#people brush their hands together when they have something on them but they do it for too long and the sound is horrible but subtle

[slut4megantheestallion]

Hello! I don't know if you have any rules regarding requests, but I sent you my idea. Arcane women x female reader! Especially Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn. They wanted to have something more intimate with the reader, but she can't because of past experiences and she feels frustrated with herself, and she doesn't feel able to tell her partner because she thinks he will judge and abandon her. Many times, the reader has stayed awake while her partner is sleeping and begins to cry, then her partner wakes up after sobs and finds the reader crying, and she finally confesses her trauma and her love comforts her. Again, if you're uncomfortable with this, you're free not to write it down! Hugs!

Characters: Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn.

Hiii<3 yeahh, I'll do this, and yes, I write for arcane sometimes, I do take requests 😄.

Arcane Women x Reader w/ trauma Headcannons

Scenario: The reader struggles with intimacy due to past trauma, afraid of judgment and abandonment. She often stays awake, crying, feeling frustrated herself, and ashamed. Until one night, her partner wakes up and finds her breaking down. Comfort and love follow.

Warning ⚠️: angst, trauma, past abuse, comfort, fluff.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Before you ended up in Zaun/Piltover and met, vi, Jinx, or caitlyn, your life was far from kind. You had experienced relationships that weren't built on love or trust, just lust, power, control, manipulation, and fear.

You were once with someone who made you feel like your body was something they deserved rather than something you owned. Your bound were ignored - your "no" was met with guilt tripping, anger, or silent treatment until you gave in. You learned to freeze rather than fight back because arguing led to worse outcomes. Over time, you started believing that love was something you had to earn by giving parts of yourself away.

Even after escaping that life, the scars lingered. You told yourself you were free and that no one can hurt you again, but when it comes to intimacy, your body still remembers what it felt like to be powerless.

Kisses sometimes feels like suffocating.

Touch- no matter how gentle - could make your skin crawl.

Even when your partner held you in the safest way, your mind whispered, what if they get tired of waiting? What if they leave?

You love them, but you hated yourself for feeling like this.

-Vi

● Vi had always been patient with you. She never pushes, never pressures you - just waits for you to come to her when you're ready, but she does notice this from the beginning of the relationship. How you'd tense slightly when things got to heated. How your kisses always stopped before they could get too deep. She doesn't pressure you or anything. She waits for to be ready, but what she doesn't know is that you don't think you'll ever be ready.

●Tonight is another restless night. You lie beside vi, staring at the ceiling while she sleeps, steady and warm next to you. You wish you could be at peace like that, but the weight on your chest won't let you breathe properly. You bite lips, trying to hold the tears back, but your body betrays you. A quiet sob escapes before you can stop it.

●A slight shift, then a groggy, sleep rough voice:

●"Babe?" Her voice is thick with sleep, but the concern is immediate.

●She sees you curled up, shaking. Something in her chest hurts.

●She reaches out, but the moment her hand brushes your back, you flinch. That makes her freeze.

●"Talk to me, sweetheart."

●You shake your head, hands gripping the sheets like they're the only thing keeping you together. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

●"For what?" Vi asks, brow furrowing.

●You try to explain how you want to be normal, how you hate that you pull away when she touches you, how you're afraid she'll get frustrated and walk away like everyone else did. Your voice cracks as you confess what happened in the past, how you were used, how your body never felt like yours.

●Vi listens, silent, herfists clenching under the blankets. Not at you, but at the people who did this to you. At the world that made you feel so fucking small.

●She leans in, gently tilting your chin up so you can see her eyes - so full of love and unwavering devotion.

●"You never have to apologize for this. Ever." She kisses your forehead, slow and lingering. "I don't need anything from you, okay? Just you. However you are, whenever you're ready. And if you're never ready? That's fine, too."

●Your breath hitches. "But... what if you get tired of waiting?

●Vi huffs a small laugh, but there's no humor in it - only warmth.

●"Then I'll wait longer."

●For the first time in a long time, you believe someone.

-Jinx

●Jinx sleeps like the dead usually, but tonight, something pulls her from her dreams - maybe it's instinct, maybe it's the way the bed feels too cold despite your body being right there.

●And then she hears it. Soft, muffled crying, her heart clenches.

● Jinx turns over, rubbing her eyes, then freezes when she sees you curled up, facing away from her, shoulders shaking.

●"Babe?"

●You stiffen, hurriedly wiping your face. "Sorry, I - just go back to sleep."

●Jinx isn't having it. Within seconds, she's hovering over you, pressing her forehead against the back of your head.

●"Nuh-uh, nice try. What's wrong, sugarplum?"

●You try to hold it in. You do. But the moment she snakes an arm around your waist, anchoring you to her, it all comes spilling out in broken whispers.

●Jinx listens. And for once, she doesn't joke, doesn't deflect - just holds you, silent and still, until you're done. When you finally stop, she exhales a shaky breath.

●"Damn, that's been eatin' at you this whole time, huh?" You nodded.

●Jinx is quiet for a long moment, and then she turns you into her arms, cupping your face. "Listen up, cause I ain't sayin' this twice. You? You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. And I don't give a shit if we ever do anything like that. I just want you, yeah?" Tears spill over again, but this time, there's relief in them.

●Jinx smirks softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek. "Now come here, lemme squeeze the sadness outta ya." She pulls you against her, tucking you under her chin, holding you like she'll never let go, Because she won't.

-Caitlyn Kirraman

●Caitlyn has always been patient, but tonight, when she wakes to the sound of your quiet sobs, her heart shatters.

●"Darling?" Her voice is soft, laced with concern. You curl in on yourself. "I- I can't do this."

●"Do what?" Caitlyn sits up, brushing her fingers over your back. "Be what you deserve." Caitlyn breath catches, "love, look at me."

●You hesitate, but finally do. And when you see her face - soft, full of love, worried - the words come pouring out.

●You tell her everything. The past, the guilt, the fear that she'll leave. Caitlyn listens, her hand gently rubbing yours.

●"I wish I could take the pain away." She says softly. "I wish I could erase every horrible thing they did to you. But since I can't... let me show you that love doesn't have to be like that."

●You choke back a sob.

●Caitlyn presses a tender kiss to your knuckles. "No matter what, I'm here. We go at your pace, always."

●Her words wrap around you like the warmest blanket. And finally, after all these years, you believe it.

[laswells-ashtray]

Soo uhm... autistic ghost if you do that? I mean that man is autism creature. And I love him. And need him being a silly little autistic guy. Like headcannons, and how it'd be in his relationships with people. Like romantic sexual or platonic? Please and thank you.

Ghost doesn't think he shows many symptoms of having autism because he's commonly told "I'd never have guessed", however, that's typically because the people telling him that haven't spent enough time with him to pick up on anything.

Eventually, the people he's closest to notice things but they never bring it up. Notable but not worth making him self-conscious about. That's what John calls it.

Simon doesn't like the texture of some of his clothes, he'll brush up against John and then automatically reach away to wipe his hand on his own t-shirt or his cargos. John stops wearing certain shirts around him, and sticks to the softer, worn fabrics that Simon doesn't mind touching when it's reasonable for him to do so.

He notices that his lieutenant stocks up on certain foods that he likes, always the same ones before they spontaneously switch up after almost a year and he doesn't tend to go back to them. He tries to keep whatever snack or drink it is in his office so that on the days that Simon wants to crawl out of his skin, he can offer the other man something and maybe somewhere quiet to sit in away from everyone else.

Gaz thinks for a while that maybe Ghost just doesn't like him, but that's alright, they're coworkers and they don't have to be friends. He doesn't seem to like Soap either. That's until he picks up on something, Soap and he can get loud after missions. The adrenaline is still pulsing through their system and they joke around, getting rowdy like two lads in the back of a classroom. Ghost tends to stay quiet, only speaking if spoken to and even then it's a faint mutter. He gets twitchy the louder Gaz and Soap get, his breathing becomes consciously slow and his eyes narrow until he's glaring daggers into whatever is opposite him.

Then it clicks, the man is overstimulated. Overstimulated and unwilling to say so despite his own blatant discomfort. And all it takes is keeping quiet after missions, the conversations between him and Soap become soft whispers and the stabbing tension in Ghost's shoulders lessens noticeably. It's after that, that Ghost starts talking to him more, friendlier and willing to joke around. Gaz knows they aren't exactly the closest of friends, Simon Riley is a puzzle he doesn't have the decades of solving like Price does but it's something and that's good enough.

John and Nikolai have to adapt certain aspects of their relationship when it opens up to include Simon, something that both of them are more than willing to do to ensure the comfort of everyone involved.

Simon is open to touch in varying ways. If he's the one to initiate contact then he could end up sandwiched between the captain and the pilot without complaint. He'll grumble and bat at them half-heartedly, all for show but all it takes is Nikolai kissing his cheek and John nuzzling his jaw to shut him up.

Some days a simple hand on his shoulder is too much, Simon will tense up and he won't say a word about it but they can hear how his breath hitches. Those days they won't touch him, if they sit down together on the couch tne he'll sit down on the tattered, ancient swivel chair by the window. Sometimes he'll brave sticking his legs out and poking John's thighs with his toes, other times he won't. It's up to him and they see no reason to push.

It can be a mix other days, a kiss on the cheek might be fine but when Nikolai plasters himself over Simon's back it's just too much at once. He'll retreat tactically and brush a thumb over his cheek instead.

Sex is different than they're used to but it's a welcome change. There's no more lying around and falling asleep disgusting, leaving it a mess to be dealt with the next day. They become adept at clean-up, and Simon prefers to shower after they're done. Sometimes he'll drag one of them in alongside him, other days he needs the moment alone. Make no mistake, Simon is usually the filthiest out of the three of them. he does things with this tongue that have left John's ears ringing and he can haul Nikolai around without thinking twice. But he needs time to decompress and he'll take it as a moment in the shower or a post-shower cigarette.

[lenreli]

i still feel your touch in my dream [dreamling]

[AO3]

M, 8.8k. Asking your best friend to be your fake boyfriend when you're straight is a foolproof plan. Or so Dream thinks.

-

“You’re―what,” Hob says, confused as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Can you repeat that?” Well, maybe confused doesn’t cover it. Flummoxed, maybe. Bewildered. Definitely bewildered. 

“I want you to be my plus-one to the wedding,” Hob nods, getting that part easily. “And since you’re one of few people I trust, and as my best friend, we should pretend to be together. To piss off Desire,” he says slowly. Hob’s brows raise. 

Then he sighs, “I get the plus-one, I’m for the pissing off your sibling with―I’m just. You’re straight,” Hob says, hand chopping down between them. “Dream, you’re―did you forget that? Suddenly?” Hob’s voice gets very high-pitched at the end, making Dream quash a smile. 

“I do know, yes,” he says with a nod, “but it has been said that sexuality is fluid, and I’m quite frankly annoyed at Desire disparaging me for being the token straight,” he puts in air-quotes, “whenever I meet up with my siblings.”  

Hob opens his mouth, then shuts it, looking contemplative, “oh yeah, I could see that getting nasty,” Hob mutters under his breath. And it definitely has, Desire constantly poking and prodding him until there’s violence. Or he walks off. “And the wedding is―the weekend? At some fancy hotel or something, right?” Dream nods. Hob scratches an eyebrow with a nail, then sighs deeply. “Better be good food there.” 

Dream finally smiles, overjoyed even as Hbo stares into the distance intently, probably working out his work and whatnot. “Thank you very much, Hob,” he says, rocking on the heels of his feet. “Now, about your suit―” 

Hob groans and looks to the ceiling, “I have savings! I can afford a new one! Not like, fifty-thousand suits like you have somewhere, but fancy enough,” Hob waves him off. 

-

 “A taxi? Couldn’t afford a limo?” Hob asks once he’s inside said taxi, Dream giving him a look as he hangs up the garment bag on the handle inside, Hob’s own suitcase stowed in the back, along with his. “Couldn’t resist,” Hob says once he meets his eye, grinning. Dream crosses his arms as the taxi starts to move.

“Maybe if you showed me your suit I would’ve gotten a limo,” he retorts dryly. Dream stares intently at the black garment bag, hoping that unknown x-ray powers would appear. “If it’s some sort of monstrosity, for my sister’s wed―” 

“It’s not! And it matches yours! There’s black,” Hob defends with a shrug, and Dream huffs, placated. 

Hob gets out his phone, meanwhile Dream gets out a book, happy to spend time with each other in silence. At least, until― 

“Are you really sure you wanna do this?” Hob asks, once again. Dream’s eyes go to the ceiling, annoyed with Hob’s constant pestering about this. “I just don’t want you freaking out!” Hob says. “We’re gonna have to kiss! And―well, kissing, mainly.” 

“I’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh. Hob gives him a skeptical glance. “Even with not liking it, I know how to act,” he reminds Hob, and there’s a split-second of an emotion he can’t recognise on the other’s face, which gives him a spike of irritation, not knowing what it means, or why Hob hid it so quickly. 

“That’s true,” Hob sighs, hunching on himself as he scratches an eyebrow with a thumb. “I just hope you’ve mentally prepared yourself for the kissing and how touchy-feely I’m going to be.” 

“It’s more tiring work to deal with a whole wedding than that,” he says, and he’s mainly used to Hob in his space, legs brushing or Hob picking grass out of his hair, the other’s touches always pleasant. And never draining, like dealing with a loud wedding for example. “I hope you’ve prepared not to fall in love with me by the end of it, at least,” he says flippantly, not serious in the slightest.

Hob slides down the seat and looks out the tiny strip of the window not covered by his garment bag, “don’t worry, I won’t be.”

Dream, inexplicably, is cut deep by it.

-

The White Lotus is on the beach, the weather grey and dreary. Despair, like him, probably favours it, especially for her wedding. And he’s pretty sure they’re not going to go outside much, the schedule only allowing a dinner tonight, which they have to be dressed up for, then the wedding the day after. 

Even with the fake-boyfriend with Hob being there, he’s at least happy with the other man being there, always finding comfort with him. The shower cuts off and Dream blinks, stretched out on their one bed. His suit, all black, is itchy. Or maybe it’s because of some other reason as he waits, anxiety creeping slowly as he thinks of seeing his siblings, the dining room full of people which they passed on the way to their room― 

The bathroom door opens, and Dream sits up, breathless from the sudden movement as he scrutinises Hob’s suit. Pinstriped trousers and jacket, white shirt and then a blue tie. Though, the thing that catches his eye more is the eyeliner, making the other’s brown eyes even more intense. “Acceptable,” he says, swallowing as Hob smiles. “Eyeliner?” He asks. 

Hob shrugs and sits next to him, warmth pressing into his side, “we are together, so we should match,” Hob says with a smile. 

“Good thinking,” he nods. “Thank you for coming,” he breathes, anxiety dwindling as Hob leans into him. 

“Of course,” Hob says quietly, then eventually an ah, and Dream looks over as Hob gets something from an inside pocket of his jacket. “Got these for you, since you probably lost yours under all the black in your suitcase,” he says with a smile. 

Earplugs, the background-noise cancelling kind that he probably left at home, in the bag he usually carries. “Or the kind I accidentally left at home,” he replies with a huff, and Hob gives him an even brighter smile as he takes the earplugs, putting them in his trouser pocket. 

-

“Wait, how many times?” Hob asks on their way to the dining room. 

“This is her sixth marriage,” he explains. “Desire keeps making jokes about Despair―well,” he shrugs, “there’s a betting pool between my other siblings as to how long her current soon-to-be-wife will live,” he says quietly, Hob’s eyebrows raising higher. 

Hob lets out a quiet whistle, face baffled, “and? What did you bet on?” 

Dream sniffs, jaw setting, “of course, I’d never stoop so low,” he says as they stop outside the dining room. Hob blinks, clearly not buying it, “a year, at least,” he whispers between them.

“Wow,” Hob says, countenance showing nothing of what he thinks as he glances at the dining room. “Ready, partner?” Hob asks, an arm going around his waist, and Dream swallows at the warmth radiating from the other man. 

Dream sighs, then nods, walking past tables of people until they reach the table closest to where the brides are ― the family table, with his siblings, his and Hob’s names emblazoned on cards as they sit down. 

“Gadling? What is Gadling doing here?” Desire says across from them, tone judgemental as they stare at Hob, and Dream scowls, Hob’s hand still on his back as Hob smiles pleasantly. “Well?” They demand, glittery red eyeshadow sparkling in the light, matching their lips. 

“I’m his partner,” Hob says simply, and the table stops, everyone else’s eyes on swiveling to them. He can feel it, even as Hob’s other hand caresses his jaw, turning him to look at Hob, brown eyes kind― 

There’s gasps, but everything else seems to fall away, the kiss chaste―but luxurious, hands scratching through his hair as Hob pulls him closer. Hob’s tongue slowly presses into his mouth, teeth biting into his lips and he shudders, can only focus on the way that Hob tastes of chocolate, of the stubble scratching hard-soft against him, insides tingling and light-headed as he holds onto the other’s thighs. 

The kiss ends with another press of lips, and Dream hears himself make a small sound in protest, wanting more. 

… Wanting more? Dream blinks, looking over to see Desire gaping―which he also feels like doing, if it didn’t feel like― 

His atoms were being rewritten, can barely hear everything else over too much and not enough. Hob’s satisfied? He can only hear because of putting his head on the other’s shoulder, feeling him speak more than hearing it, and Hob’s hand on his neck, softly stroking the skin. 

Dream’s unwilling to let go, sounds slowly filtering back to him in a cacophony of noise, which makes him pull away, sitting back in his seat as he takes out the earplugs Hob got him, putting them in and then sighing as he only hears the table, Hob talking with Death. 

Hob’s hand is still near him, can feel the heat of it on the back of his chair, pressing into him, thumb rubbing up and down his shoulder blade and Dream’s lips tingle. Even the joy at seeing Desire still gaping is muted under the way he would rather be kissing Hob again.

-

“You good?” Hob asks, snapping Dream of of his daze between courses and speeches with Hob’s other hand coming up to his cheek, can feel a thumb trace his cheekbone as Hob smiles, brows showing worry. “Not too much?” 

“No,” he manages, and Hob slides his chair closer, legs brushing and Dream almost resists the way he wants to nuzzle into Hob’s hand ― until he does, and he can hear Hob’s small chuckle, bright and making him relax even more into it. 

“Good,” Hob whispers, brown eyes soft and fond, affection clear to see and Dream’s throat closes up at it. Hob sighs and presses their foreheads together, and Dream’s lips tingle at their breaths, at the odd feeling of wanting Hob to kiss him again. Can feel it building up, the yearning for it. 

A small, miniscule part of him still thinks it was a fluke, that he’s― 

“You don’t mind?” Hob asks, lips brushing, and Dream’s heart jumps into his throat. 

“No,” he says after a breath, not wanting to be too eager, even though he is. 

The kiss is soft, indulgent and chaste, and Dream melts into it, remembering he has hands as he holds onto the other’s waist with one, the other petting at the soft-rough of Hob’s beard. It deepens and Dream swallows down a shiver, feeling like the air in the room is rapidly disappearing with how all-consuming it is.

There’s vague sounds of disgust, but Dream doesn’t register it, can only press into Hob more as a thumb touches his bottom lip, the rough drag of it he can feel down to his toes― 

And suddenly, it ends and Dream takes a deep breath, blinking as he looks at the waiters, bringing them another course of dinner, leaving him achingly bereft of Hob. 

Not a fluke, he thinks distantly. Dream wants to―for Hob to touch him more, searing hands and soft lips, wants more than just the arm on the back of his chair, Hob easily going back to eating and talking, and not at all like he’s changed everything Dream thought he knew about himself.

-

Dream wakes up the next morning, feeling like yesterday was a fever dream.

Or that may be because of Hob, who runs searing hot. And he’s holding onto, forehead pressed against the other’s back, sheets bunched down to his lower half as he touches Hob’s waist, skin soft. And hot. And, even just like this, Dream thinks of kissing the back in front of him, of waking Hob up with them, who’d smile and― 

Gently, he slips out of the bed and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door. 

Taking a deep breath, he sits on the cold tiles and rubs his face. So he may not be as straight as he thought, however it’s still terrifying. Especially with Hob, who’s―his best friend! 

Getting up, he moves to the basin, noticing his heart beating quickly. And. Fuck. Why is he hard?! Muffling a groan, he washes his face with cold water.

Maybe a cold shower would be more effective. 

-

“I have an idea,” Hob says, looking away from him as a hand tugs his ear, and Dream sits on the bed. “But I just, it’s silly―” 

Dream blinks, considering. Hob knows him, and he trusts Hob. With far more then he’s even beginning to realise. “Okay.” 

Hob’s head whips around, eyes wide, “you didn’t even hear my―” Hob wheezes out, sitting closer to him. “It’s―” the other’s loss for words, red on his face makes Dream confused. Though the hand on his shoulder makes him less so. “Because,” Hob whispers, and Dream swallows a sound as he’s gently pushed onto the bed, nails scratching up and down his throat―with Hob’s breath on the other side. 

Suddenly the cold shower doesn’t seem like enough as Hob bites into his neck, and he shivers, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as Hob licks and nibbles at his throat. The other’s stubble is pleasant, makes him arch up into it as Hob sucks at his skin. Gasping, he holds onto Hob’s shoulder, body tingling as a final lick gets placed over the stinging marks. 

“Not too much?” Hob asks, voice rough and eyes dark as they stare down at him, fingers still lightly caressing his neck. 

Heart racing, Dream gulps down a―whine, pathetic and needy as he shakes his head. Can feel the sting of it, the blood rushing towards the marks, towards his face. Doesn’t want to speak, with only more and yes on his mind. Especially if it involves Hob’s gaze so heavy, almost palpable on him.

Hob licks his lips and Dream can only watch, transfixed as Hob gives him a once-over―and he’s glad that his black shirt and pants are loose enough to hide the start of an erection. 

“I’ll―I need to get ready,” Hob says with a bright smile, walking off to the bathroom in the next breath. Dream inhales deeply, closing his eyes as a hand comes up to cover the bruises, heart beating out of his chest as he wonders if he’ll even survive the day. 

-

Dream’s focus throughout the day is shot, to put it mildly. Even as he stands with his siblings as the vows are made and papers are signed, the bright red mark on his neck aches and itches, showing close to his collar, his suit out for another day. Desire gaped at the sight of it, while Hob just smiled and kissed his cheek, the hand on his waist leaving as Hob sits down in the aisle, pinstriped suit on. 

After ― so many pictures, he’s happy to sit down next to Hob, groaning as he finally gets a chance to rest his legs. And putting his head onto Hob’s shoulder, sighing in relief as Hob laughs and pats his hair. 

“All done?” Hob asks as he’s pulled closer, the pleasant warmth of the other man making him relax even more, uncaring of the chaos around them of people talking and congratulations to the newly-wedded couple. 

“Had to stop Delirium from going into the ocean, at least until after lunch,” he mumbles. “And Desire kept bringing attention to―” my hickey, he doesn’t say, can feel his face heating just thinking that. 

“Poor baby,” Hob coos, kissing his hair softly―and there’s only a skipped beat of Dream’ heart as Hob guides his face up with a hand, more pecks against his forehead, down to nose. The soft, chaste kiss on his lips makes his insides flutter. 

Groaning, Dream hides his face back under Hob’s head, putting his arms around warm shoulders as he tries to not let his brain focus on the entirely new way he appreciates Hob in his suit, the hot rush of seeing him in it once they got dressed in the morning. 

-

The rest of the day seems to fly by ― the time creeping closer to them leaving. To Hob no longer having a constant arm on the back of his chair, or around his waist. 

A press of lips to his hair, a kiss that feels like all the air is sucked out of the dining room, indulgent and makes him light-headed. He can only follow uselessly as the kiss ends, and he shivers as fingers leave his hair. 

Dream is in a daze, has never been punch-drunk off of kisses as he doesn’t remember eating his lunch, or dessert. Can only think of the tingling of his lips, the pleasant scratch of Hob’s beard and gentle hands. Though, there was that moment of embarrassment, clarity as Hob put a spoonful of dessert in front of him, citrus-y in comparison to the chocolate mousse that he got. 

Lunch done, people leave or split off into groups, going to the beach or nearby bars. Hob and Dream end up sitting outside, people watching. “Aren’t you going to go in?” Dream asks eventually, though he would miss the warmth around his waist. 

“I’m good,” Hob says with a shrug, using his free hand to point out a group of people .”Polycule or messy divorce?” He asks. 

Dream stares at the group, two of the people talking intensely, the others watching on in worry. “One or two of them want out of the polycule, obviously,” Dream replies dryly. 

“Ah,” Hob says, gently nudging him to look at a waiter, strained customer-service-smile in place as he’s talked to by a particularly passionate customer. “He’s totally gonna get a special for this one.” 

“Disgusting, but likely true,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, making Hob laugh and lean into him. Dream’s heart races. And something springs to mind―that Hob’s only been the one giving kisses. Pulse in his throat, he presses his lips to Hob’s, can still feel the laughter as Hob stills, brown eyes shocked. 

Running off instinct, he presses forward, putting his hands onto Hob’s cheek, stubble soft under his hands. Hob lets out a small sound and returns the kiss slowly, even as the arm around his waist moves, nails digging into his spine, and Dream swallows a gasp, brain full of static pleasure. 

His pleasure only doubles as Hob’s free hand sits on his neck ― fingers pressing into the mark that was left, Dream can’t help the shudder, the overwhelming need to get even closer, wants to crawl into Hob’s lap as Hob’s lips move down, teeth scraping against his chin and down― 

“Ugh, really? I just got my appetite back,” a voice says in disgust, making Dream overtly aware of Hob at the edge of his jaw ― and Desire in front of them, a metaphorical splash of cold water. 

Hob breathes against his skin, which he can feel heating up at his sibling’s gaze, and Dream keeps his eyes somewhere on Desire’s red one-piece, bejewelled and bedazzled, skimpy and costing a small fortune, probably ― and Dream bites his tongue at the smile from Hob that he can feel before they part. “We weren’t doing anything,” Dream says eventually, voice rougher than it was before. 

Desire rolls their eyes and breezes past, saying ― something. Which he doesn’t catch due to the redness of Hob’s lips as he watches Desire walk by, an eyebrow raised. 

-

Usually, Dream would already be back into his hotel room by the time the sun sets ― but finds it hard to leave Hob’s side, the casual affection he experiences. And Hob doesn’t expect him to join in with a conversation as he talks with some of his sibling’s friends, a hand around his waist or on his shoulder as Hob talks about his job as a professor. 

“Sorry,” Hob says bashfully after they’ve left, apparently going back home. “Should we get room service, or dinner here again?” 

Dream blinks, can vaguely feel hunger underneath the pleasant haze of Hob’s attention. “I saw an Indian place on this road,” he offers, feeling pride as Hob brightens. “When we were in the taxi.” 

“Brilliant!” Hob says enthusiastically, close―and Dream freezes at the sudden kiss, hands cradling his face. 

He can feel Hob’s smile, his joy as he’s pulled closer, Hob’s body warm against him, and he relaxes slowly into it, grabbing onto Hob’s pinstriped jacket. And he thinks of Hob reacting like this outside of this hotel, heart in his throat as Hob ends the kiss with a lighter one. 

“Let’s go!” Hob tugs him along, and Dream can only walk forward. “No offence to your sister, but her food choices were certainly choices,” Hob says under his breath. 

Dream chuckles as they walk out of the hotel, “yes, her taste is quite… bland,” he grimaces. “Aside from desserts. She does love those,” he nods. 

“I need some complex spice or I might just go insane,” Hob mutters, making Dream smile as he looks down the road, this time Dream tugging Hob into going across the road. 

-

The next morning, Dream wakes up in Hob’s arms, can feel a forehead against the back of his hair. And they’re leaving― 

Which means no more kisses, no more of the casual affection, or this, Hob’s body searing and wrapped around him, and Dream feels heavy. 

Opening an eye, he sees they still have a few more hours before checkout. 

So he ignores it, putting his hands on the arms around him, and even with all that he’s recently learned, he shuts his eyes and lets the time pass. 

Hob’s leg between his ― the way Hob groans, arms wrapping tightly around him, and Dream swallows, worries that the other man’s waking up―but Hob just lets out a sigh. Hob’s head is now closer to his neck, can feel the breath on the back of it as Hob stretches behind him with a groan, their feet tangling. 

And a hardness against his lower back, only briefly. Dream’s mouth dries, skin feeling too-warm and too-tight suddenly, not helped by Hob’s body. Body warm and somehow right, and Dream stops thinking before that sentence ends.

-

Hob and Dream live together, have been roommates for years, fitting into each other’s places easily. And coming back from the weekend, there’s an oddness, a wrench thrown into the works. Hob is more closed-off, not as affectionate― 

And Dream can’t stop thinking about the weekend. It probably needs to be called The Weekend, capitalised. A moment between how they were before, and how they are after. 

Before, he felt no weirdness, stepping into Hob’s room, seeing Hob at his desk, marking papers in a ratty pair of sweatpants and shirt. Wouldn’t even register the bed as he steps, not thinking of Hob’s warmth, thinking of breath against the back of his neck as they slept. 

“Hob,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to fidget, still smelling of smoke and sweat from a club. A gay one.

Just to know that it’s not some Hob-shaped thing, these feelings―which, some of them are. Even with the kissing being good from these other men, the casual way he went about, almost detached and scientific, wanting to quantify it. This one’s beard didn’t scratch as nicely as Hob’s, that man’s eyes weren’t brown enough, this other man’s hands didn’t hold him as nicely as―Hob hums, still going through his work, and even with knowing that Hob won’t react terribly, he works through the tentative fear with a deep breath, stepping closer.

“I don’t think I’m straight,” he says, and that makes Hob stop his work. There’s heartbeats of silence, Dream’s heart racing at what he said, making it something real. 

Hob puts his pen down, still not facing him. “Oh.”

Dream swallows, feeling a bit confident now that nothing’s happened with what he said, “I went to that club you go to sometimes. It was nice,” he offers. Of course, he doesn’t says that you may have ruined me for all other men before I even knew or something else that would ruin their friendship. 

“I’m happy for you,” Hob’s tone is odd―indescribable, and Dream frowns, walking closer until he leans next to Hob. At this, Hob looks up to him and smiles, “really, I am,” he says, voice more matching to his words. “And thank you for telling me.” 

Dream tilts his head, relaxing against the desk, “how did you realise?” He asks, hit with the knowledge that over their many years of friendship, he’s never learnt. 

Hob shrugs, going back to his marking. “When I was teenager. It was like getting slapped over the head with it,” he says with a laugh. “One of those dramatic moments when you see―well, you know.” 

He’s happy to note that Hob’s arm presses into his waist, the careless press of before, that Dream now appreciates in another way, “and figuring out your sexuality?” 

“Well, that took a while. But honestly, it’s different for everyone,” Hob rests his head on his hand, pen tapping against his cheek, “no pressure from me for you to figure it out. Even just being not straight or queer, or feeling an affinity to any of the labels, or not. Whatever!” 

Dream nods, sliding up onto the table, pulling up the papers as he does so. “How goes academia today?” 

Hob groans, resting his head on the one he’s marking. “I’ve read through two AI essays. I wish they knew more!”

-

Dream wakes up, sheets tangled and blood rushing, reaching across his bed for― 

A Hob from dreams, dark eyes staring down at him, and he groans, pulling the sheet over his head. His cock aches, leaking as he shuts his eyes, trying to keep the remnants of the wet dream in sight. The pressure of Hob’s hands trailing down his body, the long-healed bruise on his neck, more being bitten onto him. 

He can’t remember the last time he got so worked up from a dream, not even during puberty. 

There wasn’t even anything explicit, just the pressure, the sight of Hob on top of him. Fingers trailing down his body, down to his thighs, Hob’s lips following his hands. Dream shivers at the remembrance of it, overwhelmed with it. 

Biting his lip, he takes a deep breath as he grabs his aching cock, sparks of pleasure making him gasp as he imagines it’s Hob stroking him. 

Hob’s hands, searing hot, pleasantly rough and he whimpers, dick leaking around his fingers incessantly. Hob staring up at him, eyes dark and black, the gaze tangible and fuck, he wants it, pulse jumping under the imagined weight of it. 

Biting his cheek, he lets out a small cry as the orgasm rushes up to meet him, come coating his hand, and the sheet on top.

In the post-orgasmic haze, he can only manage a small amount of shame, thinking of Hob as he did.

-

Dream stares down at the text message, dread already making its home in his stomach. 

Desire

that boyfriend of yrs should come ;) unless… 

Sure, Hob and he are still ― that’s not the problem. He doesn’t even know how to articulate it, considering Hob’s either hot-or-cold with him, entirely randomly. And today Hob’s been distant, smile not reaching his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, he goes to the kitchen, where Hob’s making dinner. “Hob?” The other man hums, focusing on a pot of pasta. “You should meet up with my siblings and I this Saturday,” he says lightly. 

“As your partner?” Hob asks, voice flat and Dream winces, his silence telling. “Think I’ll be busy that day,” Hob says, turning to give him one of those smiles that doesn’t show in his eyes. 

Walking closer, he watches as Hob puts things into another pan, “are you sure?” 

“Can’t get out of it. Sorry,” Hob says, not sounding sorry at all as he shrugs. Or truthful, either, which feels like the worst part. He has heard from many of Hob’s exes about his lying, among many other flaws, but he’s always willing to tell the truth to Dream. At least, until this. 

“Okay,” he frowns, not wanting to call it out. Hob gets out some small spoons and tries the pasta sauce, humming in consideration. And suddenly Hob is staring at him, a happy smile ― which does brighten up his eyes ― on his face, and Dream blinks at the spoon in front of his face, pasta sauce on it. 

“Spicy enough for you, or more?” 

-

There was sound coming outside of the apartment, but Dream waves it off as Hob, putting on his sleepclothes after a shower. Opening the bathroom door, he absently dries his hair, then freezes. 

In front of him ― well, not him ― but in front of Hob’s door, is Hob, every ounce of attention on the man he’s crowding against the door, sharing small laughs and words. The man is is tall and dark-skinned, thin dark locs in Hob’s hands as they kiss. 

The man glances over at him, and Dream jolts into awareness, somehow freezing up even more as he gulps, insides twisting in― 

Jealousy, the way the man starts to speak up more ― then a hand covering his mouth as Hob shushes him, eyes sparkling even from the side as he finally opens his bedroom door, more hushed talking as the door shuts, Hob not even aware of him. 

Wide-eyed, he quietly goes to his own room, noting that he has felt this before with Hob’s exes, or hookups. Which he wasn’t aware of, the jealousy, until it flooded through him, always thought of it of―he wasn’t sure, something about Hob’s attention, about stealing Hob away from him, he’d thought once. And the envy of it, can think of a yawning void of Hob’s casual, flirting touches with others.

 Putting on his headphones, Dream puts on his music and tries not think of how he wants to be the focus of that attention again, those heady kisses and― 

More, even, he thinks, can feel his face heating as he gets out a book to read. Though he ends up stuck on the first page, unable to retain more than the first word, can only think of wet dreams and the ache of wanting to be the one Hob is paying singular attention to. 

-

Desire gives him a judgemental look, making him feel small in between the rest of their siblings. “Your boyfriend’s failed to show up again,” they say acridly, and Dream tries not to grimace. Considering the way Desire’s eyes light up, he’s failed. 

The judgement is suffocating, and Dream considers running away. Or getting a seat outside this suddenly stifling restaurant. 

Work thing. Can’t miss it, was Hob’s lie this time ― and ― he gets it, that they’re not in the actual relationship his sibling’s think it is. The relationship that he wishes it was, but it’s not like he’s going to say to Desire, who lorded it over him when his last relationships broke. 

He can’t do that. 

“Well?” They drawl, looking smugly satisfied as they twirl blond hair around their finger. 

“He’s busy,” Dream says with heat, unwilling to give in to the pressure. Desire scoffs. Dream opens his mouth― 

“Sibling, let it go,” Despair replies with a sigh, and Dream boggles, feeling as surprised as Desire looks. “I wish I was with my wife right now, but alas,” she continues with a pout. 

Desire squint-glares at him, but does let it go, though they settle on a scowl and a huff. “Fine, but only for you, sister dear.” 

Next to him on the left, Death groans, “now that that’s over with, can we order? I only have so much time―” 

On his right, Delirium speaks up, “you always say that!” 

-

“What happened to you?” Hob asks, and Dream freezes, gingerly stepping into the kitchen ― which he was hoping to sneak past, unable to account for Hob’s apparent radar. Hob gives him a once-over, and he resists the urge to curl up on the small stool, head pounding.

“Nothing,” he says, not wanting to talk about the weird tension between them. Or the excellent idea he had to get drunk enough to actually have a one-night stand. Which is more Hob’s thing, Dream at least preferring at a bit of emotional connection before doing that. 

And so. Alcohol. And a particularly nice man, eyes more of a hazel than brown―”if you say so,” Hob says dryly, eyes on his throat. Ah. Hickies. He  groans as he cups his throat, skin tingling as he flops onto the counter, the chill of it nice compared to the heat in his face. “Painkiller?” 

Dream groans, nodding against the counter, “please,” he says, hearing Hob move around their tiny kitchen. “Aren’t you meant to be at work?” He asks, reasonably sure today is one of those days where Hob leaves. Which he was kind of hoping for, and didn’t get. 

“The semester ends soon, and so I just decided to Zoom for those who really want to ― or need to do more,” Hob explains, and soon enough something cool is pressed against his temple, making him open his eyes, blankly staring at the glass of water against his forehead. Sitting straight, he downs the painkiller next to the glass, drinking most of the water before he puts it down. “Sorry to ruin your apparent sneaking,” Hob says, expression intensely focused on him, and Dream scowls. 

“How did you know?” He asks, can feel the other’s dark eyes on his neck, on the marks put there. They didn’t even do anything ― just heavy petting, the other man citing the alcohol on his breath. Though there was a handjob, quick and yet a marvel, the feeling of another’s man’s dick in his hand― 

Hob’s face becomes hard to understand, but only briefly before he smirks. “I have my ways,” Hob says. Dream gives him an unimpressed stare as he puts his head onto his arms on the counter, which also helps with the scrutiny he can still feel. “Your boots are very stompy,” Hob says, solemn. 

Dream stares down at his black platforms in betrayal as he pouts into his arm. “They are,” he mutters, in the end deciding to let go of the betrayal. He can’t stay mad at them. 

A bowl gets placed in front of him, and Dream stares in confusion at the cereal and milk in it. “You should eat,” Hob says as he puts a spoon in the bowl, pushing it into his arms. Dream blinks and can only agree. “My classes start in two hours, so wanna watch more of that show?” 

Nodding, he takes the bowl, absently eating it as Severance gets put on. 

-

Dream swallows the hurt as Hob’s hand, coming up to his shoulder ― stops and goes back to Hob’s side. They were so good, and suddenly, this again, the aborted touches, and he resists the urge to ask why? 

Mainly because he’s not sure he’d like the answer. Hob gives him a smile before he leaves and Dream sighs, flopping down onto the sofa. Can only think of the way Hob continues to not touch him. 

And that Weekend, where Hob was always touching him, and for all that he did appreciate it, he wants it even more now. Closing his eyes, he brings up the memory of it ― a hand on his shoulder, or on the small of his back. Fingers in his hair and a soft beard. 

Putting his arms around himself, Dream grabs onto the echoes of them, desperately wanting it to be Hob. 

He considers ― briefly ― of getting up, going to a club and trying to push himself in the easy skinship of that, but discards it, mind still spiraling on why won’t you touch me anymore, not even a pat on the shoulder― 

His phone rings and he startles, pulled out of his head as he opens it, Death’s face on the Calling screen. Huffing, he accepts it. “Sister?” He greets in confusion. 

“Desire set up another meeting, and this time didn’t say that Dream’s boyfriend should show up or else,” she mutters, and Dream’s heart drops, rubbing his face. Fuck. “So, you know. Just saying it here and not in our groupchat so Desire won’t be so, well.” 

“They will be,” he says, suddenly a lot more tired. Especially with Hob’s constant lies, the lack of touching, Desire’s apparent need to see Hob as his partner― “thank you sister,” he replies shortly, hanging up as he grits his teeth. 

Grabbing a red pillow next to him, he screams into it, at least transferring the screaming inside his brain to the outside. 

-

Dream is ― between jobs, at the moment, unsure what to do next― 

And there’s bashing on the door, which thankfully distracts him from looking at employment listings. Sighing, he opens it, then blinks at Matthew, with Hob hanging off his shoulder like a limpet. “He’s your problem now,” is Matthew says before Hob is shoved to him, and Dream freezes as Hob groans into his shoulder, the soft heat of Hob making his skin tingle as Matthew leaves. 

Blinking, he shuts the door as Hob leans into him, and he scrunches his nose at the beer he can smell from the other man. Dream doesn’t want to take of a drunk Hob ― but also, Hob isn’t shifting away, so he pats the other’s shoulder and takes them to their kitchen. “Usually you’re better at this,” he comments as he gets out a glass of water, putting it into Hob’s free hand. 

“Dr’m,” Hob slurs, staring at him with wide brown eyes ― and the hand leaves the glass to hold Dream’s cheek, and he stills, can feel his blood rush wildly up to the touch as he swallows. “‘Msorry,” Hob slurs, pressing into the where his ear meets his jaw. 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he chokes out, confused as he soaks up the other’s body heat, the press of Hob against his side. Swallowing again, he picks up the glass and puts it up, Hob grabbing it. “Drink.” 

Hob huffs, but drinks. Dream tries not to stare too obviously at the way Hob’s throat works, at the odd amount of stubble leading down to soft skin ― and Dream looks away hastily as the glass is put down on the counter. “Dream,” Hob says, sounding a bit more lucid. Though, hands do grab his cheeks and he can feel his skin heating under the touch as Hob turns his face until their eyes meet. 

His mouth dries at the intensity of Hob’s eyes, brain no doubt working hard in between all the alcohol. “Hob,” he says, matching the other’s tone. “You’re drunk,” he says, unsure what pointing it out will accomplish. 

Hob’s hands caress him, and he shivers under the callused fingers, not wanting to break the contact ― but also, he should, before something regrettable happens. Like Hob coming closer, and Dream can’t find it in him to break from the other’s gaze, “I want,” Hob whispers ― and a thumb grazes the edge of his lip― 

Dream’s mind crashes as he pulls away Hob’s hands, who stares down at them in confusion as Dream takes a deep breath. “You’re drunk,” he repeats, more for himself as he wills his heart to not beat out of his chest. “Let’s,” he mumbles, leading Hob to his bedroom. 

“Sometimes, I think,” Hob says, pressing him against the doorframe, and he sucks in a breath at hands going into his hair, pulling him to look at Hob again. 

Hob’s expression is that inscrutable type again, and all Dream can think is I’m gay. Which feels like a very fucking inopportune time to think that, considering how, again, drunk, Hob is. 

It doesn't stop him from thinking it again as Hob chest presses against his, fingers threading more through his hair deliciously, and Dream’s sure Hob can feel insanely fast his heart is beating, can feel his pulse hammering in his neck as it arches. “Dream,” Hob says, voice rough and low― 

His name said like that becomes a reality check and he forces him away ― or pushes Hob into his room, the door shutting loudly. Dream presses his head against the door, cool against his heated skin as he takes calming breaths. 

Drunk. He was drunk ― he’s drunk, Dream thinks to himself desperately, can still feel Hob’s touches, the searing heat down to his bones.

-

A finger presses into his mouth, rough and shiveringly familiar, arousal coursing through him at the simple touch. “My partner,” Hob says, other hand coming up to caress his cheek. “All mine, aren’t you?” 

Dream whines, arching up into the solid body above him, the  heat of him maddening. “Please, yes,” he keens, shuddering as Hob leans down to kiss him, slow and toe-curling deep, the press of it going into his bones. “Please,” he croaks. 

“Dream, my Dream,” Hob whispers into him, sharp teeth and soft stubble making him gasp as they go down his jaw, down his throat ― with Hob’s hands trailing down his naked body. The teeth biting down his throat make him ache, wanting it all over as he scratches up Hob’s arms to scratch up his shoulder blades. 

“Yours,” he breathes, senseless to anything that’s not Hob, that’s not the overwhelming bliss he feels, cock leaking under Hob’s dark stare. 

Hob presses down on his lower half, hazy heat making him whimper as his hands go into Hob’s hair as more marks get placed on his throat, down to his collarbones. Fingers enter his mouth and he licks them, sucking them until Hob lets out a breathy moan. “I want you,” Hob whispers, a finger flat on his tongue as the other’s trace around his mouth, making his whine.

The fingers leave and Dream misses them already, mouth feeling empty as Hob rests his forehead against his cheek ― and he can only cry out as slick fingers touch his cock, stroking it gently. “Hob,” he keens, stars exploding behind his eyes as Hob strokes him to a hurtling orgasm―

“Hob!” He cries out, snapping to awareness sharply as he wakes up. Slapping a hand around his mouth, he groans at his sticky pants as his heart-rate calms down. Letting out another groan, he curls up and pulls a pillow close, hugging it tightly as he tries to linger in the wet dream.

-

Dream feels he’s going insane, just a bit. Which isn’t helped the meet-up with his siblings tomorrow, Desire texting him every day about his boyfriend― 

And said ‘boyfriend’ being even more reserved than usual. With an added bonus of being angry, that Dream knows more from the way Hob slammed the door shut in the morning, then anything else. 

Even Dream’s resurgence of wet dreams, filled with comforting and rough hands is only enough to keep him from―well, he doesn’t know, but at least the memories are enough to keep him somewhat sane as he comes to terms with the enormity of his feelings towards Hob. Mainly because there’s an absence of Hob’s smile and laughter directed towards him, or the inane things Hob would talk about.

Dream stares at Hob on the other sofa, nose in a book. At least Hob doesn’t seem as angry, though he can’t help the dread he feels at what he’s going to ask. Dread and exhaustion ― over all this. 

“Hob?” He says, taking a deep breath as Hob hums, still reading his history book. “I’m meeting up with sibling’s tomorrow, and―” 

“Can’t make it,” is all Hob replies with, voice short and final. Dream scowls, some of his exhaustion turning into irritation, prickling in his bones. 

“But Desire has been―they’ve been, and having my partner there―” 

Hob finally looks up, a scowl on his face, “but I’m not your partner. I’m―why not just ask any of the other men you’ve been fucking?!” Hob asks, tone acrid at the end, book fluttering as he gestures with his hand. 

“Because they’re not you!” 

The silence is absolute as Dream realises, belatedly, what he said in the moment. Hob’s brows furrow, anger leaving his face as Hob gives him a confused stare. Sighing deeply, Dream covers his face with his hands, too tired to take it back, and apparently wanting to bare his soul. Where it’ll likely be crushed, he’ll deal with those emotions in about a week or so. 

Dream chuckles, and it sounds insane to his ears, “they’re not. I did ― be with other men, just to know, that I’m not,” he frowns, annoyed with the way his words come out in a jumble. Frowning, he considers his next words, “you ruined all those men for me. I kept searching for the way you held me, or the way you kissed, and in the end they never matched up because I wanted―I want. You,” he finishes quietly.

“Me?” Hob asks, the almost-amazement in it making him look up. “You’re not just saying that?” 

“Why would I just say that?” He hisses. “I discovered I’m gay because I enjoyed kissing you so much, then discovered that I have feelings for you which I never realised because I thought I was str―”

 Mercifully, his ramblings are cut-off. By Hob’s lips on his, hands framing his face and Dream lets out a sound of relief as he grabs onto the other’s shoulders. The kiss itself is chaste, but considering how sparsely Hob’s touched him, this is all he needs as they press against each other, Hob gently leading them over to the larger sofa. 

“I have feelings for you too,” Hob says against him, brown eyes soft and affectionate. 

Dream huffs and pulls away, grabbing Hob’s wrists tightly and tugs them down to the sofa. “I thought you said you wouldn’t fall in with me,” he states, confused. 

Hob smiles and gives him a you’re an idiot look, “I’ve been in love with you for ages, long before that,” Hob says, tone much like his expression. 

-

His lips feel bruised and bitten, but pulling away from Hob is ― unthinkable, unfathomable. And Hob is the same, hands on his waist and biting down his throat, skin tingling as he shivers, Hob biting over already-made marks. 

“I missed this,” he whispers, patting the other’s beard. Though, some things are not that familiar, the way he sits on Hob’s lap, and he definitely would’ve missed this if he had it, the solid heat beneath him. “Not just the kissing, but you touching me. You stopped,” he breathes, can hear the whine of it as Hob kisses him, hands going under his shirt. 

“I missed it too,” Hob replies quietly, nails digging into his waist and Dream shivers, pleasure zinging up his spine. “It was just easier not to ― otherwise I’d never let go,” Hob says into his skin, and Dream swallows, nails scratching up his sides, “I’d never stop.” 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads, moving one of his hands to get under Hob’s shirt, feeling the hot skin ― and Dream keens, fingers stretching into the hair on Hob’s belly. He can feel Hob’s moan, can feel him pressing up as they share a spine-tingling kiss. Or maybe that’s the nails trailing up his spine, then back down. “Hob.”

The hand traces the edge of his pants until it reaches the front, making Dream’s dick throb, bringing awareness to how hard he is, “can I?” Hob asks, voice rough and eyes dark as they stare at him. 

Dream spares a moment to think how he’ll survive this, when this already feels like so much, but saying no ― or peeling himself off Hob isn’t an option. “Yes,” he whispers, bracing himself mentally as Hob kisses him again, and he almost bites Hob’s tongue as the hand goes into his pants, fingers trailing up his cock. Dream lets out a startled sound, mind firing at the touch as fingers caress his balls, then make their way to his leaking tip. 

His own furtive imaginings pale in comparison to the explorative way Hob strokes him, wiping his head clean of thoughts as he holds onto Hob’s chest, rough hair under his hand as he gasps into the other’s mouth. Grinding down, he can feel Hob’s cock, hard and ― untouched, which Dream wants to remedy, remembering his other hand as he undoes Hob’s pants somehow, running on instinct and need as he slides his hand to hold Hob’s cock, which is worth it alone for the way Hob’s hand jerks, the way he moans. 

Somehow, they separate enough for Hob’s shirt to disappear, showing heated skin and hair as they stroke each other into a frenzy, and Dream’s teeth ache. Hob’s so warm and responsive, a delightful stream of moaning his name, and Dream keeps staring at Hob’s throat, at his collarbones, the sweat gathering on them from their rutting― 

So he bites down near Hob’s adam’s apple, tasting the tangy sweat, can feel Hob shudder, can feel the startled whine ― and the sudden wetness coating his hand as he sucks a mark into Hob’s throat. “Dream,” Hob breathes, an arm pulling him closer, the hand on his cock pressing into him in ways that make him feel even more senseless, fucking into Hob desperately as his orgasm crashes into him. 

He can feel Hob breathing into his hair as Dream rests his forehead against Hob’s collarbone, brain taking it’s time to be more than the orgasm he just had, can feel Hob stroking his softening cock and he shivers at the feeling, letting out a whimper. 

Letting go of Hob’s cock, he looks down at the come covering it, and then wipes it onto Hob’s jeans. Hob yelps in offense ― then takes out his own hand, wiping it on Dream’s pants. “The nerve,” Hob mutters, and Dream smiles, though it disappears as Hob tenses, arms keeping him trapped against the other man. Blinking, he puts his arms around Hob’s shoulders, pulling up to look at the other’s wary face. Dream just kisses Hob, who goes oh, relaxing into it. 

“Will you,” he frowns, the words sudden, brain still getting itself together. Though, it’s what he was planning to ask anyway, “willl you join me as my actual partner, tomorrow? Entirely optional, the thing tomorrow, I just―” 

Hob’s brows, raised high as he talks ― rambles, again, that’s meant to be Hob’s quirk, though he did also pick up Hob’s quirk of thinking Shakespeare is overrated―until Hob cuts him off with a kiss, fingers stroking his hair. “Magically, I think tomorrow’s been cleared, and would love nothing more than to join my partner,” Hob says, eyes sparkling.

-

Walking on the sidewalk to where they’re meeting his siblings, Dream frowns, “we could always go back home,” he states, and he can feel Hob chuckle, the arm on his shoulders pulling him even closer to his partner. 

“Tempting. But we should probably let the place air out first,” Hob points out reasonably, and Dream pouts. “And I want to pay for your lunch!” 

“Hm,” he says, knowing the place they’re going to is very expensive, so Hob may change his tune once they’re inside. Speaking of, they walk in, his gaggle of siblings sitting at a large table in the centre. Death waves him over, and Hob squeezes him tighter, a kiss placed on the side of his head. Dream can feel his face heat up as they sit down. “Hello.” 

“What’s he doing here?” Desire asks right off the bat, golden eyes narrowed at Hob. 

“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Hob says, cheerful grin obvious in his voice as Dream picks up the menu, Hob’s chair squeaking closer to look at it with him. Dream looks over as Hob pales, noticing the lack of prices on it. 

“Desire is paying today,” he points out quietly, “you can buy me dinner tomorrow,” he offers in compromise, and Hob takes a deep breath, their heads brushing. 

Hob frowns, “fine,” he says, pouting and Dream smiles, oddly charmed that Hob’s so disgruntled by it. 

Desire makes a disgusted sound, making Dream look at his sibling over the menu, “what exactly were you expecting, sibling?” 

They cross their arms and sniff, “another no-show, of course. Or even terrible news,” they say with glee, like a break-up clear in their unsaid words. 

“Wow,” Hob whispers next to him. “Don’t you have better things to do than be obsessed with me?” Hob asks, and many of his siblings crack up laughing as Desire sputters. He’s even chuckling as Hob tugs him into a kiss, soft and pleased, ending with their noses brushing. 

“I’m not obsessed with the likes of you!” Desire hisses, face a bright red. “I’m not! Right, sister?” They say, facing Despair, who just shrugs. “There is ― I’m not!” 

“Alright, enough of this,” Death says between laughter, her stern look quieting the laughs, with Desire grumbling to themself as they hide in the menu, “we should order!” 

[Fin]

[hoondolls]

PAINTER BABY. 박성훈

pairing: f!reader x park sunghoon

notices and warnings: non idol au, fluff, neck kisses established relationship, cursing, slightly suggestive ?, painter!reader , guitarist!sunghoon, someone for the love of god tell me a good word counter website 🙏🙏

Sunghoon’s guitar is fucked again. or maybe he’s the one who’s fucked, but it’s easier to blame the strings than admit he’s been playing too much.

he’s stretched out on y/n’s lap, fingers twisting at the tuning pegs, brows furrowed like this is some great dilemma. it’s not, but sunghoon likes to act like his entire livelihood depends on this. in reality, he just plays at underground gigs with his friends and makes enough for soju and convenience store ramen.

y/n hums, half-listening. her hands are busy mixing paint on an old plastic palette, the kind that still has dried specks of colour from last week. she’s not painting anything serious, just playing with shades, seeing what looks good together. this is what she does when she has the time—paint for no reason, just because it feels nice, there’s a comfortable silence, the kind that only exists when two people have known each other long enough to not fill it. sunghoon’s weight is warm against her thighs, his hair fanning over her hoodie. his guitar lets out a dull pluck as he tests the strings.

“i think my e string’s about to snap,” he mutters, adjusting the tuning peg. he stares at it for a second, like he’s mourning something. then, without warning, he shifts, sitting up and turning to face her properly. “paint something on it.”

y/n looks up, paintbrush still dragging through cerulean blue. “what?”

“my guitar,” he says, tapping the wooden body. “paint something on it. a flower. a little guy. anything.”

she raises a brow. “why?” Inspecting the clearly worn out guitar.

he shrugs, like he hasn’t just admitted to the most sentimental thing ever. “because it’s dying, and i don’t want to think about it.”

y/n blinks. sunghoon meets her gaze like it’s nothing, like he’s not asking her to imprint a piece of herself onto something he loves, something he spends most of his time with. something that’s carried every song he’s ever played.

she exhales, rolling her shoulders. “fine.”

his lips twitch into a smile. he shifts again, resting the guitar across his lap, fingers drumming against the wood. “what are you gonna paint?”

y/n tilts her head, scanning the scratched-up surface. “something sad, since you’re grieving.”

sunghoon groans, letting his head fall back. “you’re the worst.”

she smirks, dipping her brush into white. “you asked.”

he lets her do her thing, watching as she starts with the base—soft petals forming at the edge of the pickguard, curving slightly where the wood is most worn out. her hands are steady, moving with ease like she’s done this a hundred times before. sunghoon feels something tighten in his chest. maybe it’s the reality of his guitar’s last days, or maybe it’s just her, existing in a way that makes things feel less heavy.

he exhales, leaning back on his hands. “i like watching you paint.”

y/n scoffs, but there’s a hint of pink on her ears. “you always say that” she leans back, brush hovering in the air as she takes in her work. the bouquet blooms across the wood, soft pink petals overlapping in clusters, tiny green leaves curling around them. it looks delicate, almost too pretty for sunghoon’s beat-up guitar, but somehow, it fits.

“there, all done.” she smiles, satisfied, but as she shifts, she doesn’t notice the streak of pink smudging across her nose.

sunghoon does.

he tilts his head, grinning. “you’ve got paint all over your face, baby.”

y/n blinks, raising a hand to touch her cheek. “where?”

“everywhere.”

she frowns, trying to wipe it off blindly. it only makes it worse.

sunghoon watches, amused. then, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, he says, “can i lick it off?”

y/n freezes before scowling, her hand drops, eyes snapping to his. “what.”

he blinks at her, all wide-eyed and innocent, like he hasn’t just said the most unhinged thing ever. “what? it’s non-toxic, right?”

she stares. “you’re insane and disgusting .”

he shrugs. “So can I ?.”

y/n groans, shoving at his shoulder. “don’t talk to me.”

sunghoon just laughs, leaning in anyway, eyes flicking to the smudge of paint she still hasn’t wiped off. “fine,” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement. “but you should clean it before i change my mind.”

He didn’t even wait for her to finish wiping the pain then he stared pressing slow kisses just below her jaw.

y/n tenses. “sunghoon—” but he doesn’t stop, trailing soft kisses down the side of her neck, his hands already moving to brace himself on either side of her. her breath catches as he pushes her back, his weight pressing her into the couch.

“You’ll get poisoned I have paint on me—” she starts, but her voice is already faltering, and sunghoon smirks against her skin.

“mm?” he hums, lips grazing her collarbone like he’s not doing anything at all.

y/n swallows hard. “you’re getting paint on yourself.”

sunghoon just laughs, low and warm against her throat. “It’s alright .”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: 5 Times Marshall Thought About Having Another Baby (+1 Time He Brought It Up)

@marshall-is-my-husband and @shady1-daddy I blame you

1. The Time He Saw You Sleeping with Her

Marshall had always been a light sleeper. Years of long nights in the studio, paranoia from fame, and just the way his brain worked made it damn near impossible for him to stay knocked out for too long.

So, when he woke up in the middle of the night and rolled over to see you curled up in bed with your daughter nestled against your chest, he stayed still, just watching.

Your arm was draped protectively around her, your breaths slow and steady. The soft glow of the nightlight made everything look… perfect.

And just like that, the thought hit him.

"What if we had another?"

The idea settled deep in his chest, warm and dangerous.

But he didn’t say anything.

Not yet.

2. The Time You Held a Friend’s Baby (Again)

It was funny—before you had your daughter, Marshall had always caught himself staring when you held a baby. Now, he still did, but for a different reason.

You were at Hailie’s house for a get-together when one of her friends passed you her newborn. You took him easily, adjusting the tiny bundle against your hip, rubbing his back gently.

Marshall had been in the middle of a conversation with Alaina when he glanced over and saw you.

That same feeling from before crept in.

That same what if?

He shook his head, turning back to the conversation.

But the thought didn’t go away.

3. The Time He Found Himself in the Baby Section

He had gone to the store for diapers. That’s it.

But somehow, he ended up in the baby section, staring at tiny onesies and wondering what it would be like to go through it all again.

Would it be a boy this time? Another girl? Would they have your eyes?

Marshall ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

He grabbed the diapers and got the hell out of there before he did something stupid.

Like bring it up to you.

4. The Time He Saw Your Daughter Kiss Your Belly

You had been lying on the couch, half-asleep, when your daughter crawled up beside you.

Marshall had been sitting in the armchair, watching absentmindedly, when she leaned over and placed a tiny, unprompted kiss on your stomach.

His heart stopped.

You cracked one eye open, amused. “What was that for, baby?”

She grinned. “For the baby!”

You laughed, ruffling her hair. “There’s no baby in there, sweet girl.”

Marshall felt the words before he thought them—But what if there was?

Damn it.

5. The Time You Called Yourself ‘Done’

It had been a long day. Your daughter had been fussy, the house was a mess, and you looked absolutely exhausted.

You flopped onto the bed, sighing dramatically. “I don’t know how people have more than one. I’m done.”

Marshall chuckled, lying beside you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turned your head toward him. “You’re not secretly hoping for another, are you?”

He hesitated for half a second too long.

Your eyes narrowed. “Marshall.”

He smirked, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I mean… no. Not secretly.”

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow.

Marshall just laughed.

+1. The Time He Actually Brought It Up

It was late. Your daughter was asleep, the house was quiet, and the two of you were curled up in bed, your head resting against his chest.

Marshall exhaled, running his fingers through your hair. “You ever think about having another?”

You stilled for a second. “Like… seriously?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes. “Do you?”

Marshall hesitated, then nodded. “I mean… I didn’t think I would. But ever since she was born, I just keep thinking about it.”

You searched his face for a long moment. “You really want another baby?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I mean, we make cute kids.”

You laughed softly, but then your expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t know, Marshall. I love being a mom, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go through it all again.”

He nodded, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I get it. And if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

You exhaled, resting your forehead against his. “Can I think about it?”

He kissed you gently. “Take all the time you need, baby.”

And for now, that was enough.

[wrencatte]

“don’t you dare lie. i can see it hurts, so show me.” Calxanyone

thanks for the prompt! 💜

Merrin is waiting for him when he limps back to the cantina. Cal had gone through the side door deliberately to avoid everyone and their earnest, well-meaning questions, but apparently Merrin saw right through him…despite having not seen him for a total of two day cycles. He should feel guilty about that, he obviously worried her – and probably Greez and Mosey and Ashe and Doma and Moran and, and Kata, so many people, so many questions, so many emotions in the Force bearing down on him – but he feels too hollowed out to feel anything but tired. She’s not even scowling, or even disappointed. Just…resigned. And somehow, that’s even worse.

Cal staggers to a stop, opens his mouth to say – something. He doesn’t know what. But Merrin sighs before he can find the words.

“Don’t you dare lie,” she says. He grimaces though it looks more like a flinch. “I can see it hurts, so show me.”

He presses his lips together in a thin line and limps to the bed. He’s going to get blood on the sheets no doubt, but Merrin doesn’t try to steer him away from it. BD-1 chirrups and scurries to his charging station, leaving the two of them alone. Cal sits with a heavy sigh, stretching his leg out to ease the ache in his hip, and unsticks his hand from his side to show off the torn, bloody fabric. The bleeding has mostly stopped.

Mostly.

Merrin gives the position he’s put himself a critical look before she steps closer into his space. He half expects her to start on his side or maybe his shoulder where blood has dried into a mud-rust color. That had been inflicted within the first hour on the first day of his exploration. BD-1 gave him a stim that was just enough, and he kept going. Instead, though, she reaches out unhesitatingly and cradles his face gently with both hands. His eyes sting as she tilts his head back to inspect the bruising and the blood and the shadows under his eyes. She thumbs over the split on his bottom lip, so tender and sorrowful Cal has to swallow the lump in his throat before it become tears.

“Why must you do this to yourself?” she murmurs.

Cal closes his eyes to her expression, unable to answer, unsure if he even wants to answer. The words get stuck in his throat, strangling and choking, and Merrin lets out a soft sigh at his – struggle, his pain, her helplessness maybe. He wants to duck his head, hide away from her with his ears burning in shame, hide away from the world that keeps bringing him tragedy, but her hands stay firm on him, brushing away tears he hadn’t realized were falling.

Merrin urges him closer until he collapses into her, wrapping his arms around her middle and clinging like a child in need of comfort. He buries his face to her stomach, his shoulders shaking as his breaths shudder. She curls over him, holding onto him just as tightly, her face pressed to his hair despite the grime.

I’m sorry, he wants to say even though he knows it’s not enough – and it’s not what she’s looking for. Merrin doesn’t want any of his apologies. She wants him to stop throwing himself towards death and hoping it catches. I’ll do better, is just a lie. I don’t know what to do, is too close to the truth for him to handle.

She pulls away slightly, making him sigh this time, and he looks up at her through wet eyelashes. Merrin smiles slightly as she ghosts her knuckles over his tear-streaked cheeks.

“Let me help you clean up,” she says quietly. “Then come have late meal with Kata and I. Will you do that?” He chews on his bottom lips, tasting fresh blood, until she makes him stop with a knuckle pressed under his lip. “If not for yourself, then for me.”

And that’s the trick to it, isn’t it? Cal nods silently and her smile grows even as her eyes stay sad.

[toasttt11]

ladybugs

July 28, 2019

Mary was sitting at her favorite spot, the back porch swing at her house with her headphones on playing Taylor Swift like she always does and she was fiddling with her cross necklace as Grace sat next to her reading her book.

This was Grace and Mary’s favorite way to spend time together in comfortable silence and doing the things they love. The sisters shared a love for reading so a lot of times they would read the same book and some times Grace would read and Mary would be content to just look out at the backyard.

Grace looked up from her book hearing the deck creak and she saw Ryan standing there with his eyes on Mary as they always are.

Ryan has been friends with them for five years now and Grace knew he was never leaving, he’s become Will and Mary’s best friend over their years and their favorite teammate.

But Grace also knows once day Ryan and Mary would end up together, she has seen how much Ryan and Mary are always blushing around each other and the secret smiles, she’s pretty sure everyone was aware Ryan and Mary liked each other but Will.

Grace loved her brother sometimes but he was stupidly oblivious sometimes.

Grace smiled at Ryan and stood up gesturing to her seat on the bench making Ryan perk up and send her a thankful look as he quickly but gently went over and sat down even closer to Mary than Grace was.

Grace smiled fondly at the two once more before heading inside, Grace knew they were still young only fourteen so she was waiting for the day in the future that they will get together.

Mary looked over as Ryan sat down and she smiled a small smile before turning back to the backyard, she slowly rested her head on his shoulder making Ryan smile even more.

Mary is not huge on physical touch with a people. With her family and the people she is closest to than it’s something she likes and Ryan happens to be one of the few she is closest to outside her family and gets her rare touch here and there.

It always amuses Ryan that he can see Mary cuddling with Will and staying tucked to her brother’s side to complete ignoring a hug from a teammate off the ice. It never fails to make him laugh.

Ryan smiled as he could just hear the sound of Taylor Swift coming from her headphones.

Ryan sat with her for a good while in pure silence and he was surprised Will hasn’t came out and found them yet.

Mary turned her headphones off and lifted her head up and took off her headphones setting them down on the bench next to her.

“Are you excited for school?” Mary asked curiously, Ryan and Will would be heading to their first year of high school in the fall and for the first time Mary would be in a school with out her brother also at the same school.

She has also gotten use to going to school with Ryan so it would be weird to not see them in the hallways or at lunch anymore.

“Kinda.” Ryan shrugged softly as he turned around to look at her as Mary criss crossed her legs and looked at him, “It will be weird without you Ellie Belly.” Ryan told her sincerely.

Mary’s cheeks went a light pink at his kind word and she smiled to herself missing the way Ryan watched her.

“You’ll be okay alone?” Ryan asked worried, He knows that Mary is good at standing up for herself and can be feisty when she needs to be but he hated that she would be alone especially because he knows she isn’t close to anyone at school.

“I’ll be okay.” Mary shrugged softly, she’s gotten use to the fact she won’t have friends her age and her best friend is her brother and her other friend is her brother’s best friend.

She wasn’t like Will she wasn’t good at being loved by everyone, she tends to be on the quieter side and likes observing but everyone thinks she is being rude and she can never make any friends.

“Hold still.” Ryan softy mumbled to her making Mary blink but listen and watch as his hand slowly came to her face and she could feel the goosebumps line her arms as his thumb brushed her cheekbone hair softly.

Mary blinked it was like every book she has read when there was a kissing scene.

“Ladybug.” Ryan softly whispered holding up his hand with a ladybug on his thumb, his face close to Mary’s face and for the first time he could see light freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones, he never knew she had freckles. He was close enough he could all the different shade of blues in her eyes and it made him want to sit here just looking at her and see everyone else he had missed.

Mary blinked distracted by the way she could feel his eyes scanning her face. She wasn’t oblivious to the fact she has had a childhood crush on Ryan since she met him, she just knew he wouldn’t feel the same so what was the point of saying anything when one it could ruin their friendship and his friendship with Will and two she’s young what could they really do right now with her feelings.

But Ryan being so close was making her extremely flustered.

“You should make a wish ladybugs are lucky.” Mary whispered her eye looking at him.

Ryan closed his eyes for a second knowing what he wants and opened them letting the lady bug fly away.

“What did you wish for?” Mary whispered again as Ryan didn’t once lean away and she could just feel the feeling of his breathing with how close he is.

“I’m not supposed to say.” Ryan mumbled back his eyes going back to her beautiful freckles, he can’t believe he never saw them before.

“Please?” Mary pulled out her puppy’s eyes just like Will taught her and it made Ryan melt immediately.

“I want to have my first kiss soon.” Ryan half lied not saying how he wanted the first kiss with Mary but every kiss with her.

“You haven’t kissed anyone?” Mary eyes widened in surprise, she has seen all the girls in her class giggling about Ryan.

“No, i want it to be special.” Ryan wanted it to be with Mary.

“With someone particular?” Mary asked holding her frown back.

Ryan pressed his lips together and gently cupped her face and leaned closer to her glancing at her making sure she was okay with this and very slowly he pressed his lips to her slowly and immediately felt like fireworks were going off.

Mary softly pressed her lips back feeling just like her books always described kissing felt but it was better with Ryan, it was soft, warm, gentle.

Ryan pulled away quickly hearing a creak from the right side making Mary frown as he pulled away so fast and she turned to see Will coming outside towards them, she hadn’t heard Will coming outside.

“Leon! when did you get here?” Will smiled walking over as Ryan stood up and they clapped hands together.

“A little bit ago.” Ryan quickly muttered out cursing Will for interrupting them. He just did one of the things he has been dreaming off and Will came at the wrong time.

“Well i have the new update downloaded.” Will told his best friend making Ryan nod. He looked his seeing his sister grabbing her headphones and quickly starting to walk away, “Mars want to join?” Will called out.

“No thanks.” Mary muttered and rushed inside not wanting to be around anyone right now, not after what happened.

Will frowned confused and didn’t see Ryan’s sad face.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

First Kisses

F/O: Vi (mentions of Caitlyn) | Word Count: 1131 | Warnings/Tags: Drinking/alcohol mention, ask to tag | Masterlist for this ship // woo this fic - technically i could wait until tomorrow to share it but i'm too excited lol :3 anyways the title gives away what this is hehe - hope you enjoy it!! <3

The music is loud enough to make her dizzy, and the bass thumps like a heartbeat, one that reverberates through her whole body. April clutches her drink tightly, occasionally sipping at it. She's stopped wincing at the burn of alcohol down her throat, though it's different from the wine and champagne she's used to.

It's sweet, though, which is really all it has going for it. Plus, the buzz settling into her mind eliminates the ache constantly in her body.

She misses Caitlyn. Badly.

They both do.

It's pervasive. Every time one of them accidentally mentions her, it's like dark clouds have rolled over, drowning the good mood of whatever conversation they'd been having.

Speaking of Vi, she can see her from her spot on the edge of the room. Vi's in the middle of the dancefloor. She moves much like she fights, with a grace one wouldn't expect from someone who thinks with her fists.

It's hypnotizing to watch.

The longer she watches, the more April wants to join her. So she glugs the rest of her drink, not managing to stifle the wince this time as the drink burns down her throat, her mind going a little fuzzier with it. She barely has the mind to set the glass down before she's slipping into the throng of people, her eyes set on Vi.

She instinctively wraps her arms around Vi from behind once she gets close. Vi's body stiffens under her hands, only relaxing when April coos her name into her ear. It's not lost on her the way the taller girl shivers at it as well.

"Sunshine, do you always sneak up on people?" Vi teases, making April giggle. Vi turns around, wrapping her arms around April.

The touch isn't anything new, but it still makes April's heart flutter. They've grown closer these past few months, cuddling nearly every night. Something about Vi makes her nervous, the same kind of nerves she felt when she started dating Caitlyn.

They start dancing together, April following Vi's lead. This is nothing like the galas she's used to, and the dancing's much different. She's had basic ballroom lessons before (so that she wouldn't embarrass Caitlyn), but nothing like this.

As time passes, the alcohol in her system pushes her past tipsy, and she leans more and more on Vi. It doesn't seem to bother her. Her arm tightens around April's waist, nearly lifting her off her feet.

April's hands grip her biceps in response, her eyes raising to Vi's. They pierce through her, almost seeming brighter with the backdrop of black hair, black eyeshadow, black lipstick… Her eyes barely flick down to Vi's lips, and her heart stutters.

Vi's eyes are a little unfocused when hers meet them again, and the pet name that falls from her lips in a questioning tone isn't April's. Vi leans a little closer, causing her pulse to rush in her ears, her eyes instinctively falling shut.

Warmth brushes over her lips. "S-sunshine…" It seems she's realized that it's not Cait. April can't blame her for seeing Cait in the first place -- long dark hair, terrible lighting, plus she's definitely drunker than April is. Hell, April sees shadows of Cait when she gets drunk enough.

Despite the realization, Vi's lips return to hers, kissing her hungrily. April indulges her long enough for the song to change, growing addicted to the taste of Vi on her tongue. Though, she bets it would be better without the alcohol mixed in.

Slowly her senses return to her, and she pulls back, nearly kissing her again when Vi whines. "Vi, you're drunk," She protests. Sure, her head's swimming but she's not at the level Vi is.

"Yeah? And I've wanted to kiss you for weeks…" Vi murmurs, nosing at her ear. If Vi weren't supporting her weight fully, her knees would've weakened.

Her words almost have April giving in. She's wanted to kiss Vi for longer than that, but she kissed her first thinking she was Cait… "No, Vi. If you still want to in the morning, then sure." She closes her eyes the second Vi starts giving her those puppy eyes that should be illegal.

"Ugh, fine…" Vi whines. April doesn't have to look at her to know she's pouting. "Will you still cuddle me when we go back?"

"Sure."

-----

The next morning finds them intertwined again. Vi groans as she wakes up, the light filling the one room they've been staying in making her head pound. She buries her head into April's hair, memories of the previous night slowly returning to her.

Her eyes widen as she remembers the kiss. She hadn't lied that she's wanted to kiss April for weeks (hell, maybe even longer than that), but it's unfair to her that she saw Cait in her for that first kiss.

That's not how she would've wanted their first kiss to go -- all drunken and messy and passionate…

She stays stuck in her thoughts long enough that she feels April stir in her arms. "Vi?" April murmurs sleepily. Those pretty hazel eyes peek up at her, gripping her heart and filling her with the same urge she had last night.

Vi's fingers gently brush along her cheeks, lifting it to face hers. "G'morning, sunshine…" She murmurs. "About last night…"

"I know," April murmurs, her eyes sparkling a little. "You called me cupcake, Vi."

"Shit, I'm sorry…" Vi winces. She can't imagine how April's feeling right now, being mistaken for the one girl they both miss (and yet are frustrated with given the Kiramman banners littering the Undercity once martial law was declared).

"Don't. Just… do you regret it?" April asks, and the way her voice goes small strikes Vi's heart.

"No. I could never regret kissing you, sunshine. Just… you deserved so much better for our first…" Vi murmurs.

"Then kiss me again. Make it up to me."

Vi's eyes widen and a grin spreads across her face. "Gladly."

This time, her lips press softly to April's. Her hand slides to the back of her head, holding her close as she gently kisses April. She gently nips at her bottom lip she pulls away. Damn. April's so pretty when she blushes like that…

"Did that make it up to you?" Vi murmurs, feeling so damn warm as April laughs softly.

"Mm, I dunno… Maybe you'll have to keep kissing me until I decide it's enough."

Vi laughs as well, settling in on top of her. "You drive a hard bargain, sunshine…" Yet she connects their lips again and again and again.

And for a moment, it's like Caitlyn doesn't exist to either of them. All they can focus on are the budding feelings between them and the warmth of each other's lips.

It's perfect.

[wickedpeachie]

Katara tilted her head, watching the way Zuko’s fingers loosened around the handle of the wok, knuckles still tense. She recognized that tension, that weight, she carried it too. The pressure of doing more, of making up for the past, of never feeling like enough, no matter how much you gave. And now, here he was, getting worked up over her skipping a meal. It was almost funny.  “Soooo…. you’re taking personal responsibility for my well-being now?” Her voice came out teasing, light, but there was something else beneath it—something uncertain. She knows he’s right, that more than ever they need to be in fighting shape. Missing meals, sometimes multiple times a day probably wasn’t going to help her. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. Zuko continues, his tone firm. Her nails dig a little rougher into her palms. Despite everything, despite their history, despite the part of her that still doesn’t fully trust him, he did notice. And it mattered to him. That was… unexpected. Maybe even dangerous that it mattered to her.

“If we’re really doing this—taking care of each other or whatever—then it goes both ways.” Her eyes flickered over him, as if already imagining the fresh bruises and burns he’d no doubt collect from training with Aang. “So if you come back from training looking like you got run over by a sky bison, you come to me. No more acting like you can just walk it off.” She raised a brow, daring him to argue. “Deal?” Katara wasn’t sure what was stranger, that she was making a deal like this at all, or that she was making it with Zuko. Of all people. She had spent so long viewing him as the enemy, the villain in their story, the one she had to keep her guard up against. But now, he was the one worrying if she was eating. He was the one offering to look out for her. And she—well, she was doing the same for him. She should have felt ridiculous, uncomfortable even, but instead, there was something almost... steady about it. Something she didn’t quite have the words for yet. Maybe they were still learning how to trust each other, maybe there was still a hesitance there—but if he could stand in the kitchen, cooking for the group like it was second nature, then maybe this, this, wasn’t so strange after all. Did it lessen the ache in her heart when she thought of the Fire Nation? No. Not one bit. It didn’t quell the anger in her, the knife that twisted in her stomach. The only thing it did help was…separate Zuko from them. That it was possible, he could want all the things he’s saying to her now.

She let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the counter as she considered him. The way her name slipped off his lips, drawing a quick zap down her spine. “I know,” she said softly. “And we will.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt. There isn't another choice. If they don't stop his father... Zuko wasn’t the same person who had hunted them across the world. He wasn’t that angry, lost boy anymore. He was someone who fought beside them now. Someone who cared. Someone who, despite everything, might tip the scales in this war. Katara hesitated for only a moment, slipping from the counter as she took the spot next to him again, adding, “But you don’t have to do it alone” She shifted slightly, glancing away as she spoke. She was distracting herself, toying with the bowl in her hands. “You don’t have to fix everything by yourself. That’s why we’re together-” It wasn’t just about Zuko, she realized. It was about her, too. About the way she shouldered burdens without thinking, the way she pushed forward as if the world rested on her alone. She flipped the bowl over again, giving him a slight nudge as she scooped the food into her dish. Katara briefly brushed her fingertips over his knuckles, a quick tap, as she muttered "Thanks, Zuko" Turning again back to the other counter.

Katara kept her back to him, pretending to focus on her food even as an odd weight settled in her chest. It was confusing—more than she wanted to admit, that she could stand here, side by side with him, talking about burdens and responsibility as if they were the same. As if she hadn’t spent so long believing he was just another one of those burdens. But now, here they were, making quiet deals about taking care of each other, slipping into something that felt dangerously close to trust. She curled her fingers tighter around her bowl, grounding herself in the warmth of the food, the simplicity of the moment. It shouldn’t feel this complicated. It shouldn’t leave her feeling so unsteady. “Aang is probably waiting for you,” she tossed over her shoulder, hoping her voice didn’t betray the unease curling at the edges of her thoughts. She didn’t wait for his response, just focused on her food, as if that might be enough to keep the rest of her emotions in check.

her  response  leaves  him  flustering,  the  reminder  somewhat  dulling  the  frustration  building  in  him  to  a  calm  ...  with  a  tinge  of  embarrassment.  his  hand  slows,  dampening  his  sharp  movements  into  something  less  tense.  she'd  been  right,  of  course,  it's  not  completely  unreasonable  for  Katara  not  to  think  to  rely  on  him  in  that  way.  why  would  she?  he'd  betrayed  her  and  he  is  still  groveling  to  earn  back  her  trust.  but  still  ...  would  it  have  been  so  hard  for  her  to  say  something?  wasn't  she  hungry?  wasn't  this  what  she  always  did  --  telling  people  what  they  needed  to  do?  why  was  it  so  different  when  it  comes  to  herself?  the  questions  comes  rushing  in  his  mind  in  waves,  one  after  another  without  pause  he  feels  his  head  is  about  to  explode.

he  debates  what  to  say,  not  wanting  to  say  the  wrong  thing  as  his  heart  twists  when  she  blames  herself  for  not  eating.  he  supposes  she  is  right,  in  a  way  ...  you  are  most  responsible  for  yourself.  however,  that  thought  is  not  enough  to  ease  the  ache  in  his  chest  --  in  a  group  like  this,  where  no  one  should  be  left  behind  ...  it  shouldn't  fall  entirely  on  her  to  make  sure  she  gets  a  meal.

and why  does  it  bother  him  so  much  that  she  doesn't  even  expect  someone,  anyone  to  think  of  her  in  return?

"I  guess  I  can  take  on  the  job of  making  sure  everyone,  including  you  --  gets  enough  food  for  training."  he  tries  to  keep  his  tone  as  casual  as  he  can,  like  its  just  another  responsibility  ...  another  practical  task  divided  among  the  group.  he  continues  to  busy  himself  with  the  food,  letting  his  words  settle  before  he  adds,  "to  master  bending,  you  need  to  take  care  of  yourself.  that  means  eating  enough,  resting  enough  ...  this applies for  everyone,  no  exceptions."  he  explains,  pride  blooming  in  his  chest.  for  once he  feels  like  a  true  fire  bending  master  offering  wisdom,  the  way  Uncle  Iroh  once  did  for  him.

𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨  let  out  a  deep  exhale,  turning  off  the  stove  once  the  food's  done.  he  hears  Katara's  question,  loud  and  clear  ...  but  he  doesn't  answer  right  away  staring  at  the  pan  as  if  the  sizzle  of  the  dying  heat  might  give  him  clarity.  because  honestly?  he  doesn't  know  how  to  answer  without  sounding  foolish, typical ... expected.  he  wants  to  help  Aang  restore  balance  to  the  world  --  he's  sure  of  that.  but  beyond  that,  what  does  he  really  want?  he  wants  to  make  things  right,  he  wants  to  be  better.  he  wants  to  be  the  kind  of  person  his  Uncle  once  believes  he  could  be.  his  fingers  tighten  around  the  handle  of  the  wok  before  he  finally  speaks,  "I  want  to  help  Aang  restore  balance  to  the  world.  I  want  to  make  up  for  what  I've  done.  I  want  to  right  all  my  wrongs."  but  in  his  head,  the  words  continue  ...  remaining  unspoken:  I  want  Uncle  Iroh  back.  he  swallows  hard,  forcing  down  the  ache  in  his  throat  before  adding,  "you  know  what  I  want,  Katara.  I  want  to  stop  my  father."

[pyrodolls]

SUPERFAN! YANDERE BOY X POPSTAR! READER

WARNINGS: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader

A/N: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)

part two here!

superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.

superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.

superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.

superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.

superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.

superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.

superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-

superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.

superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.

[er1nne]

the interview with drew goes viral (cont.) part one

(do not copy or plagarize, original work)

Your phone buzzed incessantly on the coffee table, notifications pouring in like a tidal wave. You had been trying to ignore them, focusing instead on the lukewarm coffee sitting untouched next to your laptop. But every time your gaze strayed to the screen, that unmistakable thumbnail glared back at you: Drew Starkey’s Red Carpet Interview Goes Viral.

You reached for your phone hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip as your thumb hovered over the video. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already seen it—you’d watched it at least five times since it went live just hours ago. And yet, the views were climbing at an almost alarming rate.

1.8M views. 2.3M views. 2.9M views.

Your stomach flipped as you opened the video again. The screen flickered to life, and there you were, standing under the bright lights of the red carpet, microphone in hand, smiling up at Drew Starkey like you’d just won the lottery.

“Drew,” your recorded voice greeted, a bit too bright, a bit too eager. “Welcome. How does it feel to be here tonight?”

The video cut to Drew, his piercing blue eyes and easy smile capturing the camera—and apparently, millions of viewers. “It feels surreal,” he said in his calm, measured tone. “Like stepping into a moment that’s bigger than me.”

Bigger than him? The comment section certainly didn’t think so.

You reluctantly scrolled down, unable to stop yourself from diving into the chaos:

• “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER. HELLO?!” • “Girl, you’re me. I’m you. We’re all the same.” • “Drew Starkey calling this interviewer good at her job and smiling like that??? ” • “Her laugh at the end!! She’s so flustered but trying to keep it together.”

You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Flustered” didn’t even begin to cover it. Watching the interview now, with the clarity of hindsight, made you cringe in the most infuriatingly embarrassing way. You hadn’t just been professional—you’d been fangirling.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your job—you did. Interviewing actors and being part of the glittering world of film was your dream. But there was something about Drew Starkey that had completely unraveled you. Maybe it was the way he spoke, thoughtful and deliberate. Or the way his eyes lingered, like he was seeing past the bright lights and chaos to something more grounded. Or maybe it was the way his hand had brushed against your elbow when he leaned in, sending a shiver down your spine that you still couldn’t quite shake.

You glanced back at the video, biting your lip as the final moments replayed.

“By the way,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, leaning in just slightly, “you’re good at this.”

Your recorded laugh was a little too soft, a little too nervous. “Well, thank you,” you’d replied, the words nearly catching in your throat.

The camera lingered on him as he walked away, and you swore you could see him glance back at you, just for a moment.

You closed the video, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. “It’s just a clip,” you muttered, trying to convince yourself. “People are overreacting.”

But even as you said it, another notification popped up on your laptop, this time from Instagram. You opened the app, scrolling aimlessly through the flurry of tagged posts and stories from the event. And then you saw it.

Drew Starkey had liked the video.

He liked the video.

Your breath caught, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at the tiny heart icon next to his name. He hadn’t commented, hadn’t reached out—but that single like was enough to set your nerves alight.

You picked up your phone again, scrolling back through the comments on the video. People were analyzing everything—your body language, the way you laughed, the way Drew looked at you like you were the only person on that carpet.

• “No, but seriously, he’s into her, right? RIGHT?!” • “I’m not saying they have chemistry, but they have CHEMISTRY.” • “Lord when is it my turn.”

You exhaled sharply, setting your phone down with more force than necessary. Your thoughts raced as you paced the small living room, the memory of Drew’s gaze replaying in your mind like a broken record. Was it all in your head? The playful teasing, the subtle almost-touches, the way his smile had softened just before he walked away?

It was his job to charm people. He did this all the time. And yet…

You couldn’t ignore the warmth in his eyes when he’d said, “You’re good at this,” or the way his hand had lingered just a second too long when it brushed against yours. It hadn’t felt like part of the act—it had felt real.

And now the whole world had noticed, too.

You sat back on the couch, groaning softly as you buried your face in your hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you muttered, though no one was there to answer.

Your phone buzzed again, another wave of comments flooding in. This was going to be a long week.

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story

Orc x fem!reader— cum eating, dry humping, fingering, voyeurism, rough sex, clitoral stimulation

Pt1

“Hey neighbor, I was just talking about you,” your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor says as you walk over to his little group hanging out in his driveway.

His Orc, Naga, and Wolf friends all flash you a knowing smirk, their varying fangs glimmering sends a heat in your belly before you quickly stop yourself. You had to tone your horny ass self down. You didn’t wanna make a bad impression on a new city of people by being desperate for everyone’s cocks. You didn’t think that would fly here. As they stare your cheeks begin to heat up in a way you know is noticeable.

“Mentioned how I wanted to bring over a cup of coffee I made you,” he adds as if sensing your thoughts and trying to reassure you.

So he wasn’t going around talking about you to all his friends? Something tells you that’s not exactly true as his eyes gleam with arousal. You imagine it as you take the cup of coffee from his hands. Your hot neighbor sitting around with his equally hot friends, going over every little dirty detail. Raving about how good your tight cunt felt around his thick cock. All of them growing hard as he recounted the noises you made and how desperate you were to be filled while imagining it was them with you instead.

A choked whimper escapes you that you quickly try and hide beneath a pleased hum. You try your best to look casual as you subtly rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. But you’re briefly brought back to reality as your hot neighbor hands you the mug of coffee.

“Thank you for this, but—“ you say as you bring the mug to your lips only for your neighbor to brush a clawed finger along the edge of the cup and tilt it up, forcing you to take long gulps of the nicely warm drink. You meet his burning gaze, unable to look away, the tension simmering between you. And in front of all his friends. Fuck you can feel how wet you’re getting.

When he finally removes his finger you lower the cup with only a bit less than half left. Your mouth smacks as the taste bursts across your tongue. It was bitter as you expected coffee to be but also a bit sweet and… salty? It was certainly creamier than you expected it to be. You liked it. Probably more than you liked whatever blend you usually get. You’ll have to ask what his special ingredient is later.

“Thank you again but I was wondering if you guys could give me a ride? I’m in a really tough spot and I just need someone to get me going,” you say, voice strangely huskier than normal.

You clear your throat, glancing away, and look back up to all four of these damn fine men staring down at you as if they’re about to pounce. Your pussy flutters, clamping down around nothing at the thought of them actually doing just that. Their claws digging into your plush form, fangs grazing your sensitive skin, their big tongues ravaging your body to prepare you for their giant cocks.

“Work that is,” you add, voice growing husky all over again.

Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor chuckles darkly, the sound shooting right down to your core. He glances at his friends and a silent conversation passes between them. Then all of them are moving toward the car as if suddenly eager to get in.

“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re headed to work ourselves but we’ll get you off. Who are we to deny someone as cute as you?” He says smoothly, his raspy voice making that sound much more suggestive than you think he meant to.

Your hot neighbor rounds the car, taking the drivers seat. While his Wolf Hybrid friend quickly takes passenger. As if he didn’t want you getting to it first.

“You’ll have to ride in my lap though,” His Orc friend immediately says with a smirk as he hops in the backseat of the car. You follow after him, not wanting anymore seats taken from you.

“And why would I do that?” You ask, not wanting him to know how much you like the idea.

Just as you’re about to sit in the middle seat instead, the Orc’s giant hands are gripping your waist and plopping you down in his lap. Before you can argue or pretend to complain, the Naga gets in last and he curls half his long rattling tail into the middle seat while the rest takes up the remaining one.

“There’sss no more room,” the Naga says, forked tongue slipping out as he speaks and a second later his eyes dilate.

You blush, knowing he can probably taste your arousal in the air. In fact, they all probably can. The realization has you blushing deeper and growing wetter on the hot Orc. Especially as the Orc tugs you closer to his chest and you can feel the distinct bulge of his half-erect cock pressing deliciously along your clothed slit.

Hot neighbor starts on his way and you share your new place of work with them. They’ll know exactly where you are now nearly every day. It sends a strange thrill through you. Wolf Hybrid neighbor tells you that it’s on the way to their place so they’ll drop you off first but that it might take a little longer. They usually like to down the back roads.

You find that you don’t mind as you’re a lot more than just comfortable sitting in the hot Orc’s lap. That is until they actually start driving down the back roads and their… bumpy terrain.

A small grunt escapes you, eyes widening as the car starts rocking. Each jolt of the car has the Orc’s hardening length rubbing right up against your pussy. Your throat tightens as you try and choke down your moans. The Orc feels huge and he’s rubbing over every inch of your cunt. You swear you feel him rocking in sync with the rock. But what would be crazy.

Small talk fills the car and you’re grateful no one seems to be able to notice your inner torment. Small whines leave you as you practically bounce on the Orc’s clothed dick. It sends shocks through your system and you quickly grow more and more needy. The need to be filled and stuffed full itching at your skin.

“I think you’re wet enough f’me now, sweetheart. My patience grows thin. Fuckin’ need to get inside ya,” the Orc says, breaking you out of your lustful daze. It’s only then you register his panting breaths and the way everyone’s eyes shift toward you in the car.

“W-what?”

You yelp as the Orc jerks off your slacks and panties in one swift move and hooks your legs over each of his knees, spreading you wide for the whole car to see. Your glistening folds spasm as they’re exposed to the cold air.

Thoughts run through your head at a mile a minute. You should want to stop this. To scramble off this sexy Orc’s lap. But you only get more turned on, your arousal gushing out of you at the thought of him so suddenly taking you.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been wantin’ to fuck me since your fine ass walked over. That’s how this place works, right?” The Orc asks, almost mockingly.

His words wash over you, clouding your mind, as his hands explore your body. Slightly clawed fingers trail down and dip into your soaked folds. A low moan leaves you and instead of trying to get away you melt back into his chest, hips rolling with the movement of his fingers. He takes the time to prep you for his length and it slowly has you becoming an absolute mess in his lap. And you haven’t even had his cock yet.

You suck in a sharp breath as the hot Orc’s fingers leave you only to replace them with his thick angry tip. His pre-cum creating an even bigger mess of you. Your mind threatens to gain clarity again but then the Orc is pushing you down and splitting you open on his cock.

“Nngh! Ooh… Oh fuck,” you cry out, throwing your head back. The stretch of his girth forcing your gummy walls to accommodate him has your eyes rolling back. The deeper he goes the more you swear you’ve never been filled this good in your life.

The fact that you’re in a car full of men shifts back to the front of your mind and you lift your head to see them all still watching you with a fierce intensity.

Your hot neighbor continues to drive but you notice the way his eyes keep flicking back to you in the mirror. While his Wolf Hybrid and Naga friends each have all their cocks out, languidly stroking them to the sight of you stretched pretty on their friend’s cock. You whimper, basking in the attention, and a second later the Orc starts slamming you down on his massive cock.

“Fuck, dude, you were right. What a perfect pussy. They’re drenched f’me, just slipped right in. So warm and tight. Poor thing won’t get a moments rest in this place,” the Orc huffs and the car erupts into soft breathless laughter.

Aha! You knew your hot neighbor had talked about you with them. The praise is all you focus on and it has your walls squeezing the Orc’s length, wanting to make him go mad. A low growl vibrates from his chest to your back as he feels you get even tighter. His claws sink into your hips as he starts using his grip to fuck his cock up into you at a bruising pace. His thrusts syncing up perfectly with the rocky jostling of the car that only seems to be getting worse.

You cry out as the car’s movements also deepens the Orc’s momentum. You swear you can feel his dick all the way up in your throat. He’s stuffing you so full of him you don’t know if you can take it. You arch back into the Orc, putting on a show for him and everyone in the car. Through hooded eyes you watch as they furiously pump themselves to the sight of your body. It gets you so fucking hot. Their lustful eyes raking over your form. All of them wanting a piece of you, all of them jealous of the one who gets to fuck you.

The Naga flicks out his tail, the rattle on its tip moves in between your legs, wanting to do anything he can to give you more pleasure. You wait with bated breath and shriek as he rattles his tail, the vibration sending sparks throughout your body. The Orc snarls in your ear and picks up pace, jerking up his hips and meeting your thrusts in a way that has your toes curling.

“How do they look?” Your hot neighbor growls, knuckles white on the steering wheel, and sounding borderline feral. His cock aching against his slacks.

“They look so fucking sexy, man. Their tight pussy can barely take him,” His Wolf Hybrid friend moans, his hips twitching as he jerks himself off even harder.

“But they’re doing ssso well. Pretty thing will be ruined for anyone else,” the Naga adds, roughly rattling his tail against your clit. He thrusts up into each of his hands that pump at both of his dicks. You mewl, vision blurring at the intensity that wracks through you.

“Fuck, I think they’re about to cum!” One of them shouts but you’re too lost in the haze of pleasure to focus on which one it is. But then the Orc’s hot breath is curling around your ear and your mind clears enough to hear his rumbling voice.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuckin’ let go and cum on my cock. Squeeze the damn life out of me, you can do it.”

The cord snaps and jaw drops, fierce screams echo throughout the car as you explode all over his cock. Waves of ecstasy wash over you and you try your best not to pass out. The sight of you coming is a vision of pure art and none of the other men can hold on much longer.

The Naga lets go first, shooting his cum over any inch of bare skin he can reach. The Wolf Hybrid is close to follow in his friend’s footsteps as he cums all over you two. Seeing you all wrecked and messy quickly has the Orc slamming into you, burying himself to the hilt and shooting spurt after spurt of his cum deep inside you.

“Such a pretty slut you are, sweetheart. So easily made a mess from our cocks. You’re perfect,” the Orc rasps in your ear and you preen under his praise.

The rest of the car ride is spent with the monsters cleaning you up as you lay limply in the Orc’s lap. You take the time to regain your strength and you hope you’ll be able to feel your legs enough to walk into work.

When you arrive your hot neighbor gets out and greets you as the door opens. He helps you out and you immediately melt into his embrace. Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor laughs, leaning down and kissing the crown of your head.

“Next time, darling. Now get into work,” he murmurs intimately in your ear. Giving your butt a nudging pat.

As you walk in on wobbly legs, you glance around the lobby, looking for the headhunter that recruited you. He was meant to meet you and show you the ropes of the job. But he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you wonder what you’ll do next. You could ask the Demon Guard by the door where you could find him, head down the closest hall and hope you find the headhunter down one of the rooms, or you could head to your Minotaur Boss’ office and hope he can show you around.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

[brairslair]

just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)

a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah

“of course i’m serious”

luffy:

in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew

at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy

however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew

after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice

he seems to have that effect on people

while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different

within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life

the two of you never have a dull moment together

while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded

and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break

eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time

you balance each other out perfectly

the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company

definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience

you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off

over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more

you notice the shift far before luffy does

luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh

he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off

probably assumes he’s just hungry…

in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything

you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now

the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable

(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)

he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy

he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings

to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff

nothing is awkward when you start dating

it just feels right

he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating

now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling

sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you

definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself

he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together

he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh

he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him

will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute

he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you

he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you

you definitely have to teach him a lot

like what you’d like to do on dates

and how to kiss

luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try

after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough

definitely understands now

a super messy kisser (ofc)

gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses

he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you

you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you

sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown

he didn’t realize it would be so fun

it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires

he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything

kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it

never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident

loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around

he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything

even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock

other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends

the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company

luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him

he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach

you are each other’s safe space

the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday

saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now

will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself

if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard

the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like

“hey, do you wanna get married?”

probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!

obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out

the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them

after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit

not much changes in your relationship other than your titles

he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something

but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever

zoro:

when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying

the two of you clash almost immediately

after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse

the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons

nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you

for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other

however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks

his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty

it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place

over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it

you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”

or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time

eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship

the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while

but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes

and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence

and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear

he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him

without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship

whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way

the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you

neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp

when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have

but you don’t need to

your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will

your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer

running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc

eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers

you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered

your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter

as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home

there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are

like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates

robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep

eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder

zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands

still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship

he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking

like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room

he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you

the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see

however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone

it’s much more domestic

quieter

you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words

the silence is soothing

other times, the two of you can talk for hours

he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to

and he’ll hang onto every word

he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private

he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session

or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair

he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas

he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly

sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you

either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action

his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you

in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate

neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably

you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart

when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle

zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook

he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at

the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other

if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you

but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)

“why don’t we get married then?”

“are you serious?”

“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”

the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning

the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers

sanji:

as we all know, sanji is a lover of women

he’s also a hopeless romantic

from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels

he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life

while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first

you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?

and it first, it’s really not that much different

he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation

but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more

you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond

you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes

you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free

sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you

like for real

the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before

but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way

he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on

you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic

you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it

he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently

compliments you up and down, every word sincere

he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking

never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you

sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women

however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure

he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible

he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom

gentle and passionate

sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic

he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you

he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist

after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew

sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops

he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot

loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at

loves hugs and cuddles obviously

always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman

also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all

still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day

your relationship is very flirty in general

he can dish it out way better than he can take it

he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine

even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right

the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next

sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating

and he means it 100% too

he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings

sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day

as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you

he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere

and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry

he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter

oops!

the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything

sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding

his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw

cries when he sees you walking down the aisle

he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time

usopp:

you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew

you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories

he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime

and of course you help him craft his weapons

the two of you are basically inseperable

you do absolutely everything together

you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them

you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on

you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make

you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes

but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests

you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other

everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all

the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”

he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory

you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows

completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you

nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less

the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved

he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous

you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess

most of the time you do it by accident

he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him

you take your relationship fairly slow

he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand

he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you

the first time you kissed him he almost passed out

he cannot believe you actually want to be with him

once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time

your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips

his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft

the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so

usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace

when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn

talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead

loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend

he’s just so proud to be with you

literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever

you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that

you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what

if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy

because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise

not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before

it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal

takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand

gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes

you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife

chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl

brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories

no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old

law:

you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation

you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life

you owed you’re life to him

so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary

you stayed anyways of course

your relationship started out strictly professional

he was the captain, and you were the crewmate

you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it

over time, you grew closer

you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company

eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking

you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought

after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated

you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves

you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all

he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish

they don’t vanish

instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you

meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably

the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew

you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid

eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you

his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words

your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months

if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss

he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner

gets really affectionate when he’s tired

he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best

law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing

he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp

sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood

loves having his hands all over you whenever he can

also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly

doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you

he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that

instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear

when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it

he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets

while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things

you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast

and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew

your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife

he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy

if you want to get married, that’s what will happen

the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should

there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you

after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches

it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out

he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you

ace:

very flirty with you from the very beginning

compliments you all the time

thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it

the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”

pisses everyone else off

you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern

so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you

the solution? set you up, obviously

some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together

setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone

pairing you up on chores and tasks

they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour

it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack

ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever

he fell first, you fell harder type shit

huge dork

can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way

but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary

never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day

loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!

literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together

very touchy and just wants to be close to you

despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world

extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much

50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet

he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry

very experienced, and it shows in everything he does

he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you

slutty waist 🗣️🗣️

king of the knee thing

loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours

also pretty open about pda

he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either

your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication

definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile

if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal

he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you

would pick the PRETTIEST ring

he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second

as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes

would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice

possibly making a bet to see who catches on first

once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time

asks are open!

[rensukepie]

𐚁๋࣭⭑ “you say it’s big, but you take it.” ┈─★ n. s

contains : virginity loss, big d!ck nagi :3, size difference, slight tummy bulge, praise, he’s talking you through it A LOTTT, nagi teaches reader how to give a blowjob ^___^!, pussay eating, established relationship, nagi jerking off to you ^3^, pull out, this one’s a little longer than my other works!!, aftercare, dumbification(?), kinda possessive nagi if you squint

you’re scared of losing your virginity, you really are. that is, until you ask nagi to take it from you.

character is aged up!

mdni!!!!! (minors do NOT interact)

a/n : ty @kittenish0 for requesting some nagi smut! happy new years to you as well! i’ve wanted to write him for a while now :3

nsfw under the cut

he was surprised to find out you were a virgin early on in the relationship.

“how could someone so pretty like her be a virgin?” he thought to himself frequently. you were so, so pretty to him.

you were glad that he wasn’t pushing you to have sex like the other people before. he’s so gentle, so patient with you. you wonder how someone like him can handle someone like you—behavior wise.

every time you two kiss, you always have to pull away before it gets too heated. you’re scared of having sex, you really, really are, but you’ve always considered nagi to be the one to take your virginity away from you.

“m’sorry sei…. not ready yet…” you say, face buried into his shoulder along with your arms hung around them.

“it’s okay baby… when you’re ready, you’re ready, right? doesn’t have to be immediately…” he reassures, kissing your cheek.

…. ┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

it got him so, so fucking hard when you told him that you’re a virgin. the thoughts rushing to his head on how he can teach you how to take his dick, the pretty sounds you’d make, the possible bulge his cock can (will) show in your stomach, everything is rushing to his head.

so after that little restaurant date between the two of you, he goes back home to his apartment and jerks his cock off to every single thought about you, pretending his fist is your pretty, wet cunt taking all of him.

“fffuck— baby… gonna make me cum.. so tight…”

…. ┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

it’s been a couple of months since the two of you got together. you’ve done so many things together and your friends and his friends combined both think you two are cute together.

you figured it was about time to have sex at this point, so you decide to make your move tonight, but how? you’ve never done something like this before, nor ever felt this way for someone ever.

“you ready for our movie night date? :x”

“mhm! coming over right now sei!”

“can’t wait to see you angel, really missed you”

for some reason, that text he sent made your face so red and flushed! anticipation, maybe?

…. ┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

you’re currently on his bed, blanket on both of your laps, head on his shoulder as you two watch the movie you both agreed on.

“sei… can i tell you something?”

“hm? go ahead.” he says, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

“i wanna try it…. want you to be my first time sei…i’ve been thinking about it all week…” you say while grabbing his arm, face flushed in a shade of red.

“are you sure, baby? this is so sudden… don’t wanna hurt you or anything..”

“im sure sei… think m’ready…” you say in that sweet, sweet tone you always have, the one that he hears every time you speak to him.

…┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

“gonna take it slow for you, ‘kay?” he whispers in your ear, his body hovering over yours on the bed with his knee in between your thigh before kissing your soft, pretty lips, your arms over his shoulders with his hands at your waist.

“s—seishiro…. mm…” you whimper into the kiss as he brushes his knee slightly against your clothed cunt.

“hm? feels good?” he teases, breaking the kiss to start kissing all over your neck and down.

you love the way his lips feel on your body. the way he asks you if it feels good—it’s all too much! and he knows that it’s too much for you with the way your already whimpering on the fact that he’s getting closer to your pretty pussy.

“you’re so pretty… can kiss your body forever, angel.” he murmurs, placing kisses on your inner thighs before he places a kiss right on your cunt that’s still clothed in a pair of lacy panties. “fuck—these are so cute on you, baby…”

he plays with your sensitive bud with his fingers through the wet—soiled fabric, but not for long before he’s asking to take off your panties.

“gonna take these off of you now, that okay with you, pretty?”

“mhm… go ahead sei… please…” you plead desperately to the point where it’s almost embarrassing.

“mm— that’s a good girl..” he says as he takes off your panties slowly, kissing your pussy once more before licking the slit with his skilled tongue along with sucking your sensitive bud. “does it feel good, hm?”

“seishiro—! mmf… fffuckk—!” you moan at the new feeling, gripping at his soft white hair. if you knew it felt so good, you would’ve told him to do this sooner!

you swear that he’s humming into your cunt on purpose to make you squirm around him! he’s moaning saying how good you taste and fuck— it’s having an effect on you. you can feel that your about to cum despite the fact that you don’t even know how it feels to do so.

“s—sei… i think m’gonna cum soon… haah…—“

“yeah? you feel it, angel? cum for me… you’re doing so well.”

you swear that you could see literal stars as your orgasm washed over you. little whimpers of “m’cumming sei… mmf…!” coming out of your mouth.

“mm.. thats it, sweet girl… feel good?”

…┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

“gonna teach you how to suck my dick now, yeah?” he whispers, kissing your neck before he takes off his sweatpants and boxers, his rock hard cock on display for you.

he knows that his cock isn’t the average size. it’s thick with pre all over his pink tip and it has a little prominent vein and holy shit—it’s making you so wet!

“seishiro… it’s s’big… don’t think i can take all of it…” you say, looking at it with big, curious eyes.

“s’okay baby… don’t need to take all of it..” he says, thumb rubbing your face.

…┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

“focus on the tip… ‘s sensitive there…” he says, your lips and tongue on his tip tasting his pre. “ahh—shit…! you’re doing so well, angel. so good f’me…” he moans, his hand on your head. “you think you can take a bit more of me, hm? just a little more down?”

“m—mhm… i wanna try it… want to make you feel good too, sei..”

fuck.

it takes everything in him to not plow his big cock into your insides and completely ruin you. but of course, he holds back, it is your first time after all. he doesn’t wanna ruin his pretty girl juuust yet!

“mmf… you’re such a sweet girl, so perfect..” he smiles, thumb rubbing your face once more.

…┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

“spit on your palm f’me… that way, you can move your fist up and down for the part that you can’t take, ‘kay?”

you spit onto your palm, globs of it falling down. you begin to suck him once more, taking more of his cock into your mouth this time.

he doesn’t expect you to take all of him into his mouth, especially since it’s your first time, but again, it really, really takes everything inside of him to not grip your hair and bob your head up and down on his cock.

you’re doing a lot more then he expected from a virgin. you’ve taken a good amount of him inside of your mouth, using your spit covered fist to jerk off the rest of his cock that couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“fuck—are you sure you’re a virgin, baby? you’re so good at this…haah—such a fast learner, aren’t you?” whimpers coming out of his mouth, the familiar feeling of cumming soon rushing over his body.

“gonna cum soon, angel… ohh shitt—… take it baby, take all of my cum in your mouth… that’s it…”

…┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

“tell me when you’re ready, okay? gonna take it nice and slow f’you, sweet girl.” he responds, looking at you from underneath, his cock in his hand.

“m—mhm… think m’ready now… you got me so wet sei…”

“she’s so cute when she gets like this…” he thinks, moving his cock back and forth on your folds and slapping his cock onto your clit, teasing you so that he can hear your pretty, soft moans.

“mmf—! stop teasing me seishiro… please…” you pout for a little bit, finally feeling his cock stretch you out for the first time. it burns, but the feeling begins to turn into pleasure.

“fuck, you feel so good, baby…” he murmurs into your neck, thrusting his big cock inside of you slowly. “you alright? does it feel good, hm? want your first time to be perfect..”

“ahh..! s—sei! you’re too big—haah… can feel your cock in my stomach…” you whimper, pulling his hand to the bulge in your stomach that shows each time he thrusts deep inside. “feels sooo good, baby… love your cock so much… mmf—!”

“yeah? you like it, huh? only my cock can make you like this, sweet girl…” he knows you’ve gone dumb on his cock already! only babbling words out of your mouth from what you can hear from your knowledge.

“m—mhm you’re the only one seishiro….gonna cum again soon…” you start rubbing your clit with your fingers, your cunt squeezing itself on his cock as you get closer to the edge.

“mm!— m’cumming again sei…! gonna cum… ahh—!”

right before he’s about to cum, he pulls his cock out of your warm cunt, jerking it off infront of you as his cum goes right onto your stomach.

…┈─★ 𐚁๋࣭

he gets you a fresh pair of his clean clothes after your shower together, leaving a kiss on your cheek when he sees you on the bed.

“you okay, love?” he asks with a gentle tone, water droplets falling from his hair since you both had just gotten out of the shower.

“mhm… it felt really good, sei… thank you… wanna do it again soon…” you giggle softly, holding him tighter into your hug.

“don’t thank me, baby… wanted your first time to be as perfect as possible.” he says, kissing you once more before you both drift off to sleep.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."