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darktrashsoulbear · 3 months ago

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Cold Nights, Cosy Hearts

Modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend!reader

Based on this request made by Hannah @gwaynesprincess

Summary: After an unexpected interruption to their cosy night in, Aemond and reader try to find a way to somehow salvage the night and spend some quality time together.

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings: Smut, minors do not interact

Word Count: 3350

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

The sound of his ringtone interrupted Aemond’s reading of Arnold J. Tonybee’s ‘A Study of History’. With a grin he looked down at his phone hoping it was his angel. The grin soon soured as he declined the call, eyes rolling to the back of his skull - Aegon. Averting his attention back to his book he continued, the serene silence making for the perfect autumn, late afternoon atmosphere to catch up on his reading as he waits for his angel to come home.

Aemond learnt from a young age that his elder brother had a penchant for ruining perfect moments, he was a fool to think this time was an exception. He hastened to the front of the flat not wanting the neighbours to believe there was an attempted break in occurring at the sheer volume of the banging at the door. Swinging open the door sporting a glare that could freeze the sun, Aemond grasped the arm of the nuisance and dragged him inside before quickly slamming it shut again.

Said nuisance, unphased by his anger, jumped onto the sofa in order to lay down - ignorant to his shoes rubbing all over the fabric. Momentarily unsure of how to react to the scene before him, Aemond stilled before snapping back to reality and ripping Aegon’s legs off of the sofa, almost throwing him to the floor.

“Oi, what was that for!”

“Get out Aegon!” Aemond snapped not bothering to dignify his question with a response

“Must I remind you that it was YOU who just yanked me through the door, weirdo!” Aegon fired back, his amusement clear

“Why are you here?” The younger demanded

“I had no other choice with you dodging my calls!” Aegon continued, “what if it was urgent?”

“Is it?” he questioned, defeatedly leaning against the wall adjacent to the sofa

The hesitation that followed told Aemond all he needed to know as he, once again, began ushering his brother out, telling him he’s busy. Stubbornly Aegon refused clinging onto the backrest of the sofa as though his life depended and at this point, it very well could have. As the brother’s struggled they found themselves on the floor, forgetting the actual task at hand and just exchanging brotherly blows trying to get the advantage.

The scene you walked in on was one you wouldn’t forget. On the carpet before you was Aemond half kneeling on the floor with Aegon wrapped around the one not touching the floor, like a koala - seemingly in a struggle as you watched one of Aemond’s hands go from trying to pry him off to his hair and yank. At this you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore as, body curling in as the sound of your cackles rang out.

This caused Aemond to lose focus, letting go of Aegon’s strands, as his head snapped back towards you. Just as he opened his mouth and went to say something, Aegon used his distraction to his advantage and rose up, arms still wrapped around Aemond’s leg using it to shove him onto his back and triumphantly sat on both his legs, pinning them down and casually waving at her.

“If you boys are busy then I can text Helaena, see if she wants to meet up or something,” you suggested, half genuinely wanting to give them space and half desperately not wanting to be forced to babysit the two brothers.

“That would be grea…” Aegon began but was cut off by Aemond yet again burying a hand in his hair in order to free himself.

“No!” he interjected, “we promised we’d spend the evening with each other, I’ve got the movies rented and menus ready to order a takeaway. Just give me a sec to get rid of him and we can start baby.”

Aegon finally freeing himself again began “I may have a thing for hair pulling but certainly not with you little brother, with your girlfriend on the other hand…” he trailed off, shooting you a wink, “and now there’s no way you’re getting rid of me, movies and a takeaway? Count me in!” he moved back over to sit in the middle of the sofa tapping the spots on either side of him with his hands.

Aemond chose to ignore him entirely and walked over to his angel, grasping your hands and telling you to go “relax, get into something comfortable and decide what we should watch first” while he dealt with the 5”9’ problem in the flat. However, before you could even take a step in the direction of their bedroom, you were interrupted by a loud declaration from the man on the sofa.

“I do agree you should get changed doll, but into something to go out in. The three of us are going to go meet some people at the pub, maybe go out after”

Judging by the vein protruding from the side of her boyfriend’s neck, you knew now was the time to step in. Nodding to Aegon, you grasped Aemond’s hand, interlocked your fingers and led him to their bedroom, ensuring the door was locked behind them. You guided him to take a seat on the bed as she stood before him, bringing his head against her stomach, running one hand through his hair and the other massaging circles between his shoulder blades.

After a few minutes of silence, Aemond mumbled something about how Aegon must have a compulsion of ruining everything. His angel only softly chuckled as you continued soothing him.

“Would it be so bad if we indulged him and just went along?” You began before he moved his head away and looked up as if you’d sprouted another head, taking a seat next to him you quickly added on, “Let’s say we do go, what would really happen? We have a drink or two with him, then he gets distracted by a pretty girl and leaves us alone, we have a couple of drinks and chat, then we come back here and watch movies and get a takeaway like we planned.”

After a moment of thought, the corner of Aemond’s lips quirked up and he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in to press a few kisses on the top of her head. “A fine plan, my angel, a fine plan indeed.”

Preening at the praise you added “and besides we could use this as an excuse to get out of future plans we want no part of, ‘what do you mean we never go out with you Aegon? Do you not remember last time when we cancelled our date night just to join you, only for you to ditch us for a girl?’ We’d have a solid argument baby.”

At this Aemond let out a genuine laugh, pulling you up to her feet before wrapping his arms around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your lips, trailing his hands further down, copping a feel before letting her go to allow the two of them to get ready for the night.

One would think that after acquiescing to his wishes, Aegon would become more manageable. That would incorrect, instead he was bounding down the street as free as a child half his age. Aemond and his angel trailed behind him, huddling closer together for warmth. His left and your right were in the pockets of your own coats while the others were intertwined and shoved into Aemond’s other pocket.

Reaching the too lively pub, Aemond tugged you inside, eyes frantically scanning the place for an available seat. Aegon, of course, made a beeline for the bar and was frantically waving back at them to join him. Smirking, his angel pulled him over towards him and he reluctantly trailed behind.

“See guys, isn’t this so fun? Seriously Aem I don’t know how you managed to bag a girl like her, what with the giant stick permanently lodged up your -” Aegon was cut off by you sliding close to the rogue.

“Don’t look now Aegon but that girl over there, on the other side of the bar, she’s staring at you. Like really really into it,” and Aegon of course immediately whipped around, eyes zeroing in on the girl whose eyes were flicking over with mild interest - but he didn’t need to know that.

“Well then, my lady, weirdo, I’d best not deprive her of the best night of her life for much longer! I’ll catch you guys in a second, just stay close.” Aegon instructed, walking backwards towards the girl in the hot pink dress.

With that the couple were left alone and Aemond’s relief was evident. As Aemond got the attention of one of the bar staff, you turned to find somewhere a lot more discreet to sit. Spotting somewhere in the back you grabbed the drinks as he paid and the two of you made your way over to a small table near the back.

Taking a seat on the small stools you set the drinks down and Aemond turned to you giving you a small smile and retaking your hand, palm up, tracing the lines on it. Abruptly looking up a final time his eyes darted back over the where Aegon was, relieved to see he was still by the markedly more interested looking girl.

Turning back to your eyes he felt an overwhelming sense of adoration flow through him, reaching out he tucked a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear as you bit your lip looking up at him with a gaze that made him dearly regret ever entertaining the idea of leaving their bedroom.

Just as he cupped your face with one hand, the other tugging your chin up and closer, and began leaning in, he heard a dull thud on the opposite side of their table top. Looking across you saw a man at least in his early 40s, wearing a worn suit slump into the stool opposite you - eagerly grabbing and downing half his pint of Guinness.

Slowly he lifted his gaze to the two of you and looked at you as though you were the inconveniences. Which apparently was the final straw for Aemond as he gave him the deepest scowl you’d ever seen. This caused one of the most amusing exchanges of words you’d ever seen your boyfriend involved in…

“Don’t know why you’re giving me that look boy, you don't own the table you know,” the man began.

“Look mate, I meant no harm, me and my girl were just wanting-” Aemond began feeling less than civil.

“Oh boy you couldn’t harm a fly even if you did mean it,” the man scoffed, flicking his hand dismissively.

You could see the way Aemond’s hand tightened into a fist and his jaw clenched. Knowing you had to do something to de-escalate the situation you opened your mouth to address him.

“Don’t you even think about putting your two-pence missy, this is between me and the lad,” the balding man interjected.

At this your eyes widened, eyebrows slightly lifted momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of the man that came and sat at your table. Aemond angled his head towards you, his gaze sending a clear message ‘just say the word and I’ll deal with it’. But before he was given the chance your pint of Stella Artois somehow made its way all over the man’s front.

At his shocked gasp, you and Aemond looked at each other and the message was clear. Run. Darting out of the pub, hand in hand, Aemond leading the way. The seven o’clock evening chill in the night was biting compared to the heat in the pub and caused you to shiver as you realised you left your coat inside near the bar.

Realising this Aemond offered to go back and fetch it but not wanting to risk getting barred from the pub, you shook your head reassuring him that you’d be fine for the walk home. Turning to begin the walk, another shiver coursed through you as you attempted to huddle further into your knitted dress, thankful you had the forethought to wear plain black leggings instead of tights.

Observing, Aemond tugged on your wrist causing you to swivel back as he draped his own coat around your shoulder, helping you slide you arms in. You tried to refuse, insisting he kept it for himself, but vehemently denied you stating that Targaryen’s have warmer blood - thanks to their royal lineage from centuries ago, blood of the dragon apparently.

Finally acquiescing, you gave him a peck on the lips grasping his left hand to shove into the coat pocket until he yet again stopped you. Looking up at him confused, he moved you so that you were now standing on his right - away from the pavement. He then allowed his right hand to find home in the coat’s pocket, the other sliding into the pocket of his jeans.

Seeing your eyes roll at his actions, he simply gave you a smirk “you always claim that chivalry is dead in modern society angel, I’m simply proving otherwise”.

Turning the corner, relief filled you as you spotted your flat building meaning you’d soon be out of the cold. As much as Aemond liked to pretend he was unaffected you could tell the cold was getting to him. Still clasping his hand in the coat pocket you leaned against his side providing as much as you could without bruising his ego. As he looked down at you, you could see the shift in gaze, darkening at you wearing his clothes.

He abruptly stopped and walked you back until your back hit the brick wall behind you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, the other sliding down to the small of your back pushing you against him. As he leaned his forehead against your own, your hands trailed up - one hand resting against his chest, the other coming up to curl around the back of his neck. Your legs slightly opened allowing his thigh to slot in between your own.

Just as he leans down to finally lock your lips in what was sure to be a passion infused breathtaking kiss, a shocked gasp interrupted him. An incredibly deep and agitated groan escaped Aemond, was having a brief uninterrupted moment with the love of his life really so much to ask for?

Slowly pulling away from each other, detangling your limbs you looked over at where the sound came from. It was Billy, the little boy from a few doors that had an affinity for sneaking out while his parents were distracted. Walking over you crouched down before him, “Hey Billy, are you alone sweetheart?”

He hesitated before slightly nodding his head “…yeah”.

“Are your mum and dad upstairs?”, prompting another small nod of his head.

“Well then I guess Aemond and I should take you back up to them, right Aemond?” You said over your shoulder.

Aemond, in return gave a deadpan look - to which you responded with your own - but eventually nodded wrapping an arm around you, pulling you inside as Billy’s little hand grasped your own.

Walking over towards the lifts Aemond went inside and pressed the up button. That’s when you noticed the out of service sign and couldn’t help but chuckle at how the universe seemed to be plotting against him tonight.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself he ushered you and Billy up the stairs before following after, which proved to take a lot longer than initially thought due to Billy’s much smaller legs climbing up to the fourth floor. Finally arriving you quickly stepped across the hallway walking past your door to the flat three doors down and rang the doorbell.

It was safe to say Billy’s mother had quite the shock when she pulled it open to be met with her son, the friendly neighbour and her sometimes friendly boyfriend standing before her. Recovering quickly she immediately began chastising Billy for wandering off again and profusely thanking the two of you for returning him safely. Reassuring her that it was no trouble at all, you allowed Aemond to drag you away back up the hallway and into your own flat.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to you the same predatory glint in his eye returning as he eyed you up and down, drinking you in.

As you pushed Aemond up against the door to your bedroom, he removed his coat from around you, throwing it to the floor all while kissing each other as though your lives depended on it. Parting from him you turned the doorknob behind him, pulling him behind you with a finger curled around one of the belt loops on his trousers.

Moving him to sit on the bed, you pulled his sweater off along with the top he was wearing underneath. You then guided him to stand and instructed him to take off his trousers and pants as you removed your own dress and leggings. As he returned to full height, stark naked he gazed into your eyes, waiting.

Parting your legs before you, you slightly tilted your head down and that’s all the prompting he needed as he gracefully fell to his knees before you. Hooking your left leg over his shoulder, he began kissing up your leg - starting at your calf- licking and sucking as he went.

When he finally reached the apex of your thighs your body fell back against the mattress as he licked as though it was his final meal, nose rubbing against your clit, tongue dipping inside your core. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips as you pleaded - unsure of what for but he seemed to understand as he drove you closer and closer to your release.

Finally with his whisper of “let go for me, my love” you tipped over the edge, thighs shaking and back arched, fisting the sheets.

Climbing up the bed, Aemond’s hand stoked your hair bringing you down from your high. Flipping over onto your stomach, you brought your hand down to wrap around him before sitting up to straddle his thighs, pushing him back to lean against the headboard. Reaching back to unclip your bra, you threw it in the direction he’d discarded your panties.

Re-taking his length in your hand, you guided him to meet your entrance, sinking down you both let out pleasured groans. As he reached up towards your breasts, you took both hands in yours and pinned them by his sides - intertwining your fingers as you moved up and down. Leaning over to kiss him again, you allowed him to move from your lips, down your neck and chest until they wrapped around one of your nipples - alternating between the two between chants of your name.

Switching so your hips were now rotating in circles and grinding against him to make him brush against your g-spot. Releasing his hands you allowed him to touch you all over. Moving your hand to circle his throat you felt his heart beating erratically as the other hand moved to brace yourself against his hard chest as you leaned forward which allowed him to piston his hips up, chasing both of your releases.

When he felt you squeezing him tighter than before he moved a hand down to your clit, driving you to your release as he chased his own. Staring into each other's eyes you fell apart together while you collapsed against his chest. Arms wrapping around you, he rolled you to your side, pressing a kiss to your lips as he left to grab a rag to clean the both of you up.

Returning, he pulled you against his chest as you both felt the built up exhaustion from your day overcoming you. Before allowing sleep to whisk you away, you once again made eye contact, gazes expressing nothing but the pure depth of love you hold for each other. Regardless of how the day didn’t go to plan, in the end you had each other and that’s all that mattered.

#modern aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #darktrashsoulbear writes #cold nights cosy hearts

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johncon · 3 days ago

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Constantine barely held back the full-body recoil at the title directed his way, and exhaled slowly before replying, "You don't have to worry about the trip anymore since we're leaving. And I can't drive. I mean, I can, but not well. Not safely." The other versions of him had siblings? Another difference between him and the rest...

"I'm making a circle. It'll help me get you home properly." He drew the circle around the ghost, adding runes and sigils along the border, before drawing a smaller circle for himself and connecting both. "Stay in your circle, dear, all right? It's very important you do, please."

Next came the sacrifice. It didn't have to be life for life every time, but it had to be important. It had to have meaning, intent, behind it. Constantine pulled out a glass bottle of perfume, giving himself a single spritz from it onto his wrists. It had been his mother's, salvaged from the fire. He'd allowed himself to use it sometimes, very, very sparingly, since it was a discontinued scent.

The magician set it gently into a rune-engraved wooden bowl, and it was followed by a small, half-burnt plush dog- his first plush, his favorite as well. Constantine then pulled out a silver knife and lightly gashed his finger with it, using his blood to trace some sigils into the toy, on its forehead, legs, and back. He watched it sink in, staining the plush further, then pushed the bowl onto the lines connecting the circles.

"I am bringing him back with me," Constantine said steadily, firmly. His voice rang out in the area clearly, thrumming with power. "I would like him alive. Take these sacrifices I have decided upon in exchange, knowing how much it costs me to give them up. The last of my childhood is in this bowl." He lit a match and tossed it into the bowl, and the whole thing lit as if it had been thoroughly doused in petrol, dancing with magenta flame.

Constantine looked pleased with that for a moment, but then abruptly the flames turned a brilliant, sickly-bright green and an invisible force slammed into Constantine's back. He toppled forward, nearly out of his circle, only to then be buffeted backwards with what felt like a brutal punch to the head, unbalancing the magician and sending blood dripping from his nose and ears from his effort of trying to keep control of the spell.

"Give him to me," he gasped out defiantly, and used the next blow from behind to propel himself forward, to grab tight hold of the ghost boy as the spell rebounded around them both, bludgeoning Constantine but thankfully leaving the ghost alone. He felt more than saw a portal open, a vivid, searing green thing, and the spell finally shattered, rebounding him back through it.

Landing hard on his back and skidding into his dresser, Constantine blearily noted he was back in his room, but wasn't able to tell if he'd managed to succeed in bringing the lost teenager with him before passing out.

[Incoming Phone Call] : you-?......

Constantine glanced at the number before answering. With how garbled the numbers were, if they could even be called numbers, it was an odd call, to be sure. "Hello?"

#ooc- sorry this is so long!#ooc- also oop wrong blog for a second--

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chiasaaa · 19 days ago

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— the things we do for love

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: sae has always been stoic, always appearing uncaring who only gives a shit about football. yet, his team noticed how he wears his heart upon his sleeve when it comes to you

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical and spelling errors.

— dating a football superstar only meant frequent days apart from each other, and today is much like any other. because the european league began, sae leaves for germany, the host country for the season. it has been three days since his flight, and he’s already itching for you to get your work done and fly over as soon as possible. he can’t possibly start a season without you, right?

alas, your career as one of the most successful businessmen in spain caused your delay for this year. there is much to take care of with the month of love coming up, and you’re preparing an upcoming fashion line submitting to the theme. sae didn’t want to pressure you into going. after all, fashion is your passion and soccer is his. he wished to be as supportive as you are to him, and that meant refraining from whining like a little kid when he can’t get what he wants immediately.

however, as he stared at his phone screen displaying his last message left with no response for about five hours now, he couldn’t help but feel a little down. have you been so busy that you can’t even take a quick peek at your phone?

sae put the device down the bedside table, turning his back on it in an attempt to sleep it off. that, too, led to nothing but uncomfortable shifting left and right. he can’t sleep not knowing what’s happening to you right now. you haven’t even responded to a simple “did you eat dinner yet?” question. frankfurt and madrid have the same timezone, meaning it’s just as much 23:39 as it is in madrid.

what the hell are you doing at this hour?

buzz!

barry allen just lost his title as the fastest man alive with how sae immediately turned back and snatched his phone from the table, eager to see a message coming from you.

michael kaiser: coach called us down the luxury suite.

curse his annoying narcissistic teammate for getting his hopes up.

with reluctance, sae rises from the bed and threw on a loose pair of sweatpants and his favorite sweater. given that he’s dating you who quite literally dominated the fashion industry in most european countries already, every article of clothing sae used to have were replaced by your designs. not a single one was salvaged, and he preferred it that way. it felt like he walks around with a piece of you everywhere he goes.

if you can’t always be there, your creations most certainly are.

as sae goes down the to meet at the lounge, a few soccer fans boarded the elevator with him and began striking an unwanted conversation. it’s not helping that he’s already in a sour mood because of a certain someone still missing in action. it took a lot for him to stop himself from snapping a snarky comment or two in respect of you. “be nice” in your ever-so sweet and loving voice rang in his head repetitively.

“good luck on your match tomorrow, sae!”

“let’s take a picture!”

“what do you think of tomorrow’s match? will it go well?”

he sighs, “if my girlfriend happens to magically appear, then yes, it’s a sure match.”

sae has always been open about his relationship to the public, mainly because he hates the thought of people thinking he’s still up for grabs when he’s irrevocably yours to begin with. you, thankfully, had no problem dealing with the paparazzi and thousands of interviewers going through hell on earth just to get something out of you.

after what felt like forever, the elevator opened and allowed him to step out and meet his team at the luxury suite reserved for their team meetings. it took him two knocks for the door to open, only to reveal kaiser with a smug smirk on his face.

“aren’t you punctual?”

“you called me over,” sae sighs, walking right inside to see only three more of their teammates with them, “i don’t see coach anywhere.”

“right, i might have lied about that.”

“what—“ sae turns, a string of vulgar words ready to shoot themselves right towards their annoying centre forward, when he was halted by the sight of you closing the door with a gentle smile carved upon your lips. “—the hell…”

“surprise!” you giggled, holding your arms out for him. sae didn’t need to be told twice to bolt right into your warmth, wrapping you in a tender embrace that evoked a thousand unvoiced thoughts expressing how much he missed you. “wow. we’ve only been apart for three days, querido.”

“demasiado tiempo, mi vida.” it’s too much time, my life. sae didn’t know whether or not he should be happy that you’ve finally arrived. partly happy because this is indeed a pleasant surprise, but partly not because what if something happened to you as you’re traveling and he had absolutely no idea? he would hate himself to death if something were to happen to you.

and as if you knew what he was thinking, you carefully leaned back to look into his teal hues. he can stay in that moment forever and never get sick of the sight. “i’m here, and i’m alright.”

indeed, the fact that he’s able to hold you so close to him is enough proof to ease his worries away. he should have known you’d pull things like these even after three years of dating. you always knew how to keep him wrapped around your finger.

oh, the things we do for love.

#itoshi sae #x reader #blue lock #michael kaiser #bllk #anime

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wriothesleysgf · 1 year ago

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pretty boy. — gojo satoru

notes: some domestic gojo, because god knows everyone needs it today.

content: no angst, here we just reject canon and embrace fluff. implied non!sorcerer reader, but can be read either way. established relationship. not proofread. this post is leak/spoiler free! this song is the vibe i was going for, if anyone is interested.

"honey, i'm home!"

the familiar, ever-joyous tone of one gojo satoru rang through the apartment; it was always the highlight of your day. you, however, didn't respond. it concerned him a little, to be honest, but as soon as he heard the sounds of soft music echoing from the kitchen, he knew just where to find you.

you were too busy gently swaying to whichever song the radio station was playing to notice gojo. so, like any adoring boyfriend would, he leaned against the doorframe and watched.

he never thought he'd be lucky enough to have a love like you. with his position in the world of sorcery, and the prestige that his name carried, gojo always thought he'd be alone. hell, he was absolutely petrified of catching feelings for somebody, since there would likely be people willing to hurt the people that he loved in order to get to him. rationally, he knew he could defeat them, but the thought always lingered.

thus, he was incredibly grateful for peaceful moments like this. moments where he could forget that he was the honoured one, and feel like all he is is yours— because that's all he desires anymore.

gojo knocks on the doorframe, not wishing to startle you as you cook. you jumped a little, but immediately settled the very second you saw those blue eyes and messy white locks. he looked so effortlessly attractive, even after a full day's work.

without even saying a word, he saunters over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. his chin rests on the top of your head, and he continues to sway you to the rhythm. as he hums softly, you recognize that he's probably had a difficult day. it's not like him to be so quiet.

you relax under his touch and let him hold you, knowing he needs it right now. "i love you," he mumbles. each words is sincere with him. the tone is more sombre than usual, almost like you'd have expected the words to come from nanami instead.

you get to a point that you can leave the food alone for a moment as it cooks, and turn around to face gojo. his arms remain around you, but you can see his face more clearly now. he's exhausted, and trying to mask that. you move a few stray hairs out of his face, carressing his cheek. "i love you too," you finally reply.

the returned sentiment puts a smile on his face. it's not the regular, goofy grin he displays around others. it's something more real, and it makes you feel like you're one of the few people that gojo really lets in on how he's feeling. if anything, you quite literally are, as his infinity was lowered the second that he stepped into the threshold of your apartment.

since your guard is so far down, gojo begins to move you with ease. he guides your body around the kitchen, causing the pair of you to fall into a rather messy slow dance of sorts. both are content, at peace in each others' arms. there's a blissful silence, a rarity for the gojo household, where nothing but the calming music fills the air.

the two of you remain in this little, serendipitous bubble for a while. the only thing that pops it is when the food on the stove makes a concerning noise, and you notice that you were so caught up that it began to burn.

"shit!" you squeal, leaping out of gojo's arms to try to salvage your meal. he just chuckles, finding your hectic movements amusing.

"baby, don't worry about it," he says, smiling as he pulls out his phone. "i'm ordering in, we can deal with this mess tomorrow,"

gojo then moves closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms so that you can't escape with ease. he waddles backwards towards the living room, not stopping until you're both plopped down on the couch (of course he's on top of you, pinning you down yet somehow not suffocating you with the mess of long limbs that he is).

he flicks on the screen, which is showing some older and kind-of sappy romcom, and presses a few buttons to order your food. the night ends with the coffee table littered in takeout boxes and some movie still playing— you weren't sure what, as you had both fallen asleep in each other's embrace long ago.

#♡｡ now tracking: kfairy ☆.ᐟ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojō x reader #gojo fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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ilovemilestellersmoustache · 4 months ago

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I Bet You Think About Me Part 2

Braden Schneider x Reader x Matt Rempe

WC: 5K

Summary: We receive the love we think we deserve, too bad Matt doesn’t know that

A/N: THIS IS PART TWO OF THIS ANGST FIC

The air in Matt Rempe’s apartment was filled with the scent of garlic and simmering tomatoes as Y/N stirred the pasta sauce on the stove. A soft laugh escaped her lips as Matt tried, and failed, to flip a piece of dough in the air like a professional chef.

“You’re gonna hurt someone with that,” she teased, watching as the dough flopped onto the countertop.

Matt grinned sheepishly, his tall frame hunched over the counter as he tried to salvage the mess he’d made. “Guess I should stick to hockey.”

“Maybe,” Y/N laughed. “But hey, points for effort.”

It had started out as a simple evening. After

A stressful media day, Y/N hadn’t wanted to be alone. Matt, always the easygoing one, had offered to cook dinner, promising to make her laugh and distract her from the emotional weight of the day. And he had. His humor, his lightness—it was a refreshing change from the intensity she had always felt around Braden.

But as the night wore on, something between them shifted. It wasn’t just about pasta anymore. As they ate and shared a bottle of wine, sitting on the couch watching old movies, Y/N began to notice the way Matt looked at her, the way his hand lingered just a little too long on her knee when he laughed, the way her pulse quickened whenever their shoulders brushed. She had never thought of him like this before. Matt had always been the friend, the easygoing guy who could make her laugh. But tonight felt different—more charged.

She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, or maybe the emotional high from finally standing her ground with Braden, but the moment Matt leaned in to kiss her, she didn’t hesitate. His lips were soft, careful at first, as if he were testing the waters. But when she didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened, their bodies gravitating toward each other with an intensity that surprised them both.

Y/N’s hands found the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more urgent. The taste of wine lingered on their tongues, and the world outside seemed to disappear. All that mattered in that moment was the heat between them, the way Matt’s hands explored her back, the way her fingers curled into his hair.

They broke apart only long enough for Matt to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the sculpted muscles beneath. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen Matt shirtless before—after all, they were friends, and he was a hockey player—but this time, it felt different. Intimate.

Her heart pounded as his hands found the hem of her shirt, lifting it gently over her head and tossing it aside. She felt exposed, but not in a bad way. There was a tenderness in Matt’s eyes, a warmth that made her feel safe. This wasn’t about rushing into anything. This was about being in the moment, feeling connected to someone who cared about her, someone who didn’t make her feel like she had to be anything other than herself.

Their kisses grew hungrier as they collapsed onto the couch, limbs tangled together in a mix of passion and laughter. Y/N’s skin tingled where Matt’s fingers grazed her, and she found herself lost in the sensation, in the way he made her feel like the only person in the world. It had been so long since she had felt this kind of closeness with someone—without the weight of expectations, without the fear of being hurt.

Just as they were teetering on the edge of something deeper, something more, the doorbell rang, cutting through the haze of their shared moment.

Matt froze, his forehead pressed against hers as they both caught their breath. “Who the hell…?” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

“I don’t know,” Y/N whispered, her heart still racing.

The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.

Matt sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I’ll get it. Don’t move,” he said, his tone playful but strained.

He quickly grabbed a shirt from the floor and threw it on before heading to the door. Y/N adjusted her position on the couch, her fingers nervously tugging at the blanket as she tried to calm her racing heart. She didn’t know who would be at the door at this hour, but whoever it was, they had the worst timing in the world.

Matt opened the door, and the color drained from his face.

“Braden,” he said, his voice laced with surprise and tension.

Braden Schneider stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable for a moment. But as his eyes flicked from Matt’s disheveled appearance to Y/N, who was half-covered on the couch with her shirt missing, realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Are you kidding me?” Braden’s voice was low, simmering with barely controlled rage.

Y/N’s heart sank. She scrambled to grab her shirt from the floor, hastily pulling it over her head as she stood up. “Braden, this isn’t—”

“Save it,” he snapped, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at Matt. “I came here to apologize, to try and fix things between us, and this is what I walk into?”

Matt stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “Braden, you need to chill. This isn’t what you think.”

Braden let out a bitter laugh, his eyes blazing. “Oh, it’s not? Because it sure as hell looks like you were about to screw my ex-girlfriend, man.”

Y/N winced at the harshness of his words, but she forced herself to stay composed. “Braden, we broke up months ago. You don’t get to come in here and act like this.”

His gaze snapped to her, the hurt in his eyes barely masked by the anger. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna move on with him?”

Y/N crossed her arms, fighting to keep her voice steady. “You broke up with me, Braden. You don’t get to be angry now just because I’m not sitting around waiting for you.”

Braden took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I made a mistake. I know that now. But this—this isn’t right.”

Matt moved between them, his expression hardening. “Braden, back off. You don’t get to come here and start a fight because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Braden spat, though the fury in his eyes told a different story. “I’m just—this is messed up, Matt. We’re supposed to be friends.”

“And we are,” Matt said, his voice steady but firm. “But you don’t get to control what happens with Y/N. You made your choice.”

Braden’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, it looked like he might throw a punch. But then his shoulders slumped, and the anger seemed to drain out of him, replaced by something else—something broken.

“I loved you,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto Y/N’s.

Her breath caught in her throat. “I know.”

Braden’s voice cracked. “I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know what to do with everything I was feeling. But I can’t stand this. Seeing you with him—”

“Braden, it’s not about you anymore,” Y/N said softly, her heart aching for him, but knowing that there was no going back. “We’re over. You have to let me go.”

For a long moment, Braden just stood there, staring at her as if trying to find the words that would fix everything. But there were no words. There was no fixing this.

Finally, he turned away, his voice hollow as he muttered, “I’m sorry.”

And then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him, leaving Y/N and Matt standing in the aftermath of a storm neither of them had been prepared for.

Matt turned to her, his expression uncertain. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded, though her heart felt heavy. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I will be.”

Matt could feel the tension building long before they even arrived at the arena. The silence in the car, while comfortable, carried an unspoken weight. Y/N had reassured him over breakfast that morning that they’d be fine, that what happened between them last night didn’t need to be complicated by what others thought, especially Braden. But as they pulled into the parking lot, the reality of it settled in Matt’s gut like a stone.

The moment they stepped out of the truck, eyes followed them. He noticed it right away—the way some of the guys paused in their conversations, how the trainers glanced over as they walked past. The easy, familiar camaraderie that normally greeted Matt on his way into the locker room felt stilted, almost like everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see how this would unfold.

Y/N, for her part, kept her head held high, walking beside him with quiet confidence. She had always been resilient, able to handle the pressure of working in a male-dominated space with grace. But Matt knew this was different. This wasn’t about media work or professionalism. This was about Braden.

He could already feel Braden’s presence before he even saw him. His stomach tightened as they approached the locker room, dread twisting his insides like a knot.

“You okay?” Y/N asked quietly as they neared the door, her hand brushing his arm lightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, though his voice sounded strained even to his own ears.

“Matt,” she pressed, stopping just short of the locker room entrance. Her eyes searched his face, soft but serious. “If you’re not okay with this, if you think it’s going to cause too many problems, we can—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just… I don’t want things to get ugly with Braden.”

Y/N’s expression softened, though there was a flicker of pain in her eyes when he mentioned Braden’s name. “He’ll have to deal with it, Matt. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He nodded, but the knot in his stomach didn’t loosen. She was right, of course. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But guilt still gnawed at the back of his mind—guilt for how things had played out, for the fight he knew was brewing beneath the surface. For how Braden had looked at him last night, betrayed and hurt.

They reached the door to the locker room, and Matt stopped, glancing down at Y/N. The noise of the team inside hummed through the walls, voices laughing, skates clattering against the hard floors. The normal chaos of pre-practice routines. But today, that noise seemed distant, muted by the anticipation of what was about to unfold.

“Good luck today,” Y/N said, her voice soft and warm, pulling Matt from his thoughts. She stepped closer, and before he could react, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a declaration, a quiet reassurance that she was with him.

Matt’s heart stuttered in his chest. He heard someone clear their throat behind him, followed by a few muttered comments from the guys. He knew they were watching—he could feel their stares like a weight on his back. But for a moment, all he could focus on was the warmth of Y/N’s lips on his skin, the way her touch seemed to settle something deep inside him, even with all the chaos swirling around them.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as she pulled away. “I’ll need it.”

She smiled, and for just a moment, the world felt a little less heavy. But as she turned to head down the hallway toward the media offices, the weight of everything came crashing back. Matt took a deep breath and pushed open the locker room door.

Inside, the usual pre-practice buzz hung in the air, but the moment Matt walked in, the atmosphere shifted. Conversations quieted, and a few of the guys exchanged knowing glances. Jacob, always the first to stir the pot, shot Matt a teasing grin.

“Morning, lover boy,” he said, slinging an arm around Matt’s shoulders as he made his way to his locker. “You and Y/N, huh?”

Matt shrugged him off with a roll of his eyes, trying to play it cool, but his heart was pounding. “Shut up, Jacob.”

But it wasn’t Jacob or the other guys’ comments that bothered him. It was Braden, standing at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes were locked on Matt, dark and unreadable. The tension between them was almost suffocating, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them like a cloud.

Braden hadn’t said anything since last night. Not a single word. But the look on his face told Matt everything he needed to know—he was angry. Hurt. And more than that, betrayed.

Matt tried to focus on getting his gear on, going through the motions like it was just another practice. But his hands shook as he tied his skates, and the knot in his stomach only seemed to tighten as time went on. He could feel Braden’s eyes on him the entire time, could practically hear the accusations running through his old friend’s mind.

Braden was like a storm waiting to break, simmering under the surface, and Matt didn’t know when or how it would explode.

The tension in the locker room only grew as more players filed in, the quiet murmurs turning into hushed whispers about Matt and Y/N, the air thick with speculation. Some of the guys kept it light, teasing Matt about the kiss Y/N had given him outside the locker room. But others, especially those closer to Braden, kept their distance, the lines between friendships subtly shifting as the awkwardness settled in.

As Matt stood up to grab his stick, he couldn’t take it anymore. He walked over to Braden, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to clear the air, to say something, anything, before this exploded into something worse.

“Braden,” he started, his voice low, trying to keep the confrontation private.

Braden’s eyes flicked up, meeting his, cold and unreadable. “What do you want, Matt?”

Matt swallowed hard. “We need to talk about this. About last night.”

Braden let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall. “Talk about what? How you’re screwing Y/N behind my back? How you couldn’t wait to make a move the second I was out of the picture?”

“It’s not like that, man, it’s been months, yu didn’t think she would stay single forver did you?” Matt said, his voice tight. “Besidese we didn’t plan for this to happen. It just… did.”

Braden’s jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides. “You didn’t plan for it? That’s your excuse?”

“I don’t want this to cause tension with us.” Matt said, desperation creeping into his voice. “But you broke up with her. You walked away.”

“I know I broke up with her,” Braden snapped, his voice rising, drawing the attention of a few nearby teammates. “But that doesn’t mean you get to just swoop in and take her, because you’ve known her since we we’re dating.”

“Nobody’s ‘taking’ her, Braden,” Matt shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “She’s not a prize you can claim. She’s her own person, and she deserves to move on.”

“Move on?” Braden’s voice cracked, and for a moment, the anger gave way to something raw, something broken. “Is that what this is? You’re helping her move on from me?”

Matt faltered, guilt stabbing at his chest. “It’s not like that.”

Braden took a step closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “You were supposed to be my friend.”

Matt’s heart sank. “I still am.”

Braden’s eyes hardened, the anger flickering back. “Not anymore.”

The words hit Matt harder than he expected, cutting deep into the guilt he’d been carrying since last night. He watched as Braden turned away, heading toward his gear with stiff, angry movements, shutting down any further attempt at conversation.

Matt stood there, feeling the weight of the team’s eyes on him, the silence in the room heavy with the tension that had been building for weeks, months even. He knew that what had happened between him and Y/N was going to change things, not just with Braden but with the entire team.

As the guys shuffled around, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, Matt felt a bitter truth settle in his chest: things were never going to be the same again.

And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if it was worth it.

Matt couldn’t shake the weight that had settled in his chest, dragging him down all day. Even during practice, his mind wasn’t on the ice where it should have been. The drills felt mechanical, his movements hollow. Braden’s words had cut deeper than he’d let on in the locker room, and now, as he skated across the rink, his mind was miles away.

Braden’s glare had followed him through every drill, and while Braden never outright said anything after their confrontation, his silence spoke volumes. The rest of the team picked up on it too—guys who were usually cracking jokes around Matt were quiet, their glances nervous, as if unsure where their loyalties lay. Matt had always been one of the guys, but today he felt like he was standing on a frozen lake with cracks forming under his skates.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could ignore the cracks.

By the time practice ended, Matt was exhausted, not just physically but mentally. Every time he tried to focus on the game, his mind wandered back to Braden, to Y/N, to the mess that was now his life. The weight of it all pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. He couldn’t even muster the energy to joke around in the locker room like he usually did. Instead, he showered in silence and headed out without saying much to anyone.

He needed space. He needed to think.

Y/N was waiting for him near the media room when he walked out of the locker room. She was sitting on a bench, her phone in hand, scrolling through something. When she looked up and saw him, her face lit up with a soft smile, the kind that usually made his heart race. But today, it only made the knot in his stomach tighten.

He approached her slowly, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension.

“Hey,” she said, standing up and sliding her phone into her pocket. She stepped toward him, reaching for his hand, but Matt hesitated, and she immediately noticed. Her smile faltered. “You okay? You seemed off out there today.”

Matt’s jaw tightened. He could hear the concern in her voice, see it in her eyes. She wasn’t oblivious—she knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know how to start. How to tell her that the weight of everything was pressing down on him so hard, he wasn’t sure he could carry it anymore.

“Matt?” she asked softly, stepping closer, her hand brushing his arm.

He swallowed hard, looking down at her. His heart ached. He had been so sure last night that they could make this work, that what they had was worth the fallout. But now, standing here in the aftermath of Braden’s cold silence and the tension hanging over the team, doubt was creeping in like a shadow he couldn’t shake.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I don’t know if this is going to work.”

Y/N blinked, her expression falling. “What do you mean?”

Matt rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him again. “I mean… this. Us. It’s messing with my head, it’s messing with the team, and I can’t…” He paused, his throat tightening as the words he’d been avoiding all day finally spilled out. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Y/N’s face paled slightly, her eyes searching his for answers, but Matt couldn’t even meet her gaze. “Matt, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but they were tangled up in the mess of guilt, anger, and confusion swirling inside him. “It’s just… everything with Braden, with the team. It’s been so tense lately and especially after last night, and it’s not just about him being mad at me. It’s affecting the way we’re all playing together. I can feel it. The guys are different now—like they don’t trust me or something.”

Y/N stepped back slightly, her arms folding across her chest as if trying to protect herself from the sting of his words. “So… what? You’re saying you think being with me is going to ruin your career?”

Matt winced at her tone, at the hurt flashing in her eyes. That wasn’t what he meant, but now that she’d said it out loud, the fear of it settled deep in his gut. Was that what this was? Was he scared that choosing her—choosing this��meant sacrificing the life he’d worked so hard to build?

“I don’t know!” Matt blurted, his frustration boiling over. “I don’t know what this is going to do. All I know is that it’s already messing with my head, and if it’s going to mess with the team, then maybe it’s not—”

“Not what?” Y/N interrupted, her voice sharp. “Not worth it? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he immediately regretted how this conversation had spiraled. “That’s not what I’m saying,” he said, his voice low, trying to calm down. But he could see the hurt in her eyes, the way she was already pulling away, and it was killing him. “I just… I don’t know how to do this without losing everything I’ve worked for.”

Y/N’s face hardened, her expression shifting from hurt to something colder, sharper. “You mean your career, right? Hockey. The team. Everything but me.”

Matt’s heart clenched, guilt twisting inside him. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that she was important to him, that last night had meant something real. But how could he deny that fear that had been gnawing at him since practice? How could he pretend that this wasn’t already affecting his focus, his game?

Y/N shook her head, her voice breaking. “I knew this was going to be complicated, but I thought… I thought we could figure it out. You’re the one who initiated all this with me Matt remember that. You started the laughes, whispers, longing stares… the kisses. You chose this Matt, but I didn’t think I’d have to fight for you when I accepted it.”

Her words stung, but they also hit home. He had wanted to believe they could figure it out too. That maybe, somehow, it would all just work out. But now, standing here in the cold, harsh light of reality, he wasn’t sure anymore.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Matt said quietly, his voice hoarse. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she took a step back, creating more distance between them. “Maybe the problem is you’re not even sure if you want to fix it.”

Matt flinched, the truth in her words hitting him harder than anything Braden had said. He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong. But the silence that hung between them said everything he couldn’t.

Y/N took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “If you’re already having doubts, then maybe we shouldn’t be doing this at all.”

Matt’s chest tightened, panic surging through him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He didn’t want to push her away, but it felt like that was exactly what he was doing. And the worst part? He didn’t know how to stop.

“I don’t want that,” he said, his voice rough with desperation. “But everything’s falling apart, Y/N. I don’t know how to hold it all together.”

She looked at him for a long moment, the silence stretching between them, heavy and suffocating. Then, with a small, sad smile, she said, “Maybe you can’t.”

And with that, Y/N turned and walked away, leaving Matt standing there, watching as the one thing he had been so sure of the night before slipped through his fingers.

As he watched her disappear down the hallway, Matt realized with a sinking heart that maybe he wasn’t strong enough to have both—the career he’d always dreamed of and the girl who made him feel like he could be more than just a hockey player.

And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he deserved either one anymore.

Y/N hadn’t spoken to Matt or Braden in weeks. Not a single word, not even a glance in their direction. She kept things professional—strictly business during interviews, maintaining the calm, collected exterior she had built over the years. But underneath that composed surface was a bitterness she couldn’t shake, a sadness that clung to her like a second skin.

The first few days had been unbearable. Every time she saw Matt on the ice or Braden walking by, the memories flooded her—memories of Matt’s touch, Braden’s words, the way everything had unraveled so quickly. But Y/N had forced herself to push it all down, to focus on her work, on being the best reporter she could be. She had to. If she let herself feel any of it, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep it together.

At practice, she kept her distance, standing off to the side with her notebook and microphone, making small talk with the other reporters. The guys on the team noticed her silence, the way she avoided Matt’s and Braden’s eyes, but no one said anything. It wasn’t their place to get involved, and Y/N was grateful for that. The last thing she needed was pity or gossip.

Her interviews with Braden were short, her questions crisp and to the point. She never let her emotions slip, never allowed the tension between them to seep into the professional space they now shared. It felt like walking a tightrope, balancing her feelings with the need to maintain a perfect facade. Every time she saw the flicker of guilt or regret in Braden’s eyes, she forced herself to ignore it, to keep her voice steady and her expression neutral.

With Matt, it was even harder. There had been a time when their banter came naturally, when he could make her laugh during interviews, even when she was trying to be serious. But now, the air between them was thick with unspoken words. She would ask her questions, he would answer, and that was it. No lingering eye contact, no soft smiles. Just two people going through the motions.

She thought about their last conversation every day—the way Matt had said he wasn’t sure if being with her was worth the risk, the way she had felt her heart crack as she realized that he wasn’t willing to fight for them. Her anger toward Braden had simmered, but it was Matt’s doubt that had left her feeling hollow. She had been so sure of him, of them, and now it felt like she was grasping at something that had never really been hers to begin with.

One day, after a particularly brutal practice, Y/N found herself in the hallway near the locker rooms, waiting for Matt to finish an interview with another reporter. She watched from a distance, her heart twisting at how tired he looked, the strain clear in the lines of his face. He wasn’t playing like himself lately—everyone on the team had noticed it. He was still good, still Matt, but something was off. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with her, if he was struggling as much as she was to pretend like nothing had happened.

When Matt finished his interview, he glanced her way, his eyes catching hers for the briefest second before she quickly looked away, turning her attention back to her phone. She felt his gaze linger, and for a moment, she thought he might walk over, say something, anything. But he didn’t. He turned and walked down the hall toward the locker room without a word.

The silence between them felt heavier every day. And yet, neither of them seemed to know how to break it.

Braden was no different. Their interactions were purely professional—stilted, formal, devoid of any of the tension that had once simmered between them. But every time she saw him, she was reminded of the hurt he had caused, the way he had torn her apart with his fear and his indecision. He had broken up with her because he hadn’t been able to handle the depth of their connection, and now that it was over, she could see that he regretted it. But it didn’t matter. He had made his choice, and so had she.

Still, there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when Y/N would catch herself watching Matt on the ice, or she would see Braden laughing with the guys and feel a pang of something she didn’t want to admit was longing. She missed them. She missed the way things had been before everything had gotten so complicated.

But every time those feelings surfaced, she buried them deeper, forcing herself to remember that this was for the best. She had told herself that over and over again. Maybe it was better this way, to keep her distance, to focus on her work and leave everything else behind. Maybe she had been foolish to think that she could have it all—her career, her reputation, and a relationship with someone who was tangled up in the same world she was trying to navigate.

And yet, every time she saw Matt or Braden, the doubt crept in. Maybe it wasn’t for the best. Maybe she had given up too soon.

But no matter how much it hurt, Y/N knew that there was no going back now. The walls she had built around herself were too high, and even if either of them tried to break through, she wasn’t sure she’d let them. She had been burned too many times, and the scars were too fresh.

Weeks passed, and the distance between them all only grew. Y/N kept her head down, kept her heart locked away, and did what she did best—pretended like everything was fine. But as the days stretched on, the loneliness gnawed at her, a constant reminder that no matter how hard she tried to separate herself from the pain, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface.

Because the truth was, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she wasn’t sure she could ever truly let go of either of them.

A/N: Comment who you wanna end up with idk who to pick

#braden schneider x reader #connor bedard #connor bedard x reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #luke hughes x reader #nhl x reader #braden schneider #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe #new york rangers #nhl imagine #umich hockey #Spotify

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zzencat · 6 months ago

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Why Am I So Hard On Myself? - Timeless ⏳

Breathe and choose. Left to right.

Kinda doing this one on a whim but figured it could help anyone who needs to be heard and have their doubts or feelings validated. You’re not alone. Does it say anything else about you?

TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

———————————————-

Pile 1 | “no matter how hard i try…”

somehow, something always goes wrong. you always try to salvage what you can, picking up the pieces and trying to make the most of the situation, but maybe the timing is shit, or it isn’t met up to standard. plans ruined, connections gone, opportunities lost. even when all you do is try and try. you might even think “why is this even happening? im only breathing”

small note: while shuffling, it was going pretty nicely then cards started flying out of my hands like fliers on a windy day. it’s a small thing, but to me, it has to do with having constant roadblocks and inconveniences, and that maybe you feel like you’re at your last straw sometimes

you want to be seen for your efforts. at least some acknowledgment that someone knows, sees, and understands that you’re trying. someone to hear you out for once and take you seriously, even if none of what you’d done or contributed has worked before. just acknowledgment would be enough. maybe you’re the only one who recognizes your efforts.

i think you struggle with maintaining career, friendships, or really anything, in general. the foundations laid out might’ve been risky or unstable to begin with so you could question why things don’t last for you. a part of you expects the heartbreak to happen.

it’s crazy bc in this pile, there’s so much…optimism and hope (that might be dying out or feels like it has already) that one day something will work out

your heart isn’t completely closed and you’ll still have it open to accept things, even when you think it shouldn’t. this is what makes you a stronger person. it opens a wide range of doors for you, whether you know it or not. don’t give up.

———————————————————————————————————————

Pile 2 | “look out!”

you’re so used to prioritizing others and putting yourself last. bc of this, you could’ve missed out on many things and lost opportunities

you have a big heart and hella good energy — an abundance of it — but for some reason, it’s rarely spent on yourself

you feel like it’s your responsibility, all of it — to run or lead things, as if it’s all in your hands. to take over when things are about to fall apart. who made it your responsibility to carry the burdens of others? what happens then if they don’t reciprocate or return the same generosity?

all of this energy is being redirected to the wrong places when you should be thinking about yourself too. how can you help others when you can’t even help yourself? how about your own dreams and goals? you’re human too, so you need the care and support as well. your energy doesn’t just grow on trees. put yourself high on your own list. make yourself a priority for once. book a spa day and have someone else take over for the day.

——————————————————————————————————-

Pile 3 | *whistling*

for this pile, it seems to be more family related, where your pursuits, outlooks, or the way you treat yourself is how you were treated growing up. there’s some connection to pile 2 as well, so there could be some messages in pile 2 for you if it caught your eye

parent(s)/caretakers put a lot of pressure on you with crazy expectations or nitpicking, sometimes maybe even emotional manipulation like guilt tripping

there’s a need to take more charge in your life, especially in the creative and emotional corners of it, and also to create more meaningful and deep connections

some people in this pile might be easily defensive as well too. in this lifetime, you’re gonna learn to put your guard down, bc perhaps you’d grown up feeling trapped and forced into a mold you didn’t belong in

you could struggle with emotional commitment or generally sticking to one thing. there are probably too many things you wanna do or end up trying at least once. relationships might not last too long. there could even be a subconscious fear that you won’t be able to meet someone else’s emotional needs or standards.

you’re very spontaneous and prob get bored easily. also prob struggled academically (ex: having a hard time understand in subjects, sticking to one thing/constantly changing interests or majors, feeling trapped, giving up)

you’re lowkey a perfectionist. perhaps you’re never satisfied bc you grew up with that kind of dissatisfaction on yourself, likely by adults or maybe just things you’d picked up from adolescence

at some point, you might reflect back and feel disappointed in yourself, even if you’d just had the time of your life. it seems like this pile indulges in more superficial activities/substances to fill in the void in that chest

—————————————————————————

ending teddy note: hey guys! been a while but here’s a pac for ya!! i think this is a great pac if you don’t have someone to acknowledge the potential issues going on in your life. thank you for taking the time to read this and i really hope you enjoy it! rmr to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. ciao!! :P

i would appreciate the feedback! lemme know what you got or think in the comments or reblogs 🦾

- The Tedster

#daily tarot #tarot advice #tarot blog #tarotblr #tarot reading #free tarot #divination #witchblr #pac tarot #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a card #tarot community #tarot #tarot witch #spirituality #spiritual growth

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akirathedramaqueen · 5 months ago

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There's one piece of concept art that made me see the entire Apology Tour disaster in a different light.

So, we've been talking with @warblogs17282 about Stolitz and how their break-up ended up playing out in the 'Apology Tour' episode.

Why ended up? Well, there's a collection of concept art which, to my limited understanding of this craft, is one of the first steps in the production process of animation. This post by @birdy-babe includes a great chunk of it, shared by artists after the episodes aired (like storyboards, but much more stylised, showing how different some original ideas were). Long story short, one of the concept arts from the 'Apology Tour' episode suggests their quarrel was originally meant to be much harsher.

A short summary of the concept art to see what we are dealing with

In the background, you see a lot of apology postcards and silly cutesy stationery, suggesting Blitzø is in the middle of his Apology Tour.

The contact name isn't 'Stols' but 'Bird Dick,' implying their relationship is at an earlier stage, with less respect—at least on Blitzø's part.

There's a photo partially cut by the edge of the messages screen. From the signature gloves and boots, cowboy hat covering Blitzø's private parts, and visible nipples, it appears to be a nude image—replaced in later stages of development with stupid gay affirmation memes (as hard as it is to believe, I couldn't imagine there could be anything worse than the Striker horse gay jokes... well, it could, my dudes, it fucking COULD).

There are three messages, one of which is unsent:

"Stolas, cum awwwwwwn, u no u want it :)"—likely attached to the nude;

"Dude just talk to me"—desperation crawls in; he finally realises the shit has hit the fan;

"Im sowwy :("—an apology, but the text remains unsent, perhaps because it seems pointless, given that the 'Not Delivered' notifications and warning signs indicate Stolas has blocked his number.

Why do I find this fascinating, and why does it fill me with immense hope?

Because they still fucking care so much, and neither has completely closed the door on the other. By comparing the concept art to the final product, you can see how many intentional choices were made in dialogue, visuals, and behaviour to make it clear that these two idiots still want things to continue. Stolitz is meant to fucking live.

Now, if you want to see some comparisons—evidence, really—let's dive into each other's changes, focusing on what we can gather from the concept art.

Blitzø's side

Change 1—thank gods, no nudes. The gay memes are sillier and a bit lighter. Of course, they still showcase utter disrespect, a horrible prejudice against sexuality, and a poor understanding of how deeply Stolas was hurt, but I find them... less bad.

Change 2—no more 'Bird Dick.' Blitzø has actually come up with a real nickname for Stolas! Feelings are boring for you, huh, Blitzø? I can almost hear the song’s lines: "O-oh, hooked, addicted you might say, conflicted in a way…"

Change 3—Blitzø's attempts to apologize now show much more contemplation. Since Stolas hasn’t blocked him, Blitzø knows his words aren’t just being thrown into the void. Although the 'unsent' detail remains, it now carries real weight and impact.

All three changes are seen in these two GIFs.

He knows he did wrong. He knows he wants to salvage it. He might not yet know how to do it healthily, but he tries—he tries so fucking hard!

Look at the range of raw, cutting emotions as he speaks to Stolas and finally delivers his apology—probably the only one he genuinely meant. Well, maybe except for Verosika, a bit later.

It's not that it's hard for Blitzø to say 'sorry'—we've seen him do it a lot lately. He's actually quick to apologise and take responsibility, so Stolas's remark about him not feeling any remorse couldn’t be further from the truth. But the fact that he isn't running away this time—chasing after Stolas and trying his best to mend things—is drastically different from how he treated Verosika back then.

Stolas's side

Here’s the moment that struck me deep. It’s the only change, since the concept art shows Blitzø’s POV, but it’s such a significant one.

Do you think Stolas has moved on? Do you think he’s done with Blitzø? Not convinced, even when he’s literally singing about still wanting Blitzø?

Well, here’s your proof—he didn’t block Blitzø. They scrapped that.

More than that, the entire interaction emphasizes that Stolas isn’t pushing Blitzø away for good.

How do I know this? Stolas is very insistent on using phrases like 'for now,' 'right now,' and 'now' throughout his attempts to tell Blitzø off.

Here are some citations:

"I was hoping my lack of 'ha-ha's' in response to the photos you sent me would be an indicator I didn't want to talk right now."

"Seeing you right now is hard!"

"I'm tired of this! I'm uncomfortable with how you're speaking to me now!"

Why is this so important? Because he isn’t asking Blitzø to leave him forever. All he’s asking for is time.

Even while hurt, Stolas gives Blitzø plenty of chances to explain himself civilly. Look at the hopeful glances each time Blitzø shows any glimpse of genuineness.

Stolas fucking hopes Blitzø will take back all the cruel things said and brash actions done.

You know, Stolas... I've spent the entirety of this morning listening to love ballads, and that was...

For what?! You want me to be like, "Oh sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I've let my self-hatred stop me from apologising to anyone I could ever care about!"

You see the furrowed brows and the sad look? Stolas hopes for the best... but gets the worst because Blitzø isn’t there yet.

I’d even go so far as to say Stolas is acutely aware that Blitzø uses his brashness as a shield to protect himself. He literally sang about it in 'Just Look My Way.'

Unless it's me? And no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through these walls you've conjured up to live.

So, what gives?

Is this the behaviour of people who want to give up on a relationship they still clearly hold dear?

No. Even when they’re angry, aggressive, hurt, or drunk, they still seek understanding and forgiveness. They continue to listen and try.

They might lack the skills and may choose the wrong time, place, or words to express what truly matters...

One person, scared of being rejected so much that he unconsciously conveys this message by saying, "You don’t have to stay here with me," and carrying it throughout the whole conversation...

The other, coming to terms with his feelings, admits them, and his fears, a bit too late—when his romantic interest is too drunk to comprehend anything…

And in both cases—self-loathing, self-hatred, doubts, scars, trauma… and a lack of hope.

But there is hope. No, this is reassurance, my folks.

You know when it's hardest to stay in a relationship? When it’s hardest to come and say, "I am sorry," when it’s hardest to still love the person?

When you’re hurt. When they’ve hurt you.

And, despite that, you still come to them and still want to talk to them.

If this isn’t ironclad evidence that this is more than just a fling or a couple of fun sex dates, I don’t know what is.

And the 'Apology Tour' fucking proves it, rather than ruins it. It only strengthens the point. It’s easy to live in happiness, but it’s so hard to go through it while you’re in pain. When you see them doing that, you realise it means everything to them.

Stolitz is to live.

#GET OFF MY MEN #they are so stupidly in love I want to smack them sometimes and... idk put them in a cage OR SOMETHING and make them fucking talk for once #they so fucking care for each other they go above and beyond to change for the better #they've already changed just because they want to be better for their love #even though they don't fully realise it #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss apology tour #stolitz #blitzø #stolas #stolas x blitz #blitz x stolas #blitz #stolas goetia #akira's whimpery metas

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littlefireball · 7 months ago

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ᴄꜱ|ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴏꜰ ᴇx-ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ (ᴍ)

ᴇx-ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɪᴅᴏʟ ꜱᴀɴ x ᴀᴄᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.3ᴋ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱᴀɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ. ɴᴏ, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

After parting ways with San, you poured your heart and soul into your work, using it as a means to distract yourself from the pain of the breakup. There were no betrayals, no major arguments—just a gradual fading of his feelings for you, leaving you feeling empty and lost. Despite your efforts to salvage the relationship, all you received in the end was a simple "I'm sorry," a phrase that cut deeper than any knife.

Acting had always been your escape, a way to channel your emotions into something productive, and today was no different. You and the main lead, Yujin, stood face to face with a smile. Today’s scenes were all explicit and intimate. But your relationship was pretty good, so it won’t be too embarrassing. “Fighting!” He said softly, clenching a fist . “You too” You replied with a small smile.

“Ok…action!”

“Come back to me, please,” Yujin stepped forward and leaned dangerously close, you could even feel his breath fall on your skin. “But…your family…” “I don’t care.” Cupping your face with his big hands, he gave you a deep kiss.

Both of your breaths became rapidly because of heavy panting, mixed with faint moans and shy sucking sounds. You gradually retreated as he moved forward and stopped as your back pressed against the cold wall.

“Misoo…” You moaned out his name as he sucked hard on your neck, tilting your head to give him more access. Yujin picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, walking to the sofa before putting you down.

“Mine," He climbed over you and settled himself between your thighs, lifting your chin and claiming your mouth into a hungry kiss. Memories of being with San suddenly flooded your mind, making tears well up in your eyes. But you immediately shook it off and got back to acting. This kissing scene was so long that you and him almost got lost in it.

“Ok, cut!!” Your lips parted as the director’s voice rang in your ears. “Good take! Take a rest.” As you sat alone in your dressing room, the echoes of the intense scene still lingering in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a wave of emotions crashing over you. The facade of strength you had put on for the camera melted away, leaving you vulnerable and raw.

The memories of San haunted you like a ghost, his smile, his touch, his voice...they all played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you with what once was and what could have been. You tried to push them away, bury them deep down, but they clawed their way back to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

A knock on the door startled you out of your reverie. "Come in," you called out, trying to compose yourself before facing whoever was on the other side. The door creaked open, revealing Yujin standing there, a concerned look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. You forced a smile, nodding slightly. "I'm fine, just...lost in thought, I guess."

Yujin came closer, sitting beside you on the dressing table. "I can see that it's been tough for you lately. Breakups are never easy, especially when it's so sudden and unexpected." His words were like a soothing balm to your wounded heart, offering comfort in a sea of turmoil.

“Maybe will you have dinner with me? If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m around.” He asked, his face was as red as a tomato, making you chuckle at his shyness.

“Yah, sure.”

—---

The TV series quickly gained popularity, especially due to the intimate scenes between you and Yujin that sparked heated discussions among netizens, fueling rumors of a real-life romance. Fans meticulously analyzed every interaction, every glance, searching for confirmation of their suspicions.

Struggling to adapt to life without you, San found the ache of your breakup hadn't dulled with time. Memories of your shared laughter, your whispered confessions, your secret meetings after work, where you sought solace in his arms, late-night phone calls during his travels abroad and the warmth of your embrace haunted him, refusing to fade with time.

The breaking point came at an awards ceremony. As a performance guest, San sat in the dressing room waiting for his stage. Your presence on screen captivated him, leaving him unusually quiet.

“What? I’m okay, guys. We broke up.” Yes, you two broke up but San found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the screen, captivated by your every smile, every gesture. The rest of ATEEZ could only look at each other but nobody spoke.

When the award for Best Couple was announced, and it was awarded to you and Yujin, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. San felt a sharp pang of jealousy and bitterness when he laid on both of you, full of happiness. But why? Didn’t he have any feelings for you anymore? Or did he not realize that he still likes you?

“Err, maybe we…” Wooyoung attempted to change the subject but San suddenly stood up and left the room. “I go to toilet,”

“Just leave him alone,” Seonghwa shook his head as wooyoung tried to catch him up. “He would be fine.”

Unable to ignore the turmoil in his heart, San reached out to you, his fingers trembling as he typed out a message. "Can we have a talk?" He stared at the screen to wait for your reply. Usually, you would reply to him within seconds. “The ceremony is not over yet, she won’t reply to me now…” He comforted himself, trying hard to hide his uneasiness.

But, even if the ceremony had ended for more than an hour, his message was still unread. He kept checking his phone to see if you were online. No. You weren't even online before the ceremony.

"Hello?" The ringing phone brought San back to reality, 'Seonghwa hyung' flashing on the screen. "San, where are you? We have to go to an after-party," Seonghwa said urgently. "I'm on my way," San replied, hanging up before slipping the phone back into his pocket. With a heavy heart, he made his way towards the after-party, preparing himself for the inevitable encounter with you and Yujin.

As he approached, he saw you standing alone by the bar, a look of vulnerability in your eyes that mirrored his own. "Hey," San said, surprising you. "Hey," you replied softly, forcing a smile.

"Hmm…Congratulations," San stammered, unsure of what to say. "Thanks," you responded, taking a sip of your wine, feeling uneasy in his presence. Didn’t you want him to talk to you? Why did you feel so heartbroken when you should be happy?

"Hmm…Where's Yujin?" San asked, trying to make conversation. "I don't know. He's not my boyfriend," you clarified. San's face lit up with a hidden smile.

"Oh, I thought you two were dating, with all the news..." You felt a pang of disappointment as you realized he might only be talking to you because you had a new boyfriend.

"Hey, are you San, right?" Yujin approached, waving his hand. San's smile faded, but he greeted Yujin politely. "Nice to meet you."

"Y/n’s acting was amazing, wasn't it?" Yujin complimented, leaning in close to you. San watched, a hint of jealousy in his eyes.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling torn between the two men. San contemplated taking you away from Yujin, but he held back, unsure of his own feelings.

“Your acting was good, too” “Oh, thanks. So, is it the reason why our fans always match us as a couple?” Yujin said provocatively, making you almost squirt.

“*Cough* Yeah, we still have something to talk about, PRIVATELY. Excuse me.” Without a second thought, San took your hand in his and pulled you towards the room without people.

“Wait, wait, San.” Your struggle was completely in vain. “Hey, you…!” He pressed you against the door, leaning so close that your lips touched as he spoke. As San's lips brushed against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through your body. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room.

"Y/n, I... I can't stand seeing you with Yujin," San whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I thought I could ignore it, but no, I can't. It breaks my heart when I see you with him."

"San, I... I..." you started, but he gently placed a finger on your lips, silencing you.

"I don't want to pressure you, Y/n. But I had to tell you how I feel. I can't pretend anymore," San confessed, his hand trembling slightly against the door.

In that moment, everything seemed to fall into place. The pieces of the puzzle that had been scattered for so long suddenly clicked together. You reached out, cupping San's face in your hands, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I've always loved you, San." you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I missed us…” “And here we are.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of San's lips, relief washing over his features. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a tender, hesitant kiss.

You slightly opened your mouth to welcome his tongue, his tip intertwining with yours, sending a wave of happiness and sweetness throughout your bodies.

“Who kisses you better? Tell me, y/n. Me or yujin?” He said between the kiss, earning a chuckle from you. “What if I say you are not good enough?" "Then I’ll show you who is better.”

The passion between you ignited, each kiss a fervent exploration of shared desire, a merging of souls that left an indelible mark on your hearts. You yielded to his advances, allowing him to take the lead as his movement grew more urgent, more possessive

His hand trailed down to the slit of your dress, finding the hem of your panties and pulling it down in one go. His fingers caressed your clit, making your juices flow out because of sudden excitement. You moaned in his mouth as he pushed his index finger into your cunt, moving in and out while scratching your tight wall.

“San…” “Gotta prepare you well, darling.” He pulled out the finger and picked you up, shoving you to the sofa as if you were nothing. Oh god, you missed this feeling.

Unbelted his pants, San freed his angry red cock that arched for so long. “Remember the feeling how I fuck you?” Slowly, his erection found its way to your entrance, sliding in as you arched your back in response. “Ah~fuck!”

Cupping your face, he pressed his lips against yours, starting to move. It had been so long since you felt this way. The sensation of him inside you drove him wild, his cock twitching with each thrust, drawing moans from your lips.

"I may not last long," he groaned, fingers intertwined with yours as he buried his face in your neck. A loud groan escaped you, surprising both of you. "Feel good, huh?" he asked, pressing his body against yours, the added friction heightening the pleasure.

The room was filled with the symphony of moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin, creating a melody that resonated in their ears. "I need deeper, babe," he whispered, sitting up to position your leg on his shoulder, his movements steady and intense. The depth of his thrusts pushed you towards the peak of pleasure, your eyes tightly shut as tears of ecstasy streamed down your face.

But San desired more, craving a deeper connection with you. He shifted your legs to the side, holding your arms as he pulled you into a passionate kiss. His tongue sought entrance with a mix of urgency and possessiveness, a silent declaration of his claim over you. Despite the initial expectation of rejection or disgust, you found yourself surrendering to the intensity of the moment, willingly succumbing to the whirlpool of desire that he embodied.

"I can't get enough of you, baby," he whispered, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist. You nestled into his embrace, cupping his face as your lips met in a kiss. Breathless and lost in the moment, your lips remained locked in a dance of fervor. “Hm…san…” You carefully bounced in a slow pace as if testing the water.

"Baby, you can go faster.” As the intensity grew, he urged you to go faster, his desire evident in his voice. “You wouldn't have been so slow before. Or maybe you need some help?” With a sudden, powerful thrust, he hit your sweet spot, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain. "Oh, fuck!" you gasped, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“That’s my girl.” He took control, gripping your wrist to control you bouncing at a very fast pace that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Moans and cries filled the air as you both gave in to the primal urge driving you towards ecstasy. His thick cock totally ruined you, the numbness from the g post colliding making you dizzy.

He knew you were about to cum as your wall became so tight and juices flowed out. “Cum for me, cum for me." With a loud moan, you released everything, wetting his thick cock. He also came in your cunt after a few thrusts.

“What…what if I get pregnant…?” Maybe this question was too late to ask though. “I will take care of both of you.” He gently tucked your hair behind your ears, pecking at your red cheek.

“Let's get back together, Y/N.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez san #san smut

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sintiva · 2 years ago

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situationship(s)

eren x black!reader (chubby reader)

“r-ren’s enough… too much,” and when you say that he thrusts his hips a bit harder, making you really feel the way his tip pokes at your cervix. it makes you an idiotic mess, blabbering, stuttering and moaning as eren fucked you relentlessly from the back.

just real nasty toxic!eren who shoots your flimsy resolve down with terrific accuracy as he makes it his mission to shit on your ex, mid stroke, cause he’s a damn narcissist. it’s always shit about how bad your ex was; how he was an asshole, coniving, that sneaky sone of a bitch. he really was an asshole, so much so, he made jaeger look like a saint.

“was he as big as me? how many times did he make this pussy cum in one night?”

his words? they stung bad like the newly formed tears in your eyes, that you blinked away. they smushed your brain in between the palm of its invisible hands as his hips slam against your ass over and over. like a paddle to a ping pong ball, eren. didn’t miss. a. single. hit.

he didn’t miss the way your thighs trembled and your body would go all limp, as you moaned into the sheets to get rid of all that pent up sexual frustration. it ripped at your insides during the day, but burnt like a warm bonfire, steadily growing as you threw things at it. but you also missed the way how this — all this contact felt on a day-to-day basis when you two were together, once a normal couple.

“all this squirming, baby? ex wasn’t fucking you good enough, huh? left this pussy aching for some real dick. you just needed me to dig this pussy out”

mhmm

he reaches for your arms, locks them together behind your back with both of his arms. now he can really control everythingyou’re back arches up, your body trembles and you pull yourself off his dick. mumbling some things about him being too rough, being too mean, and something ‘bout, “stoo hard, daddy-“ sniffles, “,”gentler please.”

eren silently complies, but while he has you in his grasp, he will enjoy his time. you made him come all this way, and he will leave with something.

he stretched your ass cheeks apart and spat a nice wod of spit onto his thumb and rubbed its way right into that other hole, it felt so tight but eren’s thumb just slipped right in, hooking into you as he stretched his fingers around the suppleness of your ass and the fullness of your hips. and when you pulled your hips away, scared cause you didn’t know how long you could go with eren digging into you making you damn near pass out.

he’s rolling his eyes in annoyance, blowing a strand of hair out his face, and tracing his hands down your back.

“you don’t wanna cum on my dick? you’re hurting my feelings, baby…”

his voice rang like church bells in a desolate ghost town left for caravans and wonderers to salvage. the baritone octave and slew of words spilling out of his throat as if he just learned them; literring complete nonsense into your ear.

then the most heart achingly, sweet pout form on his face. he’s forcing your back into a deep, pretty arch, your back rolls stretch and squish back as your body conforms and relaxes. then his fingers slot themselves into the space between your hips and stomach, bringing your ass back, thrusting his dick in between your ass cheeks before he stuffs your cunt full, again.

hitting just right against the spot that hides deep in the back towards, up at the top, you scream, and end up cumming on his dick. “yeah, i’ll go slow, ma. jus-just keep cumming on this dick. i know when you’re lying, talking ‘bout some—too hard.” you gasp out, whining as eren’s soft groans of mockery send shivers through your body, making you cum even harder, trembling as your orgasm hits harder the slower his strokes become, your little fingers ball up the sheets.

your pussy hugs him, it keeps his dick nice and warm, so soft and inviting that small spurts of cum shoot right out of his tip. hips stuttering as your pussy squeezes and squeezes to milk his cock. sucking tighter at the tip, the farther he digs in then winding down as your poor hips bucked along his length. you can’t manage a single word, you’re droolin’ and winding your hips. making it clap, bouncing your ass back, “like that mamas, bounce it on my dick, good girl.”

and here you were listening. feeling delighted from the addiction. when you think you’ve managed to get over him, you’re running back. taking his nonsense, and his dick like a packaged deal. when you’re telling him how shitty of a boyfriend he was… though you tend to do it during inopportune times. your favorite time being when he’s got all eight inches of his dick in you.

eren knows you all too well, because he’s the one who was on the receiving end of all those phone calls you’d make when your boyfriend fucked up. maybe you should’ve stayed with him, oddly it seemed like he wasn’t fully lying when he said you’d always come back to him.

the way he treated you throughout your entire relationship, meaning nothing — tossed to the firey flames of an incenerator. lighting a quick flame that distinguishes with the flip of a switch; your heart. it could also be your brain, but these days differentiating them seemed highly inattainable.

there was rarely peace of mind.

so you’re stuck coming back for a bed to lay on, and a dick to fuck. he’s just a shitty, asshole… narcissist? that’s what it is. and you blame yourself for parading along such witty ego. it was a complete drag, ripping you up and tying you by your ankles. the fucking worst.

#eren x black reader #eren x reader smut #eren x black reader smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren jaeger smut #aot x reader #eren jaeger aot #eren smut

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teojira · 8 months ago

Note

QUEEN loved your noa hcs ty for feeding us!! would you pretty please write some about him realizing he has feelings for the reader and trying to impress them/drop hints/confess :3c

[Youth][Noa x reader drabble/headcanons]

Summary: Noa is down bad for you, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of!

Word count:

A/N: I miss Noa so bad, can you tell? I hope these r okay anon! Sorry it took me so long to get to these </3

There was never any preparation for this, no recorded interactions between Echo and Apes that ended in them being mates.

How the hell was Noa supposed to proceed?

He's not ready for this. He's been shoving it down deep inside, telling himself what he feels for you is friendship. He's just worried for you, is all.

You're just a human that lives with them, that's all. A really pretty human. He certainly doesn't daydream of you, running his fingers through your hair, staring into your eyes for hours, teaching you how to hunt and fish. He doesn't. It'd never work between you both.

Ape and Echo, Caesar made it work, Noa had learned as much.

It wasn't until his mother started pestering him, shooting him looks whenever he would randomly bring you up in conversation, despite the subject having nothing to do with you.

"You like them." The rate at which Noa snaps his neck back at Dar is concerning. She's almost positive she heard a snap.

"No? Why-"

"I am your mother, I know you."

"Mother, maybe if I had to-" Noa tries to sign fast, but the blush rushing to his face isn't helping.

"Had to? Why would you ever have to love them?"

"...oh."

She got him there.

"But we are so...different. It would never work." Noa stares down at his hands, exhaling harshly.

"Noa, listen to me." Dar rests his hand under Noa's chin, tilting it towards herself.

"Don't wait. Follow your heart."

"But what if-"

Dar shakes her head, bring her palm to cover Noa's heart. "Follow."

Now, with his mother's blessing, Noa is a lot more confident in courting you.

Doesn't mean he's good at it.

He doesn't have any basis for this. Give him a break. His mother and father weren't particularly keen on letting their relationship be for everyone to see, even to their son. So yes, he's struggling.

He starts off with spending more time with you, offering to take you on day trips to the city, under the guise of looking for more "Echo books" for you.

He has to subtly tell Anaya to fuck off when he tries to invite himself and Soona with you both. Poor Noa is shaking his head behind you with death and horror in his eyes until Anaya finally gets the hint.

Speaking of which, Anaya and Soona try and help. They mean well, but Noa is not trying to rush into it. The two have other plans.

They trade jobs with Noa, with the intent that it'll push you into Noas proximity more.

Sorry! You can't ride with Soona, you have to be with Noa!

You had cooking duty with Anaya? Well, he actually isn't feeling good, so Noa will help you with tonight's meal.

Noa both hates and loves his friends for it, especially when you two grow closer.

He feels a sense of pride when he shows off his strength in front of you, biting back a smirk when he sees your eyes widen when he climbs. When he makes you laugh when he picks you up and swings you around.

Noa gets an ego the first time he protects you from an wild animal, obviously not while the threat is there, but when you cling to him and thank him profusely and you're so close, his brain is short circuiting and he feels like the strongest ape in the world.

He'll start to bring you back relics he's found on his trips, stuff ranging from books to jewelry to clothing he's found that are in salvageable condition.

"Noa! Where did you even find this?" You reach out to slap at his shoulder, staring down at the hoodie in your hand (it's slightly damp, Noa washing it to the best of his ability before gifting it to you).

"I have my ways." He's so smug. He knows you're gonna hug him in return, and it damn near makes him feral.

Eventually his courting is so blatant that everyone knows his intentions, all silently rooting for him.

Everyone knows, but you don't. And it makes him want to rip his fur out.

Noa thinks he couldn't be clearer. He feeds you, hunts and gathers for you, checks on you constantly, and follows you around when able.

He's even picked you wild flowers, something he has seen in one of the Echo books that 'boyfriends' would do.

He is fighting for his life, please, you can't be this dense.

#down bad noa is my canon and you can pry it from my cold dead fingers #teddy asks ♧#teddy loves apes ☆#noa x reader #noa #planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes noa #planet of the apes x reader #kotpota #pota

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jensengirl83 · 11 months ago

Text

At First You Don't Succeed

Dean x reader

Word Count-827

Warnings- language

Summary- Dean forgets the reader's birthday and he tries to make it up to her. But nothing he tries seems to go his way.

Y/N sat at the table in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. She was the first one awake, giving her some time alone and time to think. Dean had gotten back to the bunker very late and crashed. It had been a rough hunt, and she knew how those always seemed to take a toll on him. But she was still a little hurt. Yesterday had been her birthday, and he’d forgotten.

“Morning, babe,” Dean’s voice rang out in the empty room.

“Morning,” she mumbled, trying to hide the hurt in her tone.

“What’s up?” he asked, knowing something was wrong. She was never that short with him. Especially when he had just returned from being away for over a week.

“Nothin’. I’m good. Did you sleep well?”

He lifted his brow in concern and confusion. He knew she was lying him, but he didn’t know what, or who, had bothered her. That was until he glanced down at his phone after he had poured his coffee.

“Fuck!” he grumbled under his breath.

He’d missed her birthday.

“What?” she asked, hearing him mumble something.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, babe. Just stubbed my toe,” he answered quickly, hoping she didn’t know he was lying, “I, uh, I’m going to go clean my guns.”

He hastily made his way out of the kitchen before she could say anything. He didn’t want to get caught in his lie or see the look of disappointment on her face he knew would surely be there. He hated to make her sad or hurt her feelings, and he had done both for sure. He was going to make it up to her, beg her forgiveness, and hope they could salvage the day. What he didn’t know was nothing he had planned would work out in his favor at all.

He had tried running her bath after leaving the kitchen that morning, only to get distracted while looking something up on his phone and the entire bathroom flooded with the overdrawn tub. The second thing he’d tried that day was making her lunch and bringing it to her in bed. The lunch part had gone fine until he was three feet from the bed, dropping the plate and spilling the food all over the floor. The giggle that left Y/N had made him mad for a second, but he would keep trying.

Trying once again, he’d gone to buy her flowers. They didn’t have her favorites, so he grabbed a bouquet of ones he thought she would think was pretty. Yet again, that had blown up in his face when he brought them home to her, reaching from behind his back, a proud grin on his face, to learn that she was allergic to that type of flower. With a huff of defeat and annoyance, he left to try one more thing.

Y/N walked into the kitchen that evening, her jaw dropping at the hurricane of ingredients and utensils strewn around the room. It was a complete mess, but she couldn’t help but smile. Standing in the middle of the chaos was Dean, holding the cake he had made her. A shy smile on his face.

“Uh,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous, “I know it’s not pretty and it probably tastes like shit, but I tried. Hopefully this isn’t going to end like everything else I tried today.”

“Dean,” she sighed happily, walking over and cupping his face in her hands, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say perfect. I just hope you like it, sweetheart. And I’m sorry I forgot your birthday. I was just so tired from the hunt, and I just wanted to get home to you and…”

She interrupted him, crashing her lips to his, pulling away to look at him. Damn, how she loved this man. Yes, he forgot her birthday, but he always carried the world on his shoulders. She really couldn’t be mad that he forgot, considering he’d always remembered every other time. As she looked at him, the little smirk on his face, she began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a little miffed that she was laughing at his attempt to make her birthday up to her.

“I’m sorry, but Dean, you have to admit, all the failed attempts today are a little funny.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” he groaned, “I really tried to make it up to you, and nothing would go right.”

“Aww, babe. You did make it up to me. The fact that you tried that hard, whether it failed or not, shows me that you care. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Well, shit. If I knew that, I would’ve given up a long time ago,” he laughed when she swatted his arm, “Now, let’s eat this fugly ass cake, and then I’ll show you my last idea of how I’m going to make it up to you.”

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester

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kaleidoscopecth · 2 months ago

Text

Why Won’t You Love Me?

MDNI

paring: calum hood x reader

summary: your life is falling apart, and in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort in your chaotic world, you end up at the doorstep of one of your best friends.

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship with luke, mentions of substance abuse, mentions of rehab, weed usage, safe sex teehee, oral (f receiving), fluffy desperate sex, whimpery calum, slight body worship, angst for days, unrequited love

word count: 5.7k

a/n: this story is really nothing like the ones i have up before truthfully, it’s because it wasn’t meant to be published. i wrote this based on some of my own struggles, but i kinda love how it turned out. quick disclaimer, although i use peoples names in this fic, it’s not a reflection of who i think they are as people. this is all in good fun, not meant to be a serious attack on anybody’s character. anyways, enjoy.

as always, thank u to north for editing this ur the best 🫶

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You weren’t entirely sure why you had ended up at Calum’s doorstep. Your cheeks burned, chest tight with emotion as you hesitated, then rang the doorbell.

You had run circles around the idea in your head, knowing how complicated it would be to show up here. Calum was Luke’s best friend, his bandmate, and the last person you should’ve turned to. But the weight of everything—the withdrawal, the breakup, the utter mess your life had become—pushed you forward, even as doubt clawed at your resolve.

Would he even want to see you? Would he resent you for the way you ended things with Luke? You had wrestled with those questions all day, replaying every bitter moment of the breakup. You hadn’t meant to be so cruel. It wasn’t your intention to cut so deeply, but the withdrawal had stripped you of any semblance of patience or clarity.

And then, as soon as you were discharged from the hospital, you had gone running back to Luke. Desperate, aching, hoping to salvage what was left.

But then you saw them.

The door opened before you could spiral any further. Calum stood there, his brown eyes scanning you with a mixture of concern and surprise. “Y/N?” he asked, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips. “You’re still here?”

His smile brought you a fleeting sense of relief, though you had braced herself for rejection. After all, if Luke could hate you, why wouldn’t Calum? Your mind replayed the raw memory of Luke’s anger when you begged for his forgiveness. The sting of seeing him move on so quickly still lingered in your chest.

It had only been two weeks since your overdose, yet he was already in bed with someone else—Sierra, of all people. You had known from the moment her name flashed on his notifications that her intentions weren’t pure. And you’d been right.

“I’m leaving for rehab soon,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “And I don’t want to be alone on my last night.”

Calum’s expression darkened, his sadness unmistakable. Without hesitation, he reached out, taking your hand and pulling you inside.

You had managed to keep things normal between you after you had drunkenly hooked up last year, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the subtle shift. Calum’s gaze lingered too long whenever you were with Luke, his quiet, intense eyes studying you two with something unspoken and unreadable.

“Wanna go out to the terrace?” Calum asked, his voice soft, a faint smile on his lips.

You nodded, taking his hand as you stepped outside into the cool night air. The breeze was crisp, refreshing, and you relished it as a small reprieve from everything weighing you down.

You curled up on one of the couches, pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. Calum slipped back inside for a moment, returning with a rolling tray and a grinder in hand. You laughed lightly.

“I’m supposed to be sober, you know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“From oxy,” he countered, smirking as he sat down across from you. “Isn’t there a thing called ‘California sober’ or whatever?”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Shut up and roll the joint.”

Calum grinned and got to work, expertly grinding the weed and rolling a joint with practiced ease. He lit the end, taking a long, slow drag before passing it to you. You mirrored his action, inhaling deeply—too deeply—until you erupted into a coughing fit.

“At least I’ll get a decent high,” you wheezed, shaking your head with a small, rueful grin.

“So, rehab,” Calum said, his tone light but tinged with something else—sadness, maybe, or hesitation. His eyes followed yours, searching, as if trying to grasp what wasn’t being said.

You exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissolve into the night. “God, don’t remind me,” you muttered, taking another hit before leaning back against the cushions. “Some facility in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, Nebraska. Flight leaves tomorrow.”

The air grew heavy between you, filled with the distant sounds of the city below. You glanced over to find Calum watching you, his brows slightly furrowed.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally, his voice quiet, a casual shrug betraying the weight of his words. “But I guess I’ll see you after?”

Your chest tightened, the lump in your throat rising before you could stop it. You turned to look at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Cal,” you began, hesitating for a moment. “I’m moving to London when I get out.”

The words hung heavy in the cool air, their weight settling between you. Calum’s faint smile faded entirely, his expression faltering as your statement sank in.

There was enough space between you that no part of you touched, and for some reason, you hated that.

“You’re leaving?” he asked quietly, his gaze dropping to his shoes. “For good?”

You shook your head, your voice soft. “I’ll be back for filming and work stuff, but I won’t be living in L.A. anymore. I can’t.”

“Because of Luke and Sierra?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You flinched at the name, your stomach twisting with shame and anger. Every mention of Sierra made you feel small, like a fool for ever trusting Luke.

Luke had lied about everything—about seeing Arzaylea before coming to your apartment and claiming to be in love with you, about Sierra, about all of it. If you hadn’t stumbled into his apartment and seen the truth for yourself, you might have still been in the dark.

“Sure,” you sighed, brushing the thought aside. “And my family will be closer. They want to help me stay sober.”

“I could help you.” Calum’s voice was firm, his gaze locked on yours, determined.

Your heart skipped at his words, and unbidden memories of your moments together flashed in your mind—the way you’d gone from indifference to friendship, to that one night that had blurred every line. He’d insisted it remain a one-time thing, but that never stopped him from touching your shoulder softly, or smiling at you like you were the only thing that made the world spin right.

“Cal… no,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t expect that of you.”

A beat of silence passed, heavy and fraught. Then, barely audible, he said, “I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t flinch. You weren't surprised, not really. A sad smile tugged at your lips as you exhaled. “I know,” you murmured. “But this—” you gestured between the two of you, your voice faltering. “How could this ever work?”

He shrugged, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Luke started screwing Sierra despite the fact that she and Ashton had a thing before. It’s not like this would be new territory for us.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “But it’s new for me.”

“So this is it, then? Our goodbye?” Calum’s voice cracked, anger and defeat mingling as his broad shoulders slumped.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him, but your hands stayed firmly at your sides. A fleeting, reckless thought bloomed in the back of your mind—a glimpse of a life where you could stay, where you could fall asleep next to the boy with warm brown eyes and wake up to him every morning, never feeling the ache of leaving again.

Your throat tightened, the words heavy on your tongue. “I can’t say I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of your truth. “But, God, I wish I could.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken longing, a current of electricity passing between your gazes. Calum’s brows furrowed as he took a hesitant step closer, his eyes glimmering with equal parts hurt and hope. “Why not?” he asked softly, his voice trembling.

“Because it’s Luke,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice cracked under the weight of your confession. “You have no idea how badly I wish it could be you. That I could have you in my head every second of every day instead of him. You’ve never hurt me. You love me wholly. You’d never put that love at risk.”

“Then let me be the one in your head,” he pleaded, his voice low and desperate. “Just for tonight.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled in your chest. You looked at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was leaning toward you now, his eyes searching yours, desperate.

“Is that really what you want?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“Please, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Let me say goodbye the way I want to.”

Your mouth went dry, and you weren't sure if it was from the weed or the way Calum was looking at you. The idea—the possibility—was strangely appealing.

“Okay,” you breathed.

Slowly, you moved toward him, swinging one leg over his lap to straddle him. You stared at each other for a heartbeat, your hands gently cupping his cold cheeks.

He leaned in first, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed yours, soft and tentative.

The second you registered the kiss, all of your composure unraveled. You sighed against his lips, threading your fingers into his curly hair as the kiss deepened with a fervor that surprised you. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer.

Without breaking the kiss, Calum stood, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you as though you were the only thing grounding him.

He carried you inside with steady determination, the world around you blurring into insignificance. When you finally reached his room, Calum kicked the door shut behind you. The soft rattle set off Duke, who began barking incessantly from somewhere down the hall.

You couldn't help but laugh against his lips, the sound breaking the tension for a moment. Calum pulled back slightly after setting you down in the bed, chuckling as well.

“Duke, calm down,” he called out, his voice amused but firm. Then, turning back to you, a playful smile tugged at his lips. “He always acts up when he knows there's something I want.”

“And what is it that you want?” you whispered, your voice low and teasing as your hands slipped beneath his shirt, your fingers trailing along the hard ridges of his stomach.

Calum's response came in the form of another kiss, deeper and more urgent this time. “You,” he murmured against your lips.

The kiss intensified, your lips moving with a quiet desperation that made your heart race and your stomach flutter. Calum's hands roamed your sides with deliberate care, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.

You matched his fervor, your hands trembling as you tugged at his shirt. This felt different—more intense, more intimate—than the last time. There hadn’t been much hesitation then, just two people driven by pure need, but now, you could feel a semblance of giddy awkwardness in the air.

Calum pulled back just enough to shrug off his shirt, the fabric falling carelessly to the floor. His hands immediately found your face, cupping your cheeks as he brought your lips back to his.

Your hands moved across his bare skin, tracing the curve of his muscles, the lines of his tattoos— a detail you had committed to memory. You tugged him down with you, but he stopped, pulling away slightly with a small smirk.

“Nuh-uh,” he teased, his lips brushing yours. “Your shirt's coming off too, Y/N.”

“Then take it off,” you challenged, your voice breathless and filled with need. “Take everything off. I need you.”

Calum's eyes darkened, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and with one swift motion, he pulled it over your head, tossing it aside. One hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you close as his lips claimed yours again.

The other hand moved skillfully to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease. The garment slipped away, leaving you bare beneath his touch. Calum's lips moved to your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your skin, his hands sliding down your back and pulling you closer.

His mouth trailed down to your collarbone, grazing the delicate skin with soft nips that made you gasp. Slowly, his lips descended to your chest, capturing your nipple in his mouth with a deliberate tenderness. You let out a quiet moan, your hands tangling in Calum's hair as your eyelids fluttered shut, your breath hitching at the sensation.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Calum groaned against your skin, his voice filled with awe and desire. His eyes lifted to meet yours, darkened with longing, his pupils blown wide. Slowly, he kissed his way back up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss there before nudging his nose against yours in an intimate gesture that made your chest ache.

But then it hit you—a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you, sharp and cold. What were you doing? Were you just using him? Using his kindness, his patience, and the way he cared about you, all because you didn't want to feel alone? Your body tensed, and you froze, pushing him away slightly.

Calum immediately pulled back, concern flooding his features as his hands cupped your face. “What is it?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes darting across his face, searching for something—anything—that might tell you he wasn't as sure about this as he claimed. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked hesitantly. “I mean, I can't—I can't give you what you want, Cal. I won't even be here most of the time, and—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. “Stop. I want this. I want you.”

Your heart clenched, but you still hesitated, guilt and uncertainty gnawing at you. “Cal, I—”

“Please,” he whispered, his voice dropping to something raw and vulnerable. “Let me have this. Let me have tonight. Just... just let me. Let me give you a proper goodbye. Let me give us a proper goodbye.”

His words hung between you, heavy with longing and unspoken emotion. Your breath hitched, your resolve faltering as you looked into his eyes. There was no hesitation there, no doubt—only a fierce, aching need for you. “Would you let me?” His lips brushed against yours ever so carefully. “Please let me.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, swallowing down your fears, worries, and the ache in your chest.

Calum's smile was soft yet radiant, a quiet reassurance that melted some of your hesitation. You could feel him smiling against your lips as he kissed you again, and before you realized it, your own lips curved into a matching smile. His hands roamed your body with reverence, each touch gentle and deliberate, as if you were something sacred.

With practiced care, he began unbuttoning your jeans, his lips trailing away from your mouth to press heated kisses down your jawline. He lingered near your earlobe, nipping it lightly, and you let out a small, contented sigh. Your hips rose instinctively, allowing him to tug the denim down your legs in one smooth motion.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “You have no idea how long l've been waiting for this.” His mouth found yours again, urgent and insistent, his hips pressing down against your thigh while his fingers trailed lightly down your chest, making you shiver. His lips wandered back to your breasts, lingering there with soft kisses and teasing bites that made you gasp.

“What do you want, Calum?” you gasped, your hips bucking upward, seeking friction with an urgency that made your voice crack. “Tell me.”

When he lifted his gaze to meet yours, the intensity in his eyes stole your breath. They were dark, glazed over, and filled with raw need. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, as though the world could crumble around you and he wouldn't care. “I want to touch you,” he murmured, his voice rough, the words muffled by the kisses he pressed down your sternum.

“Then touch me, baby,” you urged, your fingers threading through the damp curls on his forehead, pushing them back. Your tone was soft, but your words were charged, dripping with encouragement. “Make me feel so good.”

The soft groan that escaped his lips felt almost involuntary, a raw reaction to your words. It sent a shiver through you, straight to your core. His hand slipped beneath your underwear, his fingers finding your clit with precision. He moved in slow, deliberate circles, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

When his fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, he froze for a moment, as though savoring the sensation. Feeling how ready you were for him, he let out a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice heavy with awe, every word tinged with disbelief. “You're already so wet. Fuck, Y/N... you're perfect.”

His words sent heat rushing through you, your back arching as your body responded to his touch. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to spill, but the way he touched you, slow and deliberate yet filled with need, made it impossible.

He didn't wait, slipping a finger inside you with ease, watching your reaction with rapt attention.

You let out a sharp cry, your back arching instinctively as pleasure shot through you. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your fingers threading tighter through Calum's hair, holding him close. “Just like that, baby.”

Calum moved with deliberate care, curling his finger inside you, his steady rhythm coaxing soft, breathless moans from your lips.

Every movement seemed calculated to draw you closer to the edge, yet it was laced with tenderness that left you dizzy. The way your body responded to his touch had his lips parting, his breath hitching in admiration as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

“That feels so good,” you sighed, your voice trembling as your nails lightly scraped the nape of his neck. “You're doing so good.”

Your praise sent a shiver through him, and his eyes darkened further, his pupils blown wide with desire. His breath came faster, his hips rutting against you involuntarily as though he needed you even more than you needed him. “You sound so pretty,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with reverence, though there was an edge of desperation to it, almost a whine. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You pulled at his hair, your eyes falling shut in bliss. Calum was working his fingers at a steady pace, moaning as if he too was the one getting off. The fact that he was so worked up by the mere fact that he’d been touching you made a wave of heat rush down your body.

His lips kissed down your torso, leaving no mark of your skin unkissed. “I need to taste you,” he gasped, continuing to inch down your body. He was shaking with anticipation, fingers never faltering. “You’re so wet and so pretty, and it’s all for me. I did that to you.”

You nodded rapidly, another moan falling from your lips. “Need your mouth on me,” Calum’s breath hitched at your words, his kisses down your body growing more sloppy by the second. He didn’t waste any time in pushing your legs open, taking deliberate care to suck at the skin of your hipbone.

You propped yourself on your elbows, watching through half lidded eyes as Calum finally pressed a small kiss to your inner thigh. Already fed up, you let out a frustrated mewl. “Cal, please.”

Calum’s entire body shuddered, and you saw the way his eyes widened momentarily before his mouth latched on to your clit. He let out a moan against you when the taste of you overwhelmed his senses, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes essentially rolled back into his head.

“You’re so dreamy like this,” you gasped, his lips sucking at your sensitive bud enough to make your legs shake around his head. “You make me feel so good— oh, fuck, just like that.”

Calum let out a shaky whine, his hips grinding involuntarily against the mattress as he looked up at you, his wide, awe-filled eyes glistening with unspoken devotion. His movements were uncoordinated, almost frantic, as though he was utterly consumed by you, his tongue lapping and sucking at your clit with an intensity so raw it sent shockwaves through your trembling legs.

“You taste so good,” he panted, his voice unsteady and reverent between his breathless licks. “Your thighs are shaking— fuck, I did that to you. I made you feel like this.”

You bit your lip hard, your eyes squeezing shut as the tidal wave of sensation crashed through you. Every nerve in your body felt alive, strung out on the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Calum's hands wandered your torso with a desperation that bordered on worship, gripping your skin tightly, as if grounding himself in the reality of you.

Stars burst behind your eyelids as your body arched into his touch, the sensation cresting to an unbearable peak. The sight of him—his flushed cheeks, his lips glistening with you, his pupils blown wide with adoration—was almost too much. You needed more, needed him closer, needed all of him.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers gently in his curls, tugging him away from your overstimulated clit. Calum let out a soft, almost pitiful moan of protest, his lips brushing against your skin as though he couldn't bear to let go. Still, he obeyed, letting you guide him back up your body, his warm breath fanning over your skin with each ragged inhale.

Your lips met in a kiss so heated it left you dizzy, your mouths colliding with a fervent need that neither could deny. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of how completely Calum had given himself to you. The realization sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

Calum let out a broken whimper against your lips, his whole body trembling as though he was barely holding himself together. “Y/N,” he choked out, his voice laced with desperation, his breath coming in shallow pants. “I need you. I need all of you. Please. I don't know how much longer I can wait.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded in your chest as you looked into his wide, awe-stricken eyes. His pupils were blown with need, his lips slightly parted as he hovered over you, waiting for permission like his entire world depended on your answer.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, pulling him down into another kiss that was all heat and urgency. “Don't wait anymore. Just fuck me.”

Calum let out a soft, broken sound, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he nodded, his curls tickling your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips trailing down your neck with a desperation that made your body ache for him even more.

When he sucked hard enough to leave a mark, you arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair, too far gone to care about anything else.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice raw and shaking as his hands roamed your body, both frantic and reverent, like he couldn't touch enough of you at once. “You don't understand. I'd do anything for you. Anything. Just say the word.”

Your breath hitched at the sheer devotion in his voice, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. You swallowed hard, your hands moving to cradle his face as you met his gaze. “I just need you inside me right now,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you.

You watched as Calum reached over to his bedside table, pulling out a condom and hardly ripping the packet open with his teeth. Your eyes followed his movements as he rolled the rubber down in his length. Calum let out a shuddering breath, his hands trembling as he positioned himself between your thighs. He hesitated, his gaze flickering up to yours as if silently asking for reassurance. You cupped his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek with a tenderness that made his breath hitch.

“C’mon baby,” you gasped.

With a shaky nod, he sank into you slowly as though he never wanted the moment to end. A whimper escaped Calum’s lips, a sound so deep and guttural that it made you moan. Your nails sank into his back, and Calum’s head fell forward against your shoulder.

Calum was trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice tight with strain, barely holding himself together. “I never want this to end.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, the intensity of the moment washing over you as you felt him stretch you in ways that made you gasp.

When he began to move, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, and Calum froze instantly, his entire body going rigid. His head snapped up, wide eyes filled with concern as they searched your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent, laced with worry.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly as you forced yourself to take a steadying breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice airy, cheeks flushed. “It's just... it's been a while, and... you're kinda big.”

For a moment, there was silence, and then Calum let out a soft, startled laugh. The sound was rich and genuine, shaking his entire body as the tension melted from his face. His amusement was contagious, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing with him, the shared moment easing the intensity between you.

Still smiling, you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging him closer until his forehead rested gently against yours. Your laughter softened into quiet breaths, your noses brushing as you lingered in the intimacy of the moment.

“You can move,” you whispered, your voice steady now, laced with trust and anticipation.

Calum exhaled deeply, his eyes darkening with emotion as he nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before he began to move again. This time, his movements were slow and deliberate, his focus entirely on you, his body attuned to yours as you fell into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.

You cried out his name again, your nails digging into his back as your legs tightened around his waist. Calum's movements grew more purposeful, his hips snapping against yours with a need that was almost overwhelming. His eyes never left your face, drinking in every gasp and moan as if they were the only sounds in the world.

“You're so perfect,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. He leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in a tender kiss that contrasted sharply with the intensity of his thrusts. “I don't know how I can-fuck, you feel so good. So perfect, Y/N.”

Your body arched beneath him when he shifted slightly, thrusting deeper and hitting the spot that made your toes curl. A sharp cry tore from your throat, your body trembling from the intensity. “You're doing so good,” you gasped, your praise deliberate as you ran your hands down his sweat-slicked back. “You fuck me so good, Calum. Just like that, baby.”

Calum let out a broken moan, his head dropping against your shoulder as your words seemed to ignite something in him. His hips moved faster now, each thrust harder than the last, as if he was trying to lose himself entirely in you. His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He hesitated for only a moment before pressing against it, rubbing fast, precise circles that made your breath hitch.

“You're amazing,” he panted, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. His voice was wrecked, thick with desperation and adoration. “I just want to make you feel good. Tell me I'm doing it right. Please.”

You let out a whimper, your body seemingly on fire with the intensity of the pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his curls, muttering unintelligible encouragement under your breath. You looked at him, the way his cheeks were flushed with the exertion and desire, and you gave him a breathless smile. “You’re going so good, Cal,” you moaned. “I’m so close.”

Calum’s movements were erratic and eager, desperate to feel you come undone beneath him. His hips stuttered as he tried to maintain the rhythm that had you falling apart beneath him. He was panting hard, moaning your name in breathless pleas. Your nails raked down his back, only spurring Calum on.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his fingers continuing their assault on your clit that made your legs shake uncontrollably. “Please, I need you to come for me. God, I need to feel you clench around me— please baby, fuck. Come on my cock, I can’t hold on much longer.”

Your breath hitched, eyelids fluttering close as you felt the familiar coil begin to tighten in your belly. Sweat was building up on your skin, but you didn’t mind. “Calum— oh my God, please don’t stop.” The combination of his desperation, his eagerness to make you feel good, and the relentless pace of his hips and fingers sent you over the edge.

You came with a loud cry, your lips shaping Calum’s name, your thighs shaking as another shattered moan escaped you. Your vision blurred, your nails digging into Calum’s back as you clung to him, peppering his shoulder with kisses.

“Oh fuck,” Calum groaned, his voice strained with desperation. “You look so pretty falling apart for me, making all my dreams come true.” His thrusts became erratic and messy as he chased his release, his hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

“Y/N, I'm gonna—” His sentence broke off into a loud whimper, his face burying into the crook of your neck as he feverishly kissed your damp skin.

“Come for me, baby,” you panted, your voice thick with pleasure as your fingers trailed up and down his back before gripping his biceps for support. “You did so good, made me feel so good. Let go for me.”

His body shuddered violently, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he spilled into the condom with a raw, guttural cry. He whispered your name like a prayer, his voice trembling as aftershocks wracked his body.

Shallow, instinctive thrusts carried him through his orgasm, his movements slowly stilling as the tension drained from him.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing. Your bodies were pressed together, skin slick with sweat, and the weight of him above you was grounding, comforting in a way neither of you could fully explain.

Calum finally pulled away with a soft sigh, rolling off you carefully. His hands were gentle as he removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trash can by the bed. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your gaze tracing the sharp contours of his body, the way the moonlight filtered through the window and illuminated his tattoos in a soft, ethereal glow.

You knew Calum was beautiful—you always had, even when he’d been less than kind to you. But now, there was something different about him, something raw and desperate. You wondered how they had gone from mutual animosity to Calum being so deeply in love with you that he would settle for just one night of your pretending.

But were you pretending?

The thought lingered in your mind, heavy and uncertain.

“You're beautiful, you know that?” you murmured, your voice quiet but full of admiration as your eyes lingered on him.

Calum turned to face you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispered against your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone and then the outline of your lips as though memorizing every detail. Your eyes stayed locked on his, searching for something you couldn’t quite name.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with exhaustion and something softer—hope. “Your flight leaves tomorrow. Just stay the night. I’ll take you there.”

You frowned, your hand instinctively coming to cover his. You didn’t answer immediately, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. This night had been one of the best you’d had in a long time, a reprieve from the chaos in your mind. And yet, that knowledge brought an ache you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Calum…” you hesitated, your voice softer now, almost unsure. “I don’t know if I should.”

His hand tightened gently against yours as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it stole the air from your lungs. His palm moved to the back of your neck, his touch reverent, urging you closer. Your bare chests pressed together, his other hand settling at the small of your back, anchoring you to him.

When he pulled away, the weight of reality sank between you. You were leaving—leaving this moment, leaving him—and as terrifying as the thought was, it also carried a bittersweet freedom. Leaving Calum meant leaving behind the pain Luke had caused, a fresh start that felt both liberating and heartbreaking.

“Please,” he whispered against your lips, his voice fragile, each word carrying the weight of his longing. He held his breath, his eyes searching yours for even the smallest trace of hope.

You bit your lip, the turmoil in your chest almost too much to bear. You knew what you should do, but you also knew what you wanted—at least for now.

“I’ll stay,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “Just for tonight.”

Calum exhaled softly, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as relief washed over his features. For now, it was enough. Just tonight, it could be enough.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

i hope you guys enjoyed, and if you sent in a request just know that i saw it and i’m working on it! there are many writing projects that i’ve been juggling so i’m sorry in advance if it takes a little long for it to be posted <33

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