#just imagine him coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you

[willowsnook]

breaking rules

Can we get heavy PDA Joe and everyone’s reaction

joe burrow x gf!reader 

—-------------------—----

Your friends made fun of you relentlessly because, to a lot of the outside world, it looked like you and Joe were just friends, distant cousins even. PDA made you very uncomfortable, and that paired well with Joe, who hated anyone prying into his private life. Of course, his teammates and your circle knew that the two of you were together, but the media had yet to catch on, even though you guys lived together. 

So imagine your surprise when it was now an hour into the team’s post-season dinner party, and Joe had not left your side. Usually,  at these events, you arrive together but then break off, him going to find his boyfriend Ja’Marr, and you going to hang with some of the other WAGs. Then you meet up at the end to leave, and the cycle repeats. 

But tonight, Joe’s hand had been snugly placed around your waist, even when you were talking to other people.  Missing the playoffs had hit him hard, and you had watched him retreat into his shell these past few weeks; you were there for him when he needed it. So you weren’t shocked at his lack of conversation tonight but surprised by the touch. 

The people you were talking to left to grab a drink at the bar, so you took the opportunity to turn to Joe. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, concerned. 

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled. You looked down at his arm wrapped around you and back up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Just want to be close to you.” 

Nodding, you decided you’d let him have a pass tonight to be clingy, even though you were cringing on the inside. Ja’Marr called over to Joe from the other side of the room and you were dragged along to join them. He was sitting on a couch next to Tee, and Joe sat down in an armchair, pulling you down on top of him. Both of his friends’ eyes widened at the sight. 

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Ja’Marr said once he came out of shock. 

“I thought you guys would never beat the siblings allegations,” Tee chimed in and Joe flipped them off before settling his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you against his chest. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you settled into Joe's lap, acutely aware of the eyes on you. Joe seemed unfazed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he chatted with Ja'Marr and Tee. You tried to relax, reminding yourself that these were your friends, but you couldn't shake the feeling of exposure.

"You good?" Joe murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Joe pressed a soft kiss to your temple, and you heard Tee let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Joe. Who are you and what have you done with our QB1?" Tee teased.

As the night wore on, Joe's affection only intensified. He peppered kisses along your shoulder, nuzzled into your neck, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your discomfort battled with a growing warmth in your chest at his open displays of love.

"Get a room, you two!" Sam Hubbard called out as he passed by, earning a chorus of laughter and wolf whistles from nearby teammates.

Joe just grinned, pulling you impossibly closer. "Maybe we will," he shot back and you slapped him in the chest. 

Deciding you needed some air, you walked off towards the balcony, naturally with Joe right behind you. 

“I’m giving you a one-night pass for this kind of behavior only because you’ve been so depressing,” you told him and he smirked at your honesty. He stepped closer to you, sliding his arms around your waist while you rested yours on his shoulders. 

“Then I better take advantage hmm,” he said, eyes flickering down to your lips. Before you could protest, his lips were on yours, moving steadily as he found comfort in you. His hands started to dip lower, and you swatted them, causing him to smile against you. 

When you pulled back, you gave him an irritated look, and he pouted. 

“Come on princess, I just need you,” he admitted and your heart clenched at his words. You knew he was holding on to you like a lifeline and he knew you’d do anything to be there for him. 

“Fine, then let’s get a room hot shot,” you said, dragging him off the balcony and towards the front of the venue. Ja’Marr gave you a teasing wave goodbye and you flipped him off. 

Joe chuckled at your gesture, his hand laced tightly with yours as you maneuvered through the crowded room. The whispers and knowing smirks from his teammates didn’t faze him in the slightest, but you could feel your cheeks heating up again.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” you muttered as you both stepped outside, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Immensely,” Joe replied, his grin only widening. “Can’t let them think I’m a robot all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. Once you reached the car, Joe opened the door for you with a flourish, earning an eye roll that turned into a laugh. He climbed in after you, wasting no time pulling you back into his lap.

“Joe,” you started to protest, but he silenced you with another kiss, this one softer, less teasing, and more vulnerable.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips when he finally pulled back, his voice low and sincere. “For putting up with me tonight. For everything.”

Your heart softened as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Always, Joe. I’ve got you.”

His smile this time wasn’t the playful smirk you were used to. It was small, genuine, and filled with gratitude. You let yourself lean into him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the chain around his neck as the driver started the car.

For all the teasing and awkwardness of the night, you knew one thing for certain: Joe Burrow might not be big on PDA most of the time, but when he let his guard down like this, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Maybe that sparks a bit of inspiration: Single dad Sirius Black who is freshly together with reader (I don’t know what else can happen haha)

The Godson

sirius black x reader - the godson

word count: 3.5k

summary: after a month of dating y/n finally meets sirius’s godson (and adopted son)

warnings: kissing, mostly fluffy lol

a/n: this is set in an au where peter was captured before he could fake his death and was sent to azkaban instead of sirius. as godfather sirius gets custody of harry. i’m really glad this was a single dad sirius and not single mom y/n bc i’m lowkey afraid of children and pregnancy lol

     The clock chimed seven as Y/N stood outside the door of 12 Grimmauld Place, her hand hovering just above the door knocker. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. The house before her looked nothing like she had imagined. Its weathered black brickwork and faintly foreboding aura reminded her of something out of a gothic novel. Yet, as imposing as it seemed, she reminded herself that Sirius lived here. That thought brought a small, reassuring smile to her lips.

     She raised her hand and knocked firmly. The sound echoed in the quiet, and she shuffled slightly on the doorstep, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her coat. A moment later, the door creaked open, and there he was—Sirius Black, all sharp features and unruly dark hair, wearing a casual button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His usual confident smirk was replaced with something softer, almost unsure.

     “You made it,” he said, his voice warm but carrying an edge of nervousness.

     “Of course I did,” Y/N replied, tilting her head slightly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

     Sirius chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair as if he were searching for the right words. “No reason. Just—well, this is a bit new for me, isn’t it?”

     She raised an eyebrow, sensing his nerves. “You alright?”

     He let out a breath and then pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. “I am now,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. The simple affection melted away some of her tension, and she allowed herself to relax against him.

     When he pulled back, there was a twinkle of humor in his gray eyes, though the slight hesitation remained. “Come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through.

     Y/N stepped over the threshold, her gaze sweeping over the narrow entryway. The house was as dark and mysterious on the inside as it was on the outside. The wallpaper was faded, and the air carried a faint chill, but there were glimpses of warmth—a vase of fresh flowers on a side table.

     “It’s… cozy,” she said carefully, trying not to seem impolite.

     Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “That’s a generous way to put it.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. Harry’s in the sitting room. He’s been playing with his toys all day, so don’t be surprised if he’s a little shy at first.”

     Y/N nodded, her heart skipping slightly at the thought of meeting Sirius’s adopted son for the first time. This wasn’t just any casual introduction—Sirius had made it clear that Harry was his whole world, and meeting him felt like stepping into a new and important part of Sirius’s life.

     They walked down a short hallway and into the sitting room. The space was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a warm lamp in the corner. In the center of the room, a small boy with messy black hair sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by colorful wooden blocks. He was completely focused on the tower he was building, his little face scrunched up in concentration.

     “Harry,” Sirius said gently, his voice softening as he spoke to the boy. “Someone’s here to meet you.”

     Harry looked up briefly, his bright green eyes—the spitting image of his mother’s—glancing at Y/N before darting back to his father. He immediately scrambled to his feet and hid behind Sirius’s legs, clutching the fabric of his trousers tightly.

     Sirius laughed softly, bending down slightly to ruffle Harry’s hair. “Come on, kiddo. You don’t have to be shy. This is Y/N. Remember I told you about her?”

     Harry peeked out cautiously, his small hands still gripping Sirius’s legs.

     Y/N crouched down to his level, her voice gentle. “Hi, Harry. It’s really nice to meet you.” She smiled, trying to make herself as approachable as possible.

     Harry didn’t respond, his face half-hidden behind Sirius.

     Sirius straightened up and gave Y/N an apologetic smile. “He takes a little while to warm up to people. Give him a minute.”

     Instead of pushing Harry further, Sirius reached out and took Y/N’s hand, leading her toward the spot where Harry had been sitting. They knelt on the floor next to the half-built tower of blocks.

     “Alright, kiddo,” Sirius said, his tone light and encouraging. “Why don’t you tell Y/N about your tower? It looks pretty impressive.”

     Harry hesitated for a moment, still clinging to Sirius’s leg, but then his curiosity seemed to get the better of him. He let go and stepped closer, though he stayed partially behind Sirius.

     Y/N leaned forward, examining the tower with a playful seriousness. “Wow, did you build this all by yourself? It’s amazing!”

     Harry’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face. He nodded shyly.

     “It’s the tallest one I’ve made,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

     “Really?” Y/N said, her eyes widening in mock amazement. “You must be an expert builder. I could never make a tower this cool.”

      That seemed to do the trick. Harry stepped out from behind Sirius entirely, moving closer to his blocks. “I made it so it doesn’t fall over,” he said, a little louder this time. “See? If you push it like this—” He gave the side of the tower a gentle nudge, and it wobbled but didn’t topple. “—it stays up!”

     Y/N gasped, clapping her hands. “That’s so clever! How did you figure that out?”

     Harry beamed, the last traces of his shyness melting away as he began to explain the “secrets” of building sturdy towers. His words tumbled out in an excited stream, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

      Sirius watched the two of them, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. He settled himself on the floor beside them, leaning back on his hands as Harry continued to chatter away to Y/N about his blocks and the other toys scattered around the room.

     Y/N glanced at Sirius briefly, her heart swelling at the sight of him so at ease with his son. He caught her gaze and gave her a wink, as if to say, See? Told you he’d come around.

     Sirius cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “I’m going to grab us some drinks. Will you be alright with Harry for a few minutes?”

     Y/N glanced up at him with a smile. “Of course. Take your time.”

     He hesitated for just a fraction of a second, as if double-checking whether she meant it. Then he gave a small nod and pushed himself to his feet. “You behave for Y/N, yeah?” He said as he passed Harry.

     Harry looked up at him and nodded solemnly.

     As Sirius disappeared into the kitchen, Y/N leaned back on her hands, watching as Harry carefully adjusted the top of his tower. The room was quiet for a moment, the soft sound of the blocks clicking together the only noise.

     Then, with a sudden burst of energy, Harry stood up and darted to the end table near the couch. Y/N straightened slightly, curious as to what he was up to.

     “Look!” Harry exclaimed, holding something tightly in his small hand as he ran back toward her.

     “What’s that, Harry?” Y/N asked, sitting upright as he plopped down onto the floor beside her.

     With great care, Harry opened his chubby fist to reveal a small Polaroid photograph. He held it up proudly, his face beaming. “It’s you!” he declared.

      Y/N blinked in surprise and leaned forward to get a closer look. She reached out and gently took the photo from his hands, her eyes widening as she recognized it immediately.

     It was from about two months ago— a couple weeks before they started dating— at one of the small get-togethers Sirius and his friends seemed to have so often. She remembered the evening clearly—the room had been filled with laughter and warmth, she had been next to Sirius almost the entire night. Remus had been in rare form, cracking joke after joke. 

     The photo was taken when Remus had accidentally hit the shutter on his camera. Y/N was mid-laugh, her hand resting on Sirius’s shoulder, clearly reacting to something ridiculous Remus had said. Her head was tilted slightly, her eyes crinkled with amusement. But what caught her attention wasn’t herself—it was Sirius. He was looking at her as if she were the only person in that room. 

     Y/N let out a soft laugh, though her voice wavered slightly. “Where did you find this, Harry?” she asked, her tone light but curious.

     “Uncle Sirius keeps it here,” Harry said matter-of-factly, pointing back toward the end table.

     “He does, does he?” Y/N murmured, her lips curving into a small smile. She turned the photo over in her hand, noticing that the back was blank—no date, no scribbled note. Just the image itself.

     Harry nodded enthusiastically, clearly proud of his discovery. “Do you like it?”

     “I do,” Y/N said, her voice warm. “It’s a great picture.”

     Just as she finished speaking, a sound came from the doorway. She glanced up to see Sirius standing there, two glasses in his hands. He had paused mid-step, his eyes flicking between her and the photo she still held. His cheeks were dusted with the faintest hint of pink, and for a moment, he looked almost sheepish.

     “Ah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I see Harry showed you his favorite picture.”

     Y/N raised an eyebrow, holding the photo up slightly. “His favorite?”

     He let out a short laugh, walking into the room and setting the glasses down on the coffee table. “Our favorite,” he said, the blush on his face deepened.

     Y/N didn’t press him further, but her smile widened. She set the picture on her lap, her fingers lightly brushing its edge as Sirius crouched down beside Harry.

      “Alright, kiddo,” Sirius said, his voice softening as he focused on his son. “It’s time for bed.”

      Harry immediately groaned, flopping onto his back in a dramatic show of protest. “But I’m not tired!”

     “Hmm,” Sirius said, tilting his head. “That’s funny, because I could’ve sworn I saw you rubbing your eyes just five minutes ago.”

     “I wasn’t!” Harry insisted, though his argument was half-hearted at best.

     Sirius chuckled and reached out to scoop the boy into his arms, lifting him effortlessly. “Come on, mate. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

     Harry pouted but didn’t resist, resting his head against Sirius’s shoulder. As they made their way toward the door, Sirius glanced back at Y/N, his expression softening.

     “Won’t be long,” he said.

     “It’s alright,” Y/N replied, her tone light.

     Once they were gone, the room fell quiet again. Y/N let out a small breath, her gaze drifting back to the photo still on her lap. She studied it for a moment longer before carefully placing it back on the end table.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     Reaching Harry’s room, Sirius nudged the door open with his foot. The room was cozy, filled with all the comforts a child could want—soft blankets, a well-loved stuffed stag that Harry refused to sleep without, and shelves lined with books and toys. The walls were painted a calming blue, and enchanted stars hung above the bed, softly twinkling.

     Sirius lowered Harry onto the bed, careful not to jostle him too much. Harry let out a sleepy little sigh as Sirius tucked him in, pulling the blankets up snugly around him.

     “There we go,” Sirius murmured, brushing a strand of dark hair from Harry’s forehead. “All nice and cozy. You should sleep like a dragon tonight.”

      Harry giggled softly, his eyes fluttering open to look at Sirius. “Dragons don’t sleep,” he said, his voice quiet but insistent.

     “Of course they do,” Sirius replied, settling on the edge of the bed. “How else do you think they get their energy to fly around and breathe fire all day?”

     Harry considered this for a moment before nodding, satisfied with the answer. His tiny hands clutched the stuffed stag tightly, and he wriggled slightly to get comfortable.

     “Uncle?” Harry’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

     “Hmm?” Sirius replied, leaning back against the headboard, his gaze warm as he watched Harry.

     “Is Y/N gonna be my new mummy?”

     The question hit Sirius like a gust of wind, unexpected but not entirely surprising. He blinked, momentarily unsure of how to respond. Harry’s green eyes—so much like Lily’s—stared up at him, wide and innocent, waiting for an answer.

     Sirius chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, mate,” he said gently. “Y/N’s not your mummy.”

      Harry frowned slightly, hugging the stuffed stag closer. “But… she’s really nice,” he said, his voice laced with the kind of earnestness only a child could muster.

     “She is,” Sirius agreed, his lips curving into a small smile. “She’s very nice.” He reached out to ruffle Harry’s hair, earning a quiet giggle. “But your mummy is Lily, remember? She and your dad loved you so much, and that’s never going to change.”

     Harry nodded slowly, his little face thoughtful. “But you’re my daddy now, right?”

      Sirius felt his chest tighten at the question. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he looked down at Harry. “I’m your godfather,” he said after a moment. “That means I get to take care of you and keep you safe.”

     Harry nodded sleepily, his eyelids starting to droop.

      Sirius reached out and gently patted Harry’s shoulder. “Now, close those eyes and get some rest.”

     Harry’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he finally let his eyes fall shut. Sirius sat there for a moment longer, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he drifted off.

     Standing, Sirius leaned down to press a light kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, kiddo,” he murmured before quietly slipping out of the room. 

     The soft creak of the floorboards signaled Sirius’s return long before Y/N saw him. She glanced up as he stepped into the sitting room, his dark hair slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it a few times. His gaze landed on her, and his lips curved into an easy smile that didn’t quite mask the faint trace of something thoughtful in his expression.

     “Harry’s out like a light,” he said, walking over to the couch and sinking into the cushions beside her.

     “That was fast,” Y/N replied with a small smile, shifting slightly to make room for him.

     “Four-year-olds don’t last long once they’ve decided to give in,” Sirius said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

     He leaned forward, reaching for the glass of whiskey he’d left on the coffee table earlier. But before he could take a sip, Y/N snatched it from his hand, her fingers brushing against his as she did.

     “Hey!” he protested, though his tone was more surprised than annoyed.

     Y/N raised the glass to her lips, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she took a small sip. “I’m thirsty,” she teased, handing it back to him with an innocent shrug.

     Sirius let out a laugh, a rich, warm sound that filled the room. “Stealing from a poor, hardworking man in his own home,” he said, shaking his head as he set the glass back down on the table.

     Before she could reply, he leaned back and looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer until her side was pressed against his. It was an easy, intimate gesture, and Y/N felt her heart give a little flutter at the warmth of his touch.

     For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet hum of the house wrapping around them. Then, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Sirius’s profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble, the way his dark eyes seemed lost in thought as he stared ahead.

     She reached up, gently brushing her fingers along his cheek to get his attention. When he turned to look at her, she leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to his lips.

     But he didn’t kiss her back.

     Y/N pulled away almost immediately, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I—”

    “No,” Sirius interrupted softly, his hand still resting on her shoulder. He sighed, shifting slightly so he could face her fully. His fingers moved to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing idly against her skin in slow, soothing strokes.

     Y/N searched his face, her brow furrowing. “Is everything alright?”

     Sirius hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting hers again. “I’ve just been thinking,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “Wondering if… if it was too soon for Harry to meet you.”

     “Oh,” Y/N said, her heart sinking slightly. She sat up straighter, creating a small distance between them. “I—I understand. If you think it was too soon, we can… I don’t know, maybe I could come over when he’s already in bed? Or we could spend time at my flat instead?”

     Her suggestion came quickly, almost too quickly, as if she were trying to fix something that didn’t necessarily need fixing. But Sirius shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

     “Maybe I was wrong,” he said, his voice softening.

     Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

     Sirius’s hand on the back of her neck slid upward, his fingers threading gently into her hair. At the same time, his other hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, resting against her waist. His touch was firm but not forceful, and the warmth of his palm against her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

     “I mean,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky tone, “maybe it’s good for Harry to have a feminine presence around here. Someone kind and patient who can put up with my nonsense.”

     Y/N’s breath hitched as his grip on her waist tightened, pulling her just slightly closer. Her hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

     “Sirius,” she began, her voice wavering, but he didn’t let her finish.

     His other hand slid further into her hair, his fingers curling gently as he pulled her in. When his lips met hers this time, it wasn’t soft or hesitant—it was urgent, almost desperate. Sirius kissed her like he was afraid to stop, like he was trying to convey something through the intensity of it that he couldn’t put into words.

     A soft moan escaped him, and the sound sent a wave of heat rushing through Y/N. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back, matching his fervor.

     The world outside seemed to disappear—there was only him, the warmth of his hands, the rough scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way his lips moved against hers with such precision it left her breathless.

     The warmth of Sirius’s hands against Y/N’s skin was intoxicating, his touch tender as his lips moved hungrily against hers. The room around them seemed to fade away. Sirius’s fingers trailed up her back, beneath her shirt, as he deepened the kiss.

     Y/N melted into him, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. His lips were insistent, as though he couldn’t get enough of her, and every now and then, a soft groan escaped him, reverberating against her lips and making her pulse race.

     But just as Sirius shifted to pull her fully into his lap, a small voice shattered the moment.

     “Uncle Sirius?”

     They sprang apart instantly, both turning toward the doorway where Harry stood clutching his stuffed stag, his dark curls messy from tossing and turning in bed. His wide eyes blinked at them sleepily, completely unaware of the moment he’d just interrupted.

     Sirius cleared his throat, running a hand through his tousled hair as he tried to compose himself. “Harry, what’s wrong, kid?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

     Harry shuffled into the room, dragging the stuffed toy along the floor. “I can’t sleep,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with a chubby fist.

     Y/N sat frozen on the couch, her cheeks still flushed and her heart pounding from the sudden interruption. She tried to calm herself, smoothing her hands over her lap as Harry climbed onto the couch beside Sirius.

     “What’s keeping you up?” Sirius asked, pulling Harry into his lap and brushing a hand through the boy’s unruly hair.

     Harry shrugged, and plopped himself right onto Y/N’s lap, his small hands clutching at her shirt as he snuggled against her.

     Y/N stiffened, her hands hovering awkwardly in the air. She glanced at Sirius, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

     Sirius’s brow furrowed slightly as he reached out, clearly noticing her hesitation. “Harry, maybe you should—”

     “It’s alright,” Y/N interrupted quickly, her voice soft but firm.

     She looked down at Harry, who had already settled against her like he belonged there. Slowly, cautiously, she placed her arms around him, her hands resting gently on his back. Harry let out a small, contented sigh, his grip on his stuffed stag loosening as his eyes began to droop.

     Sirius watched the exchange, his concern melting into something softer, something that made his chest tighten in the best way. He leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxing as he draped an arm over Y/N’s shoulder.

     “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with admiration.

     Y/N glanced up at him, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “He makes it easy,” she replied quietly, her fingers brushing lightly against Harry’s back.

     Sirius’s heart swelled at her words. For a moment, he simply watched them—Y/N holding his godson with such gentle care, Harry’s small form tucked safely in her arms. It was a picture of something he hadn’t realized he’d been longing for.

     As Harry’s breathing slowed and his grip on his stuffed animal went slack, Sirius leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Thank you,” he whispered, his lips lingering against her skin for a moment.

     Y/N didn’t respond, but the way she leaned into his touch told him all he needed to know.

[metaeori]

Ace is obsessed with how your body moves.

like genuinely, he can’t stop looking.

Your body infatuated Ace and he just can’t stop starting no matter what he does, his eyes are glued to you.

Warnings: semi suggestive themes

Not me writing this like it’s an ao3 one shot.anyway hope you enjoy! (MY SHAAYYLAAAA)

WC: (idk it won’t let me highlight it all LOL)

It all started when you were stretching on the open deck out in the sun. Your shirt slightly lifted as your arms raised up beyond your head, slowly revealing your toned stomach and arced back as your v-line was exposed just a smidge.

Ace just couldn’t stop looking, he was a fair distance away but that didn’t stop him from seeing it all in 4K. His eyes couldn’t peel away from your stomach and the way your shorts were suddenly so short on your hips. His mouth was practically ajaw, what was coming over him? This was ridiculous, this isn’t the old days we’re a women’s ankles were the most lewd things.

He felt like a little boy walking in on a girl by accident for the first time. And then just like that, the view was gone. You finished stretching and carried on doing whatever you were doing before. Ace quickly diverted his gaze back to the open sea behind him, trying to maintain his normal composure again. But that image of you just couldn’t get out of his head, and so that whole scene slowly devoured him like the plague. Slowly eating him everyday, at random times and random places.

Now his eyes couldn’t leave you no matter what you did; when you crossed your legs when you sat, when your fingers caressed the edges of paper of the book you were reading, and especially when you looked up to talk to him. He got a whole view how could he not stare right there… he tried to play it off so nonchalantly but it was pretty obvious he was looking to everyone but you. His eyes jerked and his words stumbled a little as he tried his best to respond to whatever you were yapping about.

However it only got worse when the two of you departed for some expedition, you of course were a gunslinger; your weapon? Why a sniper of course! You and ace were situated on top of some high building rooftop, with very little cover to stay low. Being the gunslinger you were it didn’t phase you, you just had to station yourself lower to be out of sight.

You clocked the gun from behind your back to your front starting to get down on your arms and knees. You then laid out on the ground pointing the sniper in the direction of the target. You lowered the lower half of your body to the ground more, with one knee up for better balance. Ace was behind you and loorrrd he was drooling, he tried to remain calm but he just couldn’t. Your body looked godly from this angle, his mind could only run wild with his imagination that was vividly showing many scenarios.

The heat was rising up in him, his eyes outlined your figure. Tracing your curves his eyes followed your stomach to where they turned into your hips and from there to your heightened knee. He gulped down the lump in throat as his eyes practically fondled you. Then he found his hands heading straight for your waist, it was so small he bet he could wrap just one of his hand around it. He was inches away, the burning feeling intensifying as he itched closer to your cool skin.

“Ace..? What are you doing?” A confused looked on your face as you peaked at him from your shoulder.

“Oh! Um..I was just looking at the surrounding for you!” He jerked back his hand so quickly and blurted out some excuse hoping you would buy it.

Which you did cause your stupid and believe anything Ace tells you. You gave him a puzzled look and turned you head to look back through the snipers scope, carrying on like there wasn’t a man fanning over your body behind you.

Ace let out a sigh of relief, this poor boy wasn’t gonna get over his obsession anytime soon. Nor did he want to really, he only hoped that more opportunities like this would present more of your figure for him to ravish.

[hees-mine]

The boy in my class - L.HS

Extended teaser

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cnc, pervert/stalker heeseung, bathroom sex, cursing, multiple orgasms, fingering, with animated pictures.

Genre: dubcon, if this bothers you please do not read!

WC: 2k+

-

Everything happened so fast. One minute, you were walking down the empty school hall headed home for the day, and the next moment, you felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around your torso from behind. The action caused you to miss your next step and sent you falling back into their chest.

Before you registered what was happening, your mouth was being cupped. You felt your body being dragged backward, and you couldn’t utter a word or scream for help.

You tried to grab onto something, anything, but it was futile as your nails scraped against the wall, chipping away the paint.

Your eyes are wide with panic, your muffled screams being heard by absolutely no one as you get taken to what you quickly identify as the school bathroom, and soon, your body is being maneuvered to face your captor.

In your state of panic, you didn’t even think about who it could have possibly been that snatched you out of the hallway, but when you see his face…..

It all came together.

The boy in your class.

Lee heeseung.

The guy who had a crush on you, the one who wrote love notes to you, the one who begged you to give him a chance, but you never did.

Simply because he was weird you’d catch him staring at you from afar following your same path on the way to school and one time he even sent a love letter to your house which you’re not sure how he got the address but luckily it only happened once so you didn’t bother to bring it up to anybody.

Not to mention his appearance wasn’t the most inviting. He was tall, lanky build, shaggy hair that nearly covered his eyes and was shaved on the sides. He wore big round frame glasses and didn’t take time to tie his tie properly or iron his school uniform.

To sum it all up, you just didn’t like Lee heeseung, and you never reciprocated any of his advances, which makes you wonder why he’s got you trapped inside a bathroom against your will, but he makes his intentions all too clear as he firmly presses himself against you.

Fear runs throughout your veins the moment you feel his bulge nudge against your core, and you want to scream, but your mouth is covered by his large palm. “Shh shh, it’s okay. I got you.” A tear runs down your cheek as you realize there’s no help for you in this situation. “No, don’t cry,” he coos, swiping the tear off your face. “Mnot gonna hurt you, just wanna make you feel good,” he whispers and kisses you on the cheek.

His free hand slides down to the button on his pants, quickly pulling down the zipper and letting the material fall to his ankles. Next comes his boxers.

His lower half is completely naked as his hard dick stands tall between his thin, tanned legs.

You try to tell him no, that you don’t want this, please stop, but nothing comes out of your mouth when you finally attempt to push him off. He just pushes you against the sink, leaving you no space to move. Your feeble attempts at pushing him off didn’t seem to deter him as he hiked up your skirt.

“Just let me do it. You’ll like it, I swear,” he murmured in your ear, your body shivering from how calm he sounded while you literally fought to get him to stop.

He grabbed the base of his thick cock, pressing himself on your core.

You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering when you felt him rubbing himself on the most private part of your body.

“See? It feels good, right?” He takes your cries for sounds of pleasure as he humps your clothed crotch.

You shook your head back and forth, but he didn’t notice, too lost in the pressure of finally having you the way he dreamed of having you, the way he imagined every night while touching himself.

“I’ll make you feel so good you’ll fall in love with me,” he speaks softly, resting his forehead against your own, holding your hip to keep you still while he ruts against your white cotton panties.

You attempt to close your legs, but it’s no use. Your body is at his mercy. “No, no, stay still f-for me.” he reaches down, pushing your legs apart.

Once he has you opened up for him, he grabs the crotch part of your panties, slipping them to the side so you can feel him better.

“See?” He breathes out his warm dick sliding through your wet folds. “You’re even getting wet for me. I know you, me. I know you want this.”

-

read full story only on my patreon!

[kismetlotts]

cw: angst, mentions of sex, best friend Simon Riley, mentions of knives, mentions of hurting yourself but no implications of actually doing so or having done in the past, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, clueless Simon Riley, crying in each others arms, helping out your best friend, reader is self less

part 2 of Best Friend Simon Riley Angst (I recommend reading part one first to understand certain elements better)

You woke up in the morning, daylight shining through your curtains and you already knew it wasn’t sunshine- bound to be nothing but grey clouds out there, flooding the sky like a polluted ocean. Your nose and head ached in the silent flood of last nights memories, your crying, your actions and worst of all, your best friend.

Oh Simon, what a dickhead you were. Why did you have to come here?

Your body flushed against the cold sheets behind you, a weightless bed, giving you the impression he’d done a runner. Typical him honestly- you wouldn’t be surprised if that was what initiated their breakup; the same breakup that was at fault for all of this.

He was always so forward, front and confrontational within the field. The notorious ‘Ghost’ that installs fear in every enemy he has to face. He’s a fighter at work but ironically, in life, all he knew was how to retreat. Pull away before he can cause anymore damage, pull out before the mess gets bigger.

You flung the covers off you, their pretty, pink, innocent pattern already making vomit surface in your throat. He’d flopped down on that bedding countless times in the past: memories which made it hurt more came to mind. The knives that were already jammed in your gut, heart and what’s seemed as your brain, twisting a little deeper before freezing up in place.

You remembered the times when his body would accidentally fling you around the mattress, grunting and smirking while he settle down and got comfy. You remembered the way his fingers tapped on the cotton as he leaned over to see what you were looking at on your phone. Nosy but never prying in too much.

Imagining how you looked when you watched his hand sweep across the duvet on movie night, pushing every crumb onto your bedroom floor with a laugh and an apology leaving his lips. His hands, shooting into the air as he surrendered in playful shame. Not really paying attention as your voice scolded him for eating in your bed.

Your fingers stripped the bedding from its covers. Tossing them into a pile on the floor beside your laundry basket, the sheets so stained with both of your sweat and dirt from the situation, your nose scrunched up at the sight. You left it there ready to put in the wash later.

Though, a part of you can’t help but wonder if they will ever feel as clean as they did before.

If they’ll ever give you the warm, comforting sensation you got every night before nodding off to sleep. Would you ever hear their soft cries to slip back in bed when you wake up early for work? The covers flopped back in agony, silently pleading for you to come back and have five more minutes?

No. Now they just feel like you never got out of that bed, the duvet still wrapped around your body keeping you hostage and forcing you to go about your day. The weight of everything on your shoulders enough for you to trip and fall on the material.

You’d burn them if they weren’t so big.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous, why the fuck did you let it happen anyway? The sex with him wasn’t anything like you’d wished or dreamed of nor would it have never been.

He didn’t love you but something inside you obviously can’t comprehend that. Every chance you get to show or pretend that the two of you were more than what you were- you’d leap for it: eyes sparkling with the same hope a lost kid has.

He used you last night and you let him like the pathetic, lovesick loser you always were. It wasn’t sex, it was nothing more than a mere distraction and waste of time. A waste of his time, more hassle just for him.

Your fingers wrapped around your smooth doorknob as you pushed open your bedroom door, trailing into the kitchen before an aroma of pancake batter and fresh baking gripped you by the throat. Your big eyes meeting Simons, his familiar, large figure pressed against your kitchen counter as he sucked on his bottom lip.

His face was pale and his brown pupils never left the plate of fucked up pancakes, left on a placemat on the table.

You laughed. You laughed because you couldn’t trust anything else to come out- You couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t break down crying, that you wouldn’t scream or hurt yourself in front of him, that you wouldn’t wince at this- idiotic gesture.

Was this an apology? Was this all you meant to him? A plate of sweet treats you’d have to force yourself to eat, to swallow down and help you forget everything bad that happened. Maybe, or perhaps it was pure coincidence it summed up his perspective of the night; perfectly.

“Did you make me pancakes?” The tremble and nerves in your voice was apparent and he nodded slowly, gesturing to the massive bag of groceries on the countertop.

“With berries and sugar on top. I’ve got some other things here though, chocolate- all kinds, some syrup and honey and other fruit in that bag if you want any. I just added berries because I know they’re your favourite.” He rambled on.

“When did I tell you that?” Your head turned to the side, twitching in uncertainty as you sat down in front of the plate. Eyes squinting as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You said when we…-oh.”

That’s not her, Simon.

His hand lifted to his eyes, rubbing them to avoid looking anywhere. The rise and fall of his chest grew faster and you just knew how is heart felt, flooding with guilt and embarrassment at his own actions.

Staying mad at him was hard when you knew him so well. Mistakes get made and feeling get trampled on but he wasn’t a bad person. That’s why you fell for him all that time ago.

The knife in your hand cut through the pancakes like butter, your posture up straight and distant from the plate while your appetite warned you not to bite. Your eyes flickered over to Simon again, seeing his hands still firmly placed over his eyes, broad shoulders retracted inwards as his body jolted in silent cries. The metal rattled against the table as you put the knife down and jumped out of your chair.

“Simon don’t do this-“ You spoke comfortingly, lunging over towards his body. Your soft skin met with the roughness of his arm but before you could say another word he shoved your body away from him.

A voice you’d never heard before coming out loud and brute, as you took a step back from his harsh rejection.

“Can you just fuck off trying to make me feel better constantly- I know i’ve fucked up and I know i’ve upset you. Stop acting like everything is alright when it isn’t, you do this every time- i’m not a kid!” His fist clawed at his shirt. Pulling it away from his chest as if he wanted to rip his heart out to stop the torture he was suffering.

Spit flew from his mouth and his eyes looked red, sunken with despair. Your voice died in your mouth, tongue soaking up all your saliva and you tried to swallow.

He was lost. He ruined the thing he needed the most- fucked about and caused chaos with his lifeline. You were his saviour and always had been. He didn’t need for you to fix his relationship or his problems, he needed you to fix him. He didn’t sleep with you to use you intentionally, it was a drunken mistake and a shitty timing.

He inhaled through his mouth, his throat croaking as he gripped the counter for stabilisation. Face was locked down to the floor, glued and staring at his shoes on your kitchen floor.

The drops of his tears on the black leather of his boots and the drops on your tiles reminding him of how pathetic he was being. He was a man, he worked in the military. He had slept with people before, cheated, and ruined relationships but nothing hurt like this hurt. Nothing knocked him down so hard he was afraid to get back up, he was afraid to lose you. Simon was scared.

“I made a mistake and I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I can even do to make it up to you- fucking pancakes- it is stupid I should know better and I should know what to do but I-” The whiteness in his knuckles disappeared as he lessened his grip on the counter. Hands falling to his side as he broke down on the spot.

The hard armour he lived in unraveling like flimsy pieces of ribbon. His wet eyelashes hitting his cheeks as he wiped his nose and face on the back of his wrist.

“I can’t think. I can’t be me without you here and I don’t know what to do, please, i’m so sorry just please come back to me. I know i’ve lost a part of you and I will fight until the end of day to get it back, but for now just let me have the rest back. I need my best friend back.” His hands met your lower back as you flung your arms around his neck, your own eyes dripping with tears of outrage and hurt but above all you needed Simon too.

You sobbed silently into his shoulder as he held you close to him finally getting his breathing back to normal. You bit your lips shut and breathed slowly so he couldn’t feel your body shake for air. You didn’t want him to realise how much you were struggling in his arms- how lost and abused you felt. You didn’t want your emotions to worsen his because he had to come first.

He’d lost the love of his life and he needs someone to be strong for him, help him get on his own feet. Be beside him with wide arms and a welcoming face. It wasn’t him being selfish, it was something you had to understand Simon to understand.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you hesitantly sat down and talked. It was a long talk hidden by cheap smiles and forced laughter but of course, he didn’t catch on. You let him speak, you gave him advice- hugged it out and as weeks passed by, the two of you were back to normality again.

He’d found a new girl quicker than you thought he wouldn’t, pretty girl and ironically she your figure and eye colour. The more you watched them interact the more they seemed to happy together, kissing, hugging, buying each other gifts. It felt just like how it was before.

Back to Simon and his lovesick best friend that will always be there for him even if he’s never there for her. Back to Simon and his awful dating life as he hops from one awful breakup to the next because they all are missing something.

All he wants, is girl with your hair colour. A girl with your eye colour and your smile. All he longs for is a girl that he can hold hands with but can also roll his eyes at when she teases him for being too cheesy. He wants a girl who can laugh and joke with him but still support him and by there for him in more ways than one. Not just a girlfriend but almost as if a best friend at the same time. That’s all he wants and asks the world for but for some reason she just isn’t out there for him.

And until he realises why he looks for you in every girl he meets. Until he steps back and opens his eyelids to everything right in front of him. She won’t ever be.

[preiyers]

Dad!Luigi beaming with pride at you holding your daughter in the nursery. You’re so tired and feel so ugly but he says you’re the most beautiful he’s ever seen you in that moment and he thanks you for giving him Sunny😭😭😭

♱ BABYDOLL — DAD!LUIGI MANGIONE X READER

A/N: also added reader and luigi naming her in this <3

it has been 30 minutes since you gave birth to your and luigi's daughter. the nurses have placed her in a small crib inside your room while you fixed the details for her birth certificate.

you felt so tired. besides the lack of sleep, your legs were sore from keepinh them up and open, you could feel the stretch in your cervix, and your throat felt strained.

luigi saw your eyes threatening to close so he took over the papers and everything you had to deal with.

but, one important part of the birth certificate was your child’s name.

the pair of you hadn’t gotten to a decision before the birth other than the fact that you wanted her name to come from something the two of you have in common or one that has a part of you.

he was seated on the chair next to your bed, clipboard, and pen in hand as he filled up the information.

"what about ash?" he looked up at you, tapping the pen against his chin.

"babe, we are not naming our first child after a pokemon character." you stifled out a laugh despite how tired you were.

you felt your eyes about drop any second but an idea came up on your mind.

"sunny," you tell him, the sun seeping out the curtains of your hospital room. luigi's quick to get up from his seat and move the curtain.

"i know, the sun is up so early today." he responds and walks by your bed, checking if everything was set up okay before his eyes made its way to your face.

"come up here, lay with me," you told him, scooting over to give him some space to lay on.

there was a tight-lipped smile on his face as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before he got on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his warm body.

"you're so beautiful," and you couldn't help but chuckle at his words, knowing you probably looked your worst today. you felt the gunk in your eyes as you blinked, your lips dry, and considering you’ve been in the hospital for almost two days now, your hair was probably oily and clumped up. "i'm serious alright"

he places his other hand on your chin and then pecks your lips. "you're always so beautiful," he pecks your cheek. "especially today, i can't even imagine how painful it was to be carrying a whole other being in your body and having to push it out as well,"

the adoration he had for you was evident in his voice. he bit his lip as he started to feel the tears well up in his eyes. "you're so strong... and i can't thank you enough for giving me our daughter."

you take his hand in yours and place a peck in the innermost of his palm.

"what's gotten into you, lu?" you tease, your voice soft and he chuckles before shaking his head and wiping the tears that have fallen.

"can't i just admire my wife?" you just smile up at him and now, he was propped up on the bed properly with an arm around you and a hand over your stomach, where your baby used to settle.

silence filled the room. it was comfortable and very much needed after the rough 48 hours the two of you had in the hospital.

his hands fiddled with the blanket as he let you rest.

"also... i meant to say sunny could be her name," you moved your head to look at him and his eyes light up.

"i mean we did meet in hawaii, the sun was always up there and we both love the beach," you trailed on and he just smiled at your words before he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"alright, sunny mangione it is."

TAGLIST !

@fuckitiloveyouu @meikoismartha @strawbxrryaxolotyl @ilovetoomanymen @onlyangelicc @for-lovers-always @freeluigihesbae

lmk if u wanna be a part of the taglist

[writingroom21]

Stepbro Rafe talking you through it

A/N: Finally feeling better and was so excited when I saw this! Got me in the writing mood so fast

“Rafe.” A moan slips past your lips. His eyes flick up to look at you. The sun casting a glow behind you causes him to squint his eyes from the intensity. He hums around your clit as he keeps sucking it. 

Today was a hot day in Outer Banks and Rafe thought it was a good idea to take out the boat. The idea was posed as a bonding activity for the two of you since your mom and his dad keep hounding you. They think that since the two of you are step-siblings that you need to get along. Well this probably isn’t how they imagined it but it was one hell of a way to do it.

The moment the boat was far enough that no one could see, he was on you. “They want us to get along. I think I got the perfect thing for us to do.” Your shorts were tossed aside and your bikini bottoms were pushed to the side. Even though you were reluctant, your thighs spread open for him. His tongue teased your folds before he dived in like a man starved. “Fuck baby, taste like heaven.” You let out a moan at his words, moving your hips. The friction from his tongue as you glide your hips to match his pace.

“If I had a last meal it would be this pretty pussy. Look at how she drools for me.” Rafe takes a moment to stare at your folds, catching the way you clench around nothing. His right hand moves up the inside of your thigh. Placing his thumb on your clit, he moves in soft circles. The barely there touch short circuits your brain. All of the worries of someone catching you dying down in the back of your brain. “Rafe, I.”

When your words are cut off with a moan Rafe laughs. He audibly laughs in your face as you can’t help but to moan. “It’s okay princess. Feels good right?” You can hear the ruffling of his pants as he pulls them down. Using his left hand he lazily jerks himself off as he fingers you. “Mmmm.” Light kisses are placed on your lower abdomen trailing all the way down to your clit again. The combination of his fingers and lips could be lethal.

“I can feel you squeezing the shit out of me.” He hissed as he pulled his fingers out again. Kneeling between your legs he replaces his fingers with his cock. Your walls flutter around him violently as he pushes his way in. Resting his forehead on your shoulder he takes a deep breath in trying not to cum. His thumb strokes your clit, building up the orgasim that keeps refusing to happen. “Just relax princess, let me take care of you.”

Slowly he thrusts into you. It’s a steady slow pace so you can feel every inch of him. The boat rocks with each movement. The sound of water splashing along the sides fills your ears as a tingle forms in your lower abdomen. “That’s it.” Rafe murmurs along your skin. His teeth sink into your skin as he holds back his moans. He wants to hear you, feel you, know that he’s the one who broke you. “Feel so fucking good. Your pussy keeps pulling me back in.” A loud moan comes from you.

A smile spreads across his face and he moves into your view so you can see. Holding your cheeks, he forces you to look at him. “Eyes on me princess. You like it when I use you right?” He uses his grip to nod your head as you moan. “I know you do. Like knowing that your stepbrother is the only one who could fuck you properly.” You clench hard around but still you teeter on the edge of an orgasim.

“I wonder what your mom would say seeing how much of a whore you are. Practically begging me to knock you up.” Your whole body goes numb as your orgasim racks through you. Moans keep falling from your lips as the pleasure feels never ending. “There you go. Did such a good job for me.” You wrap your arms around him as he keeps thrusting into you. Each thrust prolongs your orgasim until you are jelly in his arms.

“That’s it, relax. I got you.” His hand pushes some hair away from your face and he places a kiss on your forehead. “Fuck you feel so good. I’m about to cum.” A few more thrust and he’s pulling out. Ropes of his cum covers your skin and he massages it in. “Don’t worry next time, I’ll fill you up.” A finger soaked in cum makes its way back inside you. A small part of him is satisfied that he got you to break and now there’s a piece of him left behind.

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07 @akobx @starkeysbebe

[heartmaddie]

bodyguard! sae itoshi x princess! reader incl; use of 'princess' (reader is a princess) , hurt/comfort , fluff , reader lives in switzerland for some reason (le rosey)

wc; 829

Sae, out of everybody else, knew how overwhelming life was for you. The imagined perception of a life filled with glamour, fame and luxury didn’t come as easy for you than it did others. Having many fans and supporters felt unreal, but the select moments where all you’d wish for were to shield yourself from the limelight almost made you want to leave your Royal status behind for eternity.

“Careful,” His left hand gripped the top of the vehicle door, protecting your head from bumping against the glass as his right ushered you inside, brushing against the thin fabric of your lower back. “Don’t hit your head.”

Cerulean eyes grazed your figure, with pink muscle tugged into a pout, his chest couldn’t help but ache silently for you. He would never admit it - but perhaps there was a part of his strictly professional relationship with you that extended past the realm, which would be considered appropriate for a princess and her guard.

“Sae?” Your voice was uncharacteristically soft, void of the expression your melody would usually carry, “Are we going back to Switzerland tonight?” He could tell that, in your bottomless eyes, all you wanted to do was leave.

Your voice caught his attention immediately, gaze flickering towards you as the driver began to commute back to the hotel you were staying at. The sound of his name, in a much less confident tone, gnawed at the extreme efforts he took to remain stoic. 

“No, we’ll leave early in the morning.” He replied shortly, keeping the resignation out of his tone.

Maybe it was the way you had confided in him, how in the late hours of the night you would whisper your wishes of someone to properly care for you into his ear, which made him reach out for your hand.

Pale, slender fingers wrapped tightly around yours, almost consoling as his thumb began to stroke gently against your skin. To put it simply, Sae had his own way of comforting you, soft kisses pressed against your forehead, how he knew exactly when to tug you into his arms right before your eyes welled with tears. You found it more loving than the attention you had received from your parents.

“What are you thinking of, Princess?” His voice was freshly picked gardenia tucked behind your ear. Neither of you knew if the nickname was simply due to your status or something more personal, affectionate. 

“Nothing, it’s not important.”

And that was it, he didn’t pry further.

⟡ ݁₊ .

It was only when phosphorescence illuminated the walls of the joint hotel room that he saw you again. Manicured fingers tugged at the fabric of his sleepwear, his eyes opened instinctively.

“Princess? Did something happen?” His voice was alarmed, but still groggy as he sat up quickly, eyes gazing all over the room before landing on you. Through his exhaustion, tense brows softened as his back relaxed. 

“Can’t get to sleep?” He asked, voice hushed as slim fingers brushed stray hair from your face. His lips were slightly parted, and your gaze couldn’t bare to break from them.

“Yeah,” you mumbled while nodding, letting go of the white fabric before his hand comes down to stop you, “Is it okay if I…?”

Sae could feel his heart clench silently within his chest with just how small your voice was. He wasn’t accustomed to hearing you ask for permission, but he was certain he would do anything to see you sleep comfortably. He nodded silently, his hand remaining around yours as he guided you to slide into the warm embrace of his sheets, keeping you close, but still at arms length.

Sae bit back the smirk which fought to appear as he watched blood adorn soft cheeks as you looked up at him, before abruptly turning over.

He moved forward, sliding over the smooth sheets to settle right behind you. His eyes trailed up and down your silhouette through the sheets, you looked fragile, almost vulnerable, so different to how others would recognise you, but so familiar to him.

Your body was pulled against his chest, biceps wrapping against your sides and tucking you right underneath his neck, you felt every inch of your skin ignite.

“Sae, we really shouldn’t…” You murmured, looking back at him but making no effort to escape from his grasp. It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel safe within his embrace.

“I think we both know that our relationship extends professional bounds, Princess.” His voice was raspy, whispered into the hollow of your ear before burrowing his nose into strands of hair. “Go to sleep now, I’ll keep you safe.”

Sae’s voice was concentus against your ears, alleviating the weight of your chest as you could finally relax against him. No gratitude fell from your lips, they couldn’t even begin to form before your eyes ultimately shut for the night, his breath fanning against your neck.

You weren’t as alone as you had originally believed.

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work. submission for @phantasmaebg

[msbyslilbimbo]

pervy neighbor!isagi who is so excited when you ask him to come and kill a spider for you because it makes him feel wanted and closer to you and that sends signals straight between his legs.

the spider is tiny, a teeny thing, but to know it’s causing you distress and isagi is the one you came to to fix it?? and not the guy he’s been hearing you smash for the past few months? his dick twitches in his sweats.

“you’re the best!” you chirp as he squishes the spider and cleans up the wall, beaming up at him while he flushes the tissue down the toilet. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, and he becomes hyper aware of your tits smooshed against his body.

he chuckles and pats your back, “anything for you,” he assures. you hum and make your way out of the room, and just as he’s about to follow, his eyes fall on your lacy, pale blue underwear, with a comical bow in the center and fuck, he imagines your pretty hips curving out the fabric. the curve of your ass stretching the cloth thinner, the way your navel sits above it- he wonders if you’re sensitive there. he can imagine his beefy hand trapped between your legs as you writhe in pleasure, the band of those panties keeping his palm and fingers close to you, buried deep inside of you and gathering your pussy juice, soaking it up for him to indulge in later.

he swallows thickly. he looks around. he gnaws his lip, his eyes fall back onto the fabric. it’s crumpled, so they’re dirty, and he can only imagine the divine smell lingering in them. he sighs and makes his way out of your bedroom, shaking his head at himself.

but he can’t help himself. he can’t. he’s no better than any other man. he snipes your panties from the hamper. he jams them into his sweatpants pocket, and he’s grateful for how deep they are to conceal the stolen item from you. when you enter his vision again, all he can do is see you in those pretty blue panties, pussy warming the fabric between decadent thighs.

“you’re really the best, isagi,” you mewl, bowing your head for him. “i won’t keep you anymore! im sure you’re busy. hopefully no more spiders come around!” you giggle.

“if they do, you know where to find me,” he promises, waving to you as he leaves your apartment, mouth watering as his left pocket is just barely heavier than the right from his little payment weighing in it.

the minute he gets home, he’s locking the door behind him, free hand jamming into his pocket for the panties. he brings them up to his nose and takes a deep inhale in. your musk is laced into the fabric, sweet like honey and clean, and his mouth waters. he leans against the door and shoves his hand down his sweatpants, squeezing his cock through his boxers and his eyes cross as the mixture of sensations.

the smell in his nose, the feel of lace in his hands, fuck, the taste as he suckles on the crotch, he’s the worst he’s the fucking worst, and he ruts into his hand that tugs his cock out of his boxers and over the waistband of his sweats. he strokes himself right there and then, teeth digging into his lip to hide his moans and grunts of pleasure being punched into the air with every chance it has.

he’s not proud of the way he paints his fist with cum, the tightness of his grip white with jizzy froth and beads of sweat gathering at his hairline and brows pinched in his forehead as he cums hard and fast with the help of some dirty panties.

but he’s not done. the way his dick twitches at the idea of you wearing these panties for him proves to him he’s not done with himself.

his head thunks against the door as he pants in the air, smirking softly to himself as he drops his arm down, freeing him from your scent. he swallows thickly and makes his way to the bedroom to continue what he’s started.

and hey. if a spider does come around to terrorize you again, it’s only fair that he takes another little pair of panties from you, a little token of appreciation you don’t know you’ve given him 🩵

[sethsclearwater]

Congrats on 5k! I’m so proud of you! This blog is everything that one could ask for. For the celebration, just imagine an embry x reader fic where they start off as friends, and she can’t tell that he likes her back. Until he comes to her house one day tells her that he tells her that he likes her back and that it was practically fate (bc the imprinting thing). And then they passionately start to make out due to their feelings being pent up for so long and … 🤭 you can go as deep into the ending (with smut) as you like. But it’s just an idea

so cutie!! i loveeeeeee this!!

...

"you promise paul or jared or whatever one of those guys you've been hanging out with didn't put you up to this?" you asked, gaze flickering between embry's eyes and your driveway as you tried to subtly peer over his shoulder to try and see if paul or whoever was secretly hiding in embry's car and just waiting for you to be the punchline in one of their latest pranks.

embry let out a soft sigh, shaking his head, "promise no one put me up to this," he reassured, holding your gaze for a moment before he looked over his shoulder to try and figure out what exactly you were looking at.

you blushed a deep crimson when you realized he'd noticed, "jus' wanted to make sure they weren't out there recording this or something," you whispered, gaze shifting to the floor as you tried to figure out a way to hide from the relentless embarrassment that seemed to be hijacking your entire system at the moment.

embry frowned, stepping through the doorway of your home so he could close the door behind him, "'s just me, promise," he reassured, sighing when you didn't lift your gaze.

realizing you were definitely beating yourself up about your hesitation over the whole imprinting bomb he just dropped on you, he decided to take matters into his own hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to his chest.

before you could open your mouth to protest, he pressed his lips to your hair, "don't start," he mumbled against your hair, squeezing you as tightly as he could without concern of hurting you.

despite the stress written all over your features, you let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, just happy to know you finally had your best friend back.

although the two of you had hugged plenty often and even cuddled on more than one occasion, you still had a hard time believing that he saw you the same way you saw him.

"you promise you're not lying?" you mumbled against his chest after a few moments of silence and embry just rolled his eyes despite knowing you couldn't see it.

realizing you definitely weren't going to let up until he figured out a surefire way to prove it to you, he lifted his head from yours, taking one hand to gently prompt you to look up at him, "can i kiss you?" he asked, smiling when he saw the way your eyes changed as your brain short circuited for a good 3 seconds while you tried to figure out how to respond to him.

"can you-" you started, pausing as you tried to figure out the words to say next, your cheeks heating up again as you studied his gaze, "you can," the words had barely left you before embry's lips were on yours.

your fingers tightened against his t-shirt, melting into him as he backed you into the wall, clearly intent on proving to you just how much he meant that you were his imprint.

embry's hands slid down to your hips, gently squeezing them as the two of you melted into each other, "are you-" the words coming out of your mouth were muffled by the way embry's lips were still on yours but he'd managed to hear enough anyway.

"i'll swear to god i'll take you right here and now if that's what it takes to prove to you i'm not lying pretty thing," his voice was breathless as he rested his forehead against yours, his expression not even giving you the slightest indication that he was messing with you.

"right now?" you whispered back, the butterflies in your belly suddenly taking over your brain as you finally let go of the anxiety you had and instead focused on just how badly you wanted him.

"right now," embry reassured, not wasting any time picking you up to take you to your room when you nodded.

[thatgirlsworld36]

Jobe Bellingham nsfw alphabet

(minors DN!!!)

TW: NSFW themes; read it only if you will feel comfortable. English is not my first language. 

Enjoy <3

A= Aftercare(what they're after sex)

Jobe is the sweetest after it. The only thing he wants to do is keep you close in his arms. But first he always makes sure you are alright because sometimes things can get pretty rough.

His head is buried in your hair/neck and whisper praises in your ear such as “You did so good for me” “My sweet girl was made for me” etc. , while his hands are all over your body, dragging his thumb and fingers over all your moles and scars trying to help your poor body relax.

After some time he gets up to run you a bath or to order food if you are hungry. Everything you want and desire. But if you two are too tired he will just put a blanket over you two naked bodys(did i hear round two in the morning??) and just fall asleep with you in his arms.  

B= Body part(their favorite body part and also their partner's)

I just KNOW this man can’t choose between your boobs and ass. He doesn’t care what their sizes are or the way they look. He just can’t imagine a day without having his palms over your breasts using them as a “stress relief balls” as he says or slapping your ass every now and then when he somehow end up behind you(always do it intentionally)

But he also like your eyes. He always says that they are magnetic and they make him all wrapped over your finger with just one look. He also like them when you roll your eyes back during it…

For him- his smile. For sure. He just love how he can make you smile almost every time with only him smiling.(I mean have we seen his smile?? I’m all folded every single time…) I think he also like his palms and fingers. He just love how small your hands look in his because of his pretty high height for a football player.

C= Cum(anything to do with cum basically)

Inside. Sometimes in your mouth. I don’t think he is a big fan of coming on your face or your back/tummy(not like he doesn't do it sometimes). He just prefers to watch how his sperm is dripping from your cunt or all down your chin. When he finish he always stay there a little longer just to make sure that everything will stay there(did i hear a little breeding kink?)

D= Dirty secret(pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret they desire)

Jobes dream is to fuck you in his brothers bed. He can’t explain why. He has always felt suppressed because of Jude so he wants to know that HE was able to make you cum there and then Jude to don't know, makes Jobe go insane. He will never tell you tho…

E= Experience(how experienced are they?)

Here is the thing, I don't think Jobe is very experienced. I mean you were not his first but he doesn’t have many bodies before you. He has always given his best to train and leave his brother's shadow so he “kept it in his pants”.

F= Favorite position(again, pretty self explanatory)

Missionary. May seem boring but he wants to watch your eyes and every little expression you make. That also gives him almost all of the control. He loves how you dig your nails into his back and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.  So yeah, he prefers it that way. 

G= Goffy (are they more serious in the moment? do they joke during it?)

I think he will be more serious when he is angry after he loses a game or something like that. But at the other time he will crack jokes. Like all the time, but not too much. You got me?

H= Hair(how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc)

He has a considerable amount of hair there, curly and dark. He doesn't care much about things like that, but if you want him to shave it all or at least a little bit he would. Jobe doesn't want it to be unpleasant for you when you're giving him a head, so you can tell him to shave it if you wanna.

He also doesn’t care if you are shaved or not. Whatever makes you comfortable. 

I= intimacy(how intimate are they during it?)

Jobe's a very romantic guy, even when he's dominating you. He is always talking to you through it and the eye contact with him is on another level.

J= Jack off(masturbation headcanon)

It happens sometimes. Since you two are together he almost stopped doing it. But sometimes when he is away for a game or you just simply can’t be with him at that moment and he is turned on by something(probably you were teasing him over a chat or he was looking at your pictures for a little too long) he “break” the tension.

K= Kink(one or more of their kinks)

Don’t come at me, but i think that under his sweet nature he is in some freaky shits.

Something like SLIGHT bondage because he have all the power and I think he needs to feel like most of the things are in his hands.

Praises because let’s be honest he for sure have a little complexes because of Jude.(and this is so sad) So you shouldn't forget to tell him how good he’s making you feel. But don’t worry he will also praise you. 

SLIGHTLY overstimulation and edging. I don’t want to talk about that. I just feel it like this(argue with the wall) 

Dom-sub. Again, for I don't know which time- he NEED to know he have the power. That something deppend on his, that HE is someone…(poor him)

But let's not forget he won’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable. 

L= Location(favorite place to do it)

Mostly in his bed. This man is trying to keep his life private as possible, so he won’t risk so much to do it in public where you two can get caught.

Also in his car during the night when everything is dark and the chance someone sees you is not so big. 

M= Motivation(what turns them on?)

You. You breathing, you eating, you reading…just you existing. But ESPECIALLY when you are wearing some of his shirts or sweaters. 

N= No(something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Anything that can actually hurt you. Yes, he like when things get pretty rough, but no, he won’t make you suffer and feel pain for a long period of time. Also if he sees that you are even slightly uncomfortable during something new you two try he will immediately stop. 

O= Oral( preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc..)

This man LOVE to eat you out. I think the word was munch? He can spend all day and all night between your thighs doing the same thing over and over. He also love when you are giving him head. The way you look down on your knees looking with watery eyes up to him makes him go INSANE. 

P= Pace(are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

When you first started doing it he was slow and really gentle. He was scared that he could accidentally hurt you. When you told him you will be okay he started going harder. But it also depends on the mood. Sometimes he just needs a rough fuck after a rough practise and  sometimes he just wants to hold you and take things slow.

Q= Quickie(their opinions on quickies, how often etc..)

It’s not his favorite but sometimes if you have somewhere to be and one of you want it he is down. But he prefers the normal sex so he can have more time for everything. 

R= Risk(do they take risk? How far are they ready to go?)

As I said he doesn’t want to risk someone catching you and make you feel uncomfortable. But let’s say that you two have done it once or twice in the stadium after a bad football game…

S= Stamina(how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

Normally around 2-3 rounds, he would go for ages until you cum at least twice. This man has been an athlete his whole life so he know how to don’t get tired so easily. 

T= Toys(do they own toys? do they use them?)

He doesn't own any, but you have a few. He'll use them on you every now and then, but he wants to be the one pleasuring you, not some toys. 

U= Unfair(how much do they like to tease?)

Oh this man is a tease. He will probably overstimulate you or not let you cum until he says so. But you know it will be worth it in the end. 

V= Volume(how loud they are during it?)

Loves to talk dirty. He's always whispering stuff in your ear. Jobe does not scream or moan very loudly but he does gasp and moan softly, sometimes he can even whimper or grunt gutturally.

W= Wild card(a random headcanon)

One time you two made a bet  that you can last longer than him without sex. This became a two weeks long bet of nothing but teasing and touching, trying to make the other one crack. Jobe cracked first, he couldn't keep handling it any more.  

X= X-Ray(let's see what's going on under those clothes)

I mean we all have seen Bellingham's genes but I think it's more thicker than the average and not that long.

Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Let's say he's average (I don't see him as a guy who is horny all the time)

Z= Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

He definitely sleeps better after sex, but he makes sure you are asleep before he goes to sleep. He wants to make sure your comfortable and had many cuddles before he close his eyes.(even tho it’s hard for him if he had exhausting day) 

[nickgurl4life]

ᢉ𐭩Shattered Chainsᢉ𐭩

Pairings: Ex Boyfriend! + Ex Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: abuse, child endangerment, manipulation (none of this is Chris), and other angst things, If I missed any let me know!

Summary: reader is in a toxic relationship and Chris is trying to save her and her baby.

w/c: 4,931

a/n: I thought of this idea, if you do NOT like reading about domestic violence or any type of threatening with women/children, do not read! If you read and end up being uncomfortable do not blame me! This is your warning.

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Chris stood in front of the familiar house, his heart pounding in his chest. He had played this moment over and over in his head, imagining how it might go. Would she smile when she saw him? Would they talk about the good times, maybe even laugh about how foolish they’d been to let each other go? After three years apart and a fresh breakup of his own, he couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were meant to find their way back to each other. Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. The door swung open, but instead of her, a man stood in the doorway. Tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a smug expression, the stranger looked Chris up and down like he was sizing him up. "Can I help you?" the man asked, his tone sharp. Chris cleared his throat. "Uh, hi. I’m Chris. I was hoping to see her—" he started, but the man cut him off. "Yeah, I know who you are," the man said, leaning against the doorframe. "She’s mentioned you." His tone made it clear that whatever she’d said wasn’t flattering. "What do you want?" Chris faltered, already regretting his decision to come. "I just... I wanted to talk to her. Is she home?" "She’s busy," the man said, crossing his arms. "Look, I get it. You’re the ex, right? Thought you’d swoop in here after three years and win her back or something? Hate to break it to you, man, but she’s moved on." He glanced back into the house and smirked. "We’ve got a good thing going here."

Just as Chris opened his mouth to respond, she appeared behind the man, holding a small baby in her arms. Her eyes widened when she saw Chris. "Chris?" she said, her voice soft with surprise. She shifted the baby in her arms, her expression unreadable. "Hey," Chris said, his voice cracking. "I... I didn’t know you had a baby." he man turned, glancing at her and the baby, then back at Chris with a mocking grin. "Yeah, this is Ellie. She’s ours." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "You’re a little late, buddy." "Adam," she said sharply, stepping away from him. She looked at Chris, her expression now tinged with guilt. "Can we talk? Just us?" Adam raised his hands in mock surrender. "Sure, go ahead. But don’t take too long. Some of us actually have responsibilities." He gave Chris one last condescending look before disappearing into the house. She sighed, stepping out onto the porch with Ellie still in her arms. "I’m sorry about that," she said quietly. "Adam... he can be protective." "Protective?" Chris echoed, his voice laced with bitterness. "He’s a jerk." She winced but didn’t argue. "Chris, why are you here?" Chris looked at her, his chest tightening. "I don’t know," he admitted. "I guess... I thought maybe there was still something between us. After my breakup, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us." His voice broke, and he ran a hand through his hair. "But I see now that you’ve got a life—a family."

Her eyes softened, but she shook her head. "Chris, what we had was real, and I’ll always care about you. But things are different now. I’m with Adam, and Ellie... she’s my whole world." She looked down at the baby, her expression tender. Chris swallowed hard, nodding even though his heart was breaking. "I just... I needed to see for myself. To know for sure." She reached out, touching his arm gently. "I hope you find someone who makes you happy, Chris. You deserve that." Before he could respond, the door opened, and Adam leaned out, his smirk firmly back in place. "Everything good out here?" he asked, his tone dripping with false concern. Chris forced a tight smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah. Everything’s fine." He turned to her one last time, his voice soft. "Take care of yourself." As he walked away, Adam’s smug laughter echoed behind him, but Chris didn’t look back. He knew he couldn’t change the past, and now, it was clear there was no going back. Two weeks later, Chris found himself driving past her house again, unable to resist the pull that had taken hold of him since that fateful day. He told himself he was being stupid, that he should leave well enough alone, but the sight of the driveway—empty of Adam’s car—ignited a reckless kind of hope. Maybe they could talk without Adam looming over them, making everything tense. Maybe he could finally say what he hadn’t had the courage to before.

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Two weeks later, Chris found himself driving past her house again, unable to resist the pull that had taken hold of him since that fateful day. He told himself he was being stupid, that he should leave well enough alone, but the sight of the driveway—empty of Adam’s car—ignited a reckless kind of hope. Maybe they could talk without Adam looming over them, making everything tense. Maybe he could finally say what he hadn’t had the courage to before. He parked a block away, his palms slick with nervous sweat as he approached the front door. The memory of Adam’s smug smirk and sharp words haunted him, but this time, it didn’t matter. He rang the bell, and when she answered, the baby perched on her hip, she looked surprised but not angry. “Chris,” she said, her tone cautious. “What are you doing here?” “I saw Adam wasn’t home,” he said quickly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I swear, I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… I wanted to talk. Please.” She hesitated, glancing down at Ellie, who cooed softly, then back at him. “Alright. Just for a few minutes.” She stepped aside, letting him in, and they sat in the living room, the baby in her lap. Chris couldn’t help but smile at the way Ellie’s tiny hands reached for her mother’s face, the love between them so evident it almost hurt to see. “I wanted to apologize,” Chris began, his voice low. “For showing up out of nowhere last time. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you.” She softened slightly, giving him a small nod. “I appreciate that. It was… unexpected, but I understand.

Breakups mess with your head.” Chris swallowed hard, his hands gripping his knees. “I just can’t stop thinking about you. About what we had. I know it’s been years, and I know things are different now, but I can’t shake the feeling that I messed up the best thing I ever had.” She looked down at Ellie, her expression conflicted. “Chris… I won’t lie and say I don’t think about us sometimes. You were important to me. But my life now… it’s complicated. Adam—” Before she could finish, the front door swung open with a loud bang, and Adam’s voice boomed through the house. “I’m home!” Chris froze as Adam appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw him. “What the hell is this?” Adam snapped, his face darkening. “It’s not what you think,” she said quickly, standing and bouncing Ellie on her hip in an effort to diffuse the tension. “Chris just came to talk. That’s all.” “To talk?” Adam spat, glaring at Chris. “You don’t belong here. I told you to stay away.” “Adam, stop,” she said firmly, her tone sharp enough to make him hesitate. “I let him in. He’s not causing any trouble.” Adam’s jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “This guy thinks he can just waltz in here and play the hero? What, you think you’re gonna swoop in and take her away from me? From us?” Chris stood, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s not what this is about,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing in his chest.

“I just needed to say my piece. I’m not trying to ruin anything.” "Yeah, well, you being here is enough to ruin things,” Adam snapped. “You don’t get to come in here and act like you still have a claim on her. She’s with me now. We’re a family.” “Adam, that’s enough!” she shouted, her voice trembling but firm. Ellie began to cry, the tension in the room too much for the baby. She turned her back on both of them, trying to soothe her daughter. “This isn’t about you or him. It’s about what’s best for me and Ellie. And right now, what I need is for both of you to stop acting like children.” Adam’s face softened slightly at her words, though his glare at Chris remained. Chris took a step back, his heart heavy but his mind clear. “She’s right,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.” Without another word, he turned and walked out the door, the sound of Ellie’s cries echoing in his ears. This time, he knew it was really over. No matter how much he wished things could be different, her life was no longer his to be part of.

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The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. Ellie had finally fallen asleep after the tension-filled evening, her tiny breaths audible through the monitor. She leaned against the sink, her hands gripping the edge tightly as she tried to calm the storm brewing inside her. Adam stood across the room, pacing, his footsteps heavy against the floor. His jaw was tight, and his eyes burned with barely contained anger. “I can’t believe you let him in here,” Adam finally snapped, his voice low but cutting. “What were you thinking? After everything I’ve done for you—for us—you let him walk back into your life like it’s nothing?” She turned to face him, her own patience wearing thin. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Adam. He showed up, and I didn’t want to make a scene. He just wanted to talk, and I thought it would be better to let him say whatever he needed to say so he’d leave for good.” Adam scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “So what, you’re just inviting your exes over now? Letting them sit in my house, around my family? What’s next, you’re going to let him hold Ellie?” “Stop it!” she hissed, her voice sharp but quiet to avoid waking Ellie. “This isn’t about you or Chris. It’s about me trying to handle something from my past so it doesn’t keep coming back. He’s gone now, Adam. You don’t need to keep blowing this out of proportion.”

“Blowing it out of proportion?” he repeated, his voice rising despite her warning. “How do you think this looks? He’s still in love with you—it’s obvious! And you just let him walk in here like nothing’s changed. Do you even respect me? Us?” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she fought to keep her composure. “Don’t you dare question my respect for you, Adam. I’ve been nothing but honest and committed to you since the beginning. But that doesn’t mean I owe you control over how I handle my past. Chris is not a threat to us, and the fact that you’re turning this into something it isn’t says more about your insecurities than it does about me.” His face darkened at her words, but he didn’t respond immediately. The silence between them stretched, heavy and tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but still laced with bitterness. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not just mad because he showed up���I’m mad because you let him make me feel like I’m not enough. Like he still has a place in your life.” She shook her head, exhaustion settling over her. “He doesn’t have a place in my life, Adam. I told him that tonight. You’re the one I chose. You’re the one I’m building a life with. But if you keep letting your jealousy and pride get in the way, you’re going to ruin this yourself.” Adam stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, without another word, he turned and stormed off toward the bedroom, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen. The baby monitor hummed softly, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside her. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It wasn’t Chris who was threatening her future—it was Adam. And as she stood there in the quiet of the night, she couldn’t help but wonder how much more of this she could take.

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A week later, she sat on the edge of the bed, the baby monitor humming beside her. Ellie was asleep, and the house was quiet, but her mind was anything but. For days, Adam had been acting colder, more controlling, monitoring her every move. She felt trapped, suffocated by his paranoia and manipulations. She needed help, someone to remind her of the person she used to be before all of this. Against her better judgment, she dialed Chris’s number, her hands trembling as she held the phone to her ear. “Hello?” Chris’s voice came through the line, warm but cautious. “Is everything okay?” She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “Chris, I—I don’t know what to do. Things with Adam… they’re worse than ever. I think—” “What the hell are you doing?” Adam’s voice boomed from the doorway, making her jump. Before she could react, he stormed over and snatched the phone from her hand, glaring at the screen before pressing it to his ear.

“Listen here, you piece of crap,” Adam growled, his voice venomous. “Stay out of my family’s life. You’ve got no business talking to her, and if I ever catch you calling her again, I’ll make sure you regret it.” "Put her back on the phone, Adam,” Chris demanded, his tone steady but firm. “I’m not going to let you treat her like this.” Adam laughed bitterly, pacing the room with the phone in his grip. “You’re not going to let me? Last I checked, I’m the one here, not you. She doesn’t need your help. She doesn’t need you. Stay out of it before you make things worse for her.” She stood frozen, her heart pounding as she watched the scene unfold, tears welling in her eyes. Adam ended the call abruptly, throwing the phone onto the bed before turning to her, his face twisted with fury. “You think running to him is going to fix anything? You think he’s going to save you?” She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in as Adam loomed over her. She knew she couldn’t stay silent much longer—something had to change before it was too late.

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Chris hadn’t been able to get her call out of his mind. Her voice had been shaky, scared—nothing like the woman he’d known years ago. Something was wrong, and no matter what Adam had threatened, he couldn’t ignore it. He drove to the house late that evening, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, determination coursing through him. The driveway was empty, and the lights inside were dim, but he didn’t let that deter him. When he reached the door and knocked, there was no response. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to leave, but a gut feeling told him not to. The thought of her and the baby in danger gnawed at him. He tested the doorknob, and to his surprise, it turned. Quietly, he let himself in, his footsteps cautious as he moved toward the muffled voices coming from the living room. As he got closer, the voices became clearer—her voice, trembling and pleading, and Adam’s, sharp and venomous. Chris froze when he stepped into the doorway and saw the scene before him. Adam was standing over her, holding Ellie in one arm while his free hand was raised, hovering over her as though he were about to strike. “You’re so ungrateful!” Adam barked, his face twisted with rage. “I’ve done everything for you, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking around and calling him?”

She cowered slightly, her hands raised in a futile attempt to protect herself. “Adam, please,” she said, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean—just calm down. You’re scaring Ellie.” Chris couldn’t stay silent any longer. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, stepping into the room. Adam spun around, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the sight of Chris. “What are you doing in my house?” he growled, clutching Ellie tighter. The baby whimpered, sensing the tension, and Adam barely seemed to notice. “I came to check on her,” Chris said, his voice steady despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “And it looks like I got here just in time. Put the baby down, Adam. Now.” Adam smirked, shifting Ellie slightly in his arms. “Oh, you think you’re going to play the hero? Walk in here and save her? You’ve got no idea what you’re messing with.” Chris took a step closer, his eyes locked on Adam. “I said put her down. You’re scaring her, and you’re scaring her mother. This ends now.”

Adam’s smirk faltered, his grip on Ellie tightening for a moment before he finally relented, setting the baby down in her playpen with a roughness that made Chris’s stomach turn. As soon as Ellie was safe, Chris stepped between Adam and her, positioning himself as a barrier. “She’s done with this,” Chris said firmly, his voice low but filled with conviction. “You don’t get to treat her like this. You don’t get to threaten her and the baby.” Adam glared at him, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t get to decide what happens in my house,” he spat. “She’s mine. Not yours. She doesn’t need you.” “She’s not yours,” Chris shot back, his voice rising. “She’s her own person, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. You can’t keep her trapped here.” He turned to her, his expression softening. “You don’t have to stay, you know. You and Ellie can come with me. You don’t have to do this alone.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Chris, her body trembling. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of hope—an escape from the nightmare she’d been living. But before she could respond, Adam lunged forward, shoving Chris hard.

“Get out of my house!” Adam roared. “You don’t belong here!” Chris steadied himself, standing his ground. “I’m not leaving without her,” he said firmly. “You’ve lost the right to call this your family.” Adam looked like he was ready to explode, but the sound of Ellie crying from the playpen cut through the tension. The baby’s wails filled the room, and for a moment, no one moved. Then she stepped forward, her voice trembling but strong. “I’m going with Chris,” she said, her eyes locked on Adam. “And if you try to stop me, I’ll call the police.” Adam’s face twisted in fury, but he didn’t say a word. Chris placed a protective hand on her back, guiding her toward Ellie. Chris gently picked up Ellie from the playpen, her cries beginning to subside as he held her close. His touch was calm and steady, his voice a soft murmur of reassurance as he cradled her. “It’s okay, little one. You’re safe now.” He turned to her, nodding toward the door. “Let’s get her to the car.” She followed him, her legs shaky but determined. As they neared the door, Adam’s voice cut through the tense silence. “You think this is over?” he spat, his tone dripping with venom. “You think you can just leave and everything will be fine? You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”

She stopped in the doorway, turning to face him, her body trembling but her resolve firm. “No, Adam. The biggest mistake of my life was staying with you as long as I did,” she said, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. “I’m done. You don’t get to control me, manipulate me, or scare me anymore. It’s over.” Adam’s face twisted with rage, but she held her ground, her voice unwavering. “You can say whatever you want, but I’m leaving with my daughter, and I’m not coming back. You don’t love me, Adam. You just love having power over me, and I’m done giving you that.” Chris, who had stepped outside with Ellie, reappeared in the doorway, his presence a silent reassurance. “She said it’s over, Adam,” he said firmly. “You need to accept that and let her go.” Adam glared at him, but there was something different in his eyes now—frustration, defeat, maybe even fear. For the first time, it seemed like he realized he wasn’t in control anymore. She didn’t wait for him to respond. Without another word, she turned and walked out the door, her steps growing stronger with each one. When she reached the car, Chris was already securing Ellie into the car seat, his movements careful and practiced. He looked up as she approached, his expression soft but filled with determination.

“You’re doing the right thing,” he said gently. “You’re stronger than you think.” She nodded, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “I just want to keep her safe. I want her to have the life she deserves.” Chris placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re giving her that now. And you’re not alone in this anymore.” She looked back at the house one last time, then climbed into the car, leaving Adam—and the life she thought she had to endure—behind. For the first time in years, she felt the promise of a new beginning.

✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦--✦-✦-✦-✦

Authors Note: here's something that's not super angsty but it's sad, writing about abuse/domestic violence is a bit out of comfort but I had an anon ask for it (I think I accidentally deleted their ask whoops) but ENJOY BABES~

who wants a part two!?

Taglist: @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pvssychicken @mattsslutt @chrislilcumslvt @cupiidk1lls @loud-sturniolos @p14th0mps0n @3xclus1vel0v3r @bilssturns @nateismybf @chrissweetheart @jassturn @kaybug88 @kennastromboli @goingtojohnkramershouseee @matthewsroses @whore4chris @trevorsgodmother @sweetshuga @chrissdiorstar

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Thoughts on drunk Bucky coming back from the pub and using Gale as an oversized teddy bear, snuggling up in his personal space and squeezing and Gale blue screening because no one has ever held him affectionately like that before and the amount of Emotions he’s feeling are overwhelming

Are you fucking kidding me right now?😭 1000x yes 🙌

Gale reading in his bunk, alone, because everyone else is out in the local village getting sloshed and he just didn’t feel like dealing with it that night. Except John comes stumbling in significantly earlier than expected and way drunker than he should be (he lost a best and had to take shots).

His grin is so wide it looks painfully when his eyes finally land on Buck and he makes this delighted little noise before tripping over to Gale’s bunk and essentially falling on top of him. Buck tries to wrestle the heavy, loose limbed body off of himself while Bucky fumbles with his shoes and belt, wriggling excitedly when he gets them off.

He goes to tell John off but then Bucky is mumbling about how he missed Gale and it wasn’t the same without him there and he’s wrapping his arms around Buck’s waist and settling his cheek against Gale’s chest and squeezing Buck’s body to his and Gale can’t say anything. He’s used to John’s casual touching soothing an empty aching part of his soul that he doesn’t like to acknowledge but this is on another level.

His throat hurts and he feels a burning in his nose and a pinch behind his eyes that feels suspiciously like oncoming tears so he buries his nose in Bucky’s curls that are coming loose from their gel and starts stroking a hand down John’s back. Bucky practically purrs in the embrace and Gale can’t remember the last time he’d been held so tenderly in his life.

Despite the tears fighting their way to release, he also feels so safe and settled, a warmth filling that empty aching part of his soul and he can’t imagine ever giving this up and dreads the moment that John will wake up and go back to his own bunk. He’s not focusing on that last bit though. His mind, body, and soul is completely enraptured by the sensation of those arms around him, the heart beating against his rib cage, and the warm breath puffing out against his sleep shirt accompanied by drunken murmured sweet nothings.

This feeling right here is what he’s fighting for.

[biblical-chronicles]

The Masterplan pt. 3

__________________________________________

where Noel makes sure you end up as his.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

__________________________________________

Weeks into the arrangement, your manager was positively giddy with the results. “Front pages, glowing reviews, interviews lining up—it’s working better than I could’ve imagined.” he’d gushed after showing you yet another article labeling you and Noel the “it couple.” The photos of the two of you walking hand-in-hand or exchanging grins outside a gig looked so natural that even you started to believe them.

But the more convincing you tried to be, the blurrier the lines became.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Noel’s natural charm before; it was impossible not to. But now, with his arm slung around your shoulders in public or his fingers brushing against yours at the studio, your heart betrayed you with an unwelcome flutter.

Noel, of course, seemed to have settled into the role perfectly. “Gotta make it look real, eh?” he’d say with a smirk as he pressed a kiss to your temple in full view of some lurking photographer. His casual demeanor only made it worse. He was so bloody good at pretending that sometimes you forgot it wasn’t real.

Except there were moments when it didn’t feel like pretending at all.

Like when you’d catch him looking at you just a little too long during a quiet moment in the studio. Or when his laugh would come a beat later than usual after you made a joke, his eyes softening in a way that felt less PR and more... something else.

It was terrifying. You’d signed up for a game, not to have your heart on the line. But now, every time he kissed you for the cameras—or, increasingly, when there weren’t any—you found yourself craving the feel of his lips when he wasn’t around. It was ridiculous. Dangerous even.

And yet, you found ways to manufacture little moments.

“Does this look alright?” you’d ask him one evening, holding up a stack of promo photos from your latest shoot. He was perched on the arm of the couch in your studio, thumbing lazily through a magazine.

He glanced up, his brows lifting. “Looks fine to me. What’s the matter?”

You bit your lip, hesitating. “Dunno. I just... feel like I look stiff.”

Noel smirked, setting the magazine down. “Stiff, eh? Let’s see.”

He leaned in, his knee brushing yours as he took the photos from your hands. His scent hit you immediately, a mix of cologne and something uniquely him. You tried not to stare at the way his fingers moved over the glossy paper.

“Honestly,” he said, flipping through the shots, “these are fine. But if you want more of that ‘relaxed’ look—” His eyes flicked to yours, a hint of a grin playing on his lips. “—we could always stage another photo op. Maybe one with you snoggin’ me senseless in a pub. Dead casual.”

You laughed, swatting his arm. “Piss off, Gallagher.” But your cheeks were warm, and when his grin softened into something closer to genuine, you felt that pull again.

The lines blurred even more at the studio, where Noel’s sudden increase in public affection didn’t seem to fade behind closed doors. He’d sit closer than necessary during lunch breaks, his knee brushing yours under the table. Once, he’d walked into your studio room, wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, and mumbled, “Cameras or not, this feels too good to pass up.”

It wasn’t like you were innocent in all of this either. You started creating excuses to linger in his studio, whether it was to ask for feedback on a melody or to “accidentally” leave your coat behind so you’d have to come back.

One evening, after a particularly long day of recording, the two of you were heading out of the building when you spotted a reporter loitering across the street.

“Bloody vultures.” Noel muttered, slipping his hand into yours.

You glanced at him, your pulse quickening. “Should we do something?”

He arched a brow, his smirk returning. “Do what? Give ‘em a story?”

Before you could think, you were leaning in, pressing your lips to his in a move that felt half-spontaneous, half-strategic.

When you pulled back, breathless, Noel’s eyes lingered on you, a hint of mischief in his gaze. “You’re gettin’ far too good at this, you know.”

You tried to laugh it off, but the truth was written all over your face. The line between PR and real was no longer just blurred—it was nonexistent.

The park was quiet that afternoon, the kind of quiet you’d think would settle your nerves. But as you walked alongside Noel, your thoughts swirled faster than you could make sense of them. You clutched the takeaway coffee in your hands like it was a lifeline, but even the warmth couldn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing.

Noel was talking about something, but you barely registered it. You were too busy rehearsing the words in your head, trying to figure out how to say what you needed to say without falling apart.

“You alright there, love?” he asked, glancing down at you. “You’ve been dead quiet since we left the studio.”

You looked up at him, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face with that mix of curiosity and concern he always had. It made it worse, knowing how kind he was being while you were sitting on a secret that felt like it was eating you alive.

“Can we sit down for a minute?” you asked softly, nodding toward a nearby bench.

Noel raised a brow but didn’t question it, following you over. As you both sat, he draped an arm around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. And for a moment, you let yourself sink into it before reality yanked you back.

You shifted slightly, nudging his arm away. “I—um. I just... I need to talk to you about something.”

“Alright,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “What’s goin’ on?”

You took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. The music, the industry—it’s all just... too much. I wanted to put out music because I loved it, you know? But now it’s all about headlines and publicity stunts, and I feel like I’m just... a commodity.”

Noel blinked, his usual cool composure faltering. “What are you on about? You’re smashing it, love. You’ve got the talent, the look—you’re the whole package.”

“But that’s just it,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s not about the music anymore. It’s about selling some idea of me that I don’t even recognize. And me manager... God, he keeps pushing me harder, saying I need to do more, be more. I don’t even know what I want anymore. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

Noel froze, the weight of your words settling on his shoulders like a ton of bricks. His mind raced, piecing everything together—the pressure from your manager, your exhaustion, the doubt in your voice. And then it hit him, clear as day: this is my fault.

He’d been the one to nudge your manager, the one to push for more headlines, more pressure. All because he’d wanted you to come to him, to need him. And now, here you were, broken under the weight of it all, questioning your entire career.

“Listen,” he started, his voice quieter than usual. “You can’t think like that, alright? You’re too bloody good at this to throw it all away. Trust me, it gets easier after this bit—the shitstorm at the start. You’ve already got your big break now.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I don’t know, Noel. I’m just... so confused. It’s too overwhelming. Maybe it’s not for me.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Noel didn’t have a snarky retort or a clever remark. He sat there, stunned, as you buried your face in your hands. When the first sob escaped you, he reached for you instinctively, pulling you into his chest.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Don’t cry, love. Come on now. You’ve got this. You’ve just hit a rough patch, yeah? Happens to everyone.”

You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. His hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair as he whispered soothing words.

But in his mind, he was panicking. What the fuck have I done?

If it hadn’t been for his meddling, you wouldn’t be in this position. You wouldn’t be doubting yourself, questioning your dreams. He’d meant to bring you closer, to tie you to him. Instead, he’d nearly shattered you.

He held you tighter, guilt gnawing at him with every shaky breath you took. “You’re not alone in this, alright? You’ve got me. And we’ll sort it out, yeah? Whatever it takes.”

You pulled back slightly, your tear-streaked face looking up at him. “You’ve done so much for me already. I feel like all I do is dump me problems on you.”

He shook his head, his voice firm. “Don’t be daft. You’re not dumpin’ anything. I’m here because I want to be, alright? And I’ll keep being here, no matter what.”

You nodded, sniffling as you leaned back into him. He rested his chin on top of your head, his mind racing as he held you.

The silence between you stretched unbearably after you pulled back from his embrace. Noel could feel your hesitation, the way you fiddled with the hem of your jacket like you were bracing yourself for something heavy. He stayed quiet, sensing you needed to speak first.

“Noel...” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I can keep doing this. This... thing we’ve got going. It’s breaking me more than it’s helping.”

Noel’s stomach dropped. For a moment, he thought he’d misheard, but the tremble in your voice confirmed it. She’s pulling away. Fuckin’ brilliant. She’s about to pack it all in—her career, this whole thing. And it’s all because of me.

He straightened up, trying to keep the panic from showing on his face. “What thing, exactly?” he asked carefully, feigning a bit of confusion. If he could just keep you talking, maybe he could steer this ship away from disaster.

You exhaled shakily, your hands clenching into fists. “I let myself fall, Noel. Properly fall for you. And it’s not your fault—it’s mine. I shouldn’t have let it happen. But I can’t keep pretending this is just some fake scenario when me heart... when it wants more than that.”

Noel stared at you, utterly stunned. His brain scrambled for a response, but nothing coherent came to mind. You misread his silence as rejection, and your shoulders slumped as you continued.

“I’m sorry for being stupid like that,” you said, tears welling in your eyes again. “But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep playing this game when it’s ripping me apart inside.”

“Are you serious?” Noel finally blurted, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He shifted closer, his hands gripping the edge of the bench. “You think this is a game to me? You think I don’t...?” He stopped himself, exhaling hard and running a hand through his hair.

You looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his tone. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” you admitted.

He took your hands in his, leaning closer until his eyes locked with yours. “Listen to me, alright? I don’t want this to be some fake thing either. I’ve been trying to... I dunno, keep it together, keep it professional. But if you think for a second that I haven’t felt the same...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Then you’re daft.”

You blinked at him, your lips parting in surprise. “You mean that?”

“Course I do,” he said, his voice softening. “I didn’t go through all this bollocks just to play pretend. You mean too much to me for that.”

A shaky smile broke through your tears, and before either of you could say another word, you leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t for show this time, no cameras or reporters in sight. It was real—messy and desperate and everything you’d been holding back.

When you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his, and you whispered, “I’d leave it all behind for you, you know. The career, the stress—everything. I’d just help you out in the studio or whatever. I don’t need anything else as long as I’ve got you.”

Noel’s heart clenched, guilt twisting in his chest like a knife. This was all because of him—your doubts, your stress, your breakdowns. But he couldn’t let you walk away from your dreams, not when you had so much ahead of you.

“No way love,” he said firmly, his hands cradling your face. “You’re not throwin’ all that away for me. You’ve worked too hard to get here. I’m not lettin’ you quit now.”

“But it’s too much,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s overwhelming, Noel. I just want peace.”

“And you’ll get it,” he promised. “But not like this. You’ve got too much talent to let it go to waste. We’ll figure it out, yeah? Together. I’m not lettin’ you go through this on your own.”

Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him again, gratitude pouring out of you in waves. When you pulled back, you whispered, “Thank you, Noel. For everything.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, holding you close as a mix of guilt and happiness swirled in his chest. “Always, love,” he murmured. “Always.”

__________________________________________

early delivery today x

the cheeky cunt suffers the consequences of being a cheeky cunt

(I'd still forgive him come on)

hope you lot liked it, kinda wanna scribble down a part 4, perhaps I will xx

pt. 4 does exists now !!

[littlestarbigsky]

ok i’m bad at writing requests but 😭😭 a fic with any of the curtis bros coming out to each other? specifically soda coming out to them (prob w stevepop but whatever u want) if that makes any sense 😭😭 i loveee ur writing !! 🙈

oh curtis bros my beloved you are sooo special to me :)) im imagining this to be about two-ish months post canon (johnny and dally still died, sorry team :p ) anyways they kinda take the long way around but trust me i did eventually follow the request lmao

hope this is okay🩷

soda knew darry was gonna kill him… even as he walked through the cold november rain he dragged his feet, trying to put off how angry his brother was about to be with him. the house loomed into view and even through the darkness and anxiety sitting in his chest, he couldn’t help but feel glad to see their house, their home.

he pushed the door open and pony and darry were both sitting in the living room, darry on the couch and pony on the floor, leaning up against his legs. they both turned around and stared at soda as he shut the door behind him and started wiping his shoes off on the doormat. he must have been a sight for fresh eyes; his hair plastered to his face and his clothes sticking to him with rain.

none of them knew what was about to happen. none of them had been late getting home since pony ran off, since…

“i’m sorry,” soda stuttered, bending over to take his shoes off, only to realize he didn’t know what to do with himself after the fact.

darry stood up, and even though he knew it was okay, that he was safe, he felt himself go tense. there was a moment when all three of them felt the weight of what was happening, darry deciding whether or not to yell, soda feeling tears welling in his eyes, and pony sick to his stomach with worry watching the two of them.

darry sighed, his eyes softening, “ponyboy, go get soda a towel, please.”

pony nodded and pushed himself off the floor, taking off down the hall. darry hurried forward and enveloped soda in a rib-cracking hug.

“are you okay?” he asked quietly, his hand rubbing the back of soda’s head, just like their dad used to.

soda nodded quietly.

“honey, you’re soaked…” darry pushed him back to look him over. “why didn’t you call? i’d have come and picked you up from work.”

soda didn’t know where to start. it was time for them to know, and he’d known forever that it was safe to, that it was okay to tell them, but the words always fell flat when he tried to string all the thoughts together.

he was spared the trouble of having to explain himself yet by ponyboy coming back and throwing a warm towel over his shoulders. darry scrubbed his head for a second and muttered, “go dry off and change, you’re gonna get sick.”

soda dragged himself back into his and pony’s bedroom, peeling his wet clothes off and sitting down on the bed, with the towel wrapped around them. he could feel his heart hammering in his throat in a way that had nothing to do with how cold he was. he pulled on a sweatshirt and pajama pants and haphazardly toweled his hair dry, not bothering to run a comb through it or even try to make it look presentable.

darry and ponyboy were on either side of the couch watching tv when he walked back out. he threw his clothes in the dryer and piled in next to pony, who curled up into soda’s side and looked over at darry, waiting patiently for what was coming next.

“i wasn’t at work,” soda started, throwing an arm over pony’s shoulders and tugging him closer. “i was over at steve’s.”

darry tilted his head, “well, why didn’t you just say so, pepsi? steve’s house is no big deal.”

soda sighed deeply, not sure how to approach it gently, “yea… me and steve…”

he couldn’t do it. there was no way he could tell them, not yet. maybe not ever.

unfortunately, pony had caught on immediately. he looked over quickly, “what’s up, soda?”

“what about you and steve?” darry looked over curiously.

shit. he’d noticed, too, there was no going back now, they knew something was happening. it began to occur to him how incapable he was of taking any of it back, how he would never be able to undo it.

“steve and i…” he started, and he had to close his mouth and open it a few times before he could get the words to sound right in his head. “we’re to- he’s…”

soda huffed and pressed his lips together anxiously. pony sat up slightly, his brows furrowed, “it’s okay, take your time.”

“we’re together,” soda spat out, unable to beat around the bush any longer. “he’s my boyfriend.”

there was a palpable silence that hung in the air for almost a full minute after soda spoke, so tense you could cut it with a knife. all any of them could do was stare silently, the only sound being soda’s ragged, terrified breaths.

“that’s all?” darry asked, and soda nodded quickly. “baby, that’s okay! i thought something was wrong!”

soda felt like he could melt into the couch from the relief. he threw himself at darry, his eyes filling with tears as he felt a lump swelling in his throat.

“i thought…” he cried, gripping darry like a lifeline. “i thought you’d be mad.”

“hey,” darry held soda’s face in his hands. “you’re our brother, there is nothing you can do that could make us stop loving you.”

soda gave a heavy sob and darry and pony squeezed him between them.

“you don’t gotta cry,” pony whispered, his hands rubbing up and down soda’s back.

“oh, kiddo,” darry laughed lightly. “i thought you’d known about paul…”

soda sat straight up, his mouth falling open comically, “you… he- paul? seriously? but you were always taking a girl to dances!”

soda let out a loud laugh of delighted incredulity and darry blushed, “a bit of both never hurt anyone… but you already know that, huh?”

soda giggled wetly and wrapped darry in a bone-crushing hug, “thank you.”

“of course, we love you, pepsi,” darry held his little brother close.

darry was never one to hug for long, but soda needed it, needed him. they pulled back after a few moments, and looked over at ponyboy. soda’s heart sank as he realized that there were tears in pony’s eyes, tears that he and darry hadn’t noticed.

“hey, kiddo, what’s the matter?” darry asked quickly, and pony shrugged.

soda did what he did best, he smiled and joked, “you gonna tell us you like boys, too? looks like it might just run in the family.”

pony blinked, and a tear fell from both eyes. he didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly, a high-pitched sob following. they barely gave him a breath before they were both crowding around him and crushing him between them. soda had an inkling that he knew what this was about; pony only ever cried about one thing anymore.

“ponyboy,” soda asked gently, a hand running through pony’s hair. “were you and johnny…?”

“no,” pony gasped out as he shook his head, his breath coming in deep heaves as darry tried to keep him calm. “we weren’t, but i think we’d have gotten there eventually.”

“oh, honey,” soda felt sick to his stomach as he ran a hand over his baby brother’s face and darry tucked pony into himself.

what on earth had this poor kid done to deserve this? losing their parents would have been enough for anyone, but for ponyboy, losing johnny had been like losing half of everything he was. they may not have had it figured out yet, but there had always been more love between the two of them than soda could have felt with anyone, more than darry had with paul or any of the girls he’d taken out in high school. and ponyboy’s person was gone, sad, scared, and in pain.

“it’s okay,” pony sniffled as soda gently tried to wipe away some of the tears.

“no, it’s not,” soda sighed, tear’s prickling in his own eyes. “it’s okay that it’s not. it’s allowed to hurt, baby.”

pony sighed deeply, “thanks for telling us, soda. i guess it does run in the family.”

soda laughed and yanked his little brother into a hug, one that darry joined in on a few moments later. peas in a pod, birds of a feather, nothing would ever come between them, nothing could even if it tried.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Electric Touch (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: Inspired by "Electric Touch" by Taylor Swift ft. Fall Out Boy

Steve has not had the best time in recent history when it comes to love. He knows he shouldn’t put all this weight on a first date, but he can’t help it. His mind is overrun with thoughts of you- with him, being the one. Maybe this time, he’ll have finally gotten it right.

A/N: Can be read read as a follow-up to "The Love Triangle from Hell" or can be read as something entirely separate. This reader is not the same as the one in that series- but it's the same Steve in my head (if that makes sense??)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; smut (not overly explicit); piv; oral (f) receving; kissing; cursing

Steve never used to be anxious leading up to a date. He’d be calm and collected- confident. He was charismatic… once. Now, a terrible dry spell and terrible heartaches later, he’s met someone. And he so wants tonight to go well that he’s been pacing since getting ready a whole hour early. Eddie joked Steve was going to set sparks on the carpet from the friction. Steve couldn’t help it- he’s desperately trying to rid his body of this nervous energy. He needed to get it out of his system before you arrived. It was just hanging out, he tried to calm his nerves. Just breathe. He just so desperately wanted this to go well. 

He didn’t want to put too much pressure on this. It’s just the first date he’s had in a while. Not that you were calling it a date- no one has officially said date, but fuck- Steve wishes tonight is a date with you. He hasn’t been able to get you out of his head since he met you- completely by happenstance. It’s always when it happens- just when you decide you’re done- giving up completely on dating, you meet the person who you’re willing to get yourself hurt again over. 

“It’s just watching a movie, Steve,” Eddie tries to calm his friend’s nerves. He’s sitting at the little bench they have by their front door- leaving soon for a date of his own tonight. “You’re still King Steve,” he teases and in his frustration, Steve flips him off. “You just need to channel that lady killer energy- not all of it, but the good parts,” Eddie offers advice and Steve shrugs. Steve goes over to the window, peeking outside to see if your car is pulling up yet. 

“I really, really like this girl,” he groans, flopping onto the couch dramatically. “I can’t keep fucking up.”

“You’re going to if you don’t stop overthinking this,” Eddie points out. He shrugs on his jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with his hands over his face. He waves Eddie away dramatically. With an unintentional slam of the front door, Eddie is gone- leaving Steve to his own devices as he tries to pull himself together. 

Steve has not had the best time in recent history when it comes to love. He just wants what everyone else seems to have- all of his friends managing to have love figured out at this moment. He feels like he’s being left behind- and he knows he’s missing out. He knows he shouldn’t put all this weight on a first date, but he can’t help it. His mind is overrun with thoughts of you- with him, being the one. Maybe this time, he’ll have finally gotten it right. 

You’ll show up, and you'll be just as shy as he feels- because maybe, just maybe you’re feeling the same way as him. You’ve been thinking about him just as much as he’s been thinking about you. You want him. It’s finally that fucking simple. He wants you to want him, to crave his company as much as he hopes for yours. You’re perfect for him, and maybe he’ll be perfect for you. Fate finally lets him have someone who wants him- he wants his soulmate. Maybe you’re her. Maybe tonight will go well and it’s the start of something wonderful. 

He imagines how it will feel to have you so close, sitting flush against his side. Your perfume will smell so good, and your skin against his will feel so soft. He wants to wrap his arm around your shoulders, and pull you in closer. He imagines what the weight of your head will feel like on his shoulder and if your hair will be ticklish as you rest in the crook of his neck. He wants to experience what it would be like to be close to you like that. 

He wonders if you’ll be as nervous as he feels, or maybe you’re so much braver than him and make the first move. Maybe you’ll kiss him, leaning up as the credits roll and your lips taste so sweet from your lip gloss. Would you kiss him slowly? Would it be one of those chaste, perfect first kisses? Or would you be more needy, more desperate? Just overwhelmed with the feeling of being close to him like how he would feel. Maybe you’ll climb into his lap to let him know you want to go further- you need to be closer, and he’ll happily oblige. Whatever you want. 

How would it feel if you pressed against him? He imagines how beautiful you’ll look in the dark, the TV light making a halo around your body he so badly wants to know. How perfect would your legs rest around his waist? Would he be able to feel the heat between your legs through your clothes? Would you moan? God, he wants to know your pretty sounds. Would you want to take things further? Would you ask between fevered kisses which bedroom was his? 

If you wanted, he’d lay you down and just worship your body if you’d let him. Would you? He imagines how you’d look- your hair played out across his pillow. He can see you in his bed like you were always meant to be there. It’s a space he wants to have completely taken over by you. He’ll be so gentle, if that's what you’re needing. He’ll take his time, pull back your layers as you let him. Maybe you’ll be more impatient, wiggling under his touch until he gives you exactly what you’re craving- what he’s craving to give to you. 

He wonders what you’re wearing- if maybe you picked out any of it just for him? He won’t ask, but he’ll imagine you doing just that. You want to look your best, the same way he does. He wants to put in the effort for you- he’ll spend hours to make his hair the perfect messy, he’ll overthink every sweater and shirt in his closet and he hopes that you did the same. Maybe you left your apartment with clothes strewn everywhere because you also couldn’t settle on what you wanted to wear. Maybe you’ll practice conversations in the mirror as you do your makeup like he did as he ran product through his hair. He’ll make sure to appreciate your efforts. 

Would you let him take it off? After all your hard work, would you let him get underneath it all? God, he knows you’d be so perfect. Would you let him kiss you absolutely everywhere? He imagines kissing your ankles, up the length of your gorgeous legs, before he settles your thighs- your beautiful thighs- on his shoulders. He wants to roll his tongue into you and kiss your wetness, and spend hours there if you’d only let him. He knows he could make you feel so good if you just give him a chance. 

He wants to know the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair. He wants to feel you tug him closer, and he wants to feel you coming apart for him. He imagines the grip of his hands on your thighs to keep you steady when the feeling starts to become too much. He’s got you. He wants you to know it’s okay to just let go. He wants to know how you feel in every sense. He wants to feel your body shake and hear your pretty moans for him if he makes you cum with his tongue. 

He wants to feel your skin, he wants to feel the sheen of sweat between your bodies. He wants to kiss your salty skin and whisper how much he loves you as he pushes into you for the first time. He knows you’ll feel so good. He knows you’ll take him so well. He just wants to stretch you out, and he knows you’ll look so pretty on his cock. He wants to kiss your pretty tits, and squeeze them and lick your hardened nipples. Anything- absolutely anything that would make his girl feel good. He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to worship you the way he wants to. The way you deserve. 

He’s let his mind wander too far, and he knows he needs to reign himself in. He sits up, and goes back to the window again- perfect timing. He sees the headlights of your car as you pull into the driveway. He takes a few deep breaths, shaking the thoughts he should not be thinking about right now. He fluffs the pillows and fixes the blanket on the back of the couch, trying to think of anything not sexy to calm himself down. 

Hair in the shower drain, double shifts at work, dirty dishes…

Buzz

His thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of the intercom. 

“Hey, Steve, it’s me!” he hears your cheerful voice through the speaker. He can’t help but smile and it melts his heart. He has a good feeling that this is going to be the start of something really great. 

“Come on up,” he says, pushing the button to buzz you in.

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