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aemondsbabe · 1 year ago

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Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

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“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym.

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being.

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present.

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches.

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back.

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure.

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back.

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder.

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor.

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk.

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache.

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum.

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?”

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do.

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done.

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind.

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes.

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always.

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so.

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end.

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face.

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances.

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost.

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone.

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay.

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.”

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.”

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to.

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own.

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush.

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface.

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee.

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?”

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll.

“Will you?”

“Not for you!”

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses.

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt.

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?”

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?”

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours.

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing.

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again.

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder.

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder.

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?”

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence.

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin.

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back.

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym.

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice.

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.”

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach.

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers.

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel.

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump.

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner.

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch.

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this.

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours.

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest.

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him.

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would.

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist.

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee.

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge.

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible.

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck.

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up.

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place.

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.”

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain.

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot.

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#my writing #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #dacre montgomery #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut

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5sospenguinqueen · 21 days ago

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Please, Please, Please | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: What do you do when your ex-girlfriend moves on with another guy? Become needy and pathetic. But, when the guy brings you to tears, Max knows it's his time to save you from further heartbreak.

Warnings: barry keogan (i couldn't find any other men with her that worked), swearing, toxic relationships, pathetic max

Requested: yes by many of you on the previous part

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (she was used on the last one and yes, she's used a lot but I stole her song and her job so I'm also stealing her face)

F1 Masterlist

prev. || next.

part 4 will be the last part so it may seem a bit rushed but i didn’t plan anything else. sorry! these just seem to be getting worse as well, so i’m also sorry about that

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maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by danielricciardo, liamlawson30 and others

maxverstappen1 a good effort from the team to start on the front row tomorrow 💪 let’s keep pushing tomorrow 🇺🇸

6,633 comments

user1 twitter is claiming that max and kelly broke up

user2 okay but i actually can’t function until i know if max is free from kelly once more

user3 max please tell us if you and kelly have broken up

user4 i need max and kelly to be done forever this time

user5 is it true that you broke up with kelly?

→ maxverstappen1 yes. now can we focus on the race

→ user6 @/yn_ln this means you can give him another chance

→ user7 why would she want to after he ran back to kelly

(comments have been limited)

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yn_ln just posted

liked by mclaren, actorbf and others

yn_ln surprise! if you have any questions, you can refer to my new single please, please, please 💋

13,850 comments

user8 the two of them are so cute

jennaortega i’ll give you all the kisses

→ user9 i wouldn’t. not with all the men she goes through

→ oscarpiastri whoa now, there’s no need for that

user10 don’t get me wrong. i’m loving all the new music. but my heart can’t handle all the new layers to this drama

landonorris okay, little miss hollywood. that music video just proved you’d never do well in a film

→ yn_ln oi, i act better than you do, mr hilton

→ hilton we’d be happy to have you both

user11 ew, so she went from a hot motorsport driver to a subpar actor?

user12 wait, what? this wasn’t supposed to happen. she’s gone off script. max is single now, they were meant to be getting back together

→ user13 she’s not his back-up plan. plus she’s way out of his league

user14 don’t you think you might be putting strain on her new relationship? i doubt her new guy likes to see everyone preferring the old guy

→ user15 hopefully that means he’ll leave and we can get her and max back

user16 has anyone checked on max?

(comments have been turned off)

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, verstappencom and others

yn_ln how to lose a cake in 10 minutes

16,334 comments

alexandrasaintmleux the most beautiful birthday girl

→ francisca.cgomes this dress is going to live rent free in my head

→ yn_ln thank you for letting me show you both twenty different dresses

→ alexandrasaintmleux just wish you were taller so we could steal some of them

→ yn_ln can’t believe you’d do this to me on the day of my birth

→ oscarpiastri technically your birthday is tomorrow. this was just your birthday party

→ yn_ln thin fucking ice, piastri

user1 guys guys guys. verstappencom liked this. i repeat verstappencom liked this

→ user2 okay but that’s not max

→ user1 but it’s an advocate for max so

landonorris dicaprio wouldn’t want you anyway. you’re too short

→ yn_ln i’ll make my boyfriend fight you

→ landonorris i’m not scared of your polly pocket boyfriend

→ mclaren you can’t say stuff like this publicly, lan

→ user3 i swear none of them actually like her boyfriend

→ user4 showing their support for max. he’s the only person who matches her beauty

user5 no but the hand in the dress is somehow cute and hot

→ user6 not with that guy. it should be max

redbullracing happy birthday to our favourite popstar

replies

user7 what do you mean she had to pay for her own birthday meal on her birthday because her boyfriend wouldn’t

→ user8 not even wouldn’t but flat out refused

→ user9 streets are saying it’s because he’s broke. not exactly like he’s raking in the job offers

user10 so this man is lucky enough to get a chance with THE y/n l/n, then he refuses to pay for her dinner, and then he yells at her?? all on her birthday???

→ user11 he’s punching above his weight and clearly that angers him

→ user12 especially with the way she looked in that yellow sparkly dress today

user13 someone clearly isn’t very smart. she writes a song for him - the first one she’s written recently that isn’t about max - and he does exactly what the song asks him not to do

→ user14 how dare he try to embarrass our queen by yelling at her in front of so many people

→ user15 i’m starting to question if our girl does have good judgement. how could two men do this to her?

→ user16 definitely doesn’t have good taste

user17 the audacity to yell at her in a restaurant of people, and then continue to do so after you were asked to leave because you were yelling at her

user18 and if i said i saw max verstappen pass them in the street, stop and turn, and start defending her, then what?

→ user18 he was literally yelling at this man whilst holding a crying y/n behind him, and rubbing her arm soothingly

→ user19 we’d say you’re full of shit and have no tangible proof

→ user20 this could be true because he was hanging out with charles and some of the drivers. and i just know alex sm got on the phone to her boyf and begged him to send the love of y/n’s life to save her

→ user19 pics or it didn’t happen

maxverstappen1 posted a new story yn_ln posted a new story

landonorris replied to maxverstappen1 i recognise the birthday girl's dress

landonorris replied to yn_ln who’s the 3rd person 👀 → wait why wasn’t I invited

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open

tag list

@omgsuperstarg @seonghwaexile @evie-119 @alejandrablacklupin @nina-or-anna-or-nora @shelbyteller @raynetargaryan2 @astroniii @raizelchrysanderoctavius @azuramicah @seasonswinter @chaoswithus @casey1-2007 @chemiru @strengthandstay @ivanag1rl@anayaverse @formulaal @ellelabelle @yara011 @callsignwidow @freyathehuntress @floweringlee @isagrace22 @sunny44 @lottalove4evelyn @danielshoe @paucubarsisimp @monacosprince @stereading @hoeforsirius @anilovessadbooks @armystay89 @cassofheartsss

sorry if i missed anyone. it wouldn't let me tag some of y'all

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starkwlkr · 3 months ago

Text

girl, so confusing part ii | f1

an: thanks for all the love and support on part 1! here’s part 2 💋 THIS IS AN AU WHERE ALL THE F1 DILFS ARE SINGLE

part 1 part 3

faceclaim: gisele bündchen

DINNER WITH MARK

“How is my girl?” Mark asked as he placed his beer on the table after taking a sip.

“She’s good. She passed her math test and her recital is coming up so she’s very excited for that.” Y/n replied. She always loved talking about her daughter, Gemma.

“Will you let me know when it is? I want to make sure I’m free that day.” Mark said.

“Sure, she’ll love that you’re there.” The former driver reached into her purse and pulled out her lipgloss. It had been the same brand and scent from the same day she had kissed Mark in her garage, Mark took notice of that. She began applying it easily using her front camera as a mirror.

“You and your cherry lipgloss.” Mark chuckled.

“I don’t see you complaining whenever these lips give you kisses.” Y/n smirked, placing the tube of lipgloss back in her purse.

“They are the best kisses I’ve ever had.” Mark told her.

“Funny, Jenson and Seb told me the same thing.”

“Such a comedian,” Mark playfully rolled his eyes at her response. “What are you doing tomorrow? Let me take you and Gem out. She mentioned she wanted to go roller skating.”

“Sorry, Mark, Jenson is coming over. Gemma wants to bake him a cake for his birthday. You’re welcome to join us, Gem and Jenson won’t mind.” Y/n apologized. It had been weeks since Gemma saw Jenson and she missed him dearly.

Mark shook his head, not wanting to interfere between Gemma and Jenson. “It’s alright. Just let me know when her recital is.”

“Yeah . . .” Y/n noticed how quiet Mark had gotten so she leaned over the table and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. As she sat back down in her chair, a text message from a blonde German had appeared on her phone screen.

Sebastian

When can I see you and Gemma again?

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #jenson button x reader #f1 driver!reader

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xo100 · 6 months ago

Text

Unwrapped feelings - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: At their birthday celebration, you feel upset when none of the gifts are for you. Lando reassures her of his love, making her feel cherished despite the oversight.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1494

୨ৎ

Lando Norris was the sun in her life, a constant, warm presence that filled her days with joy. She loved him deeply, and after three years of dating, her heart still fluttered when he looked at her the way he did. They were each other's best friends, sharing everything from their quiet nights at home to the busy life he led as a Formula 1 driver. Lando loved her, too. There was no question about that. He made sure to remind her with every touch, every soft kiss, and every whispered word when they were alone. But no matter how much love existed between them, there was a silent, looming cloud that she tried so hard not to notice. His friends.

They never liked her, and she couldn’t quite understand why. She wasn’t arrogant or boastful. In fact, she was quite the opposite—introverted, sweet, and often quiet, especially around large groups. She wasn't overly outgoing or dramatic, and she certainly wasn’t trying to steal Lando away from his friends. But still, whenever they were together with his friends or the rest of the team, she could feel their subtle distance. The sideways glances when she spoke, the quick change of conversation when she joined a group—it all added up.

It wasn’t as though she had never tried to bridge the gap, either. Early in their relationship, she had gone out of her way to be friendly, to make conversation, and to show interest in their lives. But the more she tried, the more it felt like she was only getting further away from them. Over time, she stopped trying so hard, and she retreated back into the quiet comfort of just being by Lando’s side. After all, he was the one she loved. As long as they were okay, nothing else should matter, right?

But it did. Even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it hurt that the people closest to Lando—the ones he spent so much of his life with—didn’t seem to care for her. And that quiet hurt always seemed to linger at the back of her mind.

This weekend, however, was supposed to be special. A day for both of them, a moment to celebrate not only Lando’s birthday but hers as well. The idea to celebrate their birthdays together was something Lando had insisted on. They were only a few days apart, and since Lando had such a busy schedule, he suggested one big party where they could celebrate together. He even offered to host it at the McLaren Technology Centre, a place he called home and wanted to share with her.

“Everyone will be there,” he had said, his excitement bubbling over. “My friends, the team, some of the drivers. It'll be great!”

She had nodded with a smile, her heart hopeful that maybe this would be a chance to connect with everyone on a different level, in a more relaxed and festive atmosphere. Her own friends, though invited, couldn’t make the trip to England, and while she understood, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit lonely knowing she wouldn’t have her usual support system there. Still, this was about Lando too, and she wanted to focus on making sure he had the best time.

The night of the party had been a whirlwind. Lando was glowing, his energy infectious as he mingled with everyone, laughing and sharing stories. She stayed by his side for most of the night, smiling softly at his friends and the team members who came over to greet him, though she noticed the conversations were always directed toward him and never her. It stung, but she pushed the feelings aside. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

After hours of laughter, music, and food, the party wound down, and as the guests began to leave, Lando took her hand, guiding her toward a large table piled high with presents.

“Look at all this,” he grinned, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight. “I think we’re going to need all day tomorrow to open them.”

She chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. There were a lot of gifts, far more than she had expected. She didn’t think either of them would need much, but it was still heartwarming to see how much effort people had put into celebrating them.

Or so she thought.

The next day, after a lazy morning spent in bed, they finally sat down to open the gifts. Lando was practically buzzing with excitement, while she was content to sit beside him, happy to enjoy the moment with him.

The first few presents were exactly what she had expected—personalized items for Lando. Some McLaren-themed memorabilia, a few playful gag gifts from his friends, and even a sleek, custom helmet from one of the drivers. She watched with a soft smile as he unwrapped each one, his grin widening with every thoughtful present.

But as more and more gifts were opened, a realization slowly started to creep in. Every single present was for Lando.

She tried not to let it bother her at first. After all, Lando was the one who had more friends here, the one with the larger circle. It made sense that most of the gifts would be for him. But as the pile grew smaller and not a single gift was addressed to her, the hurt became harder to ignore.

There wasn’t a single present for her.

Not one.

By the time they reached the last box, she felt her heart sink. She had tried to stay positive, tried to convince herself that maybe someone had forgotten to label a gift, or maybe they’d gotten mixed up in the rush of the party. But no. Every gift had been intentionally for Lando, and her name hadn’t even been a second thought.

“Wow,” Lando breathed as he looked at the collection of gifts surrounding them. “That was… that was a lot.”

She nodded quietly, trying to keep her smile in place. Her hands fiddled with the ribbon from one of the opened boxes, trying to distract herself from the growing ache in her chest.

“Hey,” Lando said softly, noticing her quietness. “You okay?”

She glanced up at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. She could see how much he cared, how much he genuinely wanted to make sure she was happy. It wasn’t his fault that his friends had overlooked her. It wasn’t his fault that she felt so out of place among them.

“Yeah,” she whispered, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just… happy for you. You got so many cool things.”

He frowned, clearly not convinced by her answer. “But you didn’t get anything.”

Her stomach twisted, and she hated that she was the one bringing down the mood. “It’s okay, Lando. Really. Today was for both of us, but I know how important you are to them. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, and he could tell. His brows furrowed as he scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, lifting her chin so she would look at him. “It’s not fine if you’re upset. You’re important too. To me.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn’t want to cry, not over something as silly as gifts. But the hurt wasn’t just about the presents. It was about everything—the way his friends never really accepted her, the way she always felt like an outsider in his world.

“I just…” She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I just feel like they don’t see me. Like I don’t belong here. I know I’m not outgoing or loud or… like them. But I try, and it never seems like it’s enough.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. But I promise, you do belong. You belong with me.”

His words were warm and comforting, but they didn’t erase the ache entirely. Still, being in his arms made her feel a little better. She rested her head against his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re the most important person to me,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “And if my friends can’t see how amazing you are, then that’s their loss. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for him. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even when the world around them felt like it was crumbling.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The gifts, the party, the friends—they all faded into the background as Lando held her close, reminding her that she was loved. And in that moment, that was enough.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it. If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

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thoughtfulfiction · 3 months ago

Text

Shift in the Routine II

Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Hope this one gives you all the feels. Joe requests are open!

masterlist

“Can you just…tell me exactly what happened?From the beginning.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face, thinking about the various ups and downs you’d been through emotionally the last few days. “There’s nothing new to tell, I told him I need to think about things and he was supportive of that. He really hurt me Rach, I can’t just—forget about it and move on.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. It’s just,” she pauses, trying to find the words. “What about—”

“The game on Monday night? Under no circumstances am I watching that,” you promise her, crossing your arms in protest of what was expected of you.

“Bengals defense missing a tackle? Likely place for them to be. This game is going to give me an ulcer.” You slammed your drink on the table, putting your head in your hands in hopes that they’d get a stop if you looked away for a bit.

Rachel watched silently, still trying to understand the rules of this football thing. She found you more entertaining than the game most of the time.

“Oh my god, how many times are we going to go for it on fourth and short and not convert?” This season had been full of trying moments, forcing you think back on the few times you snuck in to catch a peak of what Joe was seeing on film when these things would happen.

“FACEMASK?” You yell. “There’s no way in the world they just miss that? Hello? They’re literally trying to rip his head off, that should’ve been a first dow—wait,” you pause, standing up out of your seat for the first time in a few hours. “Is he…is he limping? He’s limping, right?”

Rachel sits up, joining in your concern but also slightly amused at the situation, considering the fact that you said you weren’t going to watch the game and the two of you had been glued to the tv before kickoff. “No matter how much you don’t want to admit it to anyone, including yourself, you still care about him. A lot.”

“I do care,” you swallowed, feeling like your heart was in your stomach at the thought of being in pain. That sleeve didn’t look like it was going to protect anything. “Maybe I care a little too much? Which is exactly why I’m in this predicament. Because let’s be real, on paper? We do not make sense. He doesn’t even flinch spending $3 million and I cry a little if I add too many things to my Amazon cart.”

Rachel laughs, tossing a few pieces of Chex mix into her mouth. “That’s because your job is stingy with raises. And with Joe? Just talk to him. Go see him tomorrow, give him his gift and go from there, see how you feel about everything.”

You admired her ability to put a positive spin on a situation that you felt was pretty much doomed. Maybe you could have one more day of happiness with him tomorrow before walking away for good. That may be your best bet, to just cut all communication and quit cold turkey. After his birthday of course. Dumping someone before their birthday just sounded really terrible and you’d spent a long time getting him this special present so there was no way you weren’t going to see the look on his face in person as he opened it.

The drive felt uncomfortably long. They had gotten a much needed win and he seemed happy enough postgame. But what if he didn’t want to see you? You’d been so focused inward on your feelings and what you needed to do that you really hadn’t had the time to even wonder what Joe’s thought process was. Just in case he wasn’t in the mood for company, you knocked on the door instead of letting yourself in.

Clad in a purple Nike hoodie you remembered borrowing a few times, there he stood in front of you with a blank look on his face.

Solid start.

“Why did you knock? You could’ve just come in.” His hair looks extra fluffy, like he woke up not too long ago, taking it extremely easy after coming home late and taking quite a few hits in last night’s game.

You pushed down the nerves, determined to make today neither awkward nor painful for all parties involved. “Happy birthday. I brought your favorite smoothie from Rune and…did a package come in this morning?”

He thanks you, grabbing the drink out of your hand and closing the door behind you. You can tell he’s moving gingerly. “Yeah I had them put it in the garage. So…are we still—”

“In relationship limbo? Definitely. But today is your day and I’m not a monster,” you joke as a smile forms on his face. And I wanted to see you for myself to make sure you weren’t going to lie. How’s your knee?”

Joe looks at you affectionately, almost visibly resisting the urge to reach out to you. His first instinct was always to give you a comforting squeeze or a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance, he just wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate given the circumstances.“Careful, it almost sounded like you were worried about me for a second there.”

“I do not care about you. I care about my favorite football team’s starting quarterback and his well being for the rest of the season. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.” You were lying through your teeth and both of you knew it.

He nods slightly, catching you looking at his leg or any sign of pain in his face if he so much as leaned over the counter. And if you still had a soft spot for him somewhere in there that was enough. “I feel ok. It’s sore but it’s Tuesday and the day after games is always touch and go. You know that.”

You quickly learned just how exhausting some postgame days were. His body bruised easily so sometimes he looked like he’d honestly been in a fight of some kind. And lost…badly. Moving around was slow and painful as if he were closer to being put in a retirement home than he was to playing another bruising game the next week. But the next day was usually back to normal and you were always in awe at his ability to bounce back. Having everything laid out in front of you like this made it easy to understand why he had such a strict schedule. Eating and sleeping and everything in between were catered to help him recover.

“Are you ready to open your gift?”

Joe sighs, stating that he doesn’t need more presents but you give him a look and he knows it’s best to just follow you to the garage. “I didn’t realize how big this is,” he notes, a hint of apprehension in his voice, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He runs his fingers along the top of wrapping, deep in thought for a few seconds before you urge him to open it. Carefully peeling back the paper, Joe pulls back the layers to reveal a one of a kind Seinfeld painting.

“Before you say anything, look at the back,” you tell him when he looks at you like he’s about to open his mouth. On the back is a handwritten note from Jerry Seinfeld himself. Joe’s jaw actually drops and he’s rendered speechless, silently rereading the words over and over. “It goes great with the pants, that I somehow knew you’d be wearing today. How predictable.”

He shrugs and looks down at the well worn blue pants, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “What can I say?”

“That you’re a millionaire who’s also a serial outfit repeater? What would Anna Wintour say if she could see you now?”

“She’d probably say that I pull off the lazy look very well,” he retorts with a laugh. Looking back at the painting and then at you, Joe feels a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how you got this but he’s sure it took a long time and you went to great lengths to make it possible, to make him happy. “Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly not trusting his voice.

You find yourself in his arms before you even register that your body has moved, clinging onto him like your life depends on it. Part of you wanted to stay, be in this moment and let yourself fall back into the routine of a grueling season with the person who clearly brought you an immense joy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Joe was your peace, your picnic on a sunny day and it was scary to see how easily the two of you hadn’t missed a beat, teasing each other and talking like lifelong friends who could read each other like a book. The thing that was breaking your heart the most is that Joe had become your best friend, the one you could talk to about any and everything while simultaneously making your heart beat out of your chest at the effortless romance that came from this playful and unexpected connection.

But was that really enough? When you gave his body one more squeeze before stepping back, Joe couldn’t help the awful thought going through his mind that this could be the last hug. Not wanting to tear himself away from the embrace, he awkwardly and very hesitantly lets you go, standing alone in the garage after you wish him happy birthday again and leave. All that progress he’s thought the two of you had just made was out the door and he was stuck with the coolest gift he’d ever received and a sense of emptiness inside him that only you could fill.

The next day in the facility he was locked in. Focused solely on football from the moment he walked in, went through walkthrough as he tried to avoid the Hard Knocks crew and conducted his weekly press conference like it was another day. Only after he got in the car did he allow himself to really acknowledge that he was missing you. Yesterday was supposed to have helped and it did, but it also just made him realize that life was just better with you around and he couldn’t keep letting you walk away.

He’d admittedly been quiet last night at dinner with his parents and when they asked if he was okay he just told them that the season was weighing on him a bit, not exactly ready to divulge the fact that he was seeing someone and had potentially ruined it all in the same breath. That may result in too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. So he scheduled time to speak with the one person he could always turn to for guidance and perspective.

And 24 hours later, as soon as he walked in the door, he set his stuff down and went upstairs to his room for an emergency Zoom meeting with his therapist. After the session was over and he had a moment to think, he pondered his therapist’s words urging him to think about one defining moment that encapsulates your relationship to guide him in his next steps.

The two of you had finished eating dinner during the bye week on the couch. Sushi boxes were discarded on the table as you forced him to watch some cooking show. You slid your feet under his leg, desperately searching for warmth in places where the blanket just wasn’t enough.

“Your feet cold again?” You nod. “Babe, you might have circulation issues or something, should probably get that checked out,” he grins, lifting himself up so he can grab your legs and put them in his lap. His touch instantly brings heat to your limbs, shooing away the frigid air and replacing it with a soft glow that you’re pretty sure has surrounded you since you and Joe made things official.

Once you’ve warmed up enough you cross over to the other side of the couch to wrap yourself up in him, as close as you possibly can. Nights like this feel like his own little peace of heaven, your arm resting casually on his chest and your bodies practically glued to each other, becoming one simultaneous heartbeat. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, laying there in complete bliss, all of worries about football, the team and their season out the window for a bit. The weight of carrying a franchise is easily lifted when you’re around, keeping his feet on the ground in times when he would have his head in the clouds. For one second everything makes sense and it’s perfect…until it hits him square in the chest.

He’s in love.

Joe comes back to himself, snapping out of that bye week memory wiping a tear that he hadn’t realize was coming down his face. His heart tightens at recognizing why he’d lashed out at you and said those horrible things. It wasn’t football stress at all. It was fear driving him, he reverted back to the person he was trying to work on. And instead of being honest, he’d built an emotional wall around himself disguised as work stress to keep himself from saying those three words at a time he thought could be too soon for the two of you and scare you off. Because it was definitely terrifying him, even if he felt it. And now he may have lost you as a result of his actions.

On Friday, he actually looked forward to enjoy the off day, after he got his morning workout in at the facility. And then you texted him to tell him you were walking into the house.

You looked nervous and he didn’t like it. “Is this a bad time?” He shakes his head no, unsure if he wants to do this right now. The quarterback was really regretting coming home right about now. Being at the stadium watching the guys play golf would’ve been a much faster but still painful death. This was just torture.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot. And,” you take in a deep breath, hoping that filling your lungs with lots of air can make what you have to say a bit easier.

Joe pales, thinking that you’ve put off breaking up with him because of his birthday. He wants to brace himself for impact. He should respect your wishes, whether he agrees or not, but you both know he isn’t one to go down without a fight. “Before you dump me, I just—I have to tell you how sorry I am. You bulldozed through my life like freight train with your royalty jokes and your horrible day and I knew I needed more. Wanted to know everything about you. But I’m not great at this. Emotions aren’t easy to talk about and I usually pride myself on not showing them and you’ve brought them out of me. So when things got a little too real, I shut down. You’re one of the greatest things in my life but I really messed it up.”

“Joe…” you say quietly, begging the tears not to come.

He stops you, “if I don’t get this out, I might not get another chance. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t want to be around you when the truth is that sometimes it’s all I want. You mentioned schedules and—and routines. Nowhere in my plans did it include falling for someone this soon and I pushed you away because I was scared, not because you’re a distraction but because—being with you makes me have to admit that the things I feel for you aren’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m sorry I hurt you in the midst of realizing that.”

You look at him, trying to memorize every one of his features. The natural bags under his eyes are a bit more pronounced, a slight glimmer in his ocean eyes give away all of the emotions written on his face. He looks devastated, a look all too familiar to you since you and the entire country have seen him look dejected and defeated several times throughout the season. But there’s something more distressing hidden behind his gaze. An indescribable amount of worry etched across his features.

Joe looks…heartbroken.

The honesty and raw intensity of his words are almost enough to render you speechless, but you came here for a reason.

You clear your throat before you speak, biting back your own emotions. “Joseph I’m not breaking up with you. Believe me, I wanted to and I thought about all the reasons why maybe I should. Because I don’t think I’m built for this life,” you look down at your feet, heaving out another breath before looking up at him and holding out your hand for him to hold.

“None of this is easy and sometimes, yeah I doubt myself. And you are very moody for like half the year. But there’s nowhere else I want to be and no one else I’d rather be with. Through the honeymoon phase or 60 years from now when when we’re senile and yelling at each other about the tv remote. Mostly me yelling you staring angrily but—as long as we’re together, I really don’t care. What I’m saying is…I don’t want easy. I want you.”

The tension in his shoulders is released almost immediately. “So you’re saying you’re stuck with me?” He laughs, a sense of relief taking over him. “And you aren’t just saying that because you haven’t had Boca in almost two weeks, right?”

“Your ability to get me their Maple Mascarpone Cheesecake whenever I want is not the main reason why I love you. That’s just one of many.”

You take a second to realize what you just said, opening and closing your mouth a few times but no words are coming out.

Joe’s smiling so big his face is starting to hurt. “You just said you love me.”

Tilting your head to look at him, laughing a little. You can’t believe you let it slip out like that. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Say it again,” he says softly, squeezing your hand and taking a few steps toward you.

You shake your head, one of your hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him in.

The man’s breath hitches as he melts into your touch, the kiss slowly putting him back together, free from all the anxious energy he’d put aside as a defense mechanism. “Joseph, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The sound of your words radiate against his lips, sending a never ending shiver down his spine.

"I love you too,” he utters with such sweetness you feel like your heart is exploding. “And I missed you.”

He leans in and pours two weeks of apologies and love into the kiss and after all this time of not being close to him, you never want to let him go again. You eventually do separate, only because you need air, and giggle at the fact that you actually still haven’t let each other go. With your fingers intertwined, you lead him upstairs. “Do you need help packing?” Joe steals another quick peck, whispering yes because he’s not letting you out of his sight until it’s time for him to leave tomorrow.

None of this was part of the plan but now that your soul has found its match, you really don’t have a choice but to dive in.

#Joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic

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meleeyz · 4 months ago

Text

୭ 𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧 𝗣𝗢𝗪𝗗𝗘𝗥 ˚. ᵎᵎ

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ God, Wyeth and Violet are my precious babies, I'm excited to write the next chapter 😼 THIS IS A BIT OF ANGST BUT I PROMISE I WILL MAKE UP FOR IT, THE NEXT CHAPTER COMES OUT TOMORROW 😓

୨୧ THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT, IT MEANS A LOT TO ME

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Ekko stepped out of The Last Drop alongside you, his mind a tangled mess of emotions he didn’t know how to untangle.

“See you tomorrow, Silco,” you called over your shoulder, waving at the man. “And tell Vander not to forget the balloons this time. It’s Violet’s party, after all!”

Silco chuckled, his sharp features softened by a surprising warmth.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t disappoint. Powder would never let me hear the end of it.”

Ekko opened his mouth to comment on the absurdity of those words—Silco and birthday parties didn’t belong in the same sentence—but before he could speak, you grabbed Wyeth’s hand, ready to lead him down the street, and before Ekko could even process what he’d just witnessed, his son slipped his small fingers into his free hand.

“Let’s go, Dad!” Wyeth said with a grin, swinging their joined hands as they walked.

The simple gesture made Ekko’s chest tighten. It felt so normal. So… good. And yet, it brought a pang of sadness that he couldn’t shake. How much had he missed? The thought gnawed at him.

Wyeth glanced up, his expression turning sly.

“You think Mom will forget I’m grounded if I say she’s pretty?”

Your laughter drifted back toward them as you approached a street vendor, completely oblivious to your son’s plotting.

Ekko didn’t respond. He barely heard the boy’s words, his mind too busy grappling with the strange reality around him. Wyeth looked so grown, his bright smile and curious eyes a reminder of everything Ekko had never gotten to see. He’d been there for Wyeth’s first steps, first words, first everything… hadn’t he?

“Dad?”

Wyeth’s voice snapped Ekko out of his thoughts. The boy tilted his head again, mirroring the gesture that so often punctuated your own confusion.

“Why’re you looking at me like that? I didn’t even do anything yet.”

A sheepish laugh escaped Ekko.

“Nothing, kiddo. Just thinking.”

Wyeth raised a brow, unimpressed by the weak excuse, but before he could press further, his attention shifted.

“Mom! Aunt Powder’s place is up there!” he shouted.

Ekko followed his gaze, his stomach tightening at the sight of the towering structure ahead. The entrance was unmistakably Powder’s handiwork—vivid, colorful, and chaotically creative.

Your arm slipped through Ekko’s as you stepped closer to him, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. The gesture was effortless, familiar, and it sent an odd pang through him. It wasn’t just something you would’ve done in his world—it was something you had done countless times before.

Powder’s hideout loomed closer, and the knot in Ekko’s stomach tightened. Memories of his childhood flooded his mind—Powder laughing as she tinkered with one of her bombs, her face lighting up when she succeeded. But those memories felt so far away, belonging to someone who no longer existed.

“Aunt Powder!” Wyeth called, his voice echoing through the space as he dashed ahead.

Powder sat on the floor, her back turned to them. She was hunched over something, her shoulders swaying slightly. Ekko froze in the doorway, his feet unwilling to take another step.

She turned slowly, and Ekko’s breath caught. In her arms was a baby.

The child couldn’t have been older than a year, her curly white hair catching the light. Her skin was a shade darker than Wyeth’s, but her eyes—Ekko’s heart skipped a beat—her eyes were undeniably yours.

He stared, dumbfounded. It was as if the Ekko of this world had decided to create smaller versions of himself just for the hell of it.

“Powder!” You hurried past Ekko, reaching for the baby. Powder smiled and handed her over without hesitation.

“There’s my little Violet,” you cooed, lifting the baby into the air before kissing her cheek. Violet giggled, her chubby hands patting your face with affection.

Ekko barely registered the interaction, his focus drawn to a small shrine tucked away in the corner of the room. It was simple but striking—candles flickered in a soft circle of light, surrounding scattered trinkets and flowers.

His stomach dropped when he saw the pictures.

Vi’s pictures.

There was no mistaking her sharp features, her trademark smirk immortalized. The realization hit Ekko like a freight train.

He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought a world so perfect could still hold such grief. The weight of it settled on him, twisting his heart in ways he couldn’t describe.

“Dad?” Wyeth’s small voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. The boy’s wide eyes were filled with concern as he tugged on Ekko’s sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

You turned at the question, your gaze sharpening when you saw Ekko’s expression.

“Wyeth, why don’t you go play for a bit?” you said gently, brushing a hand over his hair.

The boy frowned.

“But I—”

“Please,” you said, your tone soft but firm.

Wyeth hesitated, then sighed dramatically before go.

Ekko's breath coming shallow as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. Little Violet, with her bright eyes and curly white hair, cooed in your arms as you rocked her gently. You gave Ekko a pointed look and gestured to the spot beside you on the worn couch. Ekko moved mechanically, lowering himself onto the worn cushion, his legs feeling like lead.

His voice broke the silence, hoarse and uncertain.

“She’s... dead?”

Powder, seated besides from him, shifted uncomfortably, her face tightening.

“That’s not funny, Ekko.”

He turned to her sharply, his old friend—his childhood companion—now a stranger and yet not. His voice dropped, heavy with accusation.

“Was it you?”

Your head snapped up, your expression a mix of surprise and frustration.

“Ekko!”

Powder’s eyes darkened and her voice rising.

“It was you,” she spat. “You gave the tip. We went to that job because of you.”

The air in the room grew heavy as Powder’s words sank in. Ekko’s breath caught in his throat. His memories of another life swirled with the knowledge that here, in this version of the world, everything was twisted. His hands trembled as realization hit him. The raid on Jayce’s workshop... That was where Vi—this Violet—died. That was why there was no Hextech here, why this world felt so fragmented.

“I think you should go before I say something I’ll regret,” Powder said quietly, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

Ekko stood, the sudden movement making Violet stir in your arms. He didn’t look at you, Powder, or the baby. His body moved automatically, his legs carrying him toward the door.

“I’m working on it,” he mumbled, though the words felt hollow even to him.

You called after him, your voice sharp with concern, but he kept walking.

“Dad?” Wyeth’s voice called out from nearby, concern lacing his tone. Ekko didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled and chaotic to register anything else.

You watched Ekko leave, your jaw tightening in frustration. The strange behavior, the short temper—it was too much. You handed Violet to Powder, murmuring softly.

“Hold her for a second, please.”

Powder’s expression softened slightly as she took the baby, hugging her carefully though her gaze lingered on you in concern. You followed him out.

“Ekko!” you called sharply. He didn’t turn, but you grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop and face you. His expression was tense, his eyes darting everywhere but to you.

“What the hell is going on with you?” you demanded, your tone low but fiery. “You’ve been acting weird all day. You know what tomorrow is—it’s our daughter’s birthday. You’re not going to ruin this over something stupid.”

That word—daughter—caught him off guard, sparking the storm of confusion inside him all over again. His mind rebelled against the warmth in your voice, the certainty in your words. How could you say it so easily, so naturally, as if everything about this world made sense?

He shook his head, his voice rising in frustration.

“I’m not ruining anything. I just—”

You didn’t let him finish.

“Powder didn’t do anything to you. If you’re tired, fine, but you owe her an apology. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Ekko swallowed hard, his throat dry. The words escaped before he could stop them.

“I’m not even sure those are really my children!”

The moment the sentence left his lips, he froze.

The look on your face was enough to make him wish he could disappear. Anger flashed in your eyes, but beneath it, he saw the hurt—the disbelief. He didn’t mean it like that.

God, he didn’t mean it.

“What did you just say?”

“I—” he stammered, the words tangled in his throat. “I didn’t... that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Ekko?” you demanded, your voice tight with controlled fury.

He wanted to tell you the truth. That he wasn’t your Ekko, that the children weren’t technically his, that he didn’t even belong in this world. But he couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come, and the weight of what he couldn’t say crushed him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your jaw tightening as your anger simmered. Finally, you took a deep breath and stepped back.

“Go for a walk and cool off.”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked back toward Powder’s hideout.

Ekko stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where you had disappeared. The weight of everything—this world, its expectations, the people who had unknowingly tied themselves to him—pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“Great job, idiot,” he muttered bitterly to himself.

The streets around him blurred, the laughter and light of this version of Zaun clashing against the turmoil in his mind. He felt like a stranger in his own life, and no amount of sunshine or clean air could change that.

But as he stood there alone, one thought refused to leave him:

He just hurt the people who mattered most in this world.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You re-enter the cave with silent steps, the cool air brushing against your skin as you wrap your arms around yourself. Your chest feels tight, the pain blooming there sharper than any gunshot wound. You bite down hard on the urge to cry, swallowing it like bitter medicine.

When you reach Vi's sanctuary, Powder is holding Violet in her arms. She turns to look at you, and whatever she sees in your face makes her pause. Her expression softens, though it doesn’t lose the edge of mischief. She lets out an exaggerated sigh, the kind meant to ease tension and distract.

"Well, look who’s back," she says, forcing a smile that stretches a little too wide. “Guess what, Mama? Aunt Powder got new crayons!” Her voice takes on a sing-song lilt, as if a few minutes ago her old friend hadn’t accused her of being the cause of her own sister death.

Before you can say anything, Wyeth is at her side in an instant, his excitement bubbling over. Powder laughs and hand him the crayons, vibrant sticks of color in every hue.

“Take your little sister and draw something pretty. Something cool for Aunt Pow-pow.” she says with a wink.

Wyeth nods eagerly, leaning in to kiss Violet on the head. He scoops her up with the care of a child trying to prove just how grown-up he is and carries her to the makeshift tent Powder had set up—a cozy hideout of blankets, pillows, and soft light. Violet’s soft babbling carries over as Wyeth settles her down, and began instructing Violet on how they’d make the “best drawing ever.”

Powder straightens, brushing imaginary dust off, and finally looks at you fully. Her smile falters just a little.

“Alright,” she says, “spill. What’s up with your husband?”

You shake your head, frustration and confusion vying for dominance.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice strained. “He was fine this morning, and now… now, I don’t even know who I was talking to back there.”

Powder watches you closely, her blue eyes narrowing slightly before she lets out a small sigh.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said to him...”

You wave her off, sinking onto the small couch and resting your face in your hand.

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” Your voice is muffled, tired.

Silence settles between the two of you, heavy but not suffocating, just long enough for the tension to ebb. Powder leans back, her usual energy subdued but still present in the way her hands fidget with the edge of her shirt. Then, without a word, she drops something into your lap.

You look down and pick it up—a sketch, delicate lines drawn with an artist’s touch. It’s a design for a baby dress. The fabric in the sketch flows softly, a pastel green shade that feels gentle and light. Little embroidered fireflies dot the hem, their wings detailed with tiny lines of imagined thread. Flowers bloom along the neckline, subtle and sweet, and the sleeves are puffed ever so slightly, adding a playful charm. The waist is cinched with a sash, and a small bow ties neatly in the back, making it utterly perfect for a little one’s birthday.

You trace the design with your fingertips, your heart softening despite the ache still lingering. Ekko was just upset, you think. He didn’t really believe that those babies weren’t his, did he? Hell, they’re his spitting image. Violet has his nose, his hair, his everything, down to the small furrow of concentration she gets when she’s focused.

Powder’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

“What do you think?” she asks, her tone light.

You glance up at her with a faint smile.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, the words more heartfelt than you expect.

Powder waves it off like it’s nothing.

“Please,” she says, smirking. “That’s nothing. I’ve got like eight more gifts saved up for the princess.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound breaking through some of the tension still clinging to you. Powder grins back, the energy in her expression more genuine now.

For a moment, the pain in your chest feels just a little easier to bear.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @xelzaria @honeyfewr @bubblegupyy @iwasholic @chaeisbroke @emforjin @itszazouu @kriss-w @moonlight-dreamer04 @iloveavatar

#ekko x reader #arcane x reader #arcane season two #arcane ekko x reader #ekko fluff #dad!ekko

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purplereina11 · 5 days ago

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Apart of Perfect Shot Series You go on a night out with the Barcelona girls and end up back at Alexia's where you make up.. Finally! Enjoy the fluff

The nightclub is alive with music and flashing lights, bodies pressed close on the dance floor, laughter mixing with loud beats. You're out with Carla, your closest friend, and a group of players from Barcelona—Patri, Mapi, Ingrid, and Aitana—who insisted you needed a distraction. They've convinced you to join them in hopes of taking your mind off Alexia, the one person who has consumed your thoughts lately.

You try desperately to lose yourself in the moment, smiling wider, laughing louder, drinking faster. But you're not accustomed to drinking like this. Each sip is another attempt to quiet the ache that settled in your chest since things fell apart between you and Alexia. Soon, the warmth of alcohol floods your veins, and reality begins to blur.

Carla glances at you with a worried expression. "Are you alright?" she asks gently, her voice barely audible over the music.

You nod lazily, but your head feels heavy, your limbs unfamiliar. Suddenly, the room spins violently, and you grip Carla’s arm for support.

"Woah, okay," Carla says firmly, steadying you. "I think you've had enough."

The other players notice quickly. Patri looks concerned, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We should get you home. Where do you live?"

You blink, the answer lost somewhere deep within your foggy mind. You shake your head helplessly. Carla sighs in frustration, realising she doesn't know your new address either.

Mapi frowns. "Does anyone here know how to get her home?"

There's a pause—everyone exchanging uneasy glances—before Carla reluctantly pulls out her phone. You can barely register the quiet conversation that follows, but you catch one unmistakable word: "Alexia."

Anxiety swirls in your stomach alongside nausea. The thought of Alexia coming to your rescue now, after days of silence and tension, fills you with both relief and dread. You hadn’t reached out since Carla’s birthday party the week prior and neither had you, both clearly too stubborn to reach out first.

When Alexia arrives, it's impossible not to sense the shift in energy. She stands quietly at the edge of your group, chatting to everyone bar you, it seems her teammates and more specifically Carla were defending themselves. Like Alexia was blaming them for your state. Her eyes began searching until you let yours find hers. Her expression, usually so composed, flickers between worry and hesitation. You feel shame bloom hotly in your chest, embarrassed to have her see you like this.

She moves forward, offering Carla a quiet nod of gratitude when she moves aside, then gently takes your arm. "Come on," she whispers softly, guiding you toward the exit. Her touch is familiar, steady, and somehow heartbreaking.

The drive to her apartment is painfully silent. You want to speak, apologise, say something—anything—to break the awkwardness, but your head pounds and words fail you. Alexia occasionally glances over, worry etching deeper lines into her face each time. All you could do was close your eyes and tell yourself to not vomit in Alexia’s car.

She helps you into her apartment, every step new territory you’d not been here before, she would come to your apartment over inviting you to hers, yours was more conveniently located. She carefully removes your jacket, sets your shoes neatly aside, and guides you gently to sit on the edge of her bed. Her hands are tender, deliberate, as if she's handling something fragile.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, the words heavy on your tongue, laced with genuine regret.

"Shh," Alexia soothes softly. "We’ll talk tomorrow. Just rest now."

But rest proves elusive.

The room is spinning, but at least it’s not as violent as before. You're lying back against the pillows in Alexia’s bed, the familiar scent of her laundry detergent surrounding you. It’s strangely comforting. Or maybe it’s just her. She’s sitting beside you, her presence grounding you even in your drunken haze.

You turn your head lazily toward her and squint. “You’re so pretty,” you mumble, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Alexia raises an amused brow but doesn’t interrupt.

You keep going, oblivious to any sense of shame. “Like… unfairly pretty. Like… if I was a judge, I’d make a law that you’re not allowed to just walk around looking like that without a warning sign. ‘Danger: Too Pretty.’”

Alexia chuckles, shaking her head as she watches you. “Oh yeah?” she humours you. “And what would this warning sign look like?”

You take this question very seriously, staring at the ceiling in deep concentration. “Hmm. Maybe… like a giant blinking neon sign that follows you everywhere. So people know. Or maybe a siren. Like a cute one. A ‘Beware: Alexia’ siren.”

She laughs quietly, tilting her head as she watches you ramble. “Sounds very practical.”

You nod solemnly. “Mhm. Gotta protect the public. People could get injured tripping over themselves when they see you. I mean, I almost died the first time I saw you.”

Alexia's smile softens, something flickering in her eyes. “You did not almost die.”

“Yes, I did,” you insist, dramatically clutching at your chest. “You were there. I literally gasped. My heart almost stopped. I was like, ‘Wow. That’s the most beautiful woman in the world.’ And now look at me.” You gesture weakly at yourself. “Drunk. In your bed. Pathetic.”

She bites her lip, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You’re not pathetic.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you feel bad for me,” you pout.

Alexia lets out an exaggerated sigh. “No, I’m saying that because you’re ridiculous. And drunk”

“Am I?” you ask, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before you force them back open. “Or am I just a tragic poet, drowning in my feelings and the consequences of my poor decision-making?”

Alexia chuckles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your forehead. “Definitely the second one.”

You sigh dramatically. “I knew it.” A moment of silence passes, the air between you warm and almost nostalgic. Then, in a much softer voice, you murmur, “I missed you, you know.”

The humour in Alexia’s face falters slightly, something unreadable replacing it. Her fingers pause where they were absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. “I missed you too,” she says eventually, her voice quieter now. She rose to stand to leave you to finally go to sleep, but you just had to keep talking.

“You know,” you slur, flopping onto her mattress dramatically, arms sprawled out like a starfish, “I always thought if I ever got to be in your bed, it’d be for a much sexier reason.” The first time you end up in Alexia Putellas’ bed, it is not in the way you would have imagined, nor is it remotely romantic. In fact, it is tragic, messy, and—to your drunken brain—both incredibly funny and unfair.

Alexia, standing at the edge of the bed with her arms crossed, lets out a long, suffering sigh. “This is not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny,” you argue, rolling onto your side with what you hope is a seductive smirk but probably looks more like a grimace. “You could have had me any way you wanted, but nope. Here I am, drunk and tragic, and you’re stuck being my babysitter.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath in Catalan. You think it might be a prayer for patience. “I am not ‘stuck’ with you,” she says finally. “I just didn’t trust you to make it home without getting lost or throwing up in a taxi.”

“Wow.” You clutch your chest dramatically. “The romance. I can feel the love radiating from you, truly.”

She glares at you. “Do you want me to throw you back into the street?”

You gasp, scandalised. “Alexia! How dare you? This is the part where you tenderly care for me and realise you’ve never stopped loving me.” You hadn’t realised you dropped the L bomb, you and Alexia had discussed your feelings, you knew you both cared for each other. Insanely attracted to the other but never went that deep.

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, is that what’s supposed to happen?”

“Yes,” you declare. “And then, in the morning, we have a heartfelt conversation, and you admit you can’t live without me, and we dramatically kiss in the doorway.”

“Do you also throw up on me in this scenario?”

You pause. “Well. I’d prefer not to, but I can’t make any promises.” You hiccup.

She exhales through her nose and shakes her head. “Go to sleep.”

“But I’m not even that drunk,” you argue, even though the room is still spinning slightly and your limbs feel like they belong to someone else.

Alexia levels you with a look. “You just tried to take off your socks"

"And?"

"You weren’t wearing any.”

“… Okay, that was one time.”

She sighs, but there’s a tiny hint of amusement in her eyes as she gently pushes you back onto the bed, pulling the blanket up over you. “Close your eyes,” she instructs.

You obey, but only for a second before you peek one eye open. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that? I like that in the bedroom by the way”

Alexia lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “And you’re impossible.”

You grin, half-asleep already. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

She doesn’t answer, just watches as your drunken babbling finally quiets and your breathing evens out. But if you were still awake, you might have caught the way her lips twitch upward slightly, the way she tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before finally settling into the space beside you in the bed, ready to watch over you for the rest of the night.

Throughout the night, waves of sickness crash over you. Each time you stumble to the bathroom, Alexia follows quietly, never complaining, gently holding back your hair, rubbing circles on your back, and whispering reassuring words. Her calm presence is grounding, comforting, a painful reminder of what you nearly lost.

She never leaves your side, not even for a moment, her eyes heavy with exhaustion yet alert and gentle. Hours stretch endlessly into the night. Eventually, the nausea subsides, replaced by profound exhaustion and embarrassment.

As dawn begins to paint the sky in muted colours, Alexia offers you a fresh glass of water. Her voice is quiet, almost vulnerable, when she finally speaks. "You scared me tonight," she admits, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you.

Your eyes meet hers, and your heart twists with guilt. "I’m sorry," you whisper again, more sincerely this time, feeling tears build behind your eyes. "I shouldn't have—"

“Hey," she interrupts softly, placing a gentle hand on yours. "I'm just glad you're okay. That's what matters most."

You nod slowly, unable to break away from her gaze. There's so much you want to say—so much you should say—but exhaustion pulls heavily at your eyelids.

"Get some sleep," Alexia whispers gently. "We'll have plenty of time to talk when you're feeling better."

As your eyes drift closed, you feel her fingers gently brushing your hair back, and you realise something profound: despite all that has happened, despite the silence and misunderstandings, Alexia is still here, still caring, still the one person who can make you feel truly safe.

And for tonight, that's all that matters.

You wake up slowly, consciousness returning in painful waves. The harsh glare of morning sun floods through Alexia’s bedroom window, stabbing sharply behind your eyes. You groan softly, pressing your palm against your forehead, desperate to soothe the throbbing ache that pulses through your skull.

The memories of the previous night come flooding back in disjointed pieces—Carla’s worried expression, the blurred lights of the nightclub, the gentle yet heartbreaking way Alexia took care of you. Embarrassment churns in your stomach, mixing uncomfortably with the lingering nausea from your hangover.

Slowly, you try to sit up, your head protesting sharply. A small noise escapes your lips, and within moments, Alexia appears in the doorway, concern written clearly on her exhausted face. Dark circles underline her usually bright eyes; it’s clear she hasn’t slept at all.

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly, stepping into the room and sitting gently on the edge of the bed. Her voice is cautious, like she’s afraid any loud sound might break you apart.

“Terrible,” you admit, your voice hoarse and weak. You can't meet her eyes, too ashamed of the state she found you in. “Alexia, I'm really sorry about last night. You shouldn’t have had to—”

She stops you gently, placing a reassuring hand on yours. “Don’t apologise again. Please. I’m glad you called—well, that Carla called me. You could have been seriously hurt if they'd tried to take you home themselves.”

A heavy silence stretches between you. There are so many unspoken words floating between you things you both need to say but are afraid to voice. You glance down at your intertwined hands, finding comfort in the familiar touch, warmth radiating from her palm.

“I didn’t mean for things to end up like this,” you whisper finally, vulnerability clear in your tone.

Alexia sighs gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles softly. “Neither did I. But maybe last night was a wake-up call. We need to talk.”

Your stomach clenches nervously, but you nod slowly. “Yeah, we do.”

She studies your face carefully, clearly seeing the pain etched into your expression. Without another word, she rises, disappearing briefly before returning with a glass of water, painkillers, and a small plate of toast.

“Take these. You’ll feel better,” she instructs gently, sitting beside you again.

You take the medicine gratefully, sipping water as Alexia quietly watches, a hint of relief softening her features.

“Did you sleep at all?” you ask quietly, guilt rising again at the exhaustion clearly weighing on her shoulders.

She shakes her head with a tired half-smile. “I was too worried about you. Bit inconvenient if you died on me”

“I'm so sorry,” you whisper again instinctively, unable to suppress your remorse or the little smile at her joke.

“Stop,” she says softly, voice filled with warmth. “I wanted to take care of you. I would do it again without hesitation.”

You meet her eyes at last, seeing sincerity, care, and something deeper there—love. It makes your heart ache.

“Alexia—”

She squeezes your hand gently, interrupting your words. “Rest a little more, okay? Once you feel better, we’ll talk properly about us, about everything. No more silence. No more misunderstandings.”

The determination and warmth in her voice reassure you deeply, easing the anxiety knotting inside your chest.

You settle back against the pillows, exhaustion reclaiming you. As your eyes drift shut once again, you're acutely aware of Alexia’s comforting presence beside you, her gentle fingers brushing soothingly over your forehead.

For the first time in weeks, despite the physical misery of your hangover, your heart feels hopeful because maybe, just maybe, this painful night has brought you and Alexia back to the place you both needed to be.

The next time your eyes open, your headache has faded just slightly, though a dull ache still echoes behind your temples. Sunlight pours softer now through the curtains, casting the room in a golden warmth. The apartment is quiet, and a sense of loneliness creeps into your chest.

Gingerly, you sit up, stretching slowly, testing your body. You still feel fragile, emotionally and physically, but you realise in that quiet moment, all you truly crave is the comfort of Alexia's embrace.

You pull yourself out of bed, finding your footing shaky at first, and carefully step into the hallway. Alexia’s home is intimately unfamiliar, every detail reminding you of her, she was etched into each corner.

The soft clinking of dishes leads you toward the kitchen, where you find Alexia with her back turned, quietly making coffee. The scent fills the air, comforting and familiar. You pause for a moment, watching her, your heart swelling with gratitude and a deep longing. All your defences crumble, and suddenly, you're overcome with the simplest yet strongest desire—a hug.

"Alexia?" Your voice is soft, hesitant, almost childlike.

She turns immediately, eyes brightening with relief as she sees you standing in the doorway. "Hey," she replies gently, setting the mug aside, her expression warm, patient, and encouraging. "Feeling a little better?"

You nod slowly, eyes dropping to the floor, suddenly shy. "A bit. But..." Your voice falters, the words catching in your throat.

"But what?" Alexia takes a cautious step toward you, sensing your hesitation.

You lift your gaze, vulnerability clear in your eyes. "Could I... could I just have a hug? I really, need one right now.”

Alexia’s expression softens instantly, her lips curling into a tender, understanding smile. She closes the distance between you without hesitation, opening her arms. "Come here."

You move into her embrace eagerly, melting instantly into her warmth. Her arms wrap tightly around you, protective and comforting. Her familiar scent washes over you, calming the lingering anxiety in your chest. You bury your face in her shoulder, breathing her in deeply, feeling her steady heartbeat against your chest.

Alexia holds you securely, one hand gently stroking your hair, the other firmly wrapped around your waist. She doesn't rush you, doesn't speak, simply lets you soak in her presence. Her heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, reassuring you that you are safe, cared for, and exactly where you belong.

"I've missed this," you whisper finally, your voice muffled into her shoulder. "I've missed you."

Her arms tighten slightly around you, voice thick with emotion as she replies softly, "I've missed you too, more than you know."

You pull back just enough to look up into her eyes. "Can we fix this? Please?"

Her hand rises to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing gently over your skin. "We can," she promises quietly, sincerity shining clearly in her gaze. "Together."

You let out a deep, shuddering breath, relief flooding your chest. As she holds you close again, you realise that this hug, this simple yet profound gesture is exactly the bridge you'd both needed to reconnect, heal, and move forward, hand-in-hand, leaving the pain behind.

The gentle sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling oil fill Alexia’s kitchen, creating a comforting backdrop to the quiet tension lingering between you both. You're seated at the kitchen counter, watching her intently. Every graceful movement she makes is familiar, deeply soothing, yet painfully nostalgic.

The aroma of freshly sautéed garlic and herbs slowly eases some of the residual ache from your hangover, helping you feel somewhat human again.

Alexia pauses briefly, her gaze drifting upward until it meets yours. She smiles softly, almost shyly, returning quickly to the pan, stirring slowly.

You swallow nervously, deciding this moment is as good as any. “Alexia,” you begin hesitantly, voice gentle but determined, “can we… talk about us now?”

She freezes momentarily, visibly taking a steadying breath, before nodding and turning down the heat. She leans against the counter, her eyes fixed steadily on you.

“Of course we can,” she replies softly, voice calm yet vulnerable. “I’ve wanted to for weeks now. Honestly, I've just been scared.”

Your heart clenches slightly. Alexia Putellas—one of the strongest, bravest people you know—scared? It moves you deeply. “Why scared?” you ask quietly, desperately needing to understand her side of this.

She sighs, setting the spatula down, her eyes filled with sincerity. “Because I know things went wrong, and we both made mistakes. I was scared we couldn’t come back from it. That maybe I'd lost you for good.”

Your chest tightens at her admission. Reaching your hand forward, you softly place it over hers, intertwining your fingers gently. “You haven’t lost me. You never did. I thought maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

She shakes her head firmly, turning her hand upward so your palms touch warmly. “That could never happen,” she whispers earnestly, eyes glistening slightly with unshed emotion.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling vulnerable yet strangely safe. “How did it get so complicated between us?”

She squeezes your hand reassuringly, looking deeply into your eyes. “Because we stopped talking. We both got stubborn, afraid of rejection, of getting hurt even more, and suddenly the silence grew so loud neither of us knew how to break it. I should've been braver.”

“So should I,” you admit softly. “I'm sorry for running away from the conversation. I was afraid you'd say you were done even though I know I said I was.”

Alexia steps closer, gently cupping your face in her hand. Her voice is clear and unwavering as she says, “I could never be done with you. Ever. You're the best part of my life.”

Your heart soars at her words, the heaviness in your chest lifting instantly. You lean slightly into her touch, eyes closing briefly, cherishing the tender connection. “You’re my best part, too,” you whisper back.

She smiles warmly, thumb brushing softly over your cheekbone. “So what do we do now? How do we fix this?”

You open your eyes slowly, meeting her gentle gaze. “We communicate better. No more assumptions, no more silence. If something hurts, we say it. If something’s confusing, we talk. And we trust each other again.”

She nods, her expression filled with genuine hope and relief. “I want that. I promise to talk and listen, to always be honest, even when it's difficult.”

You squeeze her hand softly. “Me too. And... thank you for last night—for taking care of me. You didn't have to, after everything.”

She leans down, gently pressing her forehead to yours. Her voice drops to a tender whisper. “I'll always be there for you. Always.”

You feel tears gathering, relief and happiness intertwined so completely you can’t separate them. Smiling gently, you lean in, brushing your lips softly against hers—a tender, sweet kiss filled with promise, forgiveness, and the joy of starting fresh.

Pulling back slightly, Alexia smiles lovingly. “Now, let me finish cooking dinner before I burn it completely.”

You laugh lightly, the sound beautifully freeing. You feel lighter, hopeful, deeply comforted. You know now, without a doubt, that you and Alexia are finally on a path toward healing—and this time, nothing will stand between you.

You watch Alexia as she turns back to the stove, the golden light of the kitchen casting a soft glow around her. There’s a warmth in your chest, a gentle hum of relief and happiness that you hadn’t felt in so long. Everything between you feels lighter now, but there’s still a nervous flutter inside you, an uncertainty that lingers in the wake of everything you’ve been through together.

Your fingers fidget against the counter as you hesitate for a moment, your heart thudding in anticipation. Swallowing lightly, you shift in your seat, voice barely above a whisper as you murmur, “Just one more thing before you finish cooking dinner…”

Alexia turns her head slightly, her eyebrows raising in quiet amusement. “Yeah?” she asks, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

You hesitate again, suddenly feeling incredibly shy under her gaze. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the counter, your voice quiet and unsure. “C-Can I… have a kiss?”

The words feel foreign on your tongue, hesitant and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t meant them to sound. You immediately drop your gaze, afraid of how she’ll react, the fear of rejection still lurking somewhere deep in the back of your mind. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe she doesn’t want that yet but, before you can spiral any further, you feel her presence right in front of you.

Gently, her fingers tilt your chin upward, guiding your gaze back to hers. The warmth in her eyes is undeniable, soft, reassuring, filled with something tender that makes your stomach flutter.

“You don’t have to be nervous about asking me that, ever” she says quietly, her thumb brushing over your cheek ever so lightly. “Of course, you can have a kiss.”

Your breath catches as she leans in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. Instead, you close the small gap between you, pressing your lips hesitantly to hers. It’s soft, delicate, almost unsure at first, but Alexia’s hands settle gently at your waist, grounding you, making you feel safe.

She deepens the kiss just slightly, not pushing, just reassuring. Her lips move slowly against yours, and you can feel her smile against your mouth, as if she’s been waiting for this just as much as you have.

When you finally pull away, your face feels warm, your heart racing, and you don’t even need to look in a mirror to know you’re blushing.

Alexia chuckles softly, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before whispering, “You don’t ever have to be shy about that, cariño.”

You nod wordlessly, still feeling breathless from the kiss, a little dazed but undeniably happy.

Alexia grins at your expression, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before stepping back toward the stove. “Alright, now I really have to finish cooking. But later? You can ask me for as many kisses as you want.”

You duck your head, smiling to yourself as you watch her continue cooking, your heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. Maybe things weren’t perfect yet, but they were getting there one kiss at a time.

You sit at the kitchen counter, your heart still fluttering from the soft, lingering kiss Alexia had just given you. Your face is warm, and the shyness still lingers in your chest, but there’s something undeniably comforting about the way she so easily reassured you.

The soft clatter of kitchen utensils and the gentle sizzling of food fill the air as Alexia resumes cooking. Every so often, she sneaks a glance in your direction, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

You rest your chin on your palm, watching her work. The way she moves around her kitchen is so natural, so familiar. It feels like home—like the home you had been missing all this time.

She stirs something in the pan, then glances back at you. “Are you just going to stare at me the whole time?” she teases, arching an eyebrow.

Your eyes widen slightly, and you immediately avert your gaze, flustered. “No!” you protest, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.

Alexia chuckles softly, shaking her head as she plates the food. “You’re cute when you get all shy,” she murmurs, almost to herself, but you hear it.

You bite your lip, still nervous, but feeling safer in her presence than you have in weeks.

A moment later, she places a plate in front of you and slides onto the stool next to you. The scent of the food is rich and inviting, making your stomach rumble softly. You realise that, in the chaos of last night, you hadn't eaten much at all.

"Eat," she urges gently, nudging your hand with her own. "You need to get some strength back after… you know."

You nod, ducking your head slightly in embarrassment but picking up your fork nonetheless. The first bite melts in your mouth, full of warmth and flavour. It’s simple, but it’s perfect, and the fact that she made it for you makes it even better.

“This is really good,” you mumble between bites, looking at her with sincere appreciation.

Alexia smiles, pleased. “Of course, it is. I’m not just good at football, you know.”

You let out a small laugh, and she watches you with a soft expression, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the countertop. A comfortable silence settles between you both, but you can feel the weight of the deeper conversation that still lingers in the air.

After a few more bites, you place your fork down, taking a deep breath. “Alexia,” you say quietly, shifting to face her fully. “I meant it when I said I want to fix things. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”

Her expression softens immediately. “I don’t either,” she says, voice steady but full of emotion. “I hated the distance between us. I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

You nod, your fingers twitching slightly against the table. “I don’t either. But I don’t want to mess this up again. I want to do better.”

Alexia reaches for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. Her grip is warm, steady, reassuring. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. No pressure, no rushing—just us, figuring things out together.”

You squeeze her hand, feeling a wave of emotion rush over you. “Together,” you repeat softly.

She smiles, squeezing back. “Together.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you truly believe it.

As you finish eating, the weight of everything slowly settles. The conversation had been good, healing even, but there’s still something lingering in the air, a hesitation, a quiet reluctance that neither of you have acknowledged yet.

Alexia picks up both of your plates, moving them to the sink before turning back to face you. She leans against the counter, crossing her arms, her expression gentle but observant.

“So,” she says softly, watching you carefully, “do you want me to take you back home?”

The question makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. You know she’s only asking because it’s the reasonable thing to do—because she doesn’t want to assume anything, doesn’t want to push. But the thought of leaving this space, of going back to your own apartment where everything still feels empty and distant, fills you with a quiet dread.

You hesitate just a moment too long.

Alexia notices immediately. Her eyes soften, and she takes a step closer, tilting her head slightly as she studies your face. “You don’t really want to go, do you?”

You exhale slowly, dropping your gaze. “I… I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Alexia’s expression shifts into something even softer, something impossibly full of warmth and understanding. She nods once, stepping fully into your space and reaching for your hand again, her thumb running soothing circles over your skin.

“Then stay,” she says simply. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

You look up at her, searching her face. “Are you sure?”

Alexia lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “Of course, I’m sure. Do you really think I’d want you to leave when I can tell you don’t want to?”

You swallow hard, emotions swelling in your chest. “Thank you,” you murmur, squeezing her hand lightly.

She squeezes back, her smile reassuring. “Come on,” she says, tugging you gently toward the living room. “Let’s get comfortable.”

She leads you to the couch, settling down beside you, her arm draped casually over the backrest, close enough for you to lean into if you want to. There’s no pressure, just quiet reassurance.

You hesitate for only a moment before shifting slightly, curling into her side, resting your head against her shoulder. Alexia exhales softly, tilting her head to rest lightly against yours, her fingers drawing absentminded patterns on your arm.

The room is quiet, just the distant hum of the city outside and the soft sound of your breathing. You feel safe—truly safe—for the first time in weeks.

“You’re not alone,” Alexia whispers after a while, her voice gentle but firm. “Not now, not ever.”

You close your eyes, breathing her in, and let yourself believe it.

---

You wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and the quiet hum of the city outside Alexia’s window. Your head is pounding, your mouth is dry, and your stomach is still slightly uneasy, but none of that seems to matter when you roll over and see her sitting beside the bed, legs pulled up onto the chair, watching you with quiet amusement.

“You’re alive,” she comments, tilting her head. “Barely.”

You groan, pressing your hands to your face. “Remind me never to drink again.”

She smirks. “I told you last night, but you didn’t seem interested in my advice.”

There’s a warmth in her voice that makes your heart squeeze a little. Last night is a blur, but what you do remember is Alexia taking care of you. Holding you when you were sick. Laughing at your ridiculous drunken rambling. Sitting by your side, refusing to sleep, even when exhaustion was evident in her face.

You sit up slowly, running a hand through your messy hair. Alexia is still watching you, her face unreadable now. Like she’s waiting for you to say something, to address the thing that’s been sitting between you for too long now.

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“I’ve made a decision,” you say, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Alexia raises an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About us,” you say simply.

She blinks, sitting up a little straighter.

“I want it all with you,” you continue, voice steadier now. “The wedding, the house, the kids. Even the scruffy little dog from the shelter that I wouldn’t be able to leave behind because it looks at me with sad eyes.”

Alexia’s lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face. You can see the wheels turning in her head, the careful way she processes your words like she doesn’t want to let herself believe them too quickly.

“I don’t want you to ever think that I’m behind you or unsure,” you say firmly. “Because I’d have it all with you tomorrow if I could.”

She exhales a breath she’s been holding, eyes softening in that way that makes your chest ache. “You would?”

“In a heartbeat,” you promise. “If you asked me to, I’d marry you in this apartment, in our pajamas, with a takeaway pizza as our wedding dinner. Because none of the details matter to me. What matters is you.”

Alexia’s face breaks into the softest, most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. And suddenly, all the tension that’s been between you for months melts away like it was never there to begin with. She shakes her head, laughing quietly. “You are impossible.”

You grin. “But you like me anyway.”

Alexia doesn’t hesitate this time. “I love you anyway.”

And that’s all you need. “I love you” you speak as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

For a moment, there’s just silence—soft, warm, and full of things unspoken. Alexia is still looking at you like she’s trying to memorise every part of you, her lips curved in that rare smile, the one that makes your heart stumble.

“I love you,” she says again, quieter this time, like she’s still tasting the words, still letting herself believe this is real.

You reach for her hand instinctively, threading your fingers through hers. She squeezes lightly, grounding you in that simple touch.

“Do you mean it?” she asks after a beat, her voice uncharacteristically small. “All of it?”

You nod without hesitation. “Every single word. The wedding, the house, the kids, the scruffy little dog—I want all of it with you.”

Alexia huffs out a soft laugh, shaking her head as if you’re ridiculous. But there’s no denying the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles like she’s reassuring herself you’re really here, saying these things.

“So, what’s the plan?” she teases, tilting her head trying to lighten the mood but you get a bit carried away, it was all you’d thought about in your space the last week. “Big wedding or small?”

You grin, grateful that she’s letting you dream out loud. “Small. Just the people we love. Somewhere beautiful, but not too fancy, because I don’t want to feel like I’m in someone else’s fairytale. Just ours.”

She nods, considering. “And the house?”

“Something warm,” you say immediately. “With big windows and a ridiculous number of plants. A place where we can hear the rain on the roof at night.”

Alexia smirks. “You’re getting a little poetic.”

“I’m serious!” You squeeze her hand. “I want a home, not just a house. Somewhere we can come back to after bad games or long trips and just… be.”

Her smile softens, and you swear there’s something glassy in her eyes now. “And the kids?”

You hesitate for a moment, not because you’re unsure, but because you’ve never actually voiced this out loud before. “I don’t know how many,” you admit. “Maybe one, maybe two. Maybe a whole little team of them. But only if we both want that.”

Alexia watches you carefully, the weight of your words settling between you. Then she nods, as if something clicks into place. “I’d like that,” she says softly.

You touch your stomach, “I’d carry them, so you can still play football, I’ve always wanted a bump”

And just like that, you can see it—the life you’ve been imagining, no longer some distant, impossible thing, but something real. Something within reach. You pregnant a messy faced toddler at your feet as Alexia was feeling your next kid kicking in your stomach, her teammates flooding your home all aunties to your kids they adored. You moaned about cooking for that many but you secretly loved it.

“And the dog?” she asks, her voice teasing but affectionate bringing you out your daze.

You grin. “Oh, the dog is non-negotiable. Some scrappy little mutt that looks like it’s been through war but is secretly the sweetest thing. We’ll name it something dumb, like Pesto.”

Alexia snorts, shaking her head. “Pesto?”

“Or Pickles. Or Beans. Something ridiculous.”

She laughs, tilting her head as she watches you. “You’re serious about all of this.”

“I am.” You squeeze her hand again. “And I don’t want you to worry that I’m not where you are with any of it, Alexia. Not of this. Not of us I know I’m only 24 but I’ve always wanted a family young.”

She swallows hard, and for a moment, you see all the walls she’s been holding up, all the doubts she’s been carrying, start to break down.

“I’d have it all with you tomorrow,” you say again, softer this time. “If you asked me to.”

Alexia exhales sharply, then leans forward, pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs, but there’s no bite to it.

You smile. “But you love me anyway.”

She closes her eyes, breathes you in, and whispers, “I do.”

#alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #woso #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas one shot #fcb femeni

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borathae · 28 days ago

Text

Birthday Boy | JHS x f.Reader

“It is Hoseok’s birthday tomorrow and you have the very brilliant idea to help him spend his birthday midnight by having an orgasm.”

Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x Witch!Reader

Genre: best friends with benefits!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut, Domestic Fluff

Warnings: some very cute cuddles <3, which gets them horny of course, sub!Hobi, service Domme!Reader, sex magic, orgasm denial & control through magic, mutual stripping, nipple sucking & licking for both, body worship, licking & biting of his abs and thighs, oral sex (m.receiving), blowjob, rimjob, anal fingering (m.receiving), use of a buttplug, he gets so desperate, begging, she rides him cowgirl style, gentle choking (m.receiving), she also like steps on his throat once :), dirty talk, praise, he calls her baby, he screams & cries in pleasure, he fucks her so rough once she lifts the spell <3, creampies, squirting, multiple orgasms, cuddly aftercare, this is so horny

Wordcount: 7k

a/n: do not be fooled by the cute header, this story is horny. this is actually the horniest hobi story i ever wrote JFADJ but also! look at the cute header! ah! i love it and i love him :( also, if you're not into the whole poly stuff, this story is still enjoyable because it is only hinted very briefly and this is basically a Hobi Bobi story 💗 happy birthday Hobi i love you 💜 ps: i feel so sad that i couldn’t finish it in time but life was very overwhelming for me. but it's here now and i'm very happy <3

It is the night before his birthday party. Taehyung is the official party planner, with Seokjin and Emma as his seconds in command. Yoongi is in charge of the food, with Jungkook as his sous chef. Meredith and her coven travelled for the party and even some of Hoseok’s Paris friends have announced themselves.

It will be a great event, hosted at the estate and with plans of lasting long into the next day.

But this is all part of tomorrow. Tonight, Hoseok is at the town house, having no idea how big the party is actually going to be.

He knows that there will be something going on tomorrow because Yoongi invited him to a birthday dinner (which is just an excuse to get Hoseok to the estate for the party). You all hope that Hoseok will love the surprise.

Tonight however, he is alone and you don’t like that. You want him to spend his birthday night feeling loved and appreciated. Because that’s what he is.

Loved.

So deeply loved.

The others know of your plans and support you fully.

Hoseok opens a few seconds after you rang the door bell. The masculine scent of his shower gel instantly meets your nose. Judging by his comfortable pyjamas, he is already getting ready for bed.

“___? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” he asks, entirely baffled by your unexpected visit.

“Everything is alright. Did I ring you out of bed?”

“No, not at all. I’m watching telly. Come in, it’s freezing out here”, he says, letting you inside.

“Thanks, yeah it’s pretty chilly. I hope it’s okay where I parked.”

You parked your car behind Hoseok’s green VW beetle in his driveway.

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m not going anywhere tonight. Let me get your coat.”

“Thanks.”

He hangs it and offers you a pair of wool loafers to wear, which you very gladly accept because floors in old houses are always chilly.

“Can I get you something? Water? Tea? Warm milk with honey?” he offers

“Seriously, you don’t have to work for me.”

“Tea? Sleepy tea? Are you staying the night? I don’t know what kind of situation this is.”

“It’s a your birthday-day starts on midnight and I want to celebrate it with you situation.”

“Are you serious?” he sounds completely in disbelief.

You nod your head, “very serious. If you’re down.”

“Of course I’m down. Wow, I didn’t even. I just. I don’t know what to say. This is, like, really nice of you.”

You smile at him, which Hoseok giddily retorts.

“So uhm, sleepy tea?” he asks.

“Sounds lovely. Wanna make a sleepover out of it?”

“You just wanna hog my warm water for a shower, don’t you?”

“Hey, untrue. I also wanna hog your PJs and your skincare.”

He laughs and points upstairs.

“Feel at home. You know where everything is.”

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

Hoseok is in the living room, playing on his phone when you come back. He sits up, eyes lighting up at the view of you in his pyjamas.

“Hey”, he whispers and clears his throat, “hey, you’re back. How was it?”

“Very nice. I feel very snuggly.”

“Yeah? That’s good. I put wood in the chimney”, he say and rolls off the couch to hurry to his fireplace. He pokes the flames a few times then slips on a pair of heat resistant gloves to get the kettle from the kettle hook.

He pours the boiling water into two mugs with teabags, storing the kettle back on the flames.

“Thanks, this will warm me in no time.”

“I’ve got more. I put the electric heating on too, so give it some time. I always forget when I’m alone because I don’t get cold, you know”, he explains as he hurries through the room to get blankets and pillows.

“I get it. If I didn’t freeze, I’d forget about it too.”

“Yeah totally. Here, blankets. Socks? Do you want socks? I’ve got socks.”

You can’t protest and then he is already out of the room. Hoseok is a very good host. Perhaps a little overbearing, but you like it. You are a very overbearing host yourself and being completely pampered at Hoseok’s always feels especially cozy.

“I’ve got options. Cotton, wool, cashmere, none of that artificial shit though ‘cause it’s awful. Just pick”, he returns with a few socks in his hands.

“Wool would be lovely, thank you.”

“Wool it is. They got lady bugs on them.”

“So cute. Oh? And really soft for wool.”

“Right? I made them myself.”

“You did? That’s so funky.”

“Thanks.”

“Now get on here and relax. What are you watching?”

“I just started Howl’s Moving Castle. Don’t judge me but this movie still slaps.”

“I’m not judging you for having great taste. It’s an awesome movie. Wanna cuddle and watch it?”

“Totally, what the hell”, he says.

And so it happens that you and he share the blankets while the house warms up. He is against the backrest, lying sideways and with his left arm under your head. He uses pillows for his head, keeping his right arm over your waist.

“Is this good for you?”

“Yes, it’s totally good. You?”

“It’s very good. If you’re suddenly feeling something poking you, that’s just my gun that I keep in my pants.”

You laugh, “okay horndog, I’ll remember it.”

He chuckles and pulls you closer, giving the shell of your ear a gentle bite. Which is totally surprising to get from him but it’s also nice.

You and Hoseok, well, you and Hoseok aren’t officially lovers. You are best friends who just so happen to have slept together. A few times. Two times to be more exact. The first time happened after you had to take shelter from the rain at his place. It was a good night. Very fun. The second time was at his place too. It is still unbelievable because you and he did it together with Yoongi.

If you are being honest, you wouldn’t be opposed if tonight went down the sexy route as well.

You and he are talking after the movie. The clock shows ten and you each had two cups of tea.

You are mindlessly playing with his hand, inspecting every single inch of it. He has the most beautiful hands and nails. They are so delicate and just slightly veiny. His nails are very well groomed and his nail beds are moisturised. His palms are so soft because he takes his hand care very seriously.

You massage along his tendons gently, following the paths of your fingers with your eyes.

“Hm, that’s nice”, he purrs quietly, smiling to himself. His eyes barely want to stay open because of how cozy you make him feel.

“You’ve got such beautiful hands.”

“Thanks.” His breath hitches as you guide his hand to your lips to kiss his knuckles. He snickers, snuggling closer, “what was that for?”

“I like your hands”, you state matter of factly, “hey, Hobi?”

“Yes, ___?”

“What would you say to taking this upstairs?”

“For bed cuddles or for more?”

“If you’re down, more. If not, then bed cuddles.”

“Yeah. Yeah sure”, he instinctively pulls you closer, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, “I’d be very down actually. As you can probably feel.”

You snicker, “mhm for a while.”

He laughs, “sorry, I got excited.”

“It’s fine. Can I tell you what I’m imagining?”

“Totally. Tell me.”

“So I was thinking, maybe I could be a little more dominant tonight. And I have something I want to suggest.”

“Tell me. The dom part already sounds nice to me. You can take the lead, I’m down.”

“So okay. Maybe someone already told you that I can magically control orgasms.”

“Kook might have dropped something of that sort. Why? Wanna do it on me?”

“Yeah basically. My goal is to keep you magically edged until it’s midnight so you can enter into your birthday-day having an orgasm.”

His dick twitches very aggressively.

“Yo. That was strong as fuck”, you gasp.

“You felt that? You felt what this just did to me?”

“I did.” You look at him. His eyes are gleaming in excitement. “So you’re down?”

“I’m so down. I feel like you gotta tie me up though. I feel I’ll be too wiggly.”

You snicker, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you’re behaving.”

“As if.” He is teasing.

“Don’t give me a challenge, I’ll prove you wrong.”

He laughs breathily, eyes flitting to your lips.

“So like”, he begins, tracing your waist, “how kinky are we talking? Are you also gonna grow a dick and fuck me with it?”

“You know about that too?”

“Yeah, Kook told me, who got it from Tae. Which by the way, you really gotta do it with Kook soon. He was genuinely so jealous as he talked about it.”

You laugh, “wow okay, good to know.”

“Hah, yeah”, Hoseok lets out, eyes practically yearning for you.

“You really wanna know what I’ll do to you?”

“Yeah, tell me. Wanna watch your lips move as you do.”

Hoseok’s answer was yes to every single thing you suggested. He practically started panting the longer you talked.

Now you find yourself under him, nestled in his comfortable bed and with his knee against your pussy. He puts on some music – slow RnB – and dimmed his lights. You and he share moans and sighs, kissing passionately. He is so noisy. It turns you on so much.

“I’m so obsessed with you”, he breaks the kiss just to praise you and adore your neck.

“Mhm Hobi…what’s the time?”

He takes your phone to check.

“Ten fourty. Geez, we’ve been making out for fourty minutes? No wonder my cock hurts.”

You laugh and use his moment of distraction to flip your positions. You use a little bit of magic for it, resulting in Hoseok to gawk at you in complete shock.

“How did you just do that? I’m supposed to be stronger.”

“Magic. Yoongi showed me how to lift people with it.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way. You’ve always been hot but, fuck, you’re so hot ever since you’ve become a witch.”

You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair and pecking his jawline. He has the perfect jawline.

“Thank you. What a sweetie you are.”

“Mhhhhm you’re a tease. Just let me be closer”, he whines, shuddering.

“How much closer?”

“Skin against skin closer.”

You sit up and roll out of bed. Hoseok sits up, draping his legs over the edge. His eyes are focused on you, pupils dilating at the view of you sensually undressing.

It doesn’t take long because you are only wearing pyjamas and nothing underneath.

You throw your shirt to the side, shifting your eyes to him when Hoseok reacts audibly.

“You’re fucking beautiful”, he says, gazing at your chest.

“Thanks.” He makes your heart flutter. “How unsexy would I be if I kept the socks on?”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling.

“Still sexy. They’re cute on you.”

“Then they stay on”, you say, making him laugh one of his very rare deep laughs. It’s so sexy. “Your turn.”

Hoseok stands up while you sit down to watch. It doesn’t take him long either because he also only wears PJs and nothing else. He abandons them on the ground, joining you back on bed. While you are kneeling, he is sitting by the edge.

You can’t stop looking at each other. You only have his dimmed LEDs on. They’re red and really bring out how fucking gorgeous he is. No wonder people love to watch him fuck. He is made to be adored and gazed upon.

You cup his face and kiss him. Hoseok moans softly, climbing on bed to chase the kiss. He is on all fours, tingling like crazy when you feel him up. It is insane how far away from reality he currently feels. In the best way possible. It is as if you and he are trapped in the most wonderful bubble. It’s been a very long time since sex made him feel this good. And it’s only been foreplay up until now.

“Fuck. You’re, like, amazing”, he sighs and closes the distance to pulls you on his lap. He wraps his left arm around your waist, pressing your stomach against his’. His right hand runs up to your breasts, massaging one of them, while his mouth worships the other.

“Oh wow”, you let out, not having expected the attention. It makes you shiver and arch your back.

Hoseok gets to his knees, carrying you with ease. Honestly, the way you writhe in his arms gets him desperate. One night he will dedicate everything to fucking you in this position. He is making a mental note of it. It has to happen. Him on his knees, while he makes your body dance on his cock and your back arch in fucking ecstasy.

But tonight is not the night. You haven’t given him permission yet to slip it in and he is so curious to feel the magic working.

With his eager tongue licking your nipple, he lies you down in the sheets. He keeps his left arm around your waist, but uses his right hand to explore your inner thighs.

“Hoseok…” you sigh, tingling like crazy.

“It’s insane how pretty you are. Shit, it’s insane”, he lulls, changing sides. He lingers on your neck as he does, which only makes you shiver more. By the time he takes in your other nipple to suck on it, you actually have to moan.

Hoseok purrs, circling your sensitive bud with his tongue. Your heart is racing like crazy.

“Hoseok, ah”, your voice quivers a little as you sigh his name. You run your hands up the nape of his neck until you can bury them deep in his incredibly soft hair. They’re a little longer in the back and feel so good between your fingers.

You aren’t tugging, but Hoseok still lifts his head. He comes eye to eye with you, cups your face and pulls you into a needy kiss. It happens that the position changes again. You and he on your knees, then you on his lap again. Closer than before. Skin against skin. As if your bodies are dancing together.

Naturally, you have to grind on him, finally twisting his hair to deepen the connection.

Hoseok likes it, feeding you his deep purr just as he feeds you his tongue. You are so close like this that your slickened nipples rub against his chest and his cock gets stimulated between your stomachs. It fucking turns him on to the point his skin feels sensitive. Everything about you turns him on. So much that he actually feels desperate.

He breaks the kiss, hand restless on your back and ass and cock leaking on your tummy. Just as your pussy leaks on his thighs. Seriously, this moment is spiritual.

“Just sit on my cock, mhm?” he offers.

“Don’t tempt me”, you feel breathless and starved for him. Sitting on him would give you so much relief.

“It’s almost midnight anyway. Just sit on me already. Please, baby?”

You check the phone clock, “Hobi, it’s only two past eleven.”

“Fuck, you weren’t supposed to check the time.” He kneads your butt. “Please baby, just sit on me.”

He is sexy when he is desperate. You crave to ravish him, but control yourself for the sake of your plan.

“Not yet.”

You push him down into the pillow, knocking a moan and a chuckle out of him. He writhes to get comfortable, caressing your thighs.

“That was so hot.”

“You’re hot”, you throw back and connect your lips with his neck.

“Mhhhhm, this is nice”, he sighs, exposing his neck sensually.

You are lying next to him, propping yourself up on your elbow and grinding your body against his’. You use your free hand to explore his body, dancing it all over his perfect curves. All while Hoseok lies beneath you, shivering and tingling. Your touch is electric and magical, and you aren’t even using your powers yet. It’s just you. Your presence, your warmth, your scent and the feelings you awake in his chest. It’s all you who feels fucking magical to him.

You continue your path to his chest once his neck is sensitive. Hoseok chases your kiss with a small arch of his back. If he still had a pulse, it would be going crazy by now. You have him feeling so giddy and turned on.

“Your body is perfect, Hobi”, you whisper, swirling your tongue over his pecs before you reach his nipple.

You want to repay the favour and give his nipples the attention they deserve. He groans softly, rubbing his feet over the sheets because his legs just can’t stay still.

“Do you like this?”

“Yeah…it’s good. You’re incredible”, Hoseok praises, caressing the nape of your neck. He isn’t lying. This feels fucking amazing. His nipples are the most sensitive. He needs to be turned on in order to love getting them played with. He is so turned on that each lick and touch shoots electric pleasure through his veins.

You purr happily, changing sides to make it even. You play with his swollen nipple as you suck the other, giving him some extra love by running your nails over his pecs whenever you can.

“You have me shivering, fuck”, he confesses in a chuckle, shuddering.

“Mhhhm that’s sexy”, you purr and continue your explorations.

Hoseok often hides behind baggy clothes, which rarely let people know just how perfect his body actually is. Lean and strong. It is definitely the body of someone who uses it to dance and who really treasures his appearance. His waist fits perfectly between your fingers and his stomach is toned. His skin is soft and hairless and, fuck, it smells so good. It makes you want to eat him.

“Ah”, he gasps, abs twitching. He chuckles and pets your hair, “fuck, you little biter.”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You smell so good.”

“I liked it.”

You do it again, taking his soft skin between your teeth to tug gently. Hoseok moans softly, rolling his hips up. A third time’s a charm. Just a little harder.

“Fuck, this is insane”, he gets out, caressing your cheek. “This feels so good.”

“It does. Your body’s insane”, you rasp and bite him above his hip bone.

He writhes and giggles in embarrassment. Compliments fluster him a lot.

“I could go mad”, you add and continue your path. You make him believe that you will take him inside only to swerve in the last moment and kiss his thighs instead.

He opens them, cursing under his breath. He’s already so hard. Your teases ache. He needs to be touched or he will burst.

“Take a taste, baby.”

“Mhm I am”, you coo, licking his thighs.

“Fuck, you’re driving me…ahm…just take it inside please.”

“You’re so needy.”

He whines and covers his own eyes with his hands, flexing his arms naturally.

“Fuck, you’re awful.”

“Mhhm, you like it”, you tease and surprise him by wrapping your lips around his cock.

His hips buck up, he sits up and groans your name.

One hand on his chest and he is down again, now cursing.

You purr, sucking on his leaky tip. So sweet. He tastes like heaven. And he keeps throbbing so perfectly.

“Seriously, baby. Fuck”, Hoseok tries to sit up again.

Push.

“Shit, you’re bossy tonight.”

“Mh-hm”, you purr, nodding your head.

“Just let me look.”

Push.

“Ah. hah. ___ holy fuck.”

You chuckle and slip him deeper. Hoseok whines, writhing in the sheets.

“This is crazy. Baby…let me look…”

He tries one last time only to get pushed down again and earn your foot on his throat. You use his body to balance so you aren’t actually applying pressure on his delicate throat. Hoseok groans, gripping your ankle. He gulps so much, gasping whenever he doesn’t.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the actual fuck”, he switches into Korean because of how hard you get him. “What the fuck. This is crazy. Ah sweetheart. Baby…”

You understand enough Korean these days that you know what he is currently chanting as you suck the soul out of his pretty cock. It motivates you to truly ruin him. You concentrate all your loving on his tip, sucking and licking it sloppily. They’re all most sensitive there. Men, you mean. They’re all just little sensitive babies. You’ve got enough dick in your mouth to have learned this fact. They all like to act tough with their cute deep throating attempts, but what really gets them needy is sloppy attention to their tips. They’re all so easy.

Hoseok isn’t any different, he is whining and mewling, panting heavily because you steal his air just by treating his flushed cockhead like a lollipop.

It’s what he deserves. He is such a perfect best friend and a crucial part of this little found family. He deserves to have his mind blown (pun intended).

“You’re actually making me cum”, he oh so very soon confesses, fingers trembling around your ankle, “this is so hot, I’m close.”

You could use your magic already, but don’t want to. Edge him normally once then get him desperate. That’s the plan.

“Slow. Wait. Fuck. Slow”, he tries to warn you, taking deep breaths in between to stop the inevitable. One more lick and he’ll burst in your warm mouth. “Baby slow.”

One last suck. The pleasure swirls up his cock. Hoseok groans, arching his back. It’s going to happen.

You slip off.

“Urgh” he growls, dropping and writhing in agony, “ohoho this was fucking cruel.”

You snicker, and sit up. You pull your leg back so you can kneel next to him. You take his hands to put them above his head. You let your tits tangle in his vision, enjoying the hungry gawking he is doing.

“You didn’t think that I could actually handle you, did you?” You grin. “Or that I’ll let you cum that easily?”

“Shit”, he chuckles, staring at you completely star struck, “I’m so into you right now. Fuck”, he squeezes your hands…and arches his back as you steal a kiss. It lasts way too short for him, leaving him to crave the addicting taste of you.

“The feeling’s mutual”, you whisper sweetly and connect your lips with his neck so you can kiss your way down to his cock.

“Fuck, ___ aaah…”

You stay by his side, lying down on your stomach. You drape your arm over his lap, using it as your support so you can take him back inside easily. Your other hand you put around his throat, squeezing down just enough that you can feel his needy moan as you swirl your tongue around his leaky cock.

“What’s happening to me? I feel…fuck, I feel so good”, he croaks out, head pounding and chest tingling. He feels as if he is floating. The connection is so deep. The pleasure is so intense.

Hoseok swears that he won’t be the same after tonight. And that he won’t ever get you out of his head again. You have him dancing on clouds.

“Can I have more? Please”, he soon pleads with you and you answer him right away.

You change positions so you are still by his side but on your knees. You abandon his neck to massage his base, using your other hand to play with his balls. Like this, you take in more of him, keeping your lips relaxed so they move around him as you fuck your mouth slowly. You let the drool dribble down his throbbing shaft, playing with it as you jerk whatever you can’t fit. The rhythm is sensual and really deepens the connection.

“Like this. Just like this. What the fuck, ___. Genuinely, what the fuck”, he chants, legs feeling like jello and head turning.

Hoseok got a lot of head in his long life. He got amazing head too. And yet this right now feels like the best head he ever got because it’s done by you. And he is high on you. Every single fucking molecule of you.

“___ baby…”

Hoseok sits up, running his hand along your waist and kissing your shoulder. He moans softly, resting his lips against your shoulder after the kiss. He pulls you closer by your waist, rolling his hips up to meet your warm mouth.

“You feel so good…”

You suck him harder because the gesture really turns you on.

Hoseok’s curses, following it up with tender kisses along your shoulder.

“___ baby, you feel so good. I’m dizzy…”

He uses his tongue to lick your shoulder and the small part of your spine he can reach. All while his left hand plays with your tits and his right hand disappears between your legs to play with your soaked pussy.

“No baby.” You slip off his cock and straighten up. “No touch, just let me take care of you”, you order in a whisper, claiming his lips in a kiss. Your hands are around his cock. Hoseok instantly kisses you back, using his tongue for it to taste himself. He cradles your face with his left hand while his right hand dances along your pussy. Like a feather-light tickle. It feels so good.

“You don’t want me making you feel good too?” he begs, letting the words tickle your lips.

“Soon, baby”, you sigh.

Hoseok answers you in a shaky moan, letting you push him back into the pillow and climb his lap. Sadly he has to stop fondling for it, missing it the second it leaves him. You sit down on his thigh right below his cock. It drives him insane that you do.

What drives him even more insane however is that you break the kiss and straighten up. Your hands are still dancing over his cock, moving slow enough that it is teasing him more than it satisfies him. Fucking hell, Hoseok is genuinely obsessed with you.

“We’ve got thirty minutes left”, you say.

“Shit, that’s too long.”

“No no it’s perfect. Means you’ll be desperate”, you say and bend down to kiss a path from his neck down to his inner thighs, hands now tickling his sides gently.

“I’m already desperate”, he whines and laughs at the same time, “fuck baby, again?”

“Of course. Tonight’s about you.”

“I’m not gonna survive tonight”, Hoseok sighs, opening his legs willingly. He raises them a second later when you come dangerously close to his ass.

“Mhhm so eager”, you purr, swirling your tongue on his thigh.

“Hm yeah”, he gets out, rolling his hips in desperation.

“I like it”, you say, connecting your tongue with his rim. So soft.

Hoseok lets out the first loud moan of the evening, arching his back. His hand instantly rests on the back of your neck. Not to push, but to be close to you. And also to caress you as best as possible.

“___ holy fuck.”

You agree in a moan, flicking your tongue as quickly as possible while your fingers tilt his hips to make it easier to reach him. He’s waxed and so soft. You can’t get enough.

Hoseok gasps and tenses his stomach, vision blurry as he stares at the canopy ceiling with slightly crossed eyes. You will never ever leave his head again. It’s impossible. You are in there. Forever. And it makes his entire body feel as if he is high on the best drug ever.

“So sweet. Mhm fuck”, you lull as you explore his hole deeper. You jerk him off at the same time, grabbing his dainty waist with your other hand. It tenses and twitches under your fingertips. Hoseok is moaning so much, clenching on your tongue as you open him eagerly.

“You gotta stop being so good. Ah. A-ah. Ahm. Mhm. Ah.”

He is so going to regret saying this. You will show him how much better you can be.

You break away with a purr and pick up the lube you laid out to slather your fingers with it. You lower your mouth to his cock while you let your fingers slip into his hole. Two of them.

“Fuck, ah. I shouldn’t have said that”, he keens, curling his toes. His mouth opens and stays open. His eyes are widened in shock as the sensation sinks in. Just as you sink in. Literally. He actually has your fingers in his ass. Holy fuck.

“Is this good?”

“It’s fucking good. What the fuck are you doing to me? I can’t stop – ah – moaning.”

“Good. Keep making your pretty noises for me.”

You pump your fingers slowly, curling them each time you pass his prostate. He is supposed to get worked up. He is so tight and soft. It’s so addicting.

“Holy fuck ah. Holy fuck. Ah. A-ah. Hah.”

Hoseok is so, so noisy. And it’s heaven. You spit on your fingers so you can slip them deeper and wiggle. And as Hoseok mewls and clenches around because you hit his prostate precisely, you take his cock inside your mouth to suck it vigorously.

“You’re gonna make me cum”, he confesses, twisting his own hair. “I, I can’t do this for long. ___ just- Ah. A-a-ah.”

How perfect it is to get a man so fucking desperate. Especially if that man is your amazing best friend. Although what you are currently doing to him blurs the line between friendship and passion. It’s addicting. To be stuck in this fuzzy moment and ride the waves together. Also to feel his insides clench around you. He is so warm and tight. And so soft. Oh so soft.

You curl your fingers with more strength, causing him to yelp and leak precum down your throat.

He wants to tell you that he is going to climax, but can’t form a coherent sentence. Doesn’t matter to you. You understand.

You open your eyes and finally do what you are supposed to do in such a situation. You think of the spell, enchanting him with it through your fingers against his prostate.

“Now!” He has no idea what is happening, but finds out a second later when he gets there without getting there. “What is happening? Why can’t I cum? Urgh. Ah! What the fuck? ___ what are you- ah.”

You slip off his cock but keep your fingers inside, torturing his poor edged prostate as you stare deeply into his droopy eyes and jerk him off quickly.

“What’s the matter, Hoseok baby? Can’t cum?”

“Oh my god, what the fuck?” He slaps the mattress and twists the sheets. “Did you enchant me?” he growls the question because you have him tensing up.

“Mhm I did. With those two fingers, right there”, you say and curl them so fucking good that Hoseok’s eyes roll back and his hands shoot up just to twist the edge of the pillow. His cock throbs and leaks precum on his abs. Said abs ripple as he tries to get himself there.

“Please, this is torture. I wanna cum.”

“You’ve got ten minutes to get through. Can you do this?”

“You’re still doing this? Urgh, fuck stop curling your fing-ah a-ah. Oh god this is so awful”, he moans and wiggles hips trying oh so hard to get there as he fucks his eager ass on your fingers.

“Awful? Your leaking cock says otherwise”, you coo, squeezing droplets of his pleasure out of his cock by pressing down on his prostate.

Hoseok growls, throws his hand over his eyes and squeaks out a helpless sob.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop this”, you offer him.

“Don’t stop. More. Fuck, more.”

He begs as sweetly as he shakes. You curl your fingers deeper and twist your hand around his swollen cock. Hoseok mewls, rolling his head from side to side because he just can’t stay still.

“You’re so nice to watch, Hobi. Is this what your viewers get to see mhm?”

“Seriously don’t talk like this. It’s making it worse.”

You chuckle.

“You’re so cute.”

You slip out despite his complaints and reach for your phone.

“What are you doing? Come back. Don’t look at your bloody phone now.”

“I’m setting a timer.”

“Forget about timers, just sit on me.”

“You’re cute when you’re needy”, you say and climb between his legs. You pick up the buttplug he chose, getting it ready for him.

He stares hungrily.

“You know what comes after that?” you taunt.

“Hurry up and let’s get to it.”

He makes you laugh, “you’re so needy.”

The plug slips inside easily, making him curse because it feels so good to be filled.

“All in. Took it so easily.”

“Don’t make me beg.”

“No, no. Beg. Go on.”

“Please. Fuck me”, he whines.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You climb his lap, running your hands up his torso until you can intertwine fingers with him. “Ready?”

“Just be with me already. I just wanna- oh”, he sits up and grasps your waist, moaning into your mouth.

Yes, you just sat down on him. His reaction will forever be burned into your mind.

“___”, he breathes, voice barely wanting to work.

“Hoseok”, you get out breathily, rubbing your nose against his’.

“Baby”, he sighs, cradling your head as if all he ever wanted to do was hold you. “Are you comfortable?” he asks in a shaky whisper.

“So comfortable. You?” You begin dancing your hips on his cock, using the sensual rhythm of the music to guide you.

Hoseok mewls, tilting his head until he can kiss you. With tongue. So needily, it feels as if he was starving. You pick up speed, pressing yourself close so your clit is rubbing against his stomach. His skin is so smooth and soft. The sensation is so, so nice against your clit.

It doesn’t take Hoseok long to break the kiss. He gawks at you, eyes glowing ruby and pupils blown out. Seriously if they could be heart shaped, they would be.

“Is this healthy? Am I supposed to feel like this?”

“You are. Just look at me, Hoseok baby, just a few more minutes”, you coo and let your eyes glow purple.

“___”, he mewls, pulling a face of agony. He tugs you closer, resting his forehead against yours. Your visions are blurry but you still keep looking at each other.

“That’s it, baby. Look at me. You’re so good, feeling like heaven.”

“I just wanna cum”, he whines, following it up with a barely there “please.”

Please.

What a pretty little word.

So short and yet so powerful.

You push him down and keep him pinned with your right hand on his throat and your left hand around his wrist.

Hoseok is disoriented for a second and completely loses his grip on reality when a second later you pick up a punishing pace, bouncing on him as if he had a debt to pay.

Hoseok doesn’t scream during sex, neither does he whimper. No matter how good it feels, those two sounds won’t leave him.

Until right now as you make him break the second rule.

He whimpers. He whimpers oh so loudly because he couldn’t handle it any other way.

And he begs. Oh he begs so much, only making you bounce harder and fuck him faster.

Hoseok’s toes curl because of you. His vision goes blurry and a little darker. All he can think about are orgasms. How good it would feel, how edging never ached as much, how you literally have him feeling small and needy.

“Please. Please. Please.”

“Just keeping begging. You’ve still got some time left.”

“Please. Please ___ please.”

Hoseok sobs, face contorting in agony and hands grasping your wrist.

“Please”, he pleads, “please slow down or something. Please.”

“You’re just so perfect, baby. You’ve got the best cock.”

“Please, my head hurts. Please.”

“You know which word to use to stop this.”

He shakes his head because he doesn’t want to Stop it, he just wants to stop aching in denial.

“Just let me cum. Please.”

“Soon. So soon.”

Hoseok whimpers and sobs, arching his back and curling his tongue back in his open mouth.

So this is how it feels. Hoseok never felt so helpless before. One must know that this is genuinely intense. He is constantly – constantly – one second away from climaxing. And this might sound like a dream at first, but it is agony. To desperately want to get there, to actually taste the relief and yet never actually get to savour it. Hoseok finally knows true desperation and it literally makes him cry. He cries real tears, voice quivering as he begs.

“Please, I’m sorry. Please.”

He has no idea that he is twenty seconds away from paradise. You tense around him, fucking him as if he needs punishing.

“Please. I’ll do anything.” Even Korean won’t get him there. He is at your mercy.

“You’re so cute, Hobi.”

“Please. PLEASE.”

The alarm goes off. He is finally one year older.

You lean down and kiss your birthday boy’s forehead, lifting the spell with it.

“Happy birthday”, you bring him over the edge like this.

And Hoseok screams. Just by being you, you make him break his first rule.

Hoseok screams, grasping your ass to keep you down as he drills his cock into you. It makes you squeal with him, eyes rolled back and body building up to a high. He can’t stop himself. He feels like a fucking animal and he needs to fuck like one before you take it away again. He can’t lose it. He needs to pound you stupid so you can’t steal his orgasms again.

He hits all the best spots and his cum is never ending. This is your personal heaven.

“I can’t stop. I can’t. Ah ___”, he sobs desperately, filling you with his high over and over again. “I can’t stop cumming, what the fuck baby. Ah!”

“Hobi, I’m cumming too.”

He moans your name as if you were his goddess, following you because, god, you have him worked up. He fucks harder for it, spreading your ass because he grips you with such neediness. It’s perfect because it gives your pussy enough space to squirt all over his cock and thighs.

“Kiss me. Fucking hell, kiss me as you squirt.”

You sloppily fulfill his wish, convulsing so much harder because of his needy tongue kisses.

You and he ride on your ecstatic highs like this. Tongue kissing, moaning and sobbing and getting messy.

You have no idea who comes down first, but you know that it takes a while.

Hoseok isn’t a Ripper, but he is still frozen after the high. You wrestle yourself up as best as your weakened body allows it, studying him. His eyes are closed, his brows furrowed and messy hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. His cheeks and lashes are soaked in his tears. His lips are puffy and red because of the kisses. He is so handsome.

You brush his hair back. Hoseok opens his eyes, spilling tears which couldn’t escape yet. You wipe them, following it up with a kiss to his forehead.

“Happy birthday.”

“I don’t know what to say”, he croaks.

“Say nothing”, you whisper and kiss his cheeks. They’re so soft.

“It was fucking amazing. I can’t believe this happened to me. I screamed.”

“You did.”

“I never scream.”

“So I guess you liked it?”

“Liked? I loved it, what the fuck”, he sits up and cups your face, staring at you as if you were his everything, “I don’t know what to do with the memory of you this night created. You just changed me. I-I’m, like, enchanted by you.”

You snicker, resting your forehead against his’.

“Same.” You melt. “I feel done. You made me squirt really hard.”

“I know. Fuck, come here you”, he lifts you so he can change positions. Sadly his softening cock slips out like this, but his thigh against your pussy stops you from leaking.

He has you on your side, kissing you slowly and touching you gently.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you”, he murmurs between kisses, which really makes this so much more special.

Soon the kiss has to break for the sake of cleaning up. You and he even change the sheets together and get some water to drink.

Now you are facing each other, sharing silence and nothing but the shine of his bedside lamp. You are dressed again, bodies covered under his fluffy duvet. He traces your features gently. His lips are curled into a faint smile.

“You seem happy”, you whisper, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. He makes you feel so relaxed and sleepy.

“I am. I’m so happy.”

“Happiness looks so pretty on you.”

He smiles, eyes softening.

“You are pretty”, he whispers and kisses your forehead.

You close your eyes and can’t open them again. Even when he pulls back and continues to trace your face.

“I genuinely think that this was the best birthday ever.”

“It hasn’t even been an hour yet. Just you wait until you taste Yoongi’s birthday dinner. There’s even cake.”

He chuckles, “fuck, I can’t believe you made me go into my birthday by having an orgasm.”

“Mh-hm, the kind which made you scream.”

He nudges you, “shut up.”

You smile.

Hoseok draws close, holding you in his arms and closing his eyes.

“You’re crazy and I love it.”

You snicker, melting into him, “thank you.”

“No. Thank you. So much.”

“Don’t. You deserved it. You deserve the world.”

“Shit, ___. You’re the one who deserves it”, he whispers and squeezes you gently.

“Just take it, Hobi.”

He chuckles, snuggling.

“Fine, whatever you say.”

“Mhm, good.”

You and he fall asleep like this. And it is needless to say that Hoseok is thoroughly and very happily surprised by the party. He deserves it. Because he deserves everything.

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transgendz · 6 months ago

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Cool, so my roommate has a ticket she needs paid tomorrow, and she didn't tell me almost midnight because she really thought she could handle it on her own. I am the main supporter of this household, and my job has been 2 weeks or more late with my check (almost 3 rn for one of them). I have a new job, but I just started training, and I'm not certain when that first check will be yet. Things are dire. We have a bill overdue and rent due on the first.

So, I have an art blog where I take requests and commissions, as well as selling finishshed pieces. Examples below. Dm me there for that @theartistrans and Dm me for proof or details on this situation if you want. I'll update as things change, I expect an update on my late pay from my original job, and news on when I get the check for the new one, just not sure when. Goal rn is for her ticket only, but anything beyond that will go towards covering the rest of this mess, hopefully before my birthday.

Kofi $C PP V

$0/$300

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sinofwriting · 4 months ago

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Present - Pierre Gasly

Words: 681 Summary: Pierre has some thoughts about her buying herself a necklace.

Masterlist | Support Me!

She claps her hands together as she looks at her phone. The device perfectly angled to capture her, the kitchen counter where an unopened box was, and Pierre who was lounging on the couch answering some emails.

“So, in honor of hitting two hundred and fifty thousand followers and my birthday happening in a few weeks, I decided to get myself a present.” Her eyes are alight with excitement and she bounces a bit, fingers itching to open the box. Meanwhile, Pierre’s head jerks up, eyes wide as he stares at his girlfriend.

“I was a little nervous about getting this.” She starts to say as her fingers open the box. “But y’know it’s like a combined gift for myself and I’ve been really good at not touching my savings for the past few months, so I didn’t feel too bad about dipping in.”

Pierre makes a strangled sound.

Lifting her present out of the box, she presents it to the camera before opening the box. “Isn't it gorgeous?” She moves it a bit closer before continuing to talk.

“This from Cartier, it’s the Galanterie de Cartier necklace, which is nearly thirty thousand dollars and this is only my second time seeing it in person and I’m just even more in love with it. I’ve been looking at this necklace for a few years now and while I love my pink Les Berlingots de Cartier necklace.” As she says it, she gestures to the necklace she’s currently wearing. “It was time to give it a nice little sibling in the Cartier family.”

“Mon bébé,” Pierre starts, finally able to speak. “You didn’t actually buy that did you?”

She turns to face him with a confused look. “Yeah, I did.”

“With your money?”

“Yeah, with my money.”

He covers his face for a second. “Baby, I leave my card for you all the time to get things for yourself. You should have used my card, it's what it’s meant for.”

“I didn’t need to, it was a gift for myself.”

“Your gift for yourself, is something I’m supposed to pay for.” He argues, nearly pouting. “I was also going to buy that for you for your birthday. I was planning on going to the store tomorrow.”

Her face softens at his admission. While her buying it had been a present to herself, she also knew it would rile her boyfriend up and she didn’t often share things like this with her fans as they were more there for her talking about books, but she had thought it’d be a fun little thing to film, to let his and her fans see.

“You knew I wanted this?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve shown me pictures before and talked about it. I know you also like the 1895 necklace that Cartier does, but not just any 1895 necklace, only the one from that collection. You want that birthstone bracelet from Tiffany’s and a large collection of collectors edition books when we finally have a house and you can have your own library and reading place. I know everything you want.”

Her heart melts at his words. Pierre was sweeter than most people gave him credit for and he often showed that side of himself to her, but she had no idea how much he paid attention to things she wanted.

“C’mere.” She murmurs, setting her necklace on the counter, arms outstretched.

He easily swings his body over the back of the couch and grabs at her hips as soon as she’s in arms reach before kissing her.

“Is this close enough for you?” He asks when they break away to breathe.

Her teeth find her bottom lip as she shakes her head slowly. “I think you can get closer.”

Pierre smirks at the response, capturing her lips in another kiss as he moves one of his legs between hers. “How about you stop recording for tiktok and we record something else?”

A laugh leaves her at his words, but she’s already reaching for her phone. “Only if I get to be on top.”

“Deal.”

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #sins fics

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merchen-aeravellae · 1 year ago

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Little Princess

Part 1

Yandere Royal Family x Fake Princess!Reader

Warning: yandere, platonic yandere, possessiveness, potion It's my birthday and this is my gift for you, It's 11:59 but it's still my birthday, not edited, tomorrow I will edit it.

The empire is getting ready for the most important celebration of the year. The imperial family is decorating the palace with gold and silver decorations, and diamond gifts are the sensation of the moment. However, a room that has been accumulating dust for years will be the cause of all plans crumbling.

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Yandere family is excited about the approaching date. Their little princess is reaching the age to debut in high society, and they cannot miss the opportunity to show you off to others.

Yandere family has all the servants decorating the castle, and they have the citizens decorating the village not that anyone is complaining. They have turned your birthday into the most important celebration of the year, always celebrating in grand style without skimping on expenses. You deserve the very best, and this year is no exception.

Yandere family is searching for you all over the castle to drag you along to find new dresses for the occasion. However, you are hiding in every possible place to avoid being found. You argue that you already have many dresses, but they don't care; they still want to buy you more.

Yandere family doesn't realize that you're hiding in the library where the history of the empire and the royal family is kept. You usually don't go there, or rather, you're not allowed to be there, which makes it the perfect place to avoid being sought out.

You tried to enter the room, but it seemed locked. However, you had been living in this palace long enough to learn how to open its doors without the need for a key. You quickly closed the door and pressed your ear against it, listening to several pairs of footsteps in the hallway. You didn't move from that spot until you stopped hearing them. You walked around, observing your surroundings; there were dozens of books everywhere, from the tables to the shelves.

You grab several books out of curiosity, but none capture your attention for long. That is until a series of books supported on the highest and furthest shelf from the others catches your eye it seems like they didn't want these books to be found. You use a nearby chair to reach them.

You read the title aloud, 'History and Genealogical Tree of the Imperial Family.' It's the first time you've read a book related to your family's history. Your curiosity overcame you, and you kept reading until you reached the part about your closest family members.

But it seemed that someone had made modifications to the book; someone had tried to cover up a name. You suppose it's yours since the person didn't do a good job, and you could still see some letters that you recognized as your own name. They had placed your sister's name over yours, and you didn't know the reason for that.

You continued reading to find the reason for this change, and finally, you reached the notes. A chill ran down your spine. In the notes, it was written about the true identity of your older sister and how someone else had been occupying her place for a long time. That person was you.

Yandere family doesn't understand your sudden change in personality; now you're thoughtful all the time, and they are sure you've been crying. Initially, they thought that the decorations and dresses were the cause of your sadness – not good enough or expensive enough for you. However, even after changing everything for something more luxurious, you remain the same.

Yandere family is desperate; they don't understand what's happening, searching far and wide without finding a logical reason. They press you until you can't take it anymore, and you confront them for having hidden the truth about your origins for so long.

Yandere family is surprised and horrified that you now know the truth. They waste no time in finding culprits: was it the servants, the guards, a family member? No matter who it was, their head will be displayed on a pike for the crime they committed.

Yandere family try to talk to you and explain the situation, but you refuse to listen. They are so desperate that they get on their knees to beg for your forgiveness, but not even that works to make you glance in their direction. It is at that moment that they devise a plan to uncover the truth and get rid of the culprit.

Yandere family quickly realized the truth; the forbidden library was unlocked, and it seemed like someone had been lurking around. A book that should have been burned long ago lay on the floor in a corner with all its pages crumpled.

Yandere family already have plans to remedy the situation, but they must act as soon as possible. A few days ago, you tried to escape, claiming that you need to find your biological family and seek answers to your questions. Your biological family may start praying that you never find them; if you do, your adoptive family won't hesitate to bury them alive in the depths of the earth so they never see the light of day again.

Yandere family have you locked in your room now, not wanting to take the risk of you trying to escape again, and this time succeeding. They sought out the most powerful witch in the empire to help them fix the situation. The solution is to make you believe it was all a dream. Initially confused, the witch provided them with a potion and detailed instructions on its usage.

Yandere family gave you the potion in one of your meals. They didn't want to do it, but they felt they had no other choice. At first, you refused to eat, but it didn't last long. Accustomed to having a full stomach, a single day of not ingesting anything made you feel sick. Your room was a mess, and you curled up in a corner. Your older sister tried to approach, but you quickly moved away as far as possible. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes, left the food on the bedside table, and left, locking the door behind her. You didn't take long to start eating.

Yandere family worried when you fell ill, even though they knew it was just the potion doing its work on your body and mind. You stayed in that state for days, and they took advantage of the time to remodel the library. They couldn't get rid of the book because it would be too suspicious, so they simply replaced it with a different one. The author who wrote the notes "disappeared" one night, and they never found them.

Yandere family were relieved when you woke up several days later, confused and unsure of the date. You were scared that your family acted as if nothing had happened. Your room was tidy, and the things you broke were arranged without a scratch. They told you that you fainted while trying on a dress for your celebration, and you hadn't woken up since then.

Yandere family know you won't stay still and will search for the family book in the library again, but this time, they are prepared.

You are confused when you read the book with the family tree; your name is alongside the rest of the royal family members, and the note about you taking the place of someone else is nowhere to be found. Was it all a dream? Everything felt so real; now, you don't know what is true and what is a lie.

Yandere family observe your behavior; you no longer reject them, but you also don't get too close to them. It's progress, and they know that sooner or later, you will come to them.

Yandere family are overjoyed when you apologize. At first, they acted confused, but when you explained that you had strange dreams, and that's why you acted strangely these past weeks, they "forgave you" and asked you to continue with the preparations for your birthday to proceed as usual.

Yandere family shed tears of joy and a bit of envy towards the other eyes watching you when they see you descending the grand staircase like an angel meeting its faithful devotees, blessing them with your presence.

Yandere family "They abandoned you, but we can protect you. The world is cruel, and our greatest desire is to safeguard your innocence."

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