#let me know if yall like this sort of content

[yuanwang]

save me asian ocs.. save me...

[photomatt]

You gonna do anything or make any statement about the rampant transmisogyny on this hellsite, especially in cases like predstrogen recently? Or yall gonna stay silent and keep letting/making us get pushed off of it.

I have a number of asks about this, so this is to address all of them, I won't do each individually.

We generally do not comment on individual cases, but because there seems to be mass misinformation around this, I will make an exception and comment on predstrogen.

First, Tumblr has a number of LGBT+ including trans people on staff, and they see things from the inside fully, and they're not protesting this case.

Why do we wrongly have a transphobe reputation? We did have an external contract moderator last year that was making transphobic moderation (and also selling moderation, criminally). As soon as we were aware that person was fired, and we later terminated the entire relationship with that contracting firm and have brought almost everything in-house (at great cost). I have previously commented on this publicly, several times.

I am not aware of any Automattician (people who work at Automattic and Tumblr) who has made any transphobic moderation actions. If it's reported it is investigated immediately, if anything were found that person would be terminated for cause immediately.

Predstrogen's account was suspended for:

Repeated mis-tagging of adult content against Tumblr's community guidelines. This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.

Multiple cases of harassment of other Tumblr users, not just me.

Multiple threats of violence, not just the one I share below.

These represent a breach of our Terms of Service, and we've exercised our right to refuse service.

Threats of violence are never okay. Threats of violence are not protected speech. We will work with police and FBI where appropriate, though to be clear prestrogen's case hasn't warranted that so far. I'm referring to what we may potentially do for other threats. I just got a death threat yesterday from someone mad about predstrogen, and that account was immediately terminated.

So regardless of whether you still think Tumblr staff is somehow a bunch of transphobes, know that threats of violence or death are still not acceptable and will result in immediate and serious action. Know that when you rile people up, they can do dumb things with possibly permanent consequences.

(2 hours later update: I have changed instances of the pronoun "they" or "their" to "the account" because I am unaware of pronoun preference in this instance and don't want to misgender anyone. Thank you for the people who reported this as an issue. Update 2: "She" is apparently better, the post now says that. Sorry for the mistake.)

Here's one (of many!) examples of the harassment violations, this one targets me but there are others targeting other users on the site.

The second part seems to indicate she wanted to be suspended, I'm unaware of why, perhaps to create this sort of uproar. I agree the hammers feel silly, but the start, "i hope photomatt dies forever a painful death" is a violation of Tumblr's community guidelines and terms of service.

The car part did hit close to home as I have almost died twice in car accidents.

Update 2: Added this text to the adult content part: This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.

[watchmegetobsessed]

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says. 

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[jaggedamethyst]

golden boy (part 2) | jayce talis x female reader

2.6k words

content: fawk it!! part two to jayce making reader a vibrator with hextech but it’s even more angst, even more dirty, and even longer than part one. enjoy!!

notes/warnings: 18+ minors dni, fingering + oral (female receiving), some sub/dom references, jayce whimpering + forced to watch (MWAH HA HA HA), jayvik quote reference bc i love them with my entire heart. let me know if i missed anything!!

ps: thank yall for reading wtf, i’ve only been on here for like a month and it’s been so sweet so thank yall. let me know your guesses for how this ends- sad or sweet?/?/? do they finally get everything out on the table... who knows!! - amethyst 💟

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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You weren’t sure how long you’d slept for, but the steady circling of Jayce’s hand on your back was enough to make you want to stay there forever. The mirth quickly left you; that urge to remain with him was a weakness. You’d never let yourself feel bliss like this…it’s a one-way trip to hurt. He felt you begin to stir and pulled his arm away reluctantly.

“Welcome back to reality. We missed you here for a good,” Jayce glanced at his watch, “hour or so. Must’ve been a great power nap.”

You stretched a bit, “It was great.” You glanced toward his workbench, yawning, searching for anymore tricks up his sleeve. “That little invention of yours is even better, though.”

Jayce was back to his usual sheepish self, it was clear.

“Thanks.” Simple, concise.

You moved a bit, eyeing the man who’d been observing your every move. He noticed the way your gaze motioned up a bit, searching for something in your mind.

“You okay?”

A brow raised toward Jayce, “You cleaned me up?”

He was blushing again, then. That color splayed on his skin was one you’d come to love…no…like. You wished you were a sort of artist at that moment. You’d draw him all the time, the only constant being the lines around his soft smile and a tint across his face.

He shrugged, “Hygiene is important.”

You rose from the cushion of the seat, deliberately letting the blanket he’d given you fall.

“Such a gentleman.”

He looked you over. He was constantly etching the details of your skin into his brain, since he’d never know when it’d be the last time. His stare lasted until he realized you’d been putting your clothes back on, covering the very intricacies he’d been studying. An irritated huff escaped him at that.

You approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the sweetest, golden boy.”

“Hey,” his hand latched onto your wrist. He’d thought of you beneath him, how pliable you’d been when he took control. But the moment had passed as quickly as it came and he found himself no longer as willing to fight you. There was so much he wanted to say. He could only get out one thing.

“When can I see you next?”

His optimism was enough to shatter you. It pretty much did every time you saw him. But the reality was that you were from Zaun. When you left here, there was nothing truly left for you but to return to the Undercity.

As much as you’d like to believe that he understood you, that he wasn’t like everyone else in Piltover, there was always a disconnect. Whenever he’d let slip tales of his encounters with people from “down there” or referred to the collective as a “them,” you grimaced. The rhetoric was something you’d grown used to and you didn’t blame him for his upbringing.

It was just that you experienced this before. When you let yourself fall for a man a few years ago. A man with a lot of empty promises.

He swore to you that keeping your secret was the best thing for you both, a claim of protecting your love. But when you found out that he got married to another woman, one from Piltover at that, you knew it was a lie. Their beautiful kid was just the Shimmer on top.

So when Jayce looked at you with longing, vocalizing his need for you to at least return to him, you couldn’t. Despite the pieces of you shattering consistently—his attempts to glue them back together were futile. You liked the disfigurement. You liked the constant reminder that people fucking suck.

You maneuvered around him, ignoring the slump in his shoulders.

“So this thing, can I have it?”

He cleared his throat, “Oh- um- it’s not exactly…ready.”

“Seems ready to me.”

“It’s not.” He walked over, standing protectively in front of it.

“But I just came,” you whispered, “like all over you and it…”

“Well I wouldn’t say all over…” on his face would’ve been better.

“It got the damn job done,” you outstretched your hand immediately. “So can a girl have it or not?”

“Sorry, but no.”

“Please?”

“You cannot have my prototype!”

“But I will be so gentle with it! Trust me!”

“Like you trust me?” He scoffed. He’d meant that to sound like a joke. Albeit poorly timed, he had no ill will. The way your face contorted and erased any jovial tone from you was jarring.

You turned and left without a word, ignoring his calls and an exasperated groan that echoed behind you.

——————

You were gonna find that damn thing. Sure, Jayce had pissed you off, but you needed it now…needed him. So here you were, scouring every area you could think of. You were desperate and the embarrassment of being caught was worth it.

The space between you the last week only made you more crazy. Nothing you tried came close to that day. Regardless of the annoyance you felt by his comment, it got to a point where you weren’t even mad about that anymore. You’d grown furious that he didn’t seek you out. You were absolutely fuming that you couldn’t just see him and fuck the disgruntlement out of each other like usual.

You were stubborn. It seems after two years he finally learned to be just as so.

He cleared his throat behind you, startling you.

“Funny seeing you here. I was just um- looking for…something I left here.”

“And that would be?”

“Um…” you continued to trace your hands over the various objects thrown in his drawer. “Just…” and jackpot. “Just this.”

He smirked at your mischievous half-smile. You were clearly proud of yourself, but he planned for this.

“I’m glad your scavenger hunt paid off…but as I said…you can’t have my prototypes.”

“Jayce-”

He shook his head, slowly stepping towards you, “Unfortunately you’d need this.”

A glimmer of blue suddenly appeared between you two.

“Wow.”

You’d never actually seen one of these crystals so close up. Jayce went on and on about how fragile they were—how important it was for you to never touch any of his work things. Oops.

You two were closer now, the fluorescent orb the only barrier between you.

“Jayce, it’s beautiful.”

His look of fulfillment deterred for a brief second, no longer excited at the prospect of taunting you. He was staring directly at you now. The fondness in your eyes, a lack of tension he seldom saw these days. You were stunning. Sure, the magic in his hands was alluring, but nothing compared to you.

“Beautiful…right…it is.”

You rarely missed one of these moments between you and Jayce. In fact, you had yearned for one all week. You just couldn’t shake that little gremlin on your shoulder, though, that told you this was the perfect opening.

You pushed up a bit, teetering on your toes, and kissed his lips gingerly. Pushing him towards the nearest chair felt like muscle memory. It helped that he was as eager as you were, leading you towards the seat.

You made a spectacle of trailing down his arms, kissing his neck, and whispering how good he was being. You didn’t have to check, you knew he was already hard. Probably dripping too.

When you motioned to undo his pants, he instinctively leaned his head back, relaxing into the chair.

He’d felt a tightness around his wrist and a clink.

Without even looking he huffed. “I didn’t know you still had those.”

“A girl never goes anywhere without her state-of-the-art hextech handcuffs, does she?”

You’d slyly bound one of his arms to the armrest, yanking the blue ball from his palm. While moving to combine it with his little creation you couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“So…what do we do for the golden boy when he’s…not so good?” You looked around the room as if waiting for a reply. “Oh, I know!”

You slowly sat on the chair across from him, kicking off a shoe at a time. Then your pants. His eye contact lingered on you as always. He remained silent until you’d just been in underwear, not bothering to take off anything above that.

“I think we need to have Talis watch until he learns to behave.”

“Fuck-“

“Tsk, already off to a bad start.”

You slowly traced your hands down, removing the last article of clothing between you. You chuckled a bit, flinging the underwear toward him.

In the second he’d taken to observe your panties at his feet, you finally started in on yourself. The vibration was as good as you remembered, better.

You rubbed yourself slowly, looking at Jayce’s jaw hang across the room, he eyes fluttering closed with a groan.

“Look at me, look at how wet I am.”

He lowered his eyes, a free hand grasping at himself.

You stopped abruptly, “Jayce…I’ll only do this if you keep your hands off the merchandise.”

He whined at that, a pleading look in his eyes. “Please…”

“Do you want me to keep going or not?” You’d waved the thing around for emphasis, like a damn teacher at the academy. He’d choked up even more, it already glistening with your wetness over it.

The silence and removal of his hand were enough for you to resume, “Good job, baby.”

The lowest level vibration was good. It had you in a constant bliss comparable to when Jayce first used it. You need more. A second later, the speed increased. A surprised yelp resounded from you, looking at the man across from you.

“You’re right. This is…how’d you say…intuitive?”

“Oh god…” The thought of his creation working seamlessly for you had him weak. He’d put a lot of work into this, and watching was making him insane.

“You’re so smart, baby.” You sped up the circles on your clit, “nobody could make me feel like this.” The sensation increased on you again, your back meeting the couch, hips writhing towards the air and into the forsaken device. You were sure this type of goodness had to be illegal.

You couldn’t see him anymore, but the gasping from him spurred you on. You reached two fingers as best you could into you, but your arms were so short.

“Mmm…Jayce,” you called his name repeatedly. Needing that one particular sound from him. When a whimper finally echoed from him, you peaked to see a tear drip from his eye. His hand clawed at his chest and neck, finding no release at the ache in his pants.

He begged, then, “Please, please, please.”

You continued your increasingly quick rubs on yourself, breathing out your reply, “We both know you could get out whenever you wanted.”

It was true, but he was so caught up in you. The sound, the view, the euphoria filling his body. He made prototypes for a reason—each model requiring an escape or fail-safe only he knew. How stupid would it be to be trapped by my own tech, he’d thought.

With a swift pull, he was free, large strides booming towards you.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, sweetheart.”

He looked down and swatted your fingers away, replacing them with his own. The way he utilized his dexterity always shocked you. Pulses of his fingers softly rubbing inside of you made you incoherent. He observed your rubbing get frantic and off rhythm.

He slowly pulled his fingers from you, the absence painfully aware to you.

“Say it again,” the man urged. He’d even stopped your work on yourself.

“Wha- say what?” You were insatiable, this wasn't the time.

“That nobody could do this…make you feel this way.” He stared up at you, his lids half closed.

You reached out to him, a thumb falling under his eye. You softly wiped the tears from his cheeks, moving the rogue piece of hair out of his face.

“You did so good, Jayce.” You paused, thinking this was a boundary you shouldn't dare cross. Reason was far, though, completely out of your grasp. “There’s nobody. Nobody in this time or the next that could be as good as you are to me.”

The true weight of your statement was apparent for you both. It wasn’t just about how your bodies molded to each other, but rather the way you understood each other outside of this.

So he had to ask.

“You’re sure?”

“I trust you.” A light flashed in your eyes, “only you.”

There wasn’t much to be said, then. He immediately took hold of your wrist, urging you to start again. He simultaneously latched his mouth onto you, slurping you up like he was fucking famished.

Your hand cramped a bit, but you knew he had you. Not a beat was missed as he took the small vibration and turned it up to the max, jutting your clit up and down between you.

Your breath was gone. Between his strangled moans and the pure pleasure you were feeling, all you could do was grip at his hair.

“Jayce, please-“

He didn’t say much, just the sound of his mouth reverberating into you filled the room. The feeling of him whining made your eyes fall back. He knew this was a lot, but you deserved it.

“I can’t believe it…my sweet girl…finally using her words.”

He mumbled an apology for the break in sensation, reaching for your hand. He allowed the sensation of the couch in front of him to press into him, just enough to get him towards relief.

His mouth and hand found a pace that had you finally letting out the pressure that built inside of you. You shrieked, Jayce still sucking on you; he wanted every last drop of you. This was reward enough for him today.

He rose, seeing the dazed look on you, tears dripping from your eyes. He made sure to kiss them away on each side, the sting on his lips refreshing.

You leaned up on your elbows, nodding for him to get down beside you.

“Your turn-“

He motioned down, “Oh, I’m good actually.” The flower-like color found his face again.

“You never could last, golden boy.”

He pulled off the layers on him, laying down next to you in nothing. “You know I hate that…the golden boy thing.” He pulled a blanket over the two of you.

“You only hate it because of expectations,” you yawned and mumbled the rest to him. “You want to be a role model…I get it.” You turned to snuggle with him. “But there’s a sort of beauty in imperfection…”

He let the words linger in the air for a second. The ease with which you’d dropped such a profound idea in his lap was customary for you.

You’d changed his outlook on life, truly. It was why he’d secretly started working on something with the council. The distinction between Zaun and Piltover was something that needed a change. If not a complete overhaul, at least efforts made at integration. He wanted you to feel safe seeing him; the thought of you sneaking here every time physically ailed him.

But when he heard the breathing coming from you—he figured his brain had suffered the torment of him enough for one day.

You jolted awake a bit later. Jayce was asleep, snores emanating from his mouth. The sound was devastatingly sweet.

You slipped from him, quickly putting on your clothes. You didn’t want to do this. Not again. Not to him. But you truly couldn’t help it. If there was any tether between you and Jayce Talis, you’d rip it away every time.

With a sullen look, you turned to him again. You wished you could see his eyes now, having taken their studying of you for granted. You could only analyze his hair lying over his face, or the flare of his nostrils as he slept. It was certain, that whatever you couldn’t burn into your brain now would be lost forever.

Like you said, you weren’t an artist. You wished you were. You’d copy this sight in its entirety, because you were never coming back.

part three

[santanasaintmendes]

“i wish i was who you drunk texted at midnight”

wc!: 5.2k (i’m sorry i’ve got serious problems ���)

ollie bearman x reader + childhood friends to ?

warnings: angst asf, heartbreak, swearing, let me know if there are any more!

part 2

summary: after moving to Chelmsford you meet ollie, the two of you quickly become friends but unfortunately you fall for Ollie. he moves away for f2 and leaves you, until he’s supposed to race in Jeddah. you fly there only to gain more than what you bargained for

type: angst (cliff hanger ending IM SORRY)

a/n: this is just something I wrote because I was sick in bed the last few days, it’s super long but so hope yall like it! Also i’m sorry if it’s bad lol i am still sick and this is just something i wrote for fun to entertain myself. ALSO no hate to Estelle Ogilvy (is that how i spell her last name) i just used her for the plot of the story please don’t come after me.). The name is inspired by “drunk text” by Henry Moodie, please give it a listen it’s such a good song, enjoy xxx

They say that you should always be friends with the person you like before you start to fall for them. Well, that’s one thing you could check off the list if you looked back on your friendship with Ollie. The truth was, being in love with your best friend sucked. Friends can break your heart too, something people tend to forget. 

6 and 6 

The first time you ever met Ollie was in a library. A week prior to that you had moved to a strange town named Chelmsford. A name that 6-year-old you found difficult to pronounce, to be frank everything in the new town sounded different to what you were used to. The people there spoke with such a different accent to what you were used to, it would take you quite a while to get used to it. As you sat in the back of the taxi with your backpack at your feet, you stared out the fogged up window. The sky was a gloomy grey and the landscape seemed to be an endless plain of sad looking meadows. 

You couldn’t seem to understand why your parents would choose to move to such a sad looking place, it didn’t make any sense. The taxi soon came to a slow stop, the brakes squealing loudly. You glanced out the window hopefully, rubbing the condensation away with your sleeve. Only to be disappointed to see a boring brick building of some sort. It was an odd combination of white wooden window frames and red bricks, like something out of one of those 1600s movies your Father once showed you. You anxiously looked back to your Mother who was watching you as your Father sorted out something with the taxi driver. Upon seeing your unhappy face your Mother chuckled softly.

“I heard that there’s a library just down the street, maybe sometime this week we could visit it.” she offered. You nodded, slightly content. Reading books was something you enjoyed and maybe with a library being close by, not all was lost. 

As it turned out, that boring brick building was your new house. 

Despite having to unpack and sort adult-y things out, your Mother took you to the library just as she had promised. As you skipped down the cobbled road, your Mother held a bright yellow umbrella over your head to shield you from the rain that was pouring down from the cloudy grey sky. 

You pushed upon the heavy front door to the library which also happened to look like a sad white brick square with a pointy red roof, a depressed mushroom if you will. You halted in your steps as giant wood bookcases rose before you, shelves full of books. Never had you ever seen so many books before. In the corner there was a lady sorting things in a trolley with her back turned to you, she still hadn’t noticed you. 

“C’mon, let’s head to the kids section.” your Mother said, taking you by the hand and leading you deeper into the library. Stunned by the amount of books that filled the shelves you couldn’t help but wander off when your Mother told you to stay put while she set up a borrowing card for you. 

Luckily, the children’s section of the library was much more pleasant looking than the eerie hallways of adult books. You scanned the shelves in search of something to read, until you came to a stop. Two round brown eyes among the books blinked from the other side of the shelf, scaring you. 

It was a boy. 

You blinked back, unsure of what to do. So you did what any other 6 year old did when they believed they had found a new friend. 

“Do you want to read with me?” you abruptly asked the boy who was still staring at you with wide eyes. A moment of silence passed before he nodded slowly, the boy rounded the corner. He wasn’t much taller than you with chocolate brown hair and small freckles that spilled over his face like tiny stars. He stuck out his hand, “I’m Oliver. But my friends call me Ollie.” he greeted, a smile taking over his face. His voice sounded odd, like the taxi driver who’d driven you from the airport to your new house. Ollie reminded you of a rabbit with his two front teeth that seemed to take up over half of his face, but you didn’t say anything because your Mother told you that saying things like that wasn’t nice. 

You took his hand cautiously in yours, “I’m Y/N.” you replied slowly. He enthusiastically shook your hand, taking you by surprise as he led you to sit down on the bright coloured bean bags. You watched curiously as he picked a book off the shelf before plopping down next to you again. You peered over as he opened the book to the first page, you frowned, not recognising the book. 

“It’s a book called Where’s Wally (Where’s Waldo if you’re American). You have to find the characters, there’s Wally, Wenda, the wizard guy and Woof - that’s the dog.” Ollie explained to you, pointing to each character on the page. The initial nervousness of meeting another kid, melting away. You began to feel excited as you nodded along while Ollie continued to explain how to play. The two of you spent the next hour doing all sorts of things, talking about favourite colours, favourite animals, reading books, drawing, playing board games together. Both getting along so easily it was as if you guys had known each other forever. That was until you heard your Mother calling your name to go home. 

You stood up, looking down at Ollie who was still seated on a yellow bean bag. He blinked up at you, with those big brown eyes that had scared you only an hour earlier. “I have to go home now.” you told him, a wave of sadness passing between the two of you as you both realised your fun had come to an end. 

“That’s okay, maybe I’ll see you at school.” he suggested hopefully upon seeing your downcast face. You broke into a smile, “Okay, bye Ollie.” you waved slowly as you began to walk away. Ollie waved back with a giant grin on his face as he watched you disappear behind the wooden bookshelves. 

“Hey Mom!” you called out to your Mother as she came into view, she was chatting with the lady who you’d seen at the desk sorting books. She paused and turned to you, “Hey, I was just talking to the librarian, she was saying about how she has a son who hangs out here while she works on the weekend.” 

Putting two and two together you realised that the book lady was Ollie’s Mother. You smiled at the lady, “I was playing with Ollie, we were reading that one book, ‘Where’s  . .  .” You trailed off, racking your brain for the name of the book he’d shown you. 

“Where’s Wally?” the librarian offered, she nodded fondly. “That’s his favourite book.” You grinned up at the lady, looking back in the direction where you’d been playing with Ollie.

“Mom, am I going to the school as Ollie?” you asked, looking up at your Mother. She chuckled softly before nodding, “As a matter of fact, you are.” 

Those golden words were what made you unbelievably excited to begin at your new school. You had barely been able to sleep with the thought of seeing your new friend again, so on that Monday morning you bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. “Good morning!” you greeted both your parents, taking a seat at the dining table, legs swinging off the chair impatiently. 

“Someone’s excited for their first day of school.” your Mother hummed as she set a plate of pancakes in front of you. You nodded, “I get to see my new friend.” you replied as you stuffed your mouth with your breakfast. 

You were basically pulling your Mother through the front gates as you scanned the sea of other children in the same uniform as you. The uniform also happened to be grey, it complimented the terrible weather perfectly. Your eyes fell onto the brown haired-freckled boy from two days earlier, you ran up to him, “Hi Ollie.” you smiled. A giant grin took over the boy’s face, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Where one of you went, the other followed right behind, Ollie helped you adjust to your new school, showing you around and never leaving you by yourself. As the years passed the two of you only became closer, though you would soon find out that that wasn’t the greatest thing. 

13 and 13

As the two of you grew into teenagers, things began to change and not always for the better. Ollie and you still remained close friends, having dinner at one another’s house on Friday’s, walking home together after school and occasionally spending afternoons playing Mario Kart with Ollie’s siblings. Your families were also extremely close now courtesy to both you and Ollie, his younger siblings becoming like your own. But the worst thing? 

You’d caught feelings for Ollie, it had been so sudden almost like it had crept up on you, taking you by surprise. You didn’t understand. It felt so wrong. 

One day out of the blue it hit you like a pile of bricks, you just couldn’t stop staring at him. Absolutely enchanted by him, his chocolate brown hair, those pretty freckles that you’d memorised on his face. 

Ollie was like a brother to you, he was your best friend, so how come you felt these things for him?

To make matters even worse for little 13 year old you, Ollie liked another girl. A girl who absolutely hated your guts. 

What had you done to her? You didn’t know. 

You and Ollie had been having a sleepover when he told you about her, her name was Estelle Ogilvy. She was gorgeous and untouchable, by far the prettiest girl you’d ever seen. You didn’t hold a candle to her and you knew it too. Ollie had been hopelessly in love with her since the start of high school when he shared science and maths class with her. Time and time again he would ramble on about her to you, completely oblivious to your feelings for him. You could only nod along wishing it was you who he was talking about. That’s just how it was, you were stuck in a bubble of unrequited love. So all you could do now was watch from afar as Ollie ran after a girl who you just knew would never like him as much as he liked her. 

15 and 15

Ollie’s karting career really took off in the last few years and you couldn’t have been prouder, those feelings for him still lingered around but you’d come to terms that he’d never like you in the same way. Because there he was, still stuck on chasing Estelle. You couldn’t blame him, and maybe that’s what you were always just supposed to be, friends. 

Yet you were jealous, something you refused to admit. Jealous of Estelle because oh how you wished to be talked about so fondly by Ollie. To always be on his mind, to be the girl he liked and would never shut up about. You still didn’t understand why you felt this way, in your mind it made absolutely zero sense. Then why did it feel so right when you were by his side, almost like you belonged there next to him? But Ollie being Ollie could just never get a hint whenever you tried to subtly let him know. It sucked because there’s nothing worse than loving someone who’ll never love you the same way. 

18 and 18 

It got worse as the years passed, your feelings for your best friend would just not go away. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you tried to find another boy to fawn over, your gaze would always fall back on Ollie. But he was dating Estelle now, he was in Formula 2 now. It almost seemed like an eternity ago when you first met him in the library just down your street. An eternity ago when you would attend his karting races, cheering the loudest for him in the stands. All of that was now in the past. You barely even saw him now that he had dropped out of school to pursue his career in Formula 2. Now all you could do now was watch from a distance as he looked the happiest you’d seen him in ages.

He was spectacular at what he did, you would watch him race on TV every week no matter what hour the race was or even if you had school the next day. 

Yet inside of you there was a giant hole, a hole that Ollie had left behind when he abandoned you. Abandoned was a bit of a stretch but it was the only word you could use to sum up what you had felt when he left. Ollie had to move to Italy for his career, news that he hadn’t even told you in person, you had to hear it from his Mother. He’d taken your hands in his at the airport as he waited to board his plane and promised you he’d stay in touch, that he’d call every week but here you were with the last time you’d spoken to him being over a month ago. 

You refused to be the first one to reach out to him, you felt like he owed you that much effort at least. So you waited  . . . and waited only for the world to keep spinning while you were stuck in the past. That was until you finally realised that you had never meant as much to Ollie as he had to you. 

19 and 19 - present day 

“Y/N! WAKE UP OR YOU’LL BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!” your Mother’s voice echoed up to your bedroom, rattling the glass in the window frames. You groaned as you groggily sat up, pulling open the curtains only to be greeted with dark overcast weather, rain pouring down outside. You rubbed your eyes, yawning as you dragged yourself out of bed. It was your second year of university studying mechanical engineering at the biggest university in Chelmsford. It proved to be difficult with its endless nights of staying up doing work but you knew it would be worth it in the end. 

Your university never failed to confuse you and make you late for class with all of its giant identical hallways. You ran down the corridors, heels clacking on the marble floor until you came to a stop at the door to where your lecture was for that day. Slipping through the door you weaved through the seats of the auditorium to find an empty seat. Luckily for you, your friend Bianca saved a seat for you. 

“Thanks.” you whispered only to be shot dirty glares by the students around you. You winced as you looked ahead at the teacher in an attempt to catch on what he was droning on about. Bianca gently nudged you, passing her phone to you. You frowned, eyebrows knitted as you looked down at the screen. A notice on Ferrari's official instagram with Ollie’s face plastered above the words “Oliver Bearman to race in Jeddah this weekend for Carlos Sainz.” 

You narrowed your eyes and huffed, passing the phone back to Bianca who smiled nervously. “What was the point of that?” you whispered, leaning closer to her. Bianca sighed, “You’re not fooling anyone, I know you still have unresolved feelings for him.” she whispered back only to get a loud shushing sound from a nearby student. 

Bianca shot them a glare before turning back to you, “You have to go, I don’t care what you say. You are going. This is his Formula 1 debut, whether you’re still friends with him or not you’ve got to be there for him.” she whispered-shouted, looking at you sternly. You sighed, leaning back into your chair, shaking your head. 

“It’s not the same anymore. He’s clearly forgotten about me, the last time we spoke was last year and he’s been back home 4 times in the last 12 months.” 

Silence hung in the air, only the voice of the teacher rambling on and on about something you still hadn’t caught on about. 

“That Estelle girl, she’s clearly using him. You were his best friend, surely that means something to you both.” Bianca tried again but it wasn’t any use. There was no purpose in bringing up something that you both had clearly tried so hard  to forget about. 

So then why were you here booking a flight to Jeddah to watch your old best friend debut in Formula 1? 

It was something you couldn’t answer and didn’t want to. 

The thing that you hated the most is that you didn’t even think twice before booking those tickets. 

How could you care so much about a person who had so blatantly forgotten about you?

Deep down you knew the answer, it was because to you Ollie was like your home. He was the first person to make you feel like you actually belonged somewhere, he never abandoned you to eat lunch alone at school, he never cancelled plans once you made them, he was a good person, a good friend. 

Or at least he was. 

Were you insane? The answer was yes, yes you were insane. Being here was so crazy; it nearly made you want to turn around and jump on the next flight back home. You were standing in line to go through the gates when you heard someone call your name. You secretly hoped it was Ollie but much to your disappointment it was . . . Arthur?

Ollie had introduced you to Arthur back when they had raced in Formula 3 together. You hadn’t seen him in forever. 

“Arthur?” you questioned as he pulled you into a hug, you hugged him back before pulling away, still unable to believe it was him. 

“I was about to ask what you’re doing here but that would be dumb.” you confessed, only noticing now the massive crowd that was surrounding the two of you. Arthur chuckled before nodding in the direction of the gate, “C’mon, I can get you in, you’ll be my guest.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you began but Arthur was already pushing you through the gates. Walking back onto a race track was like taking a breath of fresh air after being in a car for a long time. You used to accompany Ollie to all of his karting races each weekend in Chelmsford, so being in the stands had become like a second home to you. 

“Are you here for Ollie?” Arthur asked as you walked in the direction of the motorhomes. You caught yourself before you could answer too irrationally, “No, I’m just here to watch the race.” you shrugged, realising how dumb that sounded as soon as it left your mouth. No good person would fly all the way to Saudi Arabia to watch a race if there was a Grand Prix in their own country.  If you wanted to “just watch a race” you could’ve watched it on TV or gone to the Silverstone GP. Arthur only hummed, you knew he had already caught on, it was so obvious it made you want to dig a hole and jump in. 

“Anyways,” you quickly said, eager to move onto a different topic.

“Anyways.” Arthur agreed, looking at you, eyebrows raised. “You can’t fool me, I’ve known it since the moment I met you.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “What am I going to say to him?” you asked, looking to Arthur for help. He shrugged, “No clue but you might want to think of something quickly because he’s walking over right now.”

“Y/N?” 

You blinked as you came face to face with the person you wanted to see so badly for the last year and now that you were here facing him it felt like all the air in you had gotten sucked right out. He looked  the same since the last time you saw him. In the last year you wanted to hate Ollie so much but it was impossible because you still loved him and that was the big terrible truth that you refused to admit. 

“Hi. Ollie.” you said, to not let the jumble of words that you’ve kept in since the last time you saw him spill out. Arthur sent you a quick salute, “Gotta go, I’ll see you afterwards, Y/N.” and with that he left you with Ollie in silence. 

“What are you doing here?” Ollie finally asked, he was acting so . . .  so normal. As if nothing had changed between the two of you.

“I’m here because I’m your number 1 fan, remember?” you scoffed, looking up at him. A reminder of the time when you were both 10, Ollie gifted you a t-shirt at Christman with the words: “Ollie’s No.1 fan.” plastered on it for you to wear to his karting races. It was sure to be buried deep in your wardrobe somewhere. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, “Yeah you are.” guilt written all over his face. 

“Why’d you leave me then? Tell me the truth, did I do something wrong? Was I too normal for you?” you asked, questions pouring out of you. 

“We were best friends, how could you just leave me like that? Do I mean nothing to you? Because you were everything to me, my best friend, the first person who made me feel like I actually mattered to someone, so tell me, why did you abandon me?” 

Silence hung in the air as you stared up at Ollie. You wanted answers, perhaps it would be the only thing that would let you move on from him. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. This was so. . . so unfair. You wanted to yell, scream at him even so he could feel even a fraction of the pain you’d felt in the past year. 

“So that’s it? You don’t even have an explanation?” you asked him, your voice shaking with anger it made your throat ache as you blinked back tears. 

“I waited and waited for you to call me, to even send a message but that was a mistake. You’ll never love me in the same way that I love you.” 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, Ollie finally meeting your eyes as the three simple words left your lips. 

You’ll never love me in the same way that I love you.

The world stopped like everything had been put on pause as you realised your mistake. You felt like you’d gotten hit on the head with a cricket bat. 

“I have to go.” is all that left your mouth as you turned around. The ground was moving like a spinning wheel - a blurry mess of colours. It made you sick to your stomach as you walked away, your cheeks flushed hot and your forehead sticky with sweat. Ollie didn’t even call out for you, nor run after you for an explanation because it was so blatantly clear what you’d just confessed to him. 

You wished you could hate him, hate the fact that he’d left you, forgotten you like an old stuffed toy, you hated that he didn’t love you. 

You sat on the curb, clutching your knees outside of the entrance to the racetrack wallowing in self-pity. Wiping away tears that just kept falling down your face much to your distaste. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the buildings, the sky now a deep shade of orange. You stared at your feet, it was dumb, you should’ve known that coming here to Jeddah was a mistake. Ollie had moved on, something that you hadn’t done in the last year. You felt so stupid, why did you believe you could repair your friendship?

Why did you-

“Excuse me?” a voice interrupted your train of thought, you quickly wiped your tears and looked up to see Arthur standing beside you, a pitiful smile on his face. You looked away, “What do you want?” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest bitterly. Arthur sat down beside you, watching you closely as you stared at the trees in the distance. He sighed, “The race is about to start and Ollie’s not coming out of his driver room. Estelle said she’d be here but she’s not and he’s locked himself in.” 

The words hung heavy in the air, “And what does that have to do with me?” you asked flatly. You knew exactly what he meant. But you weren’t going to do that, you were done with Ollie and everything to do with him. 

“You know exactly what it has to do with you. Did you really think Ollie forgot about you that easily? You’re dumber than I thought.” he quipped unhelpfully. 

“Thanks,” you muttered miserably, Arthur winced. 

“What I meant is that you can’t give up this easily, you and I both know how stupid Ollie can be sometimes.” 

You chuckled softly, letting a tiny smile creep onto your face. Arthur wasn’t wrong. When you and Ollie were both 8 you invited him over for Easter to make coloured eggs. It resulted in 20 cracked eggs on the kitchen tiles when Ollie accidentally knocked them off the bench. The two of you had stared at the mess on the ground before bursting out laughing until you were both in tears. It was safe to say that you both spent the next 2 hours scrubbing the tiles and the yolk that had stained the grout in between them. 

“Yeah.” you said softly, looking at the sun that had been swallowed by the top of the palm trees, the stars in the sky beginning to appear as you sat in the light underneath a lamp post. 

“So?”

“Okay, I’ll get him out of the room but after that I’m out of here. I want to go home.” 

Arthur gave you a quick thumbs up as you raised your hand to knock gently on the door to the driver’s room. There wasn’t a reply, only dead silence and that’s when you heard it, crying from inside the room. 6-year-old you would’ve kicked down the door and done anything to get to your best friend. But here you stood outside the room, sending hopeless glances at Arthur who was standing behind you. 

“Ollie?” you called out hesitantly, the crying halted and there was another long moment of silence. You pressed your ear up against the door, waiting for an answer. 

“Yeah?” his shaky voice replied, you breathed a sigh of relief. You turned around, beckoning Arthur to leave you both, he only nodded, mouthing ‘OK’ as he slipped down the hallway. Turning back to the driver’s room you took a deep breath in, you didn’t want to go in. You didn’t think you could face him after what happened earlier. 

“You came,” he said as your hand rested on the handle of the door but there was resistance, it was still locked. 

“Of course, are you okay?” you asked, immediately regretting asking as soon as it left your mouth. You cursed yourself silently as you awaited Ollie’s answer. Soft sniffles came from the other side of the door, “Yeah.” he finally replied quietly but loud enough for you to hear from the other side of the door.

What were you supposed to say to get him out of the driver’s room?

“Everyone’s waiting for you, you can’t stay in there forever.” you gently reminded him, sighing as you sat down, back leaning up against the door. There was another long moment of silence as you rested your head on the door, stretching your legs out for comfort. 

“I don’t think I can do it.” he said, taking you by surprise. The Ollie you’d known wasn’t afraid of anything, he was confident in almost everything he did, almost it seemed. 

“Oliver, you’re being crazy. You are by far the most talented driver I’ve ever seen.” you told him, staring at the roof of the building as you heard a sigh from the other side of the door. “You’re just saying that because you’re my girlfriend, Estelle.” 

You froze as if you’d just been stabbed by icicles, Ollie thought you were Estelle. 

Of course. He’d been expecting her, Arthur had told you before. You scoffed to yourself quietly, you would’ve stood up and left if it wasn’t the fact that you were here to get Ollie out of the driver’s room he had oh so nicely locked himself in. You let out a soft sigh as you racked your brain for what you should say to him. 

“I’m not. It’s the truth, Ollie.” you told him with a heavy heart, feeling as if you were just setting yourself up to get your heart broken all over again. You took a deep breath in, “You are such an amazing driver it’s literally insane, not only that but you’re by far the kindest, most selfless person I know. It’s crazy that you think you can’t do this, because I know that you can. Ferrari chose you to drive for them for a reason, they know what you’re capable of, everyone else does too. I see you and you’re extraordinary, you have this spark inside you that’s amazing. And . . . maybe that’s the reason why I love you. I always have, and when I had the chance I should’ve told you but I didn’t because your friendship has always meant more to me than my own feelings.” you let out a shaky breath. 

“You’re a good person, Ollie. You’ve earned a chance to show the world just how great and insanely talented you are, are you really going to throw it away?” 

You blinked back tears, who knew you could get so emotional after giving such a life changing speech?

You rubbed your eyes and cleared your throat, letting out a deep sigh. It was time to leave now, Ollie would have realised by now that it was you who was speaking to him and not Estelle. As you began to get up, leaning against the door for support you heard a click!

Oh shit, was the only thought that went through your mind as you lost your footing and fell backwards, the door frame offering you no help at all as you grasped at it helplessly. You stared up at Ollie as you laid at his feet, a million thoughts racing through your mind. He was in his fireproofs with his race suit tied around his waist as he looked down at you, eyebrows knitted. There were tear stains on his flushed cheeks as he stared at you with those wide brown eyes you’d seen among the books all those years ago. 

“Y/N?” 

a/n: sorry if it was so quick and rushed i just wanted to post something! Thank you if you got the end, ik it was super long for no reason, so thank you! Please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you and have an amazing day xx

[calicoheartz]

“Baby I” - Paige Bueckers♡

summary : jealous Paige Bueckers x reader !

wc ; 897

synopsis : inspired by the song “baby i” by Ariana Grande :) Paige’s jealousy often gets in the way of your relationship, so what happens when you interact with a particularly attractive stranger?

warning : angst , suggestive content , jealousy / possessiveness

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : look at me having a posting streak !! decided to try something new today, so I hope yall enjoy ◡̈

You and Paige had been dating for not too long, but your relationship had certainly developed into one where strong feelings and emotions played a huge factor in your everyday lives.

It was no secret to you that Paige was jealous, envious even; it caused you a fair share of problems throughout your relationship. Whether it was through jealous ridden comments, or snarky remarks, it was slowly starting to take a toll on you.

You and Paige were invited to go bar hopping with the team, as a celebration of the victorious win for Uconn. The free spirited and ambient environment encouraged you to let loose, encouraging you to not only grab a drink from the bar, but to strike up a couple of conversations with individuals around you.

It’s not that Paige didn’t want you to talk to other people, it’s just that when it comes to you; she’s very, how do I word this.. Overbearing? Whether it was constantly having her hands glued to your waist, peppering your face with kisses, or shooting bitter looks and whoever even dares to be just a little too friendly.

On this particular night, a very attractive character to say the least, approached you; beginning to start a simple conversation. Asking things like your name, complimenting your outfit, and overall trying to learn more about you

From across the room, you can see the blonde staring intensely at you, giving you a disapproving look; signaling you to end the conversation. You furrowed your brows and gave her a confused look back, not understanding how the conversation was moving south in any way.

You quickly turned back around, further continuing your conversation with the stranger, when all of a sudden you feel a harsh tug on your wrist. “It was nice meeting you, but we have to go.” And just like that, there you were, being dragged out of the bar by your girlfriend. Who seemed incredibly pissed.

The drive back home was unbearable, no words were exchanged between you two. The blonde never acknowledging you on your journey back home, knuckles white due to her intense grip on the steering wheel. You couldn’t tell if she was upset, disappointed, horny, or a mix of all 3.

As soon as you reached your apartment, your nerves were eating you alive. You had no idea what was waiting for you once you reached your apartment door.

You quickly hurried inside, and situated yourself on your shared couch. Waiting for her to say something. You felt your heart pounding, unable to even form coherent words. When you realized the endless silence, you simply muttered out a “I’m..sorry?.” Paige rolled her eyes at you, scoffing in the process. “YOU’RE sorry? They were practically throwing themselves at you and all you did was stand there and let them.” You were shocked, you knew Paige could take things the wrong way, but you never imagined her of all people would think you would be the type to do that.

“Paige…” you started. “You know I love you more than anything, but you know words can’t even touch what’s in my heart,” you continued. Your eyes now spilling out tears you tried your hardest to keep in.

“Then why don’t you ever tell me?”... “I feel like I’m constantly competing with others for your attention” This statement startled you, as you knew Paige was well aware of your difficulty to express yourself, let alone reassure others. Fuck. Oh how badly you wished the floor underneath you would simply collapse, giving you any sort of escape from the high tensioned conversation.

You felt as if you were to speak, your throat would simply close up. You managed to croak out.. “It’s just when I try to explain it, I be sounding insane. Sometimes it feels like the words don’t ever come out right.” She looks at you, her gaze softening a bit; as a reaction to your sudden vulnerability.

“It’s just I don’t know…the words just never come out right when it comes to you. You make me get all tongue tied and twisted, and I literally cannot explain what I’m feeling.” “Baby-” “No.” - you cut her off. Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you. “Yes, I should’ve been more clear and work on my communication, but you need to realize that not everyone is trying to sabotage our relationship. It’s exhausting. I can’t keep isolating myself due to your jealous fits of rage.”

Paige looks at you, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill out if she even mumbles out a word. She muttered a quiet “im sorry…”, her voice cracking at the last word, her eyes glued to the floor as she anticipated your response.

As if she were a magnet, you run towards her and wrap your arms around her tall frame, gently rubbing circles into your back as sobs slowly escape her lips. This entire thing had been a complete misunderstanding, and her jealousy blinded her judgment. Through her weeps you were able to make out “i love you. All i was trying to say is that youre my everything and-”

She wasnt even able to finish her sentence as she felt your warm lips on hers, entangling her in a deep and loving kiss. “If that doesnt show you that i love you, i dont know what will”

not sure how to feel about this tbh, originally i was gonna give this a sad ending but since the song is a love song, it didn’t feel fitting. Lmk ur thoughts !! Thanks for reading ◡̈

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 

“You’re quiet.” 

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

“I like watching you clean.” 

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.” 

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 

“Can I give you a tattoo?” 

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[mystellenia]

giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ

summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.

content: nothing much, just ellie being shy

notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it

(wc 0.6 k)

after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work

you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)

after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)

and now we wait for ellie to come home!!

when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear

anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii

you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....

sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"

and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!

then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"

and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you

would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz

she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).

i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.

wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny

but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."

there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching

then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"

pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that

@picklesarenice69

wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔

can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format

like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle

dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

---

edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

ASKBOX IS OPEN REQUESTS ARE OPEN (NOV 17, 3PM-9PM EST) HERE ARE THE RULES

ground rules:

1) Funny- the request needs to be humorous, memes usually the most popular but dnd in jokes and other shitpostery is welcome. i abide by the MBMBAM NO BUMMERS rule - there are plenty of sad/deep/beautiful calligraphers out there who’d be happy to work with yall, but this isn’t that sort of channel

2) Length - aim for no more than 75 characters a request, my cue cards are only so big so I can only fit so much on each one and still not look like garbage. There is a little leeway but if you send me smth with like 120 characters it aint getting written

3) Amount of Requests - I am trying to be fair but i am one person running almost the ENTIRE thing, logistics, tech, etc, I have twitch mods and a roommate for retrieving things and that's it. In order to be fair, please restrict yourselves to 3 requests per person to let everyone have a shot, if you send in more i will ctrl-f your username and pick my favourites

4) Content - I will not do anything I consider under the umbrella of general assholery - this includes racial slurs, edgelord bullshit, exclusionist jackassery etc. Please be kind to each other. Please let me know if I’ve taken a request that is some incredibly obscure piece of assholery, someone once tried to slip a really obscure antisemetic piece of slang by me once

5) Repeats - I keyword tag EVERY SINGLE piece i’ve ever done on this blog, if you think I might have written smth already but aren’t sure, the /search/[keyword] is your friend, check if i’ve done your request before

the askbox is theshitpostcalligrapher.tumblr.com/ask , not a dm or submission to the blog. I’ll close submissions too so people don’t get the boxes confused. DM me for any actual clarifications, kind words, etc so they don’t get swallowed up by the behemoth of my askbox for months, and if you want to give me live encouragement the twitch link is right there, and is the ideal way to inquire more about any of the day's rules.

If you want to jump the ENTIRE queue and get your card done immediately, there are ways to donate on the twitch stream to get your request done with an ink of your choice. You can still submit 3 free requests in addition to what you pay for.

I’ll be streaming the entire time the askbox is open on twitch @ theshitpostcalligrapher, trying to get as many of these done today as possible live. Once 9PM EST hits, the askbox will close but if you get your request into the askbox by then, it will be done eventually as I always have 4 cards up per day.

Here’s the link to my twitch, we’ll start a little after 3 o’clock.

[mrdixon]

Be my Valentine?

pairing: daryl x f!reader

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ content, carol being daryls wingwoman, daryls crazy shy and a loser (lovingly), second person but also you see a lot of daryls thoughts, shacking up, fingering, p-in-v unprotected, little bit of overstimulation, honestly this is just bad i apologize.

summary: daryl asks you out for valentines’s day.

A/N: smut fic and chapter 4 of a rugged muse will be up soon!!!!!! im dead ass extremely soryr this took me a week so ignore the fact that this fic is ass i am stressed out of my mind. i have so many fic ideas GENUINELY but i think i just make a lot of wips and then forget… and please please dont think im abandoning a rugged muse, school has just been really stressful on top of other stuff and im trying my best to shit out stuff for yall to read.

masterlist

“So are you asking her out for Valentines?” Daryl’s head turned to the grey haired woman who was baking up whatever she could make out of flour… and water. Carol raised a brow at him to which he scoffed, shaking his head and returning his attention to cleaning his arrows.

“Dun’ know wha’ yer talkin’ abou’,” he grumbled, kicking his feet up onto the counter. Carol sighed, swatting his feet off.

“Come on, I see the way you look at (Y/N).” Daryl glared at Carol and sat up straight, huffing.

“’s not like tha’,” he watched her stir the flour mixture with a look of curiosity and disgust. The woman rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself, finally adding some sort of seasoning to whatever she was making.

“She likes you too,” Carol hummed while grabbing a dish to pour the concoction in. Daryl sighed, leaning back in his chair as he thought it over. There was no way. No way that you would see him like that, he was just a sleazy red neck. You were completely out of his league, you two were too different.

“Nah,” he shook his head and stood up, taking his arrows before making his way to his basement bedroom.

“Just think about it!” He shook his head as he heard Carol call after him, walking down the stairs and into his bedroom. Daryl threw his arrows onto the couch, taking his vest off while entering the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, and frowned. No way.

You were too sweet, so full of life. So pretty, so soft spoken. Compared to him you were an angel. You liking a guy like him was close to impossible. Nevertheless, Daryl looked into the mirror, trying to crack a smile.

“Hey…” Daryl’s cheeks flushed, this was stupid. His hands landed on the edge of the sink counter, dipping his head down as he tried to compose himself. He looked back up, trying a soft smile this time. “Do ya wanna be my Valentine?” He groaned and stepped away from the mirror, “bullshit.”

Daryl frustratingly stepped out of his clothes and into the shower, turning the tap on cold. He closed his eyes as he let his thoughts run around in his head. Asking you out would be nice… but so embarrassing.

His shower ended quicker than anticipated, his towel hanging over his shoulders as he left the bathroom. He picked out a black button up and some clean pants, so basically his usual attire. He ruffled his hair in the towel before tossing it into the hamper, and made his way back upstairs.

His hair was still damp and hung around his eyes as he walked into the kitchen where the fresh smell of bread filled his nostrils.

“Ya made bread?” Daryl furrowed his brows as he grabbed a glass of water, hearing Carol snicker.

“I did, someone’s here for you.” Daryl placed his glass down, turning to her. His eyes quickly met yours and he immediately brushed his hair back, cursing silently to himself.

You looked perfect just sitting there at the counter, your eyes wide as you took in his appearance. It made him feel slightly insecure to be quite honest, but he also noticed how there was some sort of admiration in your gaze. You both kind of stared at each other, just taking each other in. Carol watched this whole thing, clearing her throat.

“Okay… I’m gonna let you guys do your thing, bread’s still hot so don’t eat it.” Carol winked at Daryl before exiting the kitchen. Daryl practically rolled his eyes at the wink but quickly recovered. He looked back over at you, noticing how you rubbed your hands together. He knew that was some sort of grounding technique you used when you were anxious, so why were you feeling anxious right now? He rubbed his chin, and grabbed his glass while walking over to you. You straightened up, offering him a soft smile. His adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and sat down next to you.

He discreetly looked you up and down, but you noticed, and it made you even more anxious. Daryl took a sip of his water, unsure if he should speak first.

“So—”

“I wan—”

You both spoke at the same time, reverting back to awkward silence. Daryl huffed, drinking more water and felt slightly more self conscious about how loud he swallowed. You on the other hand, stared off to the side, wishing you also had some water to wet the dryness in your throat.

“You first,” Daryl rasped. You slowly turned back to him, your thoughts vanishing from all you wanted to say to him.

“Um,” you cleared your hoarse throat. “You first, I kind of… forgot what I was gonna say.” You lied, you literally were going to ask him out for Valentines. As cheesy as it is, you both being grown adults, but still… it’d be nice.

Daryl froze, is this the time? He watched you carefully, giving himself the benefit of the doubt. He gulped down the rest of his water, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth.

“Wanna be my Valentine?” He cringed mentally as the words slipped out his mouth, regretting it entirely. “Or don’ I was jus’ jokin’… or somethin’ I don’ know.” He looked away, the tips of his ears red. You almost chuckled at his embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Daryl’s head snapped back towards you, his eyes wide. You sat there and smiled at him while his mouth was agape. You could almost see his thought process, but his eyes were dead set on you. You tilted your head, waiting for him to respond with a cheeky little grin playing on your lips.

“Jokin’?” He asked to which you shook your head, still with that same cheeky grin. Daryl said nothing, finally breaking eye contact and rubbing his chin. “Serious?” He asked to confirm once again.

“I’m serious,” you laughed, his heart swelling at the sound of your sweet laughter. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing,” his jaw dropped at your last statement. Maybe he was as oblivious as Carol said he was. You laughed at his expression, reaching out to nudge his knee.

“Well shit,” he laughed unbelievably. “Okay then, I’ll pick ya up tomorrow?” He felt hazy just looking at you. He couldn’t imagine someone like you looking at him like that, shot by cupid’s arrow.

“Yeah, sounds nice.” You smiled again. He felt the butterflies in his stomach seeing the skin around your eyes crease when you smiled, and he almost reached out to caress your cheek. You stood up before he could and his head raised as you went. “So, I’ll see you?” Your head turned over your shoulder to look at him as you walked towards the door.

Daryl swallowed, standing up to move over to you. “Yeah,” he breathed and looked down at you. His heart thumped in his chest as he stared at your lips, watching them curve into your signature smile. He so desperately wanted to know what they felt like on his, if you wanted that is. You chuckled, lifting a finger to his lip and tapping it softly. He wanted to throw up at your touch, in a good way of course, stumbling back unexpectedly.

“See you then, Valentine.” You winked and left the house. Daryl stood there dumbfounded, his stomach all twisted in knots.

“Told you.”

Daryl frowned as he turned to see Carol leaning on the wall behind him. He rolled his eyes and walked by her, nudging his shoulder into hers.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he walked back downstairs into his bedroom. He needed another cold shower.

“Ya have ta shoot me or somethin’, I can’ do this.” Daryl grumbled into his hands while Carol paced the empty space around his bed.

“You seriously have no idea where to bring her?” Carol mumbled, staring down at the archer as he groaned and rolled around the bed. It was honestly a delight seeing her friend so distraught over this, the most she’d seen him utterly swooned.

“No, wha’ the hell I don’ look fer these things..” he groaned while Carol walked up to the side of his bed and smacked his head. He swatted her away, pulling the blankets over himself.

“What about that cabin by the lake a few miles out the gates? You could probably take her on your bike and… shack up.” Carol chuckled, grabbing the blanket and throwing it off him. He glared at her, sitting up.

“We are not shacking up.” He grumbled, “’sides, I don’ think she’ll like it.” Carol snorted, nodding reluctantly.

“I’m sure she would, especially if you stayed the night at the cabin.” Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes as he got up and thought it over. Carol watched him pace the room, rolling her eyes as she walked up to his dresser. Daryl turned his head to watch the woman rummage through his clothes, biting back a snarl as she tossed clothes out haphazardly. “Jesus christ you have a lot of… the same clothes.”

“Doesn’ make a difference wha’ ‘m wearin’,” Daryl shrugged as he walked up to her, and the two of them stared down as his identical articles of clothing. Carol huffed, side eyeing him.

“It does actually, you have to look all neat and clean for her. Shows you care about her,” Carol picked out a pair of dark wash jeans and another black button up, but at least one that had minimal rips and wrinkles. “Here, this should be good enough.” Daryl looked down at the outfit she set out, grabbing the clothing.

“Ya gonna clean this mess up or wha’?” He gestured to the heaps of clothing on his bed. Carol rolled her eyes as she pushed him into the bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah. Go change, your girl is waiting.” Daryl swallowed thickly at that comment, he felt his stomach swirl with all kinds of emotions. Excitement, fear, and nausea swarmed his stomach and he had to lean over the sink to ground himself. He had never felt this anxious before in his life. Sure he’d been on dates before, but this was different somehow. It was you he was taking out. You that he had a little school boy crush on.

Daryl ran his fingers through his hair nervously, quickly changing into the clothes Carol picked out for him. The shirt was quick tight on him and he had to pop a few buttons so he could breathe, was this the appeal he was going for? He groaned in embarrassment as he looked at himself, why was he so nervous? He wasn’t usually like this, at least not until he realized his feelings for you. He tried to convince himself you liked him back, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have agreed to go on a date with him.

A date. Daryl blushed as he came to the realization that this was in fact a date, and he was taking you out to a lake. Alone. At a cabin. He felt like he was gonna hurl.

He turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto his face, gasping for air as he just. Kept splashing his face. After he calmed his heart rate he reached for his cologne he kept by the sink. In fact it was the one, and only one, that you complimented him on every time he wore it. He sprayed himself generously, making sure he didn’t completely reek of cigarettes. Speaking of, he needed one desperately.

Daryl left the bathroom, brushing off his shoulders and making eye contact with Carol. The woman gave a warm smile, walking up to him and fixing his collar.

“Well there you go,” Carol grinned, turning around to grab something off his workbench. Daryl furrowed his brows curiously, his eyes narrowing as she turned back with a small bouquet of flowers. “Here, my Valentines gift to you.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, taking the bouquet from her as she snickered and punched his arm gently.

“It’s for (Y/N),” she explained. “Picked out all her favourite flowers, just don’t mention that I picked them.” The grey haired woman winked and punched his arm gently. Daryl shook his head, clutching the flowers in his hand before leaving his room and ignoring Carol’s calls of encouragement.

Daryl left his house and literally walked across the street over to yours, knocking on your door three times as he waited patiently. The longer you took to answer the door, the more he felt insecure. What if this was all a joke and you didn’t actually like him?

His insecurities were all cut short as soon as he heard your frantic footsteps as you ran up to the door and opened it. He was taken aback by your appearance. You were wearing a cute little white dress and you had your hair up, if anything, you looked more like an angel. You smiled breathlessly, leaning against the doorframe with one hand while the other fixed your heels.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to…” You trailed off, not wanting to admit you were trying to pick a good bra. If he saw it tonight or not, at least your boobs looked good. “…find my shoes.” Daryl waved your apology off, holding the flowers to you.

“I got ya these, hope ya like ‘em.” Daryl murmured shyly. He watched as your eyes lit up at the bouquet, seeing you inspect each flower. Your gentle fingers skimmed over the soft petals, and his heart fluttered when he saw your soft smile.

“Oh, I love them.” You sighed delightedly, taking the flowers from him before moving back into your house. “Give me a moment, I’ll just put these away.” Daryl gave you a curt nod and let you do your thing as he stood outside awkwardly. He felt his face grow hot as he thought about how happy you looked after his small gesture, only hoping your happiness would be prolonged when he took you out.

You quickly walked back out, adjusting your dress before grabbing his hand. You chuckled when you felt him tense up, and squeezed his hand comfortingly. Daryl looked down at you and sighed, letting himself relax and squeeze your hand back.

“I was thinkin’ we’ll take my bike an’ I’ll take ya some place, ‘s pretty nice.” Daryl murmured as he walked you over to the front gates. He felt a little scared and wondered if you could feel his heart beating through his fingertips. He wondered if you could feel his hand sweating, he hoped it wasn’t.

“I’m excited,” you responded, feeling him squeeze your hand in shared excitement. He didn't admit it, but you could tell he was just as excited, maybe even more. He held your hand firmly as you made it to his bike, this wasn't your first time riding with him, but this was different.

He let go of your hand to help you onto his bike, and a warmth spread through you when he laid his hand against your lower back. He offered his free hand to you which you graciously accepted, allowing him to help you onto the bike. Once you were settled he rubbed your shoulder gently before getting on in front of you.

Your arms immediately embraced him, wrapping around his waist as you pressed up behind him. Daryl choked, letting out a breath as he started up the engine.

“Hold on tigh’ fer me, ‘kay?” Daryl drawled softly, you nodded against his back and gave him a little squeeze. He tried to suppress the shiver that ran through his body but ultimately failed, closing his eyes in embarrassment before eventually driving out the gates of Alexandria.

The ride to the lake was lengthy one, but Daryl made sure to take the scenic route so you wouldn't get that bored on the way there. You’d never get bored with him though. You two could literally be in bed sleeping and it’d still be fun for you, just the idea of being with him made things exciting.

The sun shone through the trees and your hair blew in the wind, giggling when Daryl revved the engine playfully. He watched you carefully in the side mirrors, stifling his own laughter. Your arms remained around his waist but you leaned back, closing your eyes. Daryl’s heart stopped when he felt you lean back, your arms loosening around his waist.

You felt a hand tug on your wrist, and you were ultimately pulled back against him.

“Don’ do tha’,” he furrowed his brows and made eye contact with you through the side mirrors. “You’ll fall.” You just chuckled and squeezed around his waist just a little tighter, hoping it gave him some reassurance.

Little did you know though, it made him feel nervous. The close proximity of you two was making his heart beat faster and his face grow warm. He swerved a tiny bit on the road, swallowing thickly as he pushed all thoughts out of his head and focused on not killing the both of you right now.

Thankfully, you both arrived at the lake shortly after. Daryl drove over to the cabin, parking the bike there as you hopped off and ran towards the lake. His heart dropped as you suddenly ran, his legs following after you.

“Hol’ on, I dunno if there's walkers or not!” He called after you, watching you pause and look down at the ground. His gaze followed, finding a picnic blanket and some food. His face flushed, this was Carol’s doing for sure.

“Oh wow…” you giggled while biting your finger, “ain’t you the romantic?”

Daryl groaned internally, throwing a hand over his face as he forced himself to chuckle nonchalantly.

“It uh, it ain’ much…” he gestured for you to sit down, which you did, and he soon joined you on the blanket. Your arms wrapped around your knees as a soft smile remained on your face, looking out at the view ahead of the both of you.

“This is perfect,” you murmured. Daryl’s head turned to you, admiring the glow on your skin. He wanted to say in return that you were perfect, but he held back and looked out at the view. The sun bounced off the lake and into his eyes, making him squint and turn away. You noticed and reached over to brush through his hair, “too bright?”

Daryl sheepishly tucked his hair behind his ears and nodded, turning towards the food to switch the topic. You chuckled and reached for the sandwiches, taking a bite and humming.

“’s good?” Daryl raised a brow while also taking a bite, “I ain’ even gon’ lie. Carol made the food.”

You laughed mid chew, covering your mouth as you savoured the tastes that mingled on your tongue. You placed a hand on his shoulder as a sweet gesture that meant you didn't mind, you were just glad he took you out.

He looked at your hand on his shoulder, now noticing how close you two sat together. He ate his sandwich slowly, just keeping his eyes on you while you looked out at the lake. He just wanted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn't. It’d be too soon.

You finished your sandwich and stretched, enjoying the warm breeze. You then abruptly stood up and walked towards the lake. Daryl shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and followed you quickly, not wanting you to hurt yourself accidentally.

“It's hot, let's go for a swim.” You smiled at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion until you immediately started pulling your dress off. His face flushed a bright red as he looked away, hearing you take off your boots.

“(Y/N), maybe we should jus’…” he looked over at you and swallowed. You were just in your undergarments and was now stepping into the water, he sighed and stood by. You giggled as you slipped under the water, jumping back up with a huge grin on your face as you shook your head.

The water was cool, not too cold but just enough to ease the heat on your body. You looked over at him as he stood close by, his eyes avoiding looking anywhere but your face. You chuckled at his flustered expression, sinking into the water so your entire body was submerged.

“Why don't you come in? It’s really nice in here,” you murmured before leaning back and swimming on your back. Daryl thought about it, but shook his head.

“Nah, c’mon yer gonna get sick.” Daryl tried to persuade you into coming out of the water, but in all honesty he just wanted you to get back into your clothes. “’s gonna get dark soon, we should head in.” You frowned playfully, splashing water at him.

“Let me have some fun,” you teased and watched as his eyes closed in a bit of frustration and fluster. He sighed and let you swim around, moving back to clean up the picnic blanket. He decided it could work as a towel since he wasn’t even sure if there were towels in the cabin. He dusted off the blanket and held it while clutching your dress in the other.

You smiled at him and decided it was time to head in. Just seeing him stand by the lake and watch you protectively made your heart flutter, and you dunked your head into the water before standing up. Daryl’s eyes trailed down your body that glistened from the moisture of the water, quickly wrapping the blanket around your body. You shook your head chuckling as you picked up your boots and took your dress from him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and led you over to the cabin. You were enjoying the closeness between the two of you, it was quite a shift from your usual encounters.

Daryl opened the door to the cabin and let you step in first, his arm leaving you as he walked over to the campfire.

“Go ahead an’ dry up a lil, I’ll start a fire.” He murmured to you and you excused yourself to the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door you squealed quietly, clasping your hands over your cheeks as you tried to calm your heart rattling. The thought of spending the night with him, alone? It made your inner teenage girl’s stomach twist into knots.

After realizing how uncomfortable it would be to wear your wet undergarments you decided to just go without them, and quickly stripped yourself of your bra and underwear. After drying your body with the picnic blanket, you slipped back into your dress and let your hair be damp. You checked over yourself in the mirror and made sure to toss your wet undergarments into the hamper before leaving the bathroom.

Daryl’s head turned over to you as soon as you stepped back into the living room, you saw the way he swallowed after taking in your appearance. He was crouched over by the fireplace, a nice warm heat emitting from it. You moved over to him and sat down on the carpet, grabbing a soft blanket off the couch and putting it over your legs. He bit his lip, running his fingers through your wet hair gently.

“Here, let me.” He gently guided you to sit in front of him and began to ruffle your hair to try and dry it. You smiled and closed your eyes while leaning your head back to give him better access. His big calloused fingers ran over your scalp while occasionally shaking your hair in an attempt to rid of the moisture that settled among the strands. After a few minutes of that and finding out it didn’t do much, Daryl’s hand flittered down your neck and along your shoulder. The gesture sent a shiver through your body and he flinched back, resting his forehead against the back of your head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was nice.” You murmured while leaning back against him. His breath hitched when he felt your body on him, his hands moving to your waist.

“Why don’ we get on the couch? I got no clue wha’s been on this floor,” he snorted. You laughed in response and nodded, your heart jumping in your chest as he picked you up. A little giggle left your lips as he settled you down on the couch next to him, and you quickly threw your legs over his lap. He chuckled at your amusement, grabbing the blanket and putting it over the both of you. He seemed to be more comfortable around you and it overwhelmed you with joy.

He rested his head on his hand as he stared admirably at you, and his other hand landed on your knee to stroke it gently over the blanket. You looked back at him just as admirable, the hand holding his head up came down by your head, letting you rest on it. His eyes softened as he looked down at your relaxed state, stroking the side of your head comfortingly.

“This is nice,” you murmured and closed your eyes. His hand kept stroking your head and you could feel him shift his body closer. His hand came down to rest on your cheek and your eyes fluttered open at his touch. He didn’t shy away when your gaze locked on his. He didn’t know what took over him but he leaned in closer, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss ya?” He whispered against your cheek, you could even feel his heartbeat from how close you two sat together. You looked into his eyes, seeing a deep sea in his. You licked your lips as he got closer, nodding gently and closed your eyes as his lips fitted to yours.

You felt all warm inside as you two kissed, your brain turning to mush when his hand moved from your cheek and into your slightly damp hair. He rubbed the back of your head, the kiss remained long and tender. He was the first to pull back, taking in a breath of air before smoothing your hair down. His face was tinted pink, and you imagined his ears were too.

You were slightly dazed from the kiss, your mind hazy. But you did know one thing, and it was that you wanted more.

You reached for him, cupping his cheeks and rubbing the stubble that lay there. He groaned softly and pressed a hand on the couch by your hip, leaning in to kiss you once more. This new found confidence that ran through his veins was exhilarating. His lips moved against yours more desperately, and a hand cradled the back of your head.

His hand left the couch and instead grabbed your hip, rubbing it gently with his thumb as he continued kissing you passionately. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan into his mouth and he took the opportunity to snake his tongue into your mouth. You could feel the hesitation in his movements and his hand slid over your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer. After feeling you kiss back he started to straighten up and ran his fingers through your hair.

You had to pull back to take a breath, pressing a hand on his thigh as you leaned up to his level. His breath hitched and he reached up to wrap his large hands around your waist. Looking down at him like this made goosebumps rise on your skin, his pupils were blown wide at the sight of you. He looked at you like you were sent down from heaven by god just for him. His hands itched at your waist like he was begging to touch you further, his head tilting to the side as he reached up to trace over your cheek. You let out a soft chuckle and stood up on your knees to move yourself over him, placing a knee on each side of his lap before settling down on him.

Daryl closed his eyes as soon as he felt your body on top of him, leaning back against the couch. His rough hands ghosted over your thighs, unsure if he was able to touch you or not. You shifted yourself over his lap, rubbing against him slightly and eliciting a groan from him. The sound shot a wave of heat in your lower region, pressing his hands on your thighs. Your body jolted when he squeezed your plush thighs in return, kneading your skin gently while one hand moved onto your back and pulled you against him.

“Is this okay?” He murmured low and sultry against your neck, and he smirked a little when he felt your body trembling under his touch. You bit your lip and nodded, moaning when he squeezed your thigh. “I need ta hear ya say it.”

“Yes..” you breathed against his face, arching your back when his hand pressed down on your lower back. “This is… better than okay,” he smirked at your comment, leaning in to kiss you gently. This side of him was different than you’d ever seen him before. So full of confidence and completely taking over your body. His lips parted from yours and wandered over your jaw, kissing the little spot right under your ear.

You moaned airily as he continued to kiss your neck, suckling gently while one of his hands rubbed your back. Your hips stuttered a little as you tried to refrain from grinding against him, and he knew. You could feel the smirk on your skin as he trailed his free hand up your thigh, slipping it under the skirt of your dress and dragging it over the curve of your rear. His hand paused after his calloused fingertips brushed over your soft skin, peering up at you through his eyebrows.

“Are ya not wearin’ anythin’ under ‘ere?” Daryl drawled dangerously, his finger tapping your bum periodically. When you didn't respond he brought his hands down to the hem of your dress, rubbing the fabric slightly. “Can I look?”

“Please,” you mumbled involuntarily and your face grew hot when he chuckled at your eagerness. He continued to rub your thighs, moving his way up and under your dress before lifting it up. His pupils dilated more at the sight of your exposed pussy, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fought to hold back.

“Jesus christ, ya really…” he growled under his breath before lowering your dress. You whined a little since you wanted him to go further, but at the same time feared this was as far as he wanted to go. He brought his hands onto your ass and lifted you up so he could placed you down right on…

“Oh,” you hummed which soon turned into a moan as he basically spread you over his erection. The rough material of his jeans rubbed against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body as you practically rode him through his clothes. He groaned into your ear and grabbed your hips to slow you down, then biting your earlobe.

“Calm down, don’ wan’ this ta go too fast.” Daryl’s rough voice grumbled into your ear. He nudged you off of him so you were standing in front of him, and he leaned back against the couch before whispering, “take yer dress off.”

You grabbed the skirts of your dress shyly, biting your lip as his gaze pierced right through you. He suddenly sat up straight and furrowed his brows in concern, worried that he went too far.

“Or don’.. you don’ have ta if ya don’ wan’..” he shook his head and grabbed your arms to rub them reassuringly, “y’know I’d never make ya do somethin’ you don’ wan’ ta do.”

Your heart swelled at his sweet words, leaning down to plant an innocent kiss upon his lips. His hands loosened around your arms as he felt reassured you weren't uncomfortable. You pulled back to place a few more kisses on his cheeks and then his forehead.

“I want to, it's just… been a while.” You looked down in embarrassment and felt a hand rub your thigh comfortingly. You smiled at the gesture, you didn't expect him to be so sweet during all this. Like you did… but then again you never imagined this would happen in the first place.

The look he gave you as he waited for you made you want to just part your legs and let him have his way with you, but you relented. Instead you slowly stepped back and undid the straps of your dress, eventually dropping it to the floor and revealing the entirety of your bare body.

Daryl rubbed his chin as he gazed over the length of your body, his body slowly moving back against the couch. He shifted himself so his legs were slightly apart, presumably to ease the tension in his pants.

“C’mere,” he beckoned you over and reached for you. Your legs moved on their own and you practically threw yourself into his arms, settling onto his lap. He cradled you like the precious thing you are, supporting your weight with one arm while the other stroked up and down the side of your thigh. “Look at you,” he murmured and brought a hand up to your cheek, brushing the stray hairs that lay there. “So pretty.”

You pussy throbbed at his words, feeling pathetic at how easily aroused you were. He leaned back as you suddenly pushed yourself up and straddled him once again, making sure your warmth was settled right above his erection. Suddenly, you felt super conscious over the fact you were really wet. You wondered if he noticed, and he did. You bit your lip and looked down at where you were sitting, your face growing hot as you noticed the slightly damp spot on his jeans.

“Oh god Daryl,” you muttered and tried to sit up. He immediately grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back down onto him.

“Don’,” he pressed his face into your neck, his eyelashes brushing against your skin when he closed his eyes. His nose pushed against you as he took a deep breath of your scent, the sweetness filling him with the primary thoughts of arousal. His thumbs pushed into your pelvic region while the rest of his fingers squeezed your butt affectionately.

You sighed and threw your head back when the warm wet feeling of his tongue graced your neck, his beard scratching you in all the right ways. You needed to feel more of him and so, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and started unbuttoning the first few buttons before he grabbed your hands.

His breath caught as he held your hands, gently pushing them away from his shirt. You couldn’t see his expression but you assumed he didn’t want it off. You silently resigned from his chest, letting your hands fall onto his biceps. He breathed heavily and kept his head down to avoid your gaze, feeling ashamed of what lay under his shirt.

“’m sorry- I jus’,” he sighed and put his hands on your waist. You understood what he meant, he wasn’t ready to show that part of him just yet. You carefully cupped his jaw and tilted his head up, melting at the sight of him. He looked so worried, frightened you’d think of him any different for what was on his body. “Can we jus’ leave my shirt on?” He whispered so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it.

“Of course. Just like you, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You smiled sweetly at him and kissed him gently, hoping it’d ease his anxiety. He relaxed in your hands, closing his eyes and breathing a sigh of relief.

“Wha’ did I do to deserve ya?” He rubbed your sides with his thumbs which only stirred up more feelings of adoration… but most importantly lust. He noticed the slight impatience emitting from the way your body shifted more frequently, and a smirk appeared on his face. “Poor girl,” he teased as he reached for his belt.

You felt like a starved animal as you awaited the sight of his cock, your hands scratching at your thighs to keep yourself from undressing him completely. He didn’t make you wait too long and gave you what you wanted, pushing his pants and boxers just enough to pull his length out. Your eyes widened in both curiosity and nervousness, he was big. Sure you’d had quite a few dicks in you before but his was, different. He chuckled nervously after you didn’t say something, but you quickly replaced his hand with your own.

He choked on his own spit at the feeling of your dainty hand touching him. He’d fantasied about this moment before rather he’d like to admit it or not. He threw his head back against the couch as you slowly started moving your hand up and down his length, his own hands clutching at the cushions.

You felt a sense of pride in you after realizing how much pleasure you were giving him, and you felt yourself more antsy and aroused at the sight of him like this. Daryl let out a loud groan before looking back at you, noticing how wet you had become. His thigh was soaked from the amount of grinding you’d been doing on it.

He brought his right hand to his mouth, sticking his middle and ring finger into his mouth to get them nice and slicked up. You continued to stroke him as he did this, letting him eventually move you closer to him.

He looked into your eyes for silent permission which you graciously gave, and soon his wet fingers made way to your core. Your eyes shut when you felt those cold and calloused fingers on your clit, feeling him circle the extremely sensitive bundle of nerves. You squeezed his cock unintentionally and it made him let out a whimper, his face flushing after he made the sound.

Your hips bucked wildly at the digits circling your clit while your hand wrapped around his length to pump him faster.

The cabin was filled with noises of just the both of you moaning, and if you listened closely you could hear the lewd sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your sticky wetness. You cried out softly when he curled his fingers, moving dangerously close to that soft spot in you. Your hand jerked him faster, eager to make him finish all over your hand.

Daryl cursed under his breath, his hips bucking up into your hand as he sped up the pace of his fingers moving in and out of you. You moaned loudly, your eyes were squeezed shut from the pressure building up inside of you, threatening to release. Daryl groaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers which he soon pulled out, making you stop your ministrations on his cock. He chuckled at your little whines of protest and grabbed the back of your head in order to pull you down, your lips crashing against his.

Your hands moved onto his chest, clutching his shirt in your fingers as you tried to stabilize yourself from the overwhelming arousal and lust that was flowing through your body. Your breaths were hot and mingling, his tongue moving against yours with authority, and you let yourself be taken. He continued to kiss you while guiding you over his cock, pulling back momentarily to help you lower yourself onto him.

You held onto his shoulders while you sunk down onto his length, the stretch painful. You let out a soft whimper, holding still with only the tip in. Daryl furrowed his brows and started to lift you off, but you shook your head.

“No… just let me… let me adjust,” you mumbled, blinking away the tears that had made their way into your eyes. Daryl shifted uncomfortably under you, feeling terrible that you were in pain. He listened though and sat as still as he could, kissing the area under your eyes and rubbing your hips calmingly. You were so tight and he worried he didn’t prepare you enough, your eyes still closed and brows furrowed in pain.

“(Y/N) c’mon, ‘m hurtin’ ya.” He frowned purely out of concern for you, he was more worried about your pleasure than his own. You held your ground and kept sinking down little by little, and he couldn’t help but moan a little as your walls constricted and adjusted to the size of him. You kept pushing yourself to take more, wanting this moment to last as long as it could. You finally plopped down onto him with a loud cry of both pain and pleasure, leaning your body fully against his. He groaned deeply, rubbing your back as he kissed your neck to distract you from the pain.

You kept your eyes closed, feeling almost defeated as you let your body relax and adjust to his huge girth in you. You laughed a little at that and it made Daryl a little confused but he didn’t question your little giggle. Instead he just kept kissing what ever skin he could get his lips on, trying to make you feel more pleasure than pain. He dragged his hand up your thigh, up your side, and over to your breast. You gasped softly as he touched you there, biting your lip as he circled your hardened nipple.

Your hips rocked accidentally from the touches on your tit, your walls constricting again at the sudden movement. It was still painful to move but it felt closer to getting better, though Daryl felt guilty he was getting more pleasure than you were. He just wanted you to feel good. He decided to latch onto your other nipple while he toyed with the previous one, determined to make you feel amazing.

It worked slowly. Your mouth was agape and you let out whimpers and whines occasionally, testing the waters and moving your hips slowly. The abrupt movement had Daryl grabbing your hips, his mouth breaking away from your breast. He breathed heavily and looked up at you, a light sheen of sweat was evident on his forehead. The heat between you two plus the fireplace was palpable and he gingerly thrusted up into you, watching closely for your reaction.

Thankfully, no pain was evident in your expression. Bliss took over you, throwing your head back as you slowly started picking up the pace and rocked your hips against him. His fingers dug into your hips to keep himself grounded, but mostly so he wouldn’t cum in three seconds. He grunted low in his throat, watching your body move mesmerizingly above him. The feeling of his cock dragging up and down your walls was extremely pleasurable. You felt so full of him that you could trace the one outstanding vein that ran up his entire length with just the feeling of it in your pussy.

You felt hot despite your lack of clothes, your mind swirling with the thought of him and the fact that the two of you were literally having sex. You moaned softly and let your head fall forward. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, one hand moving into his hair as you brought him close to your lips once more. You were desperate for the taste of him, you didn’t know you had a thing for the taste of tobacco and meat, but you did. At least coming from him you did.

He moaned gratefully into your mouth, pulling you against him before palming your breasts as he bucked his hips up. You swirled your tongue around his, savouring the taste of him. The moment was perfect, your sweaty body pressed against his clothed one. You pulled back from the kiss to look down at him, his eyes were glazed over with lust and his cheeks were adorably flushed. Your thumb rubbed his cheek as his lips parted, his heavy breaths warm against your face. The feeling of being stuffed with his cock sent your eyes rolling back into your head as he pulled you harder down onto his cock, and you immediately went back in for a kiss.

His hands pawed at you desperately, like he needed more of you. You knew one thing for sure, and it was that he liked your ass a lot. He moved his hands down there to guided you up and down on his length, biting your bottom lip teasingly. You moaned as the friction was starting to get to you. You felt that knot tying inside of you, threatening to snap at any moment. Your fingers curled into Daryl’s hair, tugging it lightly which gave him the hint.

“So close already?” He taunted, but he was feeling it just as much as you were. You whined desperately as you bounced on his cock, eager to release. You had to lean back and brace yourself with your palms on his thighs to ride him properly, your head thrown back as you let the moans and cries escape your mouth freely. His cock twitched inside of you, the sight of you like this was better than he imagined, and it really was him making you feel like this.

Daryl let out a few whimpers, reaching forward to cup your breasts in his hands. He kneaded the flesh, squeezing it a few times before pinching the sensitive buds that hardened with arousal. You had to cry out his name when he did this, your nails digging into his thighs the faster you moved yourself.

He dropped a hand from your breast and down between your thighs, his rough thumb rubbing your already sensitive clit. One of your hands shot forward to wrap around his waist, your body shaking violently at how overstimulated you were feeling at the moment. Your cries were like music to his ears, he wanted to hear more. Your scratches at his wrist held no intentions of stopping him from rubbing you like this, but you could see your vision go blank at how overwhelming the pleasure was getting for you.

“Daryl!” You cried loudly, your grip loosening on his wrist, and your hips stuttering as you finally reached that high. You could see stars and you threw your head back so far that Daryl had to hold you up, thrusting lazily into you before quickly lifting you off so he could cum on your thighs. He let out an exasperated groan while pulling you into his arms, letting you lay on him as you recovered from your intense orgasm.

Daryl had a shy smile on his face as he rubbed your back, kissing your sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

“Mmm,” you hummed sleepily. The session took a lot out of you, but you were beyond thrilled. You wanted to say more and he could sense that, but you were too tired to even lift yourself up. Daryl grabbed the blanket that was tossed to the side and carefully wiped your thighs. Your body ached for rest, your thighs would surely be burning in the morning.

Daryl stood up with you in his arms, letting out a small huff as he cradled you to his body. The fire had long fizzled out, a new one resonating within you two. He kissed your forehead and carried you over to the bedroom where he lay you down. He stripped of his pants but kept his shirt and boxers on before slipping into bed next to you. Your half sleeping body slid over to him, pressing yourself against him fully.

Never in his entire life would Daryl have imagined he’d be shacking up with you on Valentine’s day. He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling against your head as he closed his eyes. A soft smile remained on his face, happy to be in this moment, with you.

[headcanonenthusiast]

Alejandro Vargas NSFW headcanons

This was made with gender-neutral readers in mind.

Ladies, gentleman and everyone in-between, it's him. It's forehead man.

Alejandro is so FINE tho 😍 I'm so excited to be doing headcanons for this man. I'd learn Spanish just for him tbh.

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

Enjoy!

Nsfw under the cut.

-His hands are absolutely glued to your hips the whole time.

-He gets the widest, most shit-eating grin whenever he manages to hit your g-spot.

-"Listen to those moans. Fuck, is that it? Is that the spot right there, amor?"

-Very confident in the fact that he can make you scream. In fact, he wants you to be loud.

-"Thats it, scream for me. Grita mi nombre. God, the neighbors must be so jealous of me because they aren't the ones making you scream."

-Edges you a lot tbh. Getting to cum immediately w/ him is kinda rare.

-If you make him jealous by talking to someone else, or if you guys just haven't been able to spend time together, he's more likely to edge you for longer.

-"Don't start whining, hermosa/o. You asked for this. Why were you talking to them anyways, hm? Why waste your time on someone like that when you have me?"

-Even if you were just talking to a friend innocently or something, chances of Alejandro's jealousy rising is high.

-He trusts you not to cheat on him, he knows you love him, but that doesn't stop him from being a tiny bit jealous anyway. And that jealously and possessiveness totally seeps into your sex life.

-3 inches soft, 5 inches hard and yall already know it's thick af ( lord.have.mercy🙏🙏🙏🙏)

-The sex is either passionate and rougher or passionate and gentler depending on the mood. But, it's always super passionate. His attention is focused entirely on you, with much deeper strokes if it's gentler.

-Marks you up a lot and doesn't really care who sees them. He wants people to know that you're his.

-"There we go. Look at how pretty your neck is, covered with my hickeys."

-And if you try to wear something that covers the marks, he'll carefully pull it right off of you.

-"No, no. Don't hide the marks, cariño. Why would you be ashamed of showing off how good I make you feel?"

-Will not hesitant to spank you if he doesn't like how you're acting. Slaps your ass and even your pussy/cock with every word he says.

-"Don't use that fucking tone with me. Who do you think you are?"

-Makes you count every slap. If you lose count, he'll start right over and much more harshly. (My dyscalculic ass could never 💀)

-I just know that his ideal introduction to sex is very romantic. Like, candlelight dinner followed by slow dancing that escalates into him carrying you to bed kinda romantic.

-At the end of the day, Alejandro just wants to be close to you. He dislikes quickies for the fact that he wants to spend time and take his time with you. To Alejandro, there's no greater pleasure than the ability to make his partner feel good.

-Will totally worship your body if you're insecure about it. If you ever come to him with your insecurities, his mindset changes from fucking you until the bed breaks to making the sweetest, most tender love imaginable.

-"Aw, look at this body. This gorgeous fucking body. You're crazy for being insecure about all of this."

-"Do you have any idea how many times this body's made me cum? Dios, the thought of this body, the thought of your pussy/dick is enough to make me cum."

-Will also gently massage your thighs as they hug his hips while making love, no matter how big or small they are.

-"Dios mío, these thighs...tan jodidamente increíble."

-Demands that you tell him how amazing you are.

-"Say it, baby. Tell me how beautiful/handsome you are."

-And if you refuse? He'll just keep asking you to, threatening to pull out and not let you finish if you don't.

-"That's not what I asked, mi vida. Say it for me, say how amazing and sexy you are. No dejaré que te corras si no lo haces."

-But the best thing about sex w/ Alejandro if you're feeling insecure and do everything he says? He always let's you cum. Never edges you like he normally would. It's probably because he's not nearly as focused on himself and his own pleasure as he normally would be.

-Enjoys gently cumming inside of you during more gentle sex. Prefers cumming on your pussy/ass/dick or even your chest/belly if it's rougher, though.

-Often shuts his eyes as he finishes, fingers digging into your skin before his grip loosens and his eyes are glued to your face once more. He chuckles while showering your face in kisses, voice hushed and satisfied.

-"Dios mío, that was amazing. Can't believe I'm with someone as wonderful as you, mi amor."

-Almost always hopes you'll agree to taking a bath with him. Like I said, he's all about romantic intercourse, and there's nothing more romantic to Alejandro than getting to wash your body of the mess you've both created.

-And then you're gonna both fall asleep, Alejandro's strong arms wrapped tightly around you while he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders, whispering praises and adoring words.

-Oh, and he usually tries to stay up later than you. Why? Because the look on your face after sex, all satisfied and at total peace, makes him feel accomplished and happy for making you feel good.

Translations: (apologies if anything is inaccurate, online translators can only get you so far :()

Cariño=sweetheart/honey

Amor=love

Hermosa/o=beautiful

Mi vida=my life

Dios/Dios mío=God/my God

Grito mi nombre=Yell out my name

Tan jodidamente increíble=So fucking incredible

No dejaré que te corras si no lo haces=I won't let you cum if you don't

Alejandro has my ❤. He's just so.. 😍

Really enjoyed doing headcanons for him! You can probably tell that I had way more ideas for Alejandro than I did for Gaz (I'm so sorry Gaz enjoyers 😭). I've also intended to do Alejandro for a while, before even Ghost or König. I just did those two first since ik how popular they are.

I'll be doing more headcanons soon, probably more SFW ones, too, because I only have like 2 SFW headcanons on my page 😔.

Feel free to give me suggestions for who to do next!

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1

-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."

words ◦ 5k

genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride

warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,

a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).

also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will

A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak

masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea

The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.

It was ironic really. 

Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.

That mouth just didn't want your passion- 

Your fervor-

Your ardor-

Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through. 

Chan was filled with passion.

Chan was filled with ardor.

Chan was filled with romance.

But Chan didn't want poetry-

Chan spilled too much soul into songs. 

Songs that made him too busy for you.

The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages- 

Your love was often- 

Lost in translation. 

You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid

all of this was so stupid

your feelings-

stupid

your issues-

stupid

the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-

stupid

Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages? 

What the hell does that even mean?

You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction. 

Why were you always stuck?

stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-

stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.

stupid

stupid

stupid

“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.

Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.

the same

the same

the same

Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.

"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.

"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities. 

"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. 

"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.

you're always busy

You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.

"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out. 

stop

You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.

then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?

He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."

When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms. 

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.

does he not care?

"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard. 

he didn't even kiss you

1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds

That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.

that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper

1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now

16 seconds

17 seconds

You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.

Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.

You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.

Of course, it wasn't chan

Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.

Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down. 

"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.

"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."

You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.

"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?

"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."

Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.

"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."

He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.

His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.

Well, that was a bust.

Why couldn't he just be normal around you?

"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

He was cute

Why haven't you talked to him before?

"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."

He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?

"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.

"Oh?"

"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?

(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)

Why was he making you feel so jittery?

"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.

Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.

"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table. 

Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.

You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.

So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.

"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."

"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.

"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.

You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.

"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."

"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills. 

"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.

"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.

"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character. 

"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?

well that was melodramatic

"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.

"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.

"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"

"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.

Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse

“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”

He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.

that must have sounded so self-centered

"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered. 

“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest. 

Why was he so ...amazed

"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down. 

but right now not so much

“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.

basically, something that will never happen never ever

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.

What do you write?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.

Why do you do this to yourself??

Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-

stupid. stupid. stupid.

To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably. 

Fuck it 

“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully. 

“Elaborate”

A man of many annoying questions you see 

“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically. 

"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.

"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ. 

"I do."

Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-

He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.

From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.

Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.

"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.

"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."

He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."

Why wasn't he saying anything?  

Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.

"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.

Why did everybody act like you were crazy?

Was there something wrong with you?

You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.

"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.

How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?

"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.

"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.

"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.

Two can play at that game-

"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.

You had one more trick up your sleeve-

You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.

Now, where's the happy ending in that?

(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )

He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—

No, stop it, bad y/n. 

"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward  

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice- 

you narrow your eyes,

"What will Chan think?"

"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"

"Tell that to Chan-"

"Maybe I will." His lips-

"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.

Check-

He scoffs. Moves his bishop. 

You're right back where you started. 

"You're not his pet."

"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.

"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.

Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.

Too many outcomes.

Do you even still want to play?

Weren't you the one who started the game?

You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.

Should you have really asked for his number?

What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?

Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.

"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.

"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-

Before- 

"I can try."

Checkmate

And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created- 

You run away. 

“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.

“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—

How long has it been since you've been touched? 

Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.

His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.

Your breath hitches.

Body shutters. 

Every atom erupting in flames. 

The elevator doors slam open-

Your brain clicks back into place-

“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.

“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.

“Yes, you do.”

I do? 

The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.

But that wasn't you talking- 

That was the hopeless part of your personality,

The unrealistic-

The fiction- 

Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book. 

You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.

You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.

There's no way.

Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.

There's no fucking way.

You pull it out.

It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.

XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.

Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.

Read Chapter 2 here

[vampyrevogue]

Hello, everyone.

Sorry for my insane absence (again) I've been quite busy, however lucky for you guys I'm super sick which gives me a great amount if time to write asks so send them in.

the cregan girlies need to he fed more often I think.

On that note, that's my purpose of this post. To get back in track of writing, I'm thinking some cregan stark headcanons.

This is a cregan stark x a reader that is very Helaena coded, because I relate to her on an embarrassing level and I wanna project for a little bit. Yall are gonna see ALOT of I thinks in this post sorry😔

Content: fluff only fluff today sorry yall, but I love that domestic life.

-As much as I think cregan would have a dislike for bugs or insects of any kind he'd definitely put that aside for you.

On that same note, he 100% seems like the type to get you anything and do anything for you;because as we all know northerners are fiercely loyal and the starks are honorable men at that. And cregan is no exception to that.

- He'd so spend so much time with you in any of your favorite spots, the garden even in the dead of night;just to see that contented look on your face when you're at peace.

-i think he'd always have the finest silks and fabrics and jewels he could get his hands on given to you, I just know he loves to spoil you and see your face light up with joy everytime he gives you a gift.

And he LOVES seeing you in any gown that he has made for you.

-i also think he'd be great at detecting your emotions. In a crowded place and you're getting super anxious and fidgety? He knows and he's escorting you to a quiet hallway or room so you can collect yourself.

He definantly cherishes you with all his being and he always makes sure to tell and show you that, he always wants you by his side no matter where he is.

On the other hand of his character, I think he's very possessive of you especially if you're shy and naive of sorts. I feel like if another man would even consider ogling you or touching you he'd immediately have his head on a spike.

He'd definitely defend you and your honor with his entire being, he wont let *anyone* insult you ever.

With that same train of thought, i feel like he'd bring you any mans head if you so wished it. He's that loyal.

Okay you guys that's literally I can conjure up in my little brain at the moment, and I know its insanely rambly and doesnt make much sense infact it's probably not even that great but I hope yall enjoyed it.

~Yours truly, V.carmen

[melanated-writersblock]

(O.M.G.P) One Month Grace Period

Toji x Chubby/Plus-Size!Black!Female!Reader

~No Nut November is over, and Toji couldn’t think of anything more exciting than turning you into his free use slut to bring in the new month😘

A/N & Warnings: I’M SORRY YALL I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE STORY IT IS LONG AS FUCK!!! But it’s not just porn with no plot!!! (For those of you that aren’t just in it to get mentally dicked down, I wrote a prologue! The link is below and can be read before you start this fic!)

LIKES ARE COOL, BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE BETTER! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! ALSO DON’T COPY MY SHIT. I WILL KNOW.

Content: Multi-sex scenes, praise/degradation, free-use so dub-con, Oral (f receiving), a small bit of spit kink in there, fingering, shower sex, couch sex, kitchen sex, bedroom sex, unprotected sex, What did NLE Choppa say? MEAT TO MEAT! WALL TO WALL! COOCHIE TO MY BALLS!🗣️ (18+ MDNI)

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: Freaky Bih from Da A - Louisvt, Fuck The World - Brent Faiyaz, What You Need - Don Toliver, 2AM - SZA, Ambré’s Interlude - Destin Conrade, Animosity/ Dear Xodi - Johnny Rain

Prologue - November 30th

December 1st

12:45 AM.

Your thighs quivered as Toji pounded into you relentlessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping as his precum mixed with your wetness filled the room. It felt too good, you didn’t know whether to scream or just shut up and take it. Between Toji having one arm over you bracing the headboard and the other pushing your thighs back, knees near your chest, you felt yourself getting a little too close. “Oooh- Toji, I’m gonna….oh fuuuhhhkkk~” Toji chuckled at your mewling, “Look at you, only 45 minutes in and you’re ready to cum on my cock like a greedy little slut.” His pace slowed, almost painfully. “I didn’t give you permission to do that just yet, Princess.”Watching his girth slide in and out of you, Toji brings two fingers to the base of his dick where your cream spills out with each thrust and sucks his fingers clean. You can’t help but moan at the sight of something so sinful yet passionate, you clench around him as his slow pace persists. Too far gone and busy chasing ecstasy, you didn’t notice Toji move his arm from gripping the headboard to cradle the back of your head as he leaned his weight into you, with his mouth next to your ear. “Yeahhh you’re clenching around me so tight, you’re such a fucking slut. Taking this dick like the good little bitch you are, you’re so fucking wet for me.” “Unnnhhh~” “Ooohhh, yeah. Yeah?” “Yes-yes-yes~fuccck!” “Come on Baby, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me~” “Toji don’t make me……fuck…….please…..Toji pleaseee~” His pace picks up, “How hard was that, Hmm? You’re too shy to ask me to cum but you’re making a mess on my cock with no problem.” As his thrusts get harder he cradles your head, blocking it from hitting the headboard, his fingers weaving through your box braids, your floral bonnet long gone, thrown somewhere on the nightstand. You hold onto his sturdy arms for some sort of anchor, as you feel your soul quite literally about to leave your body. You let the sudden wave of pleasure take over your body as you shudder, mouth open, screaming vulnerably, eyes closed, with tears brimming. “Yesss, cum for me, give it to me, give it to me. Ohhhh, Good Girl!”

9:19 AM.

“Ah fuckkkk, that’s it~” Toji hoisted you against the tiled shower wall with your full legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you, the supple flesh of your ass moving with ease as he guides you onto him, the steam of the hot shower shrouding the entire bathroom in a thick fog. Your morning routine took a turn when your shower time got sabotaged by Toji and his morning wood. So here you were, getting lifted up and impaled on his dick like you weighed absolutely nothing. Still dazed from the midnight session, the pleasure was intense, and you were honestly, still kinda sensitive. You leaned your back against the warm tiles and pushed your hands on his sculpted chest to brace yourself and lessen the force of the thrusts, but each time you’d lean against the wall he would lean back so your full weight was on him and your breasts were flush against his chest. Despite your voluptuous stature, he was able to manhandle you and throw you around like a simple bag of sugar. One of his many redeeming qualities, and admirable…..but not in this situation. “Come on Baby, you were being so good for me earlier. You sensitive?” You couldn’t speak, and he knew it. Toji got off at the thought of you still being fucked out and a moaning mess. It haunted his dreams all November. Imagining how many ways he could make you cum on him, scream and writhe in pleasure, all while he’s still chasing his first high.

12:04 PM.

You knew the kitchen incident would have to be addressed at some point, but this isn’t how you expected it to go. “Move your fucking hand.” “Toji pleaseeee, you’re gonna make me cum again~” “That’s the whole point, now move your hand and keep your legs open.” You were in the process of making lunch because you and Toji agreed that you both were hungry, but apparently you weren’t on the same page. Toji made quick work of lifting you onto the kitchen counter and throwing your thighs over his shoulders before going to town. Looking down at him from your seated position, his tousled black hair visible as he laps up your juices. “You taste so fucking good Princess~” Toji was wearing you down, every single word out of his mouth brought you that much closer to your next orgasm, “~Thank you”. He stops for a moment to give you a kiss and you moan, tasting yourself on him. “You’re being so obedient” Toji spits, and the long string of saliva slowly trickles down from your clit to your pussy. You look at him full of awe and arousal at how irrationally hot that little trick was. Laughing at your reaction, he spits on his middle and ring finger before plunging them into your dripping pussy. Starting off slowly in a “come hither” motion, he watches as your eyes roll back at the sensation, using his second hand to toy with your clit. “Aww, my obedient little fuckdoll, looks so cute when she’s gonna cum.” FUCK, you couldn’t take it anymore, he’s too good at this. He didn’t even cum yet!

4:32 PM.

“Shiiiiiit!” You cry into the plush sofa armrest as you make poor attempts to squirm away from Toji’s firm grip on your wide hips as he pulls you back onto him. Your ass ripples as he speeds up his pace at an almost inhuman speed, your whimpering and cries growing louder. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Toji’s brutal pace finally started to falter, something that rarely happens…meaning he’s definitely close. He pulls out, and some of his precum mixed with yours spills out of you. “Not yet Princess, get up for me.” Seeing your dumbstruck state, Toji peels your dazed frame off of the armrest. He sits at the edge of the sofa, legs parted and sits you on top of him with your back to his chest and your legs spread on either side of his. “Theeere we go~”, Toji slides his throbbing dick along your pussy as you shudder, leaning your body back against his in a moment of recovery, resting your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck before moving to your ear to whisper, “Here’s what’s gonna happen…I’m gonna finish fucking your brains out, and you’re gonna cum again while I fill you up. Okay?” All you could do was sigh. “Nod, if you understand Princess…” you shake your head subtly still catching yourself. Toji noticed this, and gave you time before snaking his arm around your tummy. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He slides into you, and you cry out, “Shhh, shh, shh, breathe. You’re okay.” His pace starts to pick up, “Ahhhhhhhhh~” “I knowww, Baby, I knowww, Fuck!” Toji’s words started to slur as he continued to fuck you, a creamy mess pooling at his lap as you both began seeing stars, “Fuuhhkkk you look so pretty like this, shit. You want me to cum inside of you, hm? You want me to fill you up? Turn you into my…..fuck…..my little cumdrunk slut?” “Unnnggggg fuck, Toji, Yeeeeesssss~” You couldn’t help yourself as the tears began to fall, you were in too deep (and so was he), and too far gone to know what the fuck was going on anymore. Your climax washed over you like a tsunami….so strong until you didn’t even realize you squirted all over Toji and went unconscious for 10 seconds. Coming to, Toji was already grabbing a blanket and water for you, “Good Girl, you did amazing cumming all over me like that. I’m so proud of you.”. You smiled, nestling into him as you settled down. Finally, a moment of peace. On the verge of nodding off, you couldn’t help but feel a particular unsettled energy. You look at Toji, who seems relaxed…but not the type of relaxed that someone that just had an orgasm should be. “Toji?” “Hm?” “You didn’t finish…did you?” He looks at you with a mischievous grin, “Not one bit.”

This is going to be a looong month.

[paigebueckersloverr]

Three's A Crowd

This is a multiple part story. This chapter does not have smut. But the next one does, so stay tuned and feel free to critique. I am always open to suggestions and overall thoughts. Thank you.

Stream of the Day: Novacane 🤍

Contents: Paige And The Reader Attend Paige's After-Game Homecoming Party. Where Reader Finally Meets The Infamous Laliah A Former Flame And Now Friend Of Paige's. Which puts both the reader and paige on edge as laliah makes no mistake in letting paige know she still thinks of her.

THINGS TO KNOW: The Reader Is Black As I Am A Black Girl.

Although, Paige Takes On More Of A Switch Role? Sorry, Yall She's Not Getting Dicked Down...For Now.....

Warnings: Kissing, Fingering, Swearing, Vibrating Strap, Breeding, Degration, Praise, Groping, Possesive Reader, Suggestive Language, Possesive Paige, Jealous Reader, Jealous Paige,* I can't think of anything else right now. * COMING SOON!!!

Word Count - 1.6k MEN And MINORS DNI

☆ Salem's Thoughts ☆

This Story is purely fictional I have no personal relation to anyone mentiond. And I have no malicious or weird intent when writing. These fanfictions are purely for enjoyment and obsessed girls like me.

☆ Salem's Final Thoughts ☆

Please be mindful I'm a little rusty at writing as I haven't Written serious fanfiction. Since my wattpad days, I'm Also dyslexic so read at your own risk.

Paige’s after-game homecoming party was in full swing, the living room pulsating with laughter and music, but all the sound seemed to fade as I laid eyes on Laliah. She was standing by the kitchen counter, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders as she leaned in close to Paige, their shared history palpable in the way they moved. As I walked closer, I could see the flicker of recognition in Paige’s eyes, a mix of nostalgia and unease. Laliah's smile was warm yet carried an edge, her gaze lingering on Paige longer than necessary, making it unmistakably clear that old flames still flickered in her heart.

Earlier That Day....

I sighed as I finally turned off the alarm set for 8:15 AM, groaning softly as I pushed myself out of bed. The morning light filtered through the curtains of our hotel room in Minnesota, where Paige was born and bred, her dream of becoming a UConn Husky now a reality. Her family had moved away a year and some change after she left for Storrs, but Minnesota still held a special place in her heart. I moved quietly around the room, gathering Paige’s bags for practice and the upcoming game.

The city was buzzing with excitement, the air thick with anticipation for the game. Paige and Laliah, once formidable teammates at Hopkins, were now playing on different teams, and their reunion on the court was the talk of the town. This trip was a homecoming of sorts, and the shared history between Paige and Laliah added an extra layer of intrigue to the event. Little did they know paige and laliah shared more than a court together.

Later that day, after the game, the real test would come at the after-game party, where I knew I’d finally meet the infamous Laliah, a former flame and now friend of Paige’s. The thought of Laliah’s presence set me on edge, knowing she still harbored feelings for Paige. With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on getting everything ready for Paige’s big day.

Paige stirred in bed, her eyes fluttering open as she sensed my movement. She stretched and then sat up, her expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I'm nervous about the game," she admitted softly, running a hand through her hair. "It’s been a while since I’ve played in front of a hometown crowd, and with Laliah on the other team..."

I walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "You’ve got this, my love. You’ve trained so hard, and everyone here knows what an amazing player you are." I smiled, trying to infuse my voice with confidence. "Plus, it’s just another game. You’ve faced tougher challenges."

She smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I just...I want to make everyone proud."

"You will," I assured her, then hesitated before continuing. "And about meeting your former teammates tonight...I’m a little nervous too. Especially about Laliah."

Paige's smile faded slightly, and she nodded. "I know. It’s complicated, but you’re the one I’m with now. She’s just a friend."

"I trust you, my love," I replied, squeezing her shoulder gently and running my fingers through her hair. "But it’s still a bit intimidating, you know? Meeting people who’ve known you for so long and finally seeing Laliah after everything..."

"We’ll get through it together," Paige said, her voice steadier now. She leaned in, giving me a soft kiss. "Just focus on the game for now. We’ll deal with the rest later."

After reassuring Paige, we finished getting ready and headed to the arena. The drive was filled with quiet moments of hand-holding and exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and underlying nerves. As we pulled up, the bustling energy of the city was evident, fans already gathering in anticipation of the game.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was electric, teammates greeting Paige with enthusiasm. I found a spot in the stands, the sea of familiar faces reminding me of just how significant this game was. The crowd erupted in cheers as the teams took to the court, and I spotted Laliah warming up on the other side, her presence a stark reminder of the evening to come.

As I scanned the crowd from my seat in the stands, my eyes eventually landed on Laliah. She stood out effortlessly, her presence commanding attention without even trying. Her dark curls framed her face in a cascade of effortless elegance, and her smile, though warm, held a hint of mystery. Dressed in her vibrant mustard yellow and worn leather red uniform , she exuded confidence and grace.

Beside me, Paige's family chatted excitedly, her mom waving enthusiastically at every point Paige scored. Her dad and stepmother watched intently, their pride evident in every cheer and applause. Paige's two little brothers were bouncing in their seats, their energy contagious, while her little sister sat quietly, eyes fixed on the game with a thoughtful expression.

The game was intense, both teams playing with unmatched vigor. Paige moved with a grace and determination that made my heart swell with pride. Each basket, each defensive move, showcased her dedication and skill. But it was impossible to ignore Laliah's equally impressive performance, the chemistry between them on full display even as opponents.

Amidst the excitement, I couldn't help but steal glances at Laliah, her interactions with the crowd and the game itself a fascinating study. Despite the history between her and Paige, there was an air of familiarity and respect in the way she engaged with everyone around her.

Paige's family, oblivious to the significance of Laliah's presence, continued to cheer and celebrate each play with infectious enthusiasm. As the final buzzer sounded and uconn emerged victorious, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I quickly rushed down to meet her. She wrapped me in a tight hug, her face glowing with the thrill of victory.

"We did it," she whispered, her voice breathless.

"You were amazing, my love," I said, kissing her cheek. "Absolutely amazing." She said as she spun us around and cheered. In the locker room, amidst the jubilant cheers and high-fives, Paige and i shared a quiet moment of celebration, her arms wrapped tightly around me as we basked in the euphoria of victory.

After the locker room celebrations, Paige and I retreated to our hotel room to get ready for the party. As Paige changed into her usual attire—a black button-down shirt paired with loose trousers—I opted for a more toned-down look, slipping into a sleek yet understated dress that accentuated my curves in all the right places.

As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, Paige sauntered over, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "You know, I think I prefer you in less clothing," she teased, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind.

I chuckled, leaning back into her embrace. "Oh really? And here I thought you were all about the mystery."

She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone. "I like a little mystery, but I also like knowing what's underneath," she murmured, her voice low and suggestive.

A shiver ran down my spine at her words, the familiar heat of desire igniting between us. "Well, lucky for you, you've already unwrapped this package," I replied, turning to face her with a playful grin.

Paige chuckled, her eyes darkening with desire as she pulled me closer. "And what a delightful surprise it was," she murmured, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

As we finally made our way to the party, the playful banter between Paige and me took on a tense edge, each teasing remark and stolen glance fueling the simmering jealousy between us. The air crackled with unspoken tension, our insecurities festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to heal.

As we mingled amidst the crowd, Paige's gaze lingered on Laliah for a moment too long, and a surge of Jealousy with a hint of anger ignited within me. "Can we talk?" I hissed through gritted teeth, pulling her aside with a firm grip on her arm.

Paige's eyes flashed with frustration, her own insecurities about the night finally bubbling to the surface. "What now?" she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive.

"It's about her, isn't it?" I accused, my voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can't deny that there's something between you and Laliah."

Paige's jaw tensed, her expression defensive. "She's just a friend, damn it!" she spat, her voice laced with frustration. "Why can't you trust me?"

But trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the lingering stares and whispered conversations that passed between them. "Because it feels like I'm competing with her for your attention!" I shot back, my voice rising in desperation.

As our argument escalated, the tension between us reached a boiling point, our words a painful reminder of the growing rift between us. And amidst the chaos, Laliah approached, her presence casting a shadow over our already strained relationship.

We soon put the argument to rest, realizing that no one would come out happier than when we entered. In Paige's attempt to reassure me, she gently guided me over to Laliah, attempting to make introductions. Despite the lingering tension, Paige's gesture was a small but significant step towards easing the palpable unease that hung in the air. As we approached Laliah, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me, unsure of how the encounter would unfold. Nevertheless, I squared my shoulders and forced a polite smile, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

"Laliah, this is..." Paige began, her voice trailing off as she glanced uncertainly at me, her hand still clenched in mine.

"Y/N, her girlfriend and secretary on occasion. I interrupted, my tone cool and clipped. As I smiled softly and reached out for a handshake, which she returned steadfastly, "I've heard a lot about you."

Laliah's lips curled into a knowing smirk, her gaze flickering between Paige and me with a hint of amusement. "Likewise," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."

[thepenguinweeb]

`` You're too kind to me, [Y/N]-kun. ``

[ ☆ Dazai x m!reader ]

[ ☆ Dazai had believed he was straight for a while, until he met the ADA's newest client, and the prettiest man he's ever seen. ]

[ ☆ aka; you're Dazai's gay awakening ]

[ ☆ Notes: reader is referred to with he/him pronouns ]

Dazai was a womanizer, the whole Agency knew that well. He'd always try to show his interest in the female clients he deemed beautiful, or the poor mistress in his favourite café, to no avail. His dream of dying with a pretty woman would have to wait, it seemed.

He didn't think anything of you at first. From what he'd heard, you were just like any other client. But then, you showed up at the office, and, for the first time, he was left speechless.

He could only stare at you trough uncharacteristic puppy eyes. Your pretty face, your beautiful hair, the way you carried yourself--

"Uh.. hey."

Your voice snapped him out of his dreamland. He blinked at you for a few moments before clearing his throat and getting himself together.

"Hey, you must be the new client!" He stretched his hand out toward you, which you promptlu accepted, and took on that goofy personality he put on with clients. "The name's Dazai. Uh.." he snapped his fingers, trying to remember your name.

"[Y/N]."

"Right!" He smiled at you. You were unaware of just how deeply he scratched your name into his brain to make sure he never forgot. "Anyway, let's chat then, hm?"

The two of you sat down as you explained why you had seeked out the ADA. Dazai listened, occasionally interrupting with witty and silly comments.

But trough it all, he could only think of one thing:

"Holy shit. Am I really gay?"

"He's more attractive than any woman I've ever seen.."

The issue you came to them for was sorted out pretty easily, but Dazai didn't want you to leave just yet.

"Hey, hey-" he grabbed your hand just as you turned to leave. "There's this café downstairs, nobody ever goes there except for us." He nodded towards his co-workers, who were too busy with their own work to notice his attempt at calling you on a date. "If you're free tomorrow, would you be my guest there?"

He watched you ponder his words for a bit before nodding. "Sure. I don't have anything else to do."

He internally melted at the sight of your smile, but he didn't show any of that.

"Great! See you there, [Y/N]-kun!"

"..so, I guess it's just my luck."

Dazai listened as you finished telling a story. While you were focused on that, his gaze was focused on your face. You acted much more casual than yesterday, probably because this wasn't about business anymore.

"Ah, that sucks," he replied with a sigh. "Buy hey, that's life for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement. "..You're not very optimistic, are you?"

He gave you a big grin and shook his head. "Not at all!"

You crossed your arms and stared at him for a moment longer. "You're weird, Osamu." He was about to interrupt, when you continued, "That's not a bad thing, though."

He took that as a compliment.

"You're too kind to me, [Y/N]-kun."

You shook your head and let out a resigned sigh. "Sure."

A/N; My first real x reader posted here!! I know yall love Dazai soo.. here's some Dazai content for you to eat up :D especially for the gentlemen! Hope you enjoyed!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune !!