mouth.

By the end of it, you were all completely spent. Each of you dropped one by one, with Jungkook lying on his back as he caught his breath, you falling onto Mingyu, and Mingyu attempting to pull you up to climb his body so that he could kiss you again.

With the very little energy you had regained, you crawled up Mingyu's body, making out with him as he attempted to lick his way into your mouth in order to taste himself in your mouth. Kissing evolved into feeling each other up, which then became grinding your now sensitive pelvises against each other. Surprisingly, Mingyu was still half-hard, which gave you the perfect surface to grind your cunt into. He sat up, making you sit up with him before beginning to leave kisses on the side of your neck.

"Baby? Gonna ride me like you said, right? Just .. Fuck, want that pretty pussy, baby. It's my turn to have that tiny little cunt wrapped around me, yeah?", he murmured between kisses.

You gave in to him easily, gasping at every word that accompanied every kiss.

Nodding mindlessly, you almost forgot to think back to Jungkook, who was probably still recovering from his orgasm.

"W-what about Kookie?," you mumbled when Mingyu began positioning you above his cock.

"Don't worry about me, pretty. Just enjoying the view", you turned back to see Jungkook lying back on his elbows, one hand on his semi-flacid cock as he began to work himself up at the sight of you sitting on your best friend.

Well, that worked well enough for you.

"Now pay attention to me, princess. Been ignoring me all day today," Mingyu grabbed onto your chin to make you look at him, thumb softly rubbing at your chin as he tilted your head back.

You were insanely wet by now, not only from your orgasm but also from just Mingyu's mere presence. Knowing how intense and touchy Mingyu always was in PG scenarios, you couldn't help your eyes rolling back at the thought of him between the sheets. His heavy cock on your tongue had been enough of a taste to know how good it'd feel when finally inside you.

His strong hands lifted you up a bit, rescuing his dick from under you as he helped you position it under you, holding tightly onto your hips when you began to lower yourself down. You would've moaned and whined at the immense stretch, but Mingyu had different plans for your mouth. His thick fingers slipped into your mouth, making you gag a bit before you began sucking on them.

Too many things were on your mind, with all your senses being invaded by Mingyu – though also accompanied by Jungkook's low moans of pleasure behind you. Even as your body was bouncing against Mingyu's, attempting to match his thrusts, your head was completely empty of any thought. All you could think about was Mingyu, and his cock, and his fingers, and his pretty body, and and and-

"Feel good, princess? Love my cock, hmm? Tell me how much you like my cock, angel," he groaned as he took his fingers out of your mouth, using the wet fingertips to tweak at your nipple as his mouth engulfed the opposite one.

"So much ... It's so big. Fuck, Gyu, you're s-so big ..."

Barely able to formulate words, you cried as Mingyu helped you bounce on him, occasionally opting to grind in a way that made your clit get the perfect stimulation. It all felt too good. Mingyu's gigantic hands on your body while his lips suckled on your tits as Jungkook groaned so prettily behind you. You were far too sensitive and alert to hold back from the life-altering orgasm that was to come. So, you voiced this concern to Mingyu.

His response came in the form of flipping you around and trapping you underneath him. His big hands held onto your waist, lifting you a bit so he could angle himself just right. Eyes rolling back and nails digging onto the bed, you lost yourself in him. Jungkook seemed to be completely lost to pleasure also. You could finally see him after Mingyu flipped you over, and fuck ... He looked so desperate, so depraved in the way he hammered into his cock, mouth permanently agape as he let out little praises to you.

"I need you to cum for me, okay, princess? Show Jungkook how good I make you feel. Need you to milk me dry, yeah? Can you do that for me?", he dumbly talked down at you with a tone that could only be seen as patronizing in any other context. But here, you loved it. You loved how dumbly he treated you. Because it was true. You could not think, you could not speak. Your senses were all gone and replaced by a constant stream of cock cock cock as Mingyu finally made you reach your orgasm.

Mingyu played with you through the entirety of your orgasm, rubbing at your clit with one hand while holding you with the other, his lips constantly attached to your tits.

"G-gyu, I- fuck! C-cumming! Please, I-" you had no idea what you were begging for as your orgasm completely took over, making you tighten around Mingyu as he mumbled into your chest, letting you know of his own impending high.

Despite having already had an equally fulfilling orgasm, this second one brought out a new sensitivity in you. Falling under Mingyu, you whimpered at the way he flipped you over again to lay on his chest, caressing your back and pressed you up against him, even more when Jungkook laid beside you and softly ran his hands through your hair.

The three of you laid there together, with you halfway laying on Mingyu while Jungkook laid on the opposite side of you, cuddling into you. Behind you, you could feel Jungkook's flacid member, meaning he had also reached a second high along with you and Mingyu. Lying there together, completely sober now, you eventually let sleep take over you, nuzzling into both boys in a satisfied manner.

A few days passed by since your encounter with the 97s. They were pretty eventful as far as your job went, attending a few photoshoots and practicing constantly for whatever new activity was coming up for your group. However, things between you and your friends had remained stagnant. You didn't think they had ghosted you or anything like that, but the timing of your busy schedules picking up right after breaking your platonic relationship did make you anxious.

When you'd woken up that next day, Mingyu was gone, having left one of the packs of ramen cooked and ready for you with a note attached detailing how much he enjoyed last night, saying he had wanted to stay and say goodbye but had a a schedule that had been calling for him. It was signed with his name and a little heart.

Jungkook had been half-awake already, having carried you to his bed when he had woken up, right after Mingyu's departure. You had wanted to talk about last night, but also had a schedule over at the company, so you left after cuddling with a sleepy Jungkook for a short while, not really discussing anything, yet sharing a sweet kiss as a goodbye for the day.

And so you hadn't really seen them since then. It was the unfortunate reality of idol life. That night had been the first in a few weeks in which you'd even been able to see each other. You were unsure when the next one would come, but you needed it to be soon. The remembrance of that night kept messing with your head, especially any time you'd see either of your friends in passing at the Hybe building, never being free long enough for a worthy interaction.

On the fourth night since the incident, you finally had more time off for yourself, hoping maybe they did too. Mingyu got ahead of you in that aspect, texting you the previous night, somehow aware of your time off, and asking you over. There was no deeper interpretation to be had in his message, as it was pretty straightforward. Nervous as to whether to expect a repeat of last time or a conversation about it, you let him know you'd be there.

Jungkook and Mingyu had always been closer to each other than to you. Going out together was always easier for them since no scandalous rumors would arise from it. They were also often in the same friend groups, knowing more male idols than you did due to the nature of the industry. It was easy for you to assume that they had already spoken about what had happened, even before it happened. Throughout the night, they kept referencing some type of agreement they'd had regarding you and dating. It was hard to assume, but you wondered if they meant sharing you – as strange as it sounded.

Your questions would only be answered tonight, leading you to some anxiety before finally arriving to Mingyu's.

~

"I missed you," were Mingyu's first words when he welcomed you, trapping you in a warm hug as he usually did. Hugging Mingyu was, in your opinion, one of your life's greatest privileges. He was so big and strong, it always felt like being completely engulfed in the safest of spaces.

His hug was followed by one of Jungkook's, less tight in nature but just as rewarding. He held onto your waist and nuzzled against you, always attempting to bury himself in whoever he held in his arms.

Quietly, they guided you to Mingyu's living room, slightly smaller than Jungkook's but still very much reminiscent of a millionaire's home.

You looked over to the coffee table, tilting your head in confusion at the presence of cans of diet soda rather than the usual alcohol Mingyu would always provide. Sensing your confusion, Mingyu chuckled.

"No alcohol today. Thought you might wanna talk about what happened," he sat down on the couch, patting the empty space next to him so you'd join him. Behind to you, Jungkook joined, sitting on a lone seat facing you and Mingyu. No matter where you looked, the two boys would be in front of you.

"We've been keeping you in the dark, huh?," pondered Jungkook, handing you a freshly opened can of soda, "Sorry about that. No easy way to tell your best friend you're into her."

Oh. He was going straight to the point.

"I like you, if that wasn't clear already," he let out a breathless chuckle, attempting to hold eye contact but failing.

He was much better at this when he was working his way into your pants.

"And so do I," interrupted Mingyu.

Wait.

"Are you-"

"We both like you."

"I- Have you talked about this?"

"Uh, it's come up, yeah," Mingyu scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't really know what to say ..."

"We just ... You had fun the other night, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, it was great," you took a breath, "but we're friends. Right?"

You weren't sure if you were being rational or not. Did you like Mingyu and Jungkook? Sure. But together? At the same time? You had never considered such type of relationship.

"We- we don't have to be just friends," added Jungkook, not much confidence in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, "We like you, and we know that you like us back. Maybe not in the same way, but you do. That night would've gone very differently if you didn't."

You could've lied. You could've lied and left it off as an amazing one night stand with your two best friends. But the thought of never feeling what you felt that night ever again was not something you wanted to risk. It wasn't just about the pleasure. You had meant what you said that night; you wanted a stable relationship. You wanted someone to call a best friend, but be more than that. Someone to hold you at night. The three of you had always been glued by the hip, but you had never really thought of what it'd be like to take the next step – to have them be that person (or those people).

There were just too many questions in your head. Would this change your relationship negatively? Would they actually want to share you? Would this go anywhere?

You opted for answering Jungkook's question with another question.

"Are you okay with both of you liking me?"

They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu ultimately answered.

"We've discussed it," he started, "When we first realized we both liked you, it did cause some tension. But the closer we got to you, the more we realized that we just wanted to be with you. Whether as friends or as more, we just wanted you."

You gulped at the confession, feeling your face heating up all of the sudden.

"I- I don't know what to say, I- I like you too. Both of you. I always thought that it was just as friends, but ... there'd be moments where I'd wonder. And after that night, I just-"

Jungkook leaned forwards, grabbing onto your hands. He smiled, ignoring most of your words and paying attention to what he cared about the most – you liked him.

"You like me back? Us? Do you- We could treat you so right. I- I've wanted you since we met. I've liked you for so long and ... Not just for sex. We could be more," his words were slightly frantic in nature, almost as if he wanted to sell something to you.

He didn't need any selling. You liked him. It became more and more glaring by the minute.

"Nothing has to change. We've been friends for this long. Just ... That guy you're looking for? To settle down with? That could be us," added Mingyu, placing a palm on your thigh for reassurance.

"What happens if I say yes?"

Mingyu's eyes grew dark.

"Do you want the PG version?"

You shook your head, mouth agape as you looked to Mingyu.

His face lit up as he leaned closer and closer to you, lips approaching the sensitive spots he had discovered on your neck just a few days ago. Stopping for just one moment, he looked to Jungkook to gesture he sit opposite of you, making you become sandwiched by both men yet again.

Now with both boys kissing down your neck, you allowed your head to rest against the back of the couch, attempting to fight the shudders escaping your body at the sensation.

"As our girlfriend ... we'd take you on dates," Mingyu sucked at a particularly sensitive spot, licking at it afterwards, "buy you pretty gifts, keep you warm at night," he took a pause, licking up the length of your neck, "take care of you every day."

Jungkook continued from where Mingyu left off, leaving soft whispers of kisses under your ear, "We share you. We take you home, cook for you, protect you," he nipped at your lobe, "We love you like no one else could ever imagine."

By now, you were gone. Through their whispered promises, their hands had decided to intrude your space yet again. Jungkook's had found a home between your legs, running up your skirt and gracing at your cunt, but only enough to have you puffing out breaths of desire. Mingyu's had migrated upwards, lowering the straps of your dress and liberating your breasts, hands needy as they pulled and tweaked at your nipples.

"What do you say, princess?", Mingyu pulled away, lips reaching your own, "Wanna have two boyfriends?", he pecked at your lips sensually.

"Mhmm ...", you nodded pathetically, not trusting your voice.

Jungkook groaned at your answer, hand finally slipping inside your panties, "Good girl ..."

"Fuck, gonna treat you so good, gorgeous," said Mingyu, continuing to kiss at your lips tongue seeking your own.

His lips trailed down to your breasts, sensually licking at your nipples, gradually giving them more and more attention. By the end of it, you were crying at the sensitivity.

Jungkook continued to play with your cunt, driving his fingers through your folds at a rhythmic pace that made your hips take a mind of their own, grinding upwards with a complete lack of coordination.

You were so focused on Jungkook's fingers that you didn't notice Mingyu making his way down your body, now kneeling between your legs as his lips made their way up your thighs, marking them to his heart's contentment.

"So fucking pretty ... Been wanting your pretty thighs around my head for years, princess ...", he mumbled to himself, nosing his way towards your cunt. When he finally arrived, he nudged Jungkook's finger's away, sticking his nose against your cunt as he took a shameless whiff of your scent, groaning gruttaly against you.

"So good ... Fuck, need this pretty cunt so bad. Can I have it, baby? Hmm? Let me have a taste of this pretty pussy?" he asked between depraved licks of your cunt through your panties.

Hiccuping back a sob, you nodded, opening your legs wider as you took a hold of Jungkook's hand for support.

Needing no further confirmation, Mingyu went straight into your cunt, ignoring the obstacle of your panties by pushing them aside. In the meantime, Jungkook's hand went to your chin, turning your whiny lips to his own and giving you a languid kiss. His tongue played with your own, taking advantage of your constant cries of pleasure to suck at your tongue and bite your lips as much as he desired.

Your hands went from holding onto Jungkook for support to his pants, undoing the drawstring as he continued to kiss you. With shaky hands, you snuck your hands in, pulling out his hardened cock as you began to jerk it in your hand. Now you were even; equally pathetic cries being released into each other's mouths as you both chased your highs.

Beneath you, you almost missed the way Mingyu's hips began humping against the couch, groans being released into your cunt due to the stimulation. You were far too distraed by kissing Jungkook, but Mingyu's eyes were rolled all the way back as his hips became uncontrollable, cumming in his boxers just moments before he licked you to completion.

Even as you came, Mingyu's lips didn't leave your cunt, just as yours stayed on Jungkook's. The room was a mess of wet sounds of tongues as Mingyu finally separated himself from you to take a breath.

"Prettiest fucking cunt," he mumbled to himself as he let himself lay on the floor of his living room in exhaustion.

"C-cum! 'm gonna cum ...", Jungkook managed to mumble against your lips, attempting to pull back but being enticed by your lips to continue kissing. Your hands sped up at his warning, warning his pretty seed to coat your hands as he reached his nirvana.

With a last groan, Jungkook froze against you while riding his high, hips pathetic in their movements against your hand. Bringing up your hand to your lips, you made a show of licking the remnants of cum, grinning when you beard a unison of groans from both boys.

Out of breath, Jungkook leaned against you, cuddling into you with a satisfied yet smile.

"So, was that a yes?"

Mingyu made his way to the couch again, taking up the last bit of personal space you had.

You chuckled.

"Yes. That was a yes."

to read short 2.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, oral (f receiving), jerking off, cucking, penetrative sex, reunion sex, etc.

wc: 296 (teaser); 2770 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Fuck, missed you so much. You have no idea," whispered Jungkook against your neck.

After having cornered you in one of Hybe's many endless hallways, Jungkook had grabbed you by the hand and led you to an empty changing room, pushing you up against the door and burying his face in your neck. It was mostly innocent, sans the feathery kisses down your neck. His hands were still in appropriate places.

"I was only gone for a month," you giggled against him.

"A month too long. Do you know how annoying Mingyu gets when you're not around? Jesus Christ," he groaned in mock annoyance, refusing to separate from your neck.

Breathing you in, he hummed, arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you.

"Where is he, by the way?"

"What, not enough attention from one of your boyfriends?", he softly bit at your neck in defiance, licking at the mark he left when you jumped in surprise.

"No! Just ... Missed seeing you two together."

After only a month of entering a romantic relationship, you were embarrassed to admit, but you had become quite needy, always wanting them around. This had led to a few problems within your company, which was blissfully unaware of your three-way relationship, but still had to deal with how much closer you had gotten – especially in public. There had been a few more rumors as of late, though none actually traced back to anything credible.

"He's at the gym. Should be here any minute, though, since he knows you're back."

"Hmm," you hummed, disconnecting him from your neck despite his complaints, "Wanna start without him?" you grinned.

With a boyish nod and a peak of his bunny teeth, the pretty boy agreed, dragging you over to one of the empty couches in the room.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[wrioluvr]

『shhh, not so loud! make me. huh?』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x male reader

note: thank u all the support on pt 1 ♡♡ was thinking about a scenario where slutty yandere somehow manages to convince his darling to actually fuck him after a lot of begging... even tho reader is scared his large cock will break him apart <3 pt 1

cw: he/him pronouns for reader, mentions of reader's ex-boyfriends, loss of yandere's virginity, implied violence

nervous was the way you were feeling as you made your way to your boyfriend's house. the two of you had started dating a few weeks ago, when after you'd let him suck your dick, he broke down crying, admitted to how desperately he was in love with you, and pleaded on his knees for you to own him and treat him as your personal fucktoy. frantically, you quickly assured him you would treat him as an equal in the relationship, to his slight disappointment. of course, he was ecstatic that you'd agreed to be his boyfriend, but you were his god, how could he not worship such a kind being? in your eyes, despite his rather.... overly submissive behaviour, he was kinda cute, so why not give it a go? if only you knew how deep his obsession truly ran...

and with an progression in your relationship, came a progression in intimacy level as well. the previous day, he had gathered up the courage to ask you to top him, which is why you were making your way to his apartment now. the current fear you were feeling was not for yourself, but for him, you worried that he would hurt himself trying to bottom. you were aware you were bigger than most guys... you wondered how to tell him you weren't too sure about the whole anal thing after all.

but what you did not expect to see the moment you opened the door to his room, was him on his bed on all fours, ass up, using his index and middle finger to spread his tight pink hole towards you. he turned his head around at the sound of your arrival and looked back at you with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "baby! thank god you're finally here... please fuck me already, i've been waiting for hourssss......." his words came out in a pitiful whine.

your eyes widen at his plea. "woah, okay, let's slow down." quickly, you make him sit up, much to his confusion. he was already ready, so why were you hesitant?

taking his hand and squeezing it gently, you tell him what's on your mind. "okay, uh... i'm not too sure if i want to fuck you right now..."

"wha- but- but why? you promised!"

"i know i did, but i'm worried for you. i know i'm kinda... big, so i don't want to make you bleed or anything..."

at your reasoning, he can't help but whine in frustration. don't you understand? he doesn't care about how much it hurts! he wants it to hurt! his one wish is for you to completely destroy him! usually he'd back down, since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with his desperation, but he decided to be a little selfish.

reaching over and fondling your crotch, he looked at you with a silent, horny plea in his eyes, then proceeded to sit in your lap and grind on your bulge sensually. he whimpered as your clothed dick got harder and prodded at his hole.

taken back by his sudden boldness, you let him straddle you. "hey... did you even listen to anything i said?"

"forgive me, darling. but i want this so bad. give it to me, pretty please?" he continues to roll his hips on your crotch, not sounding terribly sorry at all.

you sigh, realising you can't change his mind. "okay, just let me know if it hurts, and i'll stop immediately. alright?"

"mhm." but secretly, he'd moan in pleasure no matter how painful it was, relishing in it.

"at least let me prepare you first...?"

"i've been fingering myself for the past hour, you don't need to." he giggled, as he got back down on all fours on his bed, hoping you were proud of his forward thinking. "i want our first time to be special, so i'm fully prepared."

"wait... you're a virgin?" upon hearing your question, he turned his head back to look at you with an incredulous expression on his pretty face, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but of course, i've been saving myself for you. i don't want anyone else using me." he bit his lip, making sure you knew how much he valued you taking his virginity. he suddenly realised how he'd completely forgotten to ask (or stalk to find out) about your past relationships. "what about you, darling? are you a virgin?" secretly, he was hoping the answer would be yes, but deep down he knew you were far too desirable for that to be true.

"nah. i dated a few guys before, but they broke up with me because they said i was too dumb." you'd never really thought about it deeply, but saying it out loud made you realise that it was rather embarrassing...

"how the fuck could they say that? you're so perfect and kind... forget about them, darling... just focus on me. you won't need to think about those ungrateful whores ever again." his change in tone caught you off guard, grip tightening around your arm. this was the first time he'd ever sounded genuinely pissed off. but this was quickly masked by his usual lovesick smile as he resolved to make you feel so good, your attention would forever be on him and him only.

eagerly, he helped you undress and tried not to blush at the sight of your naked body, even as he relished in the sight of the cock he had gotten on his knees for so many times before. you were confused at his reaction. "we're both guys, why are you embarrassed?" you were so silly sometimes. he was finally going to be made your bitch, of course he would be flustered!

with your cock teasing his entrance, he made his final invitation. "i want you to mess me up inside." he begged as he spread his virgin hole open, groaning in pain and pleasure as you pushed halfway into him. immediately, you looked up to his face in concern. "you okay? it's only halfway in..." "fuck, i said i can take it!" with that, he pushed himself onto your cock with a lewd determination, letting out an overly passionate moan as you fully entered him. instinctively, you shushed him, not wanting the neighbours to hear. "shhh! you're being too loud....." "make me." he retorts defiantly, trying to rile you up so you would be rougher. "huh?" fuck, he was really pushing it today. you really didn't want to, but he was making far too much noise. resorting to muting him forcefully, you reach for his mouth and clamp your hands over it, effectively gagging him. his eyes widen, not expecting you to take the bait, but he's in heaven. you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he sluttily sucks on your fingers, all that's left is a series of muffled whimpers.

even though your mind was currently preoccupied with the way your boyfriend's squeezing your cock, you can't help but think about your exes after he brought the topic up. you knew you were a little dumber than most, but did all those guys really break up with you just because you were stupid? he seemed to sense your feelings and clenched harder, making you lose focus and grip his hips tightly. the thought of you thinking about your exes while you were inside him was horrible, he couldn't have that at all! "s-see, darling, my ass is much better than those sluts, isn't it- uuummfff." he could barely form words as he continued to ride you up and down, savouring the way your large length stretched his inner walls to their limit. it was quite the stark contrast - you were thrusting in and out of him at a tender pace, making sure you were never too rough (feeling a little guilty for muffling him so forcefully just now), but yet he was whimpering and writhing all over the bed, gripping the sheets whenever you hit his prostrate at regular intervals. he desperately tried to fuck himself on your cock when you slowed down, noticing his tears, begging you to start again. after a bit, you felt like you were about to reach your climax. "hey, i'm about to co-" "do it inside me." you didn't have time to argue as he pulled you closer into a hug, making you cum inside him, much to his delight. he adored the way you filled him up, feeling you pump load after load into his hole. he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could get pregnant with your child. but alas, he can't have everything. today was already a huge victory. exhausted, he collapsed into your arms as you stroked his hair, apologising for being a little rough and hoping his ass didn't hurt too much. he couldn't really focus on what you were saying as he just lay there and stared up at you affectionately. god, you were just perfect, weren't you?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

in the middle of night, as you slept peacefully, the boy you fucked a few hours ago had just finished going through your phone, his one objective being obtaining the names of your exes. "don't worry, darling.... i'll take care of those unappreciative bastards myself. no one gets to make you feel stupid." he whispers to your ear lovingly before getting out of bed. he hoped you wouldn't be too mad when you found out he killed them when you woke up. or maybe he did, just so you could punish him. ♡

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[heartshapedmisery]

𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 | art donaldson

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ art is your tennis coach, but after he tells you to "loosen up" a bit, you're not sure if your boundaries are strictly professional anymore.

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), soft!dom!art, sub!reader, sexual tension, art gives reader a massage, praise kink, p in v sex, fingering, if i missed anything, please let me know!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3.2k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ standford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  saw challengers the other day .... its all i can think about rn so i made a fic! hope u enjoy! also i know nothing about physical therapy so if this makes no sense I'm sorry

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  may 5th, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

tags ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ @madnessandobsession @hashtagtobefuckinghonest @mitskilover23

A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as your feet carried you quickly across the tennis court, your eyes refusing to leave the bright yellow ball that was coming towards you from the opposite side of the net.

"Keep your eye on the ball, sweetheart!" Art barked, a few blonde strands of his hair falling in his eyes as he watched you simply miss the ball once again.

The nickname caught you off guard, dismantling your focus and causing you to falter your movements. Your arm swung out far enough, but your racket was just below the ball, allowing it to fly right over it and hit the concrete behind you. A tinge of pain seared through your right shoulder, making you wince.

"Shit!" You grumbled in annoyance, your eyes refusing to meet Art's since you knew he would scold you for your miss.

You threw the racket in your hand down at your feet, irritated that you hadn't kept the ball going back and forth between you and Art for more than 2 times in your last 5 tries.

Your mind was somewhere else; normally you were a beast on the court, dominating your competition (all thanks to Art). Today, not so much.

"What was that, the 6th time?" Art scoffed, waving his racket about in the air. "What's wrong with your shoulder?" he pointed his racket in your direction, a look of concern written on his face.

You didn't answer him, walking off the court over to the bench and grabbing your water bottle. He followed you, taking the bottle from your hand when you were done and squirting the liquid into his mouth. Your eyes watched him carefully, following the water droplets as a few fell from the corner of his mouth.

"You're tense, I can see it all over you when you're moving around out there," he said, motioning to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes caught the way his polo clung to his toned chest, sweat starting to seep through from his constant movement.

"I'm fine," you told him, shrugging his words off. "Just a little distracted, is all."

A lopsided grin cracked across his face, not buying your excuses.

"Come here," he motioned for you to move towards him, which you hesitantly responded to before walking to him. Carefully, his hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, your back meeting his front harsher than you had expected.

Your heartbeat quickly picked up, the feeling of his hands on your bare shoulders felt hot and heavy on your skin.

This wasn't the first time Art has caught you off guard like this. You had noticed over the past few months how touchy he could be, whether he was correcting your form or bidding you good job after a match with a rub on the back.

And no matter how much you denied it, you couldn't help but love every second of it. Despite being your coach, he had an effect on you that no one else did. He drove you wild, but of course, he never realized that.

At least, you thought he didn't.

"Your shoulders are very tight, especially your right one. That's why you're not getting a lot of movement," he spoke softly in your ear, his fingers running up the sides of your arms before finally gripping your shoulders. His fingers squeezed your flesh gently, burning against your skin enough to make you let out a sigh he undoubtedly heard.

"You need to loosen up a little bit, sweetheart. All this stress is messing you up, and we can't have that." his voice was smooth and sultry, a total contrast to what it had been only moments before on the court.

His fingers kneaded at the muscles at the top of your back, working out all of the kinks and knots that inhabited your shoulders. Your eyes quickly fell shut as you leaned into his touch, getting lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

"Ah," you breathed out, the feeling of his thumb reaching a spot that unraveled the tension in your right shoulder. "Right there."

You couldn't see it, but a wide smile bloomed across his face at your words, his thumb moving to massage the muscle deeper than before. You let out a breath groan, which (as much as he hated to admit it) indubitably went straight to his lower half.

He didn't expect you to be so responsive to his touch. It surprised him, but that didn't mean he was opposed to it.

"Yeah?" He breathed. "Does that feel better?"

He knew exactly what he was doing, even though you were so oblivious to his shenanigans.

"Yes," you groaned, allowing your head to fall back slightly. You breathed in deeply as he continued his work at your muscles, watching you revel in the relief at the top of your back.

To anyone else, his actions only looked like a coach helping his player work out an injury. But to you and Art, this was months of tension finally boiling over. The way his hands worked across your skin, the pleasurable sighs you let out. It was the two of you crossing a boundary you had never expected to abandon.

"Art!" a voice sounded from the opposite side of the court, making your eyes snap open. His hands stopped their movements, but he didn't remove them from your shoulders as he looked over his shoulder at whoever was trying to get his attention.

It was Mike, the Athletic Director at Stanford.

"Mike," he stated, greeting him with a nod. His voice almost sounded disappointed, not appreciating that he had interrupted the two of you. "What can I do you for?"

His hands finally left your shoulders, your skin feeling dull and light from their wake. You quickly snapped yourself back to reality, brushing away the hot feeling in your chest as you watched the exchange between Art and Mike.

"I just have some paperwork for you to fill out for the semester," he said, "Won't take long."

You watched Art's expression lighten, giving him a slight nod before agreeing to meet him in his office and Mike dismissing himself from the court.

Your gaze met Art's as he turned back to grab his gym bag off the bench and slung it over his shoulder. You watched him carefully, before taking your own bag off the bench.

"Put some ice on that shoulder," he pointed to your right side as he slipped his Ray Bans onto his face to shield his eyes from the sun. "I'll come check on it later, okay?"

You nodded, your mind already racing at the thought. You watched him as he walked away from your view, a feeling of excitement and confusion bubbling in your chest.

You didn't see him again until after lunch. You had been wandering around your small apartment in nothing but a tank top and pajama shorts (due to the blistering California heat outside) with a bag of ice taped around your shoulder, trying to keep your mind occupied until Art arrived.

Your afternoon classes had been canceled so you decided to take it easy at home, trying to keep your arm relaxed as much as possible.

When you heard a simple knock at your door, the feeling from earlier that morning had returned, rising in your chest and making your neck hot at the thought of him. He stood nonchalantly at your door when you swung it open, greeting him with a warm smile.

"Hey," you said, moving out of the way to let him in. He sent you a small smile back, following you into your tiny living room.

"How's the shoulder?" he rasped, taking a look at the ice pack on your arm that was starting to leak.

"Pretty good, hasn't really changed much. Still a little sore, though." you told him honestly, still confused as to why you had tweaked it so bad.

"Mind if I take a look at it?" he asked, gently running his hand up the side of your arm. The sensation sent chills down your spine as you nodded simply. He had to stop doing that or else you were going to go crazy.

"Here, sit down between my legs with your back towards me," he motioned to the couch, sitting behind you before moving to remove the athletic tape from the ice pack. You could feel his warmth behind you, his breath hot against your shoulder as he peered at your injury.

Your breath hitched as you felt his finger hook under the right strap of your tank top, your head turning slightly to catch his eye.

"Do you mind if I move this down?" he asked gently, eager to make sure you were okay with him touching you like this. You nodded, a little quicker than you had anticipated.

"Yeah, that's fine," you breathed, before turning back around. Carefully, he pulled the strap down, exposing your bare shoulder to him. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his calloused hands against your smooth skin, his fingers slowly beginning to knead at your muscles.

"I feel a lot of tension here still," he told you, his hand gently moving to raise your arm up slightly over your head. You felt a pop in your joints, an instant feeling of relief washing through your shoulder. A breathy moan escaped your lips at the movement, grateful that it felt better already.

"Shit," you breathed, thankful for his skillful hands. "That feels good."

Art let out a breathy laugh, making your heart swell. "Lean back against me, I want to try something."

You followed his instructions, your back meeting his toned chest, sinking into his embrace. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, making you sigh.

Carefully, he wrapped his arm around your collarbone, his left hand laying flat against the front of your shoulder while his right hand gripped the back of your bicep where your arm met your shoulder.

His hands were slow and gentle but still had you unwinding more with each movement. His left hand gently pushed your shoulder back as his right pushed your arm forward, earning another pop in your joints.

"Oh my god," you groaned under your breath, your hand subconsciously moving to grip his muscular forearm without realizing it.

"That's it, sweetheart," he cooed in your ear as you let out a sigh of relief. "Does that feel better?"

'So much better," you told him honestly, still holding onto his arm. Your eyes quickly fell down to it, an idea circling in your mind before your hand slowly began to move. He watched you carefully, his eyes following your freshly manicured hand moved to settle over his, before carefully moving his hand down your chest.

"But I think I'm still a little tense, Art," you breathed, biting your lip as his fingers ghosted over your hardened nipple before you moved it down further to your abdomen. His mind finally caught on to what you were trying to get at, a sly smirk cracking across his face.

"Could you help me?" you whispered, settling his hand on your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you wanted him most.

He didn't respond, his hand simply moving from underneath yours and allowing his fingers to slip underneath the waistband of your skimpy shorts, your breath hitching. He moved his free hand from your arm and down to your thigh, gently spreading them apart.

You felt him exhale a deep breath, before finally answering your request. "Of course. Anything to help my star player."

His fingers broke the barrier of your panties just as the words left his mouth, dipping into your soaked core without warning. You let out a moan as his lips pressed gentle kisses to your bare shoulder before moving up your neck and settling just below your ear.

His middle and ring fingers played at your clit, rubbing it gently before dipping back into you, curling his fingers inside of you sweetly.

A moan sounded from your plump lips, your head falling back on his shoulder. Your hand gripped his bicep as he continued to give you what you wanted, writhing in pleasure at his movements.

You could feel his hard-on press into your back as you sunk into his embrace, turning you on even more.

"How does that feel, baby?" he rasped, kissing your temple as he could feel you beginning to unravel on his fingers. "Is this what you wanted?"

You whimpered, biting your lip as you nodded your head. "Yes!"

As his fingers moved quickly inside of you, you felt his free hand wrap around your torso before moving up to your chest, his fingers ghosting over your hardened nipple.

"Please, Art," you whimpered, so close to your high. He took your words as a sign to keep going and allowed his fingers to fondle your breast, which sent you over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm-" you whined, your words caught dead in your throat as your orgasm washed over you, a defeated moan sounding from your chest.

He was mesmerized as he watched you, the way your head kicked back against his chest and you gripped his thigh as you came down from your climax. The pure ecstasy was seeping from you, and it drove him wild that he brought you to this state.

Carefully, he removed his fingers from your soaked core, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean. Your head snapped around to watch him, going feral at the way he reveled at the taste of you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

Your hands cupped the sides of his head, your fingers running through his blonde locks of hair. His eyes fell on your wet, plump lips before he smashed his own against them without warning.

A whine of approval sounded from the back of your throat, your body quickly crawling into his lap, straddling him as you sunk deeper into the kiss. His hands ran up the sides of your thighs before settling on the flesh of your ass, squeezing it as he held your core down against his hard-on.

His lips finally pulled away from yours, both of you out of breath as you met each other's gaze once again. He was quick to attack your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses all over your skin as he rocked your hips over his erection for any sort of release he could get.

Your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan to sound from his chest, which went straight to your core. You were growing impatient, pulling away from him in order to tug your tank top over your head. His eyes fell to your bare chest, a look of pure lust haunting them.

You quickly stood up from his lap to remove your shorts along with your underwear, giving him the opportunity to rid himself of his clothes as well. Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as his hard-on slapped against his lower stomach once he pulled his boxers off, his tip reddened and already leaking with precum.

"Come here, baby," he said soothingly, his hands pulling you back into his lap once more, your bare chest flush with his. Your faces were inches apart, your lips parted as you watched him reach between your bodies and grasp his cock, slowly giving it a few pumps before he aligned himself with your core.

You raised your hips a little, hovering over him to allow him to guide himself into you, a deep moan ripping from your chest when you finally sank down on him.

"Fuck," he groaned, the feeling of your wet core overriding his senses. You stretched around him so sweetly, taking him so well he couldn't help but moan.

Your hands settled comfortably on his shoulders, using them to help stabilize yourself as you began to rock your hips into a steady motion. You couldn't help but bite your lip, unable to keep your moans from falling out of your mouth.

He filled you to the brim, reaching a part of you deep inside that had never fully been satisfied. It made you ecstatic; you couldn't get enough of him.

"Fuck me, Art," you moaned, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck. "Fuck me hard."

He let out a shaky breath at your bluntness but obeyed you nonetheless. His hands gripped your hips roughly before he began a steady pace of fucking up into you, making you reel your head back in pleasure.

"Look at you, taking me so well," he moaned in between whimpers of pleasure, gripping your hips harder as he quickened his thrusts. You were a blubbering mess at this point, your head falling to the crook of his shoulder to muffle your cries.

His arm wrapped around your torso to keep you steady, his free hand moving to rake through your hair and pull your head back up to meet his gaze. He watched you intently as tears formed in your eyes, your orgasm not too far away.

"So pretty," he cooed, cupping your face. "All for me, right?"

"I'm yours, Art," you whimpered, clawing at his bicep as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. "All yours. Fuck, I'm close!"

Your moans were like music to his ears, sounding so melodic as your eyes fluttered shut in lust. With a few quick final thrusts, your second orgasm washed over you, making you writhe with pleasure as a nearly pornographic moan ripped from your chest.

He gripped your hips as he stilled his movements, his eyes intently watching you as your face contorted with your climax. He nearly came at the sight, letting out a shaky moan as you slumped back against him, completely fucked out.

"Fuck," you breathed, looking up at him as he panted heavily, a lazy smile on his face.

Suddenly, you remembered he hadn't come yet, and your body was already sliding off of him and sinking to your knees between his legs before you could even think otherwise.

"Wait, no you don't have to-" he assured you as he sat up, but you were already shushing him and taking him into your hand, gently pumping him as you gripped his thigh for leverage.

His eyes were blown out with lust as he watched you jerk him off, relaxing into your touch as a whimper escaped his throat. You looked so sexy sitting in between his legs, so eager to help him reach his climax. It didn't take long before he was letting out a guttural groan and painting your chest with his release.

His chest heaved up and down as he pulled himself back together, taking in your appearance before him. He never wanted to forget you like this; your face flushed and dewey with sweat from the orgasm he had just given you.

"Sorry, baby," he breathed, sitting up to grab your tank top and wipe you clean with it. You sent him a small smile, thankful for the gesture before you got back on the couch next to him and curled into his side. He grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch and laid it over the two of you, trying to make you as comfortable as possible.

The sudden realization that you had just fucked your tennis coach began to seep into your brain as you felt the warmth of his skin on yours, goosebumps running down your spine at the thought.

Fuck, this was going to make for an interesting practice tomorrow. . .

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!

criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader

i’d love any explicit smut 😋

ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀

hahaha sorry the brain rot is real

thank you if you do this!!

and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.

— warnings: established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!

— wc: 2018

⋆ a/n: WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!

masterlist | AO3

Aaron felt his eye twitch. 

His eye never twitches.

The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you. 

He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you. 

Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers? 

With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.

Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.

Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.

Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.

Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.

It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.

He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!

Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.

“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.

He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips. 

He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.

He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness. 

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”

“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”

“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”

Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?

“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure. 

“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”

He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction. 

Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.

Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision. 

His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.

“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.

The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.

“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”

Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.

“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?” 

“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants. 

With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.

Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.

Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening. 

The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.

“Move.” You grunted quietly. 

Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.

“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders. 

The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”

“Mhm! I can! I know I can!” 

“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?” 

His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.

A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.

“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”

“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”

What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.

“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”

Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.

That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?” 

To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.

“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.

Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.

“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.

Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.

You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.

“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.

“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”

“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.” 

You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.

“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”

“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.

“I want to lay like this for a minute.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[httpiastri]

control freak – ln4

lando hates a lot of things. not being in control is definitely one of them.

genre: smut

pairing: female reader x lando norris

warnings: smut 🤭 i dont remember what it's called? but lando gets tied up. he likes to be in control, so i guess dom!lando is kinda insinuated. it's a bit dirtyyy but there are also some soft elements bcs who would i be to not include those :)

requested?: yes! thank you for requesting 🤍 (requests are still open!)

author's note: this was supposed to be just a blurb but something happened lol. also, very much inspired by this ask and the just him talking about how he needs to be in control in that video. this thought has been living in my mind rent-free since that moment. hope u all enjoyyyy<3<3 (if this doesn’t work this time. idk what to do. anyways.)

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors dni!

–

"there we go..." you say, leaning back slightly and letting go of lando's wrist. "you alright?"

"my hands, yes. my ego, however..."

earlier this year, you and lando had agreed to buy one of those adult christmas calendars, one with a new toy or tool for the bedroom every day. so far, you'd gotten a blindfold, a massaging oil, and even a smaller vibrator. and today's present? a pair of sleek, white silk ribbons.

lando had immediately pulled the little strings out of the box, measuring them around your wrists. but you had shook your head, snatching them out of his hands and telling him it was his turn.

he had just cocked an eyebrow at you, assuming you were kidding. but the grin you had worn, one that told him that you were fully serious, had made him chuckle, rolling his eyes. no way, he'd told you, giving you a pat on the head before he leaned down against his pillow again. he had assumed this would be a lost cause for you, because there was no way he was letting you expose him to one of the things he hates.

lando hates a lot of things. number one: he hates not being in control, and he hates it so much.

the fact that he needs to be in control is very well-known in your relationship, and it applies to most situations. he needs to be the one driving, even if you're just going on a short trip to the supermarket; he needs to know who's invited to a dinner party so he can plan ahead; and of course, he feels a need for power in the bedroom.

but you are nothing if not persistent. lando is the very definition of stubborn, sure, but you would not give up on this one.

your boyfriend always thought you must be some kind of witch, because your effect on him is paranormal. the way you bat your eyes at him, your soft touch on his cheek, and your sweet kisses lingering on his lips – they could get him to agree to almost anything. even this, apparently.

since today was a friday, you had gone out for dinner and some drinks tonight before hurrying back home to try out your new present. lando was still a bit hesitant, but your lips pressed against his and your hips brushing his crotch as you sat on his lap on your bed made him give up yet again.

and that's how you find yourselves here, him already stripped out of everything except his boxers, with the sleek white ropes connecting him to the headboard. you twirl the fabric by his right wrist around your finger one final time, smiling at the little bows you've made. "you look so pretty right now," you hum, leaning down a little and tracing a finger along his jaw. "kinda wanna take a picture."

"do it."

you shake your head, not wanting to bring out your phone and possibly ruin the moment. you smile at the firmness in his voice, pressing a quick peck to his lips. "next time."

lando's chest vibrates with his chuckle. "oh, you think there will be a next time?"

"i know there will, because i'm in charge here."

the retort he was planning gets caught in his throat as your lips meet the side of his neck. he sighs at the feeling of your kisses traveling down to his chest, tongue coming out to lick the skin occasionally. he instinctively tries to grab your hips with his hands, momentarily forgetting about his restraints and letting out an annoyed groan when he's held back. you giggle against him when you hear the ropes snap against the headboard.

"already?" you ask, hands dragging up and down his beautifully tanned skin as your kisses trail even further, meeting the skin of his hipbones, giving both sides equal attention.

you can see how he clenches his fists from the corner of your eyes, knuckles already turning a little white. "i hate this. i really hate this," he mumbles.

"but you like me, don't you?" you counter, sitting back on your heels between his legs and letting your hands find the waistband of his boxers. "let me have my fun."

"great to know one of us is having fun, i guess." you take your time pulling down his underwear, enjoying every second of watching his impatience. when he's finally fully naked, his cock springs up to his stomach, a little precum leaking from him already.

"lando," you start, your thumb rubbing around the tip before spreading the precum along him. "don't you trust me?" you lower yourself down to press a kiss to his tip. "do you really think i won't make sure you enjoy this, too?"

his answer comes in the form of a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut when he feels your tongue lick up a stripe along the side of his dick.

"i thought so."

your lips wrap around him, pushing yourself down his length before moving back up again. you're excruciatingly slow, wet lips sliding along his skin and only taking a little of him as your tongue swirls around him just once.

number two: lando hates being teased.

it's something he avoids at all costs, which you learned early in your relationship. he'll give you a stern look and push your hand away when you reach for his thigh during a company dinner; he'll grab your hips to hold you still when you intentionally grind onto him as you sit in his lap; and when you text him revealing pictures when he's away doing something important, he'll turn off his phone rather than let it get to him. it all comes back to his hatred of not being in control – he wants to be the one to tease you, not the other way around. so when you get a chance to tease him and he can't do anything about it, you take it.

speeding up your actions is not something you even consider, and now that lando's hands aren't in your hair to usher you, you take your time. you do, however, push him further into you, letting him hit the back of your throat before pulling entirely off him. when you sink down on him again, he buckles his hips: his way of trying to retake control. your hands find his sides, holding him down as you slide off him, leaning back to look at him as a grin spreads across your lips. "impatient, are we?"

his eyes are scrunched up, head thrown back to show off his thick neck. his muscular chest is heaving for air, already, and his hands are still hanging sloppily from the ropes. you love to see him like this. so weak, so helpless. it's not often that you get to take in this sight, so you savor every second of it.

when he feels the bed rock, lando's eyes shoot open. he watches you climb up from the bed, standing right next to it as you slowly let the sleeves of your dress fall down your shoulders. he does not enjoy the moment as much as he wishes he would, because all he can think of is how much he wishes he was the one sliding the dress down your body; how much he wishes he was the one unclasping your bra; how much he wishes it was his hands dragging your soaked panties to the floor.

you move to straddle his lap, your hips hovering over his as you let his tip nudge your entrance. when you finally descend on him, he bottoms you out so perfectly. you press your hands to his chest, leaning your weight on him as you feel yourself getting stretched out.

if lando thought you were done with the teasing, he was very wrong. you rise from him painfully slowly, before going down just as slowly. when your hips meet his again, you stop for yet another moment, rolling down on him.

number three: lando hates not being able to control the pace.

he's used to driving cars at 300 km/h, for god's sake, so this slow motion-pace you're going at is not ideal for him. he doesn't always need to thrust in and out of you like you only have a minute left to live but regulating the pace is, according to him, one of the perks of being the boyfriend. but not today.

you find a rhythm, bouncing on him like you are in no hurry whatsoever. your lover's moans are muffled and he's seemingly doing his best to not let anything slip out. he doesn't want you to know how much he likes this, despite not being in control.

"don't hold back, baby," you say, thumbs stroking his skin encouragingly. "you're allowed to feel good even when i'm in charge."

and when he finally lets go, the sounds he makes are like music to your ears. his hearty groans send a shiver down your spine and you can't help but pick up the pace a little, needing to hear more. you want to pull every sound and twitch out of him, and if that means going faster, it's a change you're willing to make.

you feel the shudder passing through his body when you clench around him. you know he's close when his heels dig into the mattress and he thrusts into you, trying to make up for lost time. you're almost there, too, and the way you feel all of him pump into you turns your brain into mush.

your nails dig into his chest when you reach your climax, likely leaving indents in his skin. you continue riding him, helping him chase his high, your pulsating insides helping draw it out instantly. when you feel the spurts shooting into you, you collapse against him. he's twitching inside of you, his chest jumping with his breaths, and your fingers reach to brush along the side of his neck to help him come down from his high.

"okay, i'll admit," he starts, taking deep breaths between every word. "that was so fucking hot."

a giggle escapes past your lips, and you prop your chin up on his chest to look up at his face. "i knew it would be." you brush back his curls, freeing his glossy forehead. "thank you for trusting me."

his face is adorned by a soft smile, and it replicates on yours. "are you okay?" he asks, always so caring, and he lets out a breath when you nod.

number four, the most important one: lando hates being unable to hold you.

he hates not being in control of your well-being; he hates not being able to ensure you're okay. he hates not cupping your face in his palms, stroking your cheeks, pulling his fingers through your locks. so, it would be an understatement to say that he was ecstatic when you pulled yourself off him, sat down on his side and started working on undoing the ropes.

his skin shows off a burning red color, and it hasn't occurred to you yet how much he actually must've been itching to touch you. usually, when he ties you up, your skin gets a bit irritated too, sure. but it's not often this bad. "let me get you a lotion for your wrists," you say.

you're practically off the bed already when lando grabs your hand, dragging you onto him again. "later." he pulls your back to his chest and nuzzles his face into your hair, pressing a peck to your scalp. "just wanna hold you right now."

you shake your head at his antics, but take both of his hands into yours. you hold them up to your lips, giving him a few kisses around both of his wrists. "maybe that's better?"

"perfect." his voice is low, arms snaking around your waist to tug you closer. "i think they're completely fine now."

"let me at least get you something in the morning?"

"mmm. shush and sleep now."

and there it was, an order – back in control already. just like he should be.

[lizziee-olseen]

  First time

Wanda maximoff x fem reader

Word Count:2,061

Summary: When an old friend of your mother comes to visit you you don't like me at all but when you saw the beautiful red-haired woman those thoughts quickly disappeared

Warnings: Spanking, oral sex, rope ties, maybe corruption I don't know the truth tell me if I miss something :D

Note: English is not my mother tongue, so l apologize for any spelling mistake. It is also my first time publishing here so be kind I promise it will improve in the future T-T

You weren't happy when your mother told you that an old friend was going to stay with you, you appreciated the tranquility of the house since it was only the two of you and sometimes your other mother who came to visit you and who sometimes stayed for dinner if she stayed longer than expected but you were sure that she only did it to annoy your mother

You were an only child you didn't grow up with more children nearby if they weren't those at school, but you never invited them to your house since for you it was your sacred place, you didn't like them to invade those at the school that was yours

And it has been like that until your mother told you one day that her childhood friend was getting divorced and needed a place to clear her mind and relax, you were not nice at first you didn't want a stranger to live with you but after a few days you accepted it

You searched through your mother's things to find out who this supposed childhood friend was, it was not easy at first but after rummaging for a long time you found the old photos, without calculating that they were your age in the photo you smiled when you saw your mom hugging the woman, without a doubt you were impressed by her beauty, you wondered how it ended up divorced since the person undoubtedly must have been an idiot to leave a tremendous woman, after a while you put everything away and went to your room thinking about the woman Mysterious that she was going to move

The day came quickly, you saw the woman get out of a beautiful red car you laughed internally since it was almost the same as her hair, you came down from your room and went to say hello, your mother hugged her tightly and she also stayed a little behind waiting for their intimate moment to end, when they let go you saw how the woman stayed looking at you you felt a little uncomfortable since her gaze was intense and intimidating

"Oh honey, she's Wanda, the friend I told you was going to stay with us for a while," your mother commented happily as she brought you closer to greet Wanda

"When you leave" you didn't know why you had said, you didn't mean that, when you realized the words you had said you wanted to apologize immediately but the laughter he let out left you blank

"Wow, I see that you took out your other mother's attitude" you were frozen not knowing what to say fortunately your mother saved you

"Don't pay attention to her Wanda, and/it's a little difficult but I'm sure they'll get along amazing"

"I know we'll do it Agatha" Wanda says while winking at you quickly your cheeks blushed and the slight heating of this one bothered you

Both women laughed and went inside the house leaving you there alone processing what happened without a doubt it was going to be a difficult few months

──────•❥❥❥•──────

The first week flew by, you were careful you tried not to be in the same places as Wanda and it's not that you and your mother lived in a very big house they only had the first floor and on the second were the rooms next to the bathroom that was only yours but with Wanda here you have had to share it with her

The bathroom has been a big problem that right now you would like to just occupy the bathroom that Agatha has there in her room

Wanda has a big problem with not closing the lock when she bathes or occupies the first time you ran out slamming the door and the image of her silhouette that was shown on the screens was engraved in your head, at first you thought she was forgetful and that she was used to it since she was a married woman so you assumed that couples did not close the doors but then seeing her go out with her towel and wink you began to doubt that

The second time it happened it was worse since you were brushing your teeth and Wanda came in alone in a towel you were frozen not knowing what to do or say she just smiled at you and took off the towel leaving it in all its glory and then entered the shower, you quickly spit out the toothpaste and ran out to lock yourself in your room that day you didn't even go out to eat for your luck you always have sweets to eat

Since then you avoid Wanda as you can, you try to occupy your mother's bathroom just making an excuse that yours is being occupied with Wanda, it's time for dinner you invent a quick excuse saying that you are hungry just to go down when everyone is asleep and serve you a plate of food

In fact, right now you're warming up your food, it was already past 12:00, your mother was fast asleep and you assumed that Wanda too, I wish you had noticed the reddish monster that she wasn't happy with your attitude, I wish you hadn't gone down to eat that night

You decided to make yourself a dessert with apples so you were cutting one, you were so focused that you didn't notice the person who was surrounding you, until a body pushed you slightly into the kitchen cabinet

"That does a sweet thing cutting with a sharp knife" you were frozen not knowing what to do it took you a while to react

"I just want to eat apple" you spoke quickly Wanda denied and gently took the knife out of your hand

"You shouldn't do it alone, a delicate thing shouldn't have something so sharp in its hands" she began to cut while she still had you trapped against the furniture

"I'm not a little girl" you claimed a serious mistake from you and your big mouth

"I see that you still have that attitude, maybe I should punish you for being insolent with older people" Wanda laughed bitterly and then left the knife aside, you wondered what was going through the older woman's head but it didn't take you long to think since Wanda in a quick movement pulled down your pants leaving you alone in your pink panties baby

"Wanda, what are you doing?" you said while trying to get closer to your pants that were on your feet

"Shhh calm down just let me do what I have to do" she tried to calm you down but seeing that your hands just wanted to recover your pants she sighed "little one you leave me no choice but to tie you up"

Wanda waved her hand and a soft pink fabric appeared. She quickly tied your hands and legs leaving you motionless. Your heart was beating a thousand. You didn't know whether to scream for your mother to come down or just let the woman get away with it.

"Calm down I promise you'll like it, you just need to shut up or you would like your mother to see how her best friend gets away with her with her little daughter" you quickly shook your head the idea alone makes you vomit "I knew you were good at listening, now my question is how many spankings do you think is right for you" you stayed for a while thinking about an answer to give her

"Maybe 20 sounds good" she laughed her hands moved everywhere in your body

"If 20 sounds like a good number for your first punishment, count for me but not so strong little one we don't want your mother to discover us"

The first spanking was delicate it almost didn't hurt it was a soft blow you wondered if all the punishment was going to be that easy but how wrong you were, the next blows came more rudely you were almost sure it wasn't 20 spankings since after the 13th your mind only focused on how your ass started to hurt and how your pussy started to get wet

"Look what a dirty girl, I knew you weren't as innocent as you showed yourself" Wanda was fascinated with how red your ass was, she was only supposed to come to challenge you for eating so late but your little attitude that you gave her the first day was engraved in her mind, she had found her little doll to break and corrupt to her liking

Her trip was supposed to be only temporary she was going to enjoy her loneliness and learn to be alone, her divorce was not easy for Wanda in fact she didn't want to separate from him but things got complicated and she couldn't anymore

But you were refreshing, someone new full of innocence and purity you were the light that Wanda needed in this darkness and I didn't plan to miss this opportunity for any reason

"Look at your princess parts, I'm sure you feel uncomfortable down there" you didn't know if I had to answer but you did

"It feels sticky Wanda" she carefully lowered your panties without disturbing your reddish ass your pussy was dripping it was a divine image

She carefully brought a finger closer to your swollen clitoris you jumped a little because of her touch in your area but as fast as the movement was she moved away "tell me little one have you ever touched yourself down there"

"No, I've never done it" Wanda smiled to herself without realizing it, it only made Wanda's desire grow more in her and she wanted to make you hers forever

"Well then I'll be careful, I promise to take care of you" before putting her fingers on you she carefully untied the ties that tied you leaving you free, she grabbed you carefully making you lift your ass to leave your dripping pussy visible

Wanda thought to herself that it would be good for you, for your first time, without thinking much about things she bent down and ran her tongue through your folds you jumped at first because of the sensation but then without realizing it your hips grinded in her face

Wanda was delicate at first her movements had you hypnotized, she sucked your cloud gently and then did it again with force, you had to cover your mouth since you couldn't stand the noises

You could only hear the noises of Wanda eating you, her mouth was talented and her tongue had hypnotized you your cloud was fascinated with the circular movements that they were giving her without a doubt Wanda was a great expert in this

You felt a tingling in your stomach it was a delicious sensation until you thought you were going to urinate so you tried to move Wanda's face away from your pussy, she instead bit you something hard but not painful

"Wait Wanda, I think I'm going to pee" you tried to convince the woman to get out of there

"Don't worry, that's what it feels like to have an orgasm" Wanda reassured you, she went back to doing her thing until she guided one of her fingers and began to massage you

The tingling increased you tried to hold it a little but you couldn't, you had your first orgasm in your kitchen and it was delicious your body twisted because of the pleasure you were having, your flows increased Wanda quickly licked everything as if her life depended on her, when there was nothing left she walked away without kissing you there she went up your panties and then your pajama pants

She turned you delicately and kissed you, it was a slow and delicate kiss she guided you in everything since you didn't know how to kiss

"I knew you were a delight now go to your room and ah don't skip your meals again or I won't have to punish you again understood" you just nodded, you quickly ran out of there not without first giving Wanda a quick kiss and you went to your room thinking about what happened without a doubt it was a good idea that your mother had invited Wanda.

[cupidhoons]

📷 PHOTOBOOTH KISSES — PSH

in which . . . you and your boyfriend have your first kiss together — psh x f! reader ୨୧ highschool! au wc 895 ・ w kissing (derr), slightly suggestive? idk + likes n' feedback are greatly appreciated !

A/N 💌 hello cupids !! i'm slowly trying to get motivation to start writing more often and be on blr more so here's a revised and updated version of my old fic !! i hope u guys enjoy hehe :P my perm taglist is also open!

“LOOK, HOON! LET’S GO TO THE PHOTO BOOTH!” you exclaim, a bright smile lighting up your face as you gently tug on his arm.

It was your first official date as boyfriend and girlfriend—a simple but perfect day spent together, wandering through shops and vendors, laughing as you spotted matching trinkets and playful souvenirs. Sunghoon had insisted on paying for everything, flashing his card every time you picked up something even remotely interesting.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter each time he did; there was something so sweet about how attentive he was, how eager he seemed to make this day special for you.

But even as he focused on making you smile, Sunghoon’s mind kept drifting back to a single thought: kissing you.

You’d shared quick, playful pecks before, and he’d felt his pulse quicken each time, wondering what it would be like to truly kiss you, to feel the warmth of your lips against his for more than just a second. But he held himself back, not wanting to push, unsure if you were ready. And yet, every time his gaze fell to your lips, he felt that ache—a soft, lingering desire, wondering if you felt the same.

As you look up at him now, eyes sparkling with excitement and cheeks flushed from the chill in the air, he can’t help but lose himself in the sight of you.

“Sure,” he says, returning your smile with a slightly shy grin, “I’ll pay again, though.” He reaches for your hand, fingers threading through yours as he leads you to the booth. The warmth of his hand in yours sends a thrill up your spine, and as he pulls the curtain aside for you, you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“What poses should we do?” you ask, glancing at yourself in the mirror, fixing a stray strand of hair.

“Anything you want, babe,” he murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from you as you tilt your head, smiling up at him with that easy, affectionate grin that’s becoming his favorite sight.

You both begin snapping photos—first a goofy face, then a sweet one with your hands cupping each other’s cheeks. With each flash, you feel yourselves getting more comfortable, more playful, laughing between shots as you both find reasons to hold each other a little closer.

But when the last slot comes up, you realize you’ve run out of ideas.

“Hoon! We need one more! But I’m out of ideas…” You pout, looking up at him with those big, expectant eyes, and Sunghoon feels his heart beat faster, the familiar desire stirring in his chest again. It feels like the perfect moment, and the countdown has already started. He swallows, glancing down at your lips as he makes up his mind.

Three… two…

Without another thought, he leans in, closing the distance and pressing his lips softly against yours. It’s gentle at first, a tentative touch, as if he’s testing the waters, but the warmth of your lips ignites something in him. His hand finds your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss.

Your eyes widen briefly in surprise, but soon, your arms slide around his neck, pulling him in even closer as you melt into him, savoring the sweetness of his kiss.

When he finally pulls back, his cheeks are flushed, and he’s slightly out of breath, a shy but proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I… I’m sorry,” he stammers, eyes searching yours. “I couldn’t help myself. I’ve just… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you reach up, brushing your fingers against his jaw. “Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “I liked it, Hoon. I’ve been wanting to kiss you too… just too shy to make the first move.”

His face softens, a tender smile spreading across his lips as he dips his forehead to rest against yours, his hands still lingering on your waist. “Guess we don’t have to worry about being shy anymore, do we?” he whispers, his voice warm and gentle.

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze, but as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin so tenderly, you find yourself leaning into his touch, your heart racing in your chest.

After a moment, he tilts his head, eyes lingering on your lips, the question clear in his gaze. Without needing to say a word, he leans in once more, capturing your lips in another kiss—this time slower, sweeter, as if he wants to savor every second. You can feel the smile on his lips as he pulls you closer, and you let yourself sink into him, feeling completely at home in his arms.

When he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, a quiet intensity in his eyes that makes your heart skip. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing small circles against your back.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you as you tighten your hold around him. “Good,” you whisper, looking up at him with a playful sparkle in your eyes. “Because I don’t think I’ll let you.”

He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hands pulling you impossibly closer. "Deal."

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae since u said u would be willing to do an ED reader here's a lil idea for James or tasm Peter but them with a gf who had a really bad ED before they met (he doesn't know) and she starts to relapse and he thinks she's just too stressed to eat or something (idk u can pick how the topic comes up) and just her telling him and him comforting her (this is a bit self indulgent bc idk how to tell anyone I'm dating that I'm struggling)

Hi lovely, thank you for your request!

cw: discussion and depiction of eating disorder, anxiety

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 916 words

You don’t seem much up for talking at dinnertime. Which is fine. James can talk for the both of you. 

He prattles on about Sirius’ one-way rivalry with the temp at his work while you cast him half-hearted, flickering smiles and push your food around your plate. He’s made sesame tofu, a first for James but he thought it turned out all right. His plate is clean, whereas yours is all mixed up but he’s fairly sure you’ve only eaten a couple of green beans. 

You don’t appear to notice when he finishes his story. Your fork seems almost limp in your hand. 

“If you don’t like it,” James says lightly, “I don’t mind making you something else, lovely.” 

You look surprised, then guilty. “No, sorry, it’s good.” 

It’s not like you would know, but James isn’t cruel enough to point that out. Aside from his own ego, he has other reasons to suspect his cooking has little to do with this. 

You’ve been strung up tight, lately. There’s a lot going on at work, some conflict with your boss you don’t really want to talk about, and drama in your family you want to talk about even less. James has tried to make home as comfortable and easy for you as he can, but understandably you’ve grown withdrawn, seemingly exhausted all day long. He wishes he knew how to do more for you. Wishes he could cast a bubble of pure goodness to put you inside so the only things that could get to you were the lovely things you deserve. 

“I know you’re stressed,” he says, gently as he can, “but you’ve got to eat, you know? It’s probably cold by now, you could have something else if it’s easier.” 

Something painful twinges in your expression. James reaches for your hand on instinct. 

“I get that you’ve got a lot going on, angel. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but we could.” 

You sigh. “No, it’s…I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking, Jamie.” 

James frowns, but forces himself to stay quiet. He has the familiar sense that all he’s doing is putting his foot in his mouth. 

After a minute, you say quietly, eyes lingering to the side of your plate, “I haven’t always been able to eat properly. It’s been…I’m a lot better about it than I used to be, but it’s still difficult sometimes. Like now.” 

Your hand feels tensed inside of James’. His heart has begun to ache lowly. James thinks he knows the term for what you’re trying to tell him, but he’s not about to lob it at you now, not if it could only make you feel worse. He tries comforting you the surest way he can think of, smoothing his thumb along the side of your hand. 

It at least seems to relax you enough to say more. “You’re not too far off, I guess, because it is sometimes worse when I’m anxious.” You glance up at him tentatively, an attempt at a smile on your lips. “Food’s just a bit more difficult for me right now.” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up like that,” says James, earnestness aching in the back of his throat.

You lift a shoulder. “How could you have known? Sorry I haven’t been eating your cooking.” 

“That’s not your fault, sweetheart.” Your gaze flees his again. Guilt and shame quiet James’ voice. “I’m sorry, I thought you were only stressed.” 

You give a little laugh. “I guess I am stressed.” 

“Yeah, and for good reason, but…can I hug you?” 

You nod, and James gets out of his chair, bending awkwardly to get his arms around you. Your fingertips press into the muscles of his shoulders. 

“It’s not quite so simple as stress, though, is it?” he murmurs into your shirt. 

He feels your chest contract with a sigh. “No,” you admit. 

“What can I do to help?” 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Jamie.”

“Not accuse you of not liking my cooking, though, surely.” 

Another little laugh, this one seemingly more genuine. “Yeah, that would help a bit, actually.” 

James worries about smothering you, backs up enough to see your face. His hands want to go there, too, one for each cheek. 

“Please tell me if you think of anything,” he says. You don’t agree but don’t look away from him either, which James figures is about as good as he’s going to get. “Would it be any easier if we ate in front of the telly?” 

You chew your lip. “It might, yeah. I’m not sure.” 

“You don’t have to make any promises,” he assures you, taking up your plate and bringing it into the kitchen. “Do you want me to reheat this for you? Or we could have something else?” 

You linger at the edge of the kitchen, fingers bundled up in your sleeves. “I’d like to try to finish that, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it’s okay, m’love. More than okay.” James presses some buttons on the microwave, then turns to you, requisitioning you for another hug. He kisses your hair. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Your voice is soft. “Thank you for listening.”

He scoffs, squeezing you around the middle so that you squeal. “You make it sound like a chore. Don’t be so ridiculous.” James presses another kiss to your hair before releasing you. “Go find something good for us to watch, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”

[mischievousmoony]

Omg I love ur James fics. You think you could do one where reader finally feels comfortable getting drunk while going out with their group because she knows James is there to take care of her. Ur drunk reader x James interactions are too cute. I feel like I always have a hard time letting go cause I’m afraid I’ll need to take care of my other friends haha. Love your work!

thank u love! i have fun writing them, i just know james would be so caring! ps thank you for being patient ik this request came in a while ago

𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍

⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (i think that’s it but lmk if i missed any pls)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"But what if Sirius tries to get a new tattoo again?" you ask, twisting back and forth with a steady squeak, squeak, squeak of your barstool.

James clasps his hand on your shoulder, turning you one last time to face him. "Remus is watching him."

"What if Marlene tries to go on another one of her adventures?"

Marlene has a knack for getting herself into precarious situations when she gets drunk, which she likes to call her “little adventures.” Usually, this means going home with a stranger, whether it’s for a hookup or to steal their lightbulbs because they looked at her wrong.

"Lily’s got her.”

"What if I do something stupid?" you ask, now swinging your legs. The nerves eating away at you just won’t let you sit still.

James puts his other hand on your knee, soothing you with a gentle squeeze. "I'm watching you," he says. After thinking it over for a moment, he adds, “And I don't think you'll do anything stupid. Even if you do, I'll do something more stupid so that nobody notices."

This earns him a giggle from you, and he’s happy to see you smiling. He picks up your glass, which is now covered in beads of water, plenty of time having passed for condensation to run its course. He dries what he can with a napkin because he knows you hate when the droplets land in your lap.

You once asked him why it happened, even though you knew the answer. He simply told you it was science.

“Science is stupid,” you had said, eyes fixating on several small spots of water soaking into your jeans.

Now, James wraps your glasses with napkins. He holds out your drink, a black napkin enveloped around it, as he asks, “You want to do this, right?”

You peek into the glass and watch the dwindling ice cubes swirl around in a vodka cran; a drink that James had called “beginner friendly.”

“Yeah,” you answer shyly.

James frowns. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”

You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over. A part of you wants to forget it, but another part of you knows you’d be disappointed in yourself for chickening out again.

You wrap your hand around the glass, cringing at the squish of the soggy napkin beneath your fingertips. You don’t know what’s worse: this feeling or the water dripping all over you. But James’ attempts to help make you feel warm inside, so you don’t complain.

“No, I still want to do this.”

“Then I’m here for you. Promise.” James gives your knee another squeeze.

You cast a look toward your friends. For years, you've nominated yourself as the designated driver. Or you've claimed to have early morning obligations. You've always felt better knowing someone sober was around to deliver plenty of water and carb-rich snacks to your incapacitated friends.

That was your excuse, anyway. Not that it isn't one of your concerns, but truthfully, something about drinking makes you feel uneasy. You always knew your friends were safe because you've been there, ready to hold back anyone's hair or stray them away from bad decisions. If you drank too, how could you be sure your friends would have someone to depend on? How could you be sure you would have someone to depend on?

Then, you started dating James, and you found a level of trust you never knew was possible. You know you can depend on him for anything.

When you admitted to him why you never drink when you go out, he swore up and down that he would be there for you.

Remembering his promise summons a wave of courage. You shoot James a nervous smile, and take your first sip, scrunching your nose as it burns your tongue.

"This is kind of gross."

James barks a laugh, "We can try to find something you'd like better next round. That is, if you decide to have another."

Feeling brave, you do have another. That's when you discovered something called the Cosmic Lemon Fizz; a drink that sparkles with edible glitter and manages to be blue, green, and yellow all at once. You laughed when you saw it, not knowing how in for it you were.

"Jamie!" you exclaim after taking a sip of your third Cosmic Lemon Fizz. "This tastes like happy feels!" you gasp as if the thought had just occurred to you, despite this being the fourth time you tell him.

"I bet it does!" James cheers. His eyes wrinkle in the corners as he beams at you.

"You should try one!" you declare, and immediately try to flag over the bartender.

James smoothly takes your hand, stopping you as he says, "No can do. Made a promise to a pretty girl that I wouldn't have a drop tonight."

You whip your head around. "Who!?" you ask, eyes wide.

"Who do you think, pretty girl," he says, poking you in the side.

Giggles escape you and you swat his hand away. He doesn't go far, lifting his arm to brush some stray hairs out of your face. His hand lingers on the side of your face, soothing the pad of his thumb against your cheek.

You lean into his touch, gazing up at him with an affectionate glaze in your eyes; a look that gives him butterflies.

"Wowww," you say dreamily. "You're handsome."

James feels his heart flip in his chest. "Thank you, love," he says, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Hey," Sirius says, appearing out of nowhere as he lazily throws an arm over your shoulders, "How's it going over here?"

While you're distracted with Sirius, James waves over the bartender and replaces your drink with water. The next time you reach for your glass, you hesitate.

"Where's my cosmo magic fizzy thingy?" you ask, an eyebrow raised as you glance at James.

"You must've finished it," he shrugs, acting clueless.

"That's like the oldest trick in the book. You replaced it with water and now you're trying to be sneaky!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," James feigns innocence.

You giggle, bringing the straw to your lips. "I knew you'd take care of me. I love you," you say, happily sipping your water.

James feels another eye-wrinkling smile break out on his face. "I love you too, pretty girl."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.3k (teaser); 8.2k (full fic)

release date: april 27th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: decided to write a little surprise fic!! ive been getting into bts lately and so this was born<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

...

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