#so I wanted to do something with it before it overwhelmed me

[monstersholygrail]

In a Free Use City, your knowledge on the subject of your job isn’t always what’s most important. And in your case, it’s the least important. You were actually known as quite a ditz in the Free Use City Offices.

You worked in the tech department surrounded by a bunch of hot and nerdy guys who spoke in yours you couldn’t even begin to understand. You were just happy to be there and they were happy to ogle you and press against you whenever you asked for their help with any simple task.

They thought they had the upper hand on you, thinking they were so clever. But you had them all on a leash. An entire department at your disposal to give you pleasure whenever you wanted.

Your favorite man to bother was IT Robot. He got his work done fast and spent the rest of the day goofing off. The easy air around him made him approachable and the way all his shirts fit snugly against his bulging pecs made you drip with need.

You can’t help but spare him another glance before hesitantly returning your gaze to your own computer, the screen filled with the program you still haven’t figured out. Great, now you were confused and horny.

“Need me for something?” IT Robot’s voice suddenly purrs into your ears. His steel-like grip grabbing onto your plush hips and pulling you back into his hard chest.

His body molds to yours so perfectly it has you tingling all over. Arousal gushing and soaking through your panties. He turns you on so bad even when he barely did anything but it was like your body was out of control. As if it could be programmed just for him when he was the robot.

“Help… I hurt,” you say with a pout, your mind turning to complete mush whenever you’re around him.

IT Robot flashes you with that charming lopsided smile of his, heavily amused by the puddle you melt into whenever he talks to you.

“Where does it hurt, huh? It hurt here?”

He caresses your soft belly with an appreciation that borders on worship before one hand slips beneath your skirt, nuzzling his fingers between your soaked folds.

“Or here?” He asks while the other gives a little pat on your head.

A low whine escapes your lips as he rolls his fingers over your clit, your hips jerking into the touch. And that’s all it takes to have IT Robot plunging three of his fingers deep into your cunt, making you gasp and tremble in his arms.

“That’s what I thought… Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll fix the issue right away. It’s what I do after all.”

Your vision blurs as you dive into the pleasure head first. Choking out harsh moans as IT Robot’s fingers move inside you with precision like he has an entire map of your pretty pussy printed in his head. His fingers move in a blur as they pump themselves inside you, hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars. Each curl of his fingers sends your pussy fluttering and clenching down around him.

“Squeeze me tight, honey, ngh c’mon! Don’t think about a thing, just focus on being my pretty baby. My good girl.”

His words send the last thoughts in your head flying out the window, reducing you to nothing but his perfect little fuck toy. Your body relaxes without having to worry about a thing, allowing the ecstasy to overwhelm you.

IT Robot chuckles again as that fucked out expression fills your features. He flattens his palm so that it rubs hard against your clit with every snap of his fingers. With a few quick movements it has you falling over the edge and exploding all over his hand. Your vision flashes white as your orgasm rolls through you and you can’t find the strength to move any of your limbs after.

But that’s alright, IT Robot will take care of you, his fingers slipping out of your pulsing cunt with a pop, and giving your temple a soft kiss. He doesn’t bother cleaning up his hand dripping with your cum as he starts typing on your computer, solving the issue with the program you were using, and successfully helping you with both your aches.

“There, there. I’ve got you, pretty. Just keep feelin’ good. All because of me,” he whispers in your ear. Planning to spend the rest of the day doing all your work for you.

[greengoblinswifey]

Sweet Revenge—Salesman x Fem!Reader

summary— A heated argument with the salesman, the smug Squid Game recruiter, turns into a rough and unexpected night of fucking, leaving you questioning your entire life choices.

warnings— enemies to lovers, arguing, fingering, degradation, praise kink, face slapping, choking, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight aftercare.

The knock on the hotel door was loud and sharp. The Salesman, ever composed, adjusted his tie before opening it, expecting room service instead, he found you.

You stood there, furious, with a fire in your eyes that caught him off guard. “You didn’t think I’d fucking find you, did you?” you spat, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He closed the door calmly, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what brought you here.”

“You know exactly why I’m here,” you hissed, looking up at him. “You ruined lives. Mine included. I want answers.”

He tilted his head, his expression as unreadable as usual. “I gave you a choice, didn’t I? Everyone who plays has a choice.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You knew what you were doing. You preyed on desperate people. And now, you’re going to pay for it,” you snapped, hands clenched into fists.

His laugh was low and soft, infuriatingly amused. “And how exactly do you plan to make me pay?”

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “B-by holding you accountable,” you managed, though your voice wavered.

“If that’s what you want, then go ahead. But something tells me this isn’t just about revenge,” he leaned down, his voice a murmur.

You hated how his confidence pissed you off, how his piercing gaze seemed to strip you naked. You hated how cocky he was.

“Stop fucking playing games,” you demanded.

“But sweetheart, games are what I do best,” he replied, his smirk deepening. “Tell me, are you here to hurt me or for something else?”

You hated him. You hated his arrogance, his calm demeanor, the way he seemed untouchable. But more than that, you hated the way he looked at you, like he knew exactly how much power he had over you.

“Shut up,” you snapped, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to your level. His eyes widened just slightly before his smirk returned. “No more games. No more excuses. You don’t get to control this anymore.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider your words. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the space between you, his lips capturing yours. It was fierce and unrelenting, a battle for control neither of you wanted to lose. You shoved him back, your chest heaving as you glared at him. “You think this fixes everything?”

“No,” he said, his eyes darkening. “But I think you’re acting like a bitch because you haven’t been properly fucked.”

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as your resistance faltered. You hated him, truly, deeply hated him. But your body betrayed you, melting into his touch, craving more of what you couldn’t admit you wanted.

The kiss was so hot, igniting a storm of emotions you couldn’t tame. His lips moved against yours with a roughness that made your head spin. You pressed closer, your fingers tangling in his neatly styled hair, ruining the composure he seemed to hold onto so tightly.

But he wasn’t just kissing you, the asshole was claiming you. His hands roamed with purpose, sliding down your back before gripping your ass firmly. Then, his fingers hiked your dress higher.

The sound of fabric tearing ripped through the air, and you gasped, pulling back just enough to glare at him. “What the fuck?”

He smirked, holding up the remnants of your thong like a trophy. “Who did you wear this for?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, your voice trembling with frustration and something else.

“Oh, I see,” he murmured, leaning closer. “You wore it for me, didn’t you? My desperate little slut couldn’t help herself.”

Before you could retort, his hand slid between your thighs, rough fingers finding your pussy. You gasped again, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he thrust two fingers inside without warning.

“Motherfuck—”

“Quiet,” he commanded, his. “You’ll take what I give you like the slut you are. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His fingers moved in sharp, unrelenting thrusts, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. “You’re such a mess,” he taunted, his other hand gripping your throat to make you look at him. “All this attitude, and for what? You’ve been waiting for me to just ruin you, haven’t you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but your body betrayed you, drenching his fingers and fluttering around them. He chuckled, clearly pleased by your reaction.

“Come on,” he taunted, his thrusts quickening. “Let me hear you say it slut. Tell me how badly you wanted this.”

“Fuck, I—” your words broke with a moan, unable to fight the pleasure building inside you.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fine!” you cried out, your resolve crumbling. “I wanted it, okay? I wanted this!”

“Good girl,” he murmured, a satisfied smirk on his face. His fingers moved impossibly faster, pushing you right to the brink. “Now, don’t hold back. Let me see you cum.”

And unfortunately, you did. Your body shook as the coil snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over you. He didn’t stop, drawing out every last tremor until you were left trembling in his arms.

When you finally caught your breath, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your neck. “That’s my good fucking slut,” he whispered.

You lifted your palm and the moment your hand connected with his face, the sound of the slap echoed in the room. His head tilted slightly from the force, but the reaction wasn’t what you expected. The salesman didn’t look angry. Nah, he looked, amused?

A dark chuckle left his lips, and his gaze locked with yours, sharp. “Again,” he said, his voice taunting.

Your chest heaved with frustration, your fingers trembling, but you raised your hand and slapped him again. This time, the impact left a faint flush on his cheek. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he smirked, that expression driving you to the edge.

“Feel better now?” he teased, his tone filled with mockery.

“Go to hell,” you spat, but before you could say more, he grabbed your wrist and spun you around with little effort.

“Careful,” he murmured against your ear as he pushed you onto the bed, your stomach pressing into the mattress. His weight settled over you, keeping you firmly in place. “You might make me think you enjoy this.”

Your breath hitched as you felt the press of his bulge against you. The sound of his belt unbuckling sent a jolt of anticipation through your body, though you refused to let him see it.

“Don’t even,” you warned, your voice trembling as you turned your head slightly to glare at him.

“Still talking back,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “I’m going to ruin that little pussy of yours.”

“You’re so full of—”

Before you could finish, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “Go ahead,” he growled. “Say something else. Curse me out. I love it”

“Fuck you jackass,” you hissed, trying to wriggle free, but his grip only tightened.

“Good girl,” he mocked, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’re so predictable. So easy to rile up. But I know what you really want.”

“You don’t know anything,” you snapped, but your defiance faltered when he pushed against you harder, his body flush against yours.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “Is it fear or excitement? Maybe both?”

Your heart raced and you shuddered as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. You and I both know this is exactly what you were begging for.”

He didn’t wait any longer. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you back on his hard cock as he pushed forward. The sound of his sharp intake of breath filled the air as he settled into a rhythm, steady at first but quickly turning into thrusts that were rough and relentless.

“You fucking feel that?” he murmured. “This is what your little pussy has been begging for, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into the bedsheets. “I—” you tried to protest, but the words stuck in your throat as he fucked you faster, each thrust sending a spark of pleasure up your spine.

“You can’t even speak,” he mocked, a dark chuckle vibrating against the back of your neck as he leaned down. “What happened to all that attitude, huh?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, but the way he pounded you, relentless, purposeful, was breaking you down.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin making you shiver. “You’re not in charge anymore. You’re mine. My slut.”

Your defiance wavered as a moan slipped from your lips, louder than you intended. His hand slid around your waist, pressing against your lower stomach, holding you steady as he angled his cock deeper.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. Taking my dick so well.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the pleasure overwhelming as he kept his pace steady but unforgiving. “F-fuck,” you breathed, your voice shaking.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear. “You want more? Say it.”

Your pride battled with your desire, but the way he stretched your pussy, the way he spoke to you, it was too much. “Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “Harder.”

“I didn’t hear you,” he said, a smirk evident in his voice.

“Harder!” you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets as he complied, his thrusts turning harder, deeper.

“There she is,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his free hand tangling in your curls. “That’s my slut. So pretty like this, falling apart for me.”

“I—I can’t!” you cried, your body betrayed you, your legs trembling as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Yes, you can,” he encouraged, his tone softening just slightly. “Give it to me. I want to feel you cum.”

And then it happened. A surge of bliss so overwhelming it left you a moaning mess, your body trembling beneath him as you soaked the sheets and his cock. He moaned deeply, his movements faltering as he chased his own orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and breathless as he kissed the back of your neck, holding you close as he came, ropes and ropes of his cum spilling into you.

The room fell silent except for the sound of your ragged breaths, and as he finally emptied every drop of cum in you, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You were perfect,” he murmured, his hand stroking your back as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

What the hell had just happened? What did you just do? You’d crossed a line, broke a boundary you didn’t even realize existed until now.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice filled with embarrassment and disbelief.

The salesman only chuckled as his fingers gently traced circles along your bare skin. “That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago,” he teased.

You scoffed, covering your face with your hands as if that would erase what just happened, or his cum still swirling in your pussy. “Oh my God,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “What the fuck did I just do?”

He pulled back slightly to turn you toward him. His eyes were dark but warm, his smirk still in place as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You lived a little,” he said, his voice gentler now. “And let me tell you—you can take dick.”

You glared at him, though the effect was dulled by the way your body heated up. “Shut up,” you snapped, shoving at his chest weakly.

He only laughed, pulling you tighter against him. “You’ll thank me later,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You lay there in his arms, your mind racing as the reality of what just happened settled over you. How had you let this happen? How had he managed to get under your skin like this? The weight of what you’d just done was impossible to ignore, but as he held you close, his steady presence and casual confidence made it hard to fully regret it, no matter how much you wanted to.

[kdyq]

The arrival of Amara.

Part four of this series.

context the birth of you and Ambessa baby.

Life had settled into a quiet rhythm though it was clear you were both waiting for the storm of change to come. Ambessa was careful in her preparations overseeing every detail of the nursery and ensuring the household was ready for the arrival of your daughter.

Now on an otherwise calm morning “The storm”had arrived.

It started with a strange heaviness in your body one that made walking the length of the garden feel more like a journey across Noxus itself. Ambessa walked beside you her hand firmly on the small of your back. Her touch was a reassuring constant though her watchful gaze told you she was already on high alert.

“You’re slowing down love” she said gently leaning down slightly so her voice was close to your ear. “Do you need to sit?”

You shook your head though your legs wobbled slightly under you. “I’m okay. Just… tired. My back feels different today.”

Ambessa’s brow furrowed her lips pressing into a thin line. “Different how?”

“Like… more pressure. And it keeps coming and going.”

Her hand shifted to your side her strong fingers pressing gently against the muscles there. “Let’s go back to the house. I’d rather not take any chances.”

Though you wanted to protest a particularly sharp twinge made you nod in agreement. As you walked Ambessa kept her hand on your back her steady presence helping you through each step.

By the time you reached the grand hall the discomfort had turned into something more intense. You paused mid-step clutching a nearby chair as a wave of pain gripped you.

Ambessa was at your side instantly her large hands encircling your waist. “What’s happening? Talk to me.”

You winced breathing through the pain. “It’s… sharper now. Like something’s about to—”

Before you could finish a sudden warmth spread down your legs. You gasped your eyes wide as you looked down.

Ambessa followed your gaze her golden eyes widening slightly. “Your water just broke” she said her voice steady but tinged with urgency.

A mix of panic and excitement filled you. “What do we do? Ambessa—”

She cupped your face her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “We breathe and we move. I’ve got you love. You’re not alone in this.”

The bathing chamber was already prepared when you arrived thanks to the servants and midwives who worked quickly to ready the space. The warm water steamed invitingly the room dimly lit by candles.

Ambessa helped you undress her hands careful and deliberate as she removed each layer of clothing. “You’re safe” she murmured her voice low and soothing. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Once in the water the warmth helped ease some of the pain though the contractions continued to intensify. Ambessa sat at the edge of the pool her hand resting on your shoulder as you leaned against the side.

“You’re doing beautifully” she said her voice soft but firm.

You shot her a look your breath hitching as another contraction hit. “It doesn’t feel beautiful” you muttered through gritted teeth.

Ambessa chuckled softly brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “It doesn’t have to feel beautiful to be beautiful.”

Hours passed the labor progressing slowly. Ambessa was a constant presence her deep voice guiding you through each contraction. When the pain became overwhelming she climbed into the water behind you her strong arms wrapping around your middle.

“Lean on me” she said pressing a kiss to your temple. “Feel my breath and match it.”

When the next contraction came you tried to follow her lead but the pain made you snap. “I am breathing Ambessa!” you shouted your voice cracking. “Can’t you tell?!”

For a moment the room went silent the weight of your outburst hanging in the air. Then Ambessa’s arms tightened around you her voice softening. “I know love. I know. You’re doing everything right. I’m sorry I just want to help.”

Your chest heaved with a mix of exhaustion and guilt. Turning your head slightly you whispered “I’m sorry my love. I didn’t mean—”

She pressed her lips to your hair silencing you. “No apologies. You’re in the fight of your life right now and I’m honored to be here with you.”

When the midwives announced it was time to push Ambessa moved to hold one of your legs her large hand steadying you as you bore down.

“You’re almost there” she said her voice firm yet filled with emotion. “Just one more push love. You’ve got this.”

With a final desperate effort you felt the release as your daughter entered the world. The midwife lifted her from the water her strong cries echoing through the chamber.

Ambessa’s face transformed her usual stern look was replaced by raw emotion. Tears welled in her golden eyes as she stared at the tiny life you had brought into the world.

“She’s here” you whispered your voice trembling as the midwife placed the baby on your chest.

Ambessa kissed you on the head and smiled as she reached out a trembling hand to touch Amara’s tiny fingers. “She’s… incredible” she murmured her voice thick with emotion.

You looked up at her tears streaming down your face. “She looks like you.”

Ambessa chuckled softly brushing a finger over Amara’s cheek. “She’s perfect. Just like her mother.”

Later after being cleaned and dressed you lay in bed with Amara nestled between you and Ambessa. The room was quiet the soft glow of the fire casting shadows on the walls.

“She’s so long” you said marveling at her tiny form.

Ambessa smirked her hand gently tracing one of Amara’s legs. “She takes after me” she said proudly.

You laughed softly leaning into her side. “She’s going to grow up tall and strong just like her mama.”

Ambessa pressed a kiss to your forehead then to Amara’s. “She’ll have the best of both of us” she said quietly.

As the three of you lay there wrapped in warmth and love Ambessa whispered “Thank you my love. For her. For this. For everything.”

Tears filled your eyes as you rested your head against her shoulder. “We did this together” you said softly.

And as the first light of dawn filled the room you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be with the two people who made your world complete.

AN/ omgggg I hope you all enjoyed it the story and yes I will be continuing the series I feel like this is such a good series so I will keep making different stories that go along with this storyline while also making stories with no storyline so yay 🎀

And I hope y’all like the name I picked out for her as well

[insomniadreamzz]

Hey, how are you? I wanted to request G!P Jinx x Reader. Imagine that the reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they have unprotected sex and then Jinx gets the reader pregnant? Something like the reader being afraid to tell Jinx and she freaks out about it and stuff like that… Could there also be smut at the end and fluff too? Please, I've never seen that around here 😮‍💨

Helloo! Thank you I am perfectly fine. Today is my birthday and I am actually busy but I LOVE this request so I had to write it down today 👀

———

My everything

G!P Jinx x Fem!Reader

Smut, mentions of pregnancy, fluff

The last days you felt kinda off, your emotions were like a rollercoaster and you got more sensitive. Jinx realised this too, making her feel a little worried about you. Since she had mental issues herself, she always questioned if she did something wrong, making the situation between you both get a little more complicated.

„Is everything okay my love? It’s your third plate of food today. I don’t mind it at all but…I am worried if something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right? You do trust me do you?“ Jinx asked as you were about to finish your food, your gaze moving up to look at her, a little smile on your face. „Of course I do trust you. You are my girlfriend after all. I just feel more hungry than usual these days, nothing to worry about.“ You tried to reassure her but she felt something was still off.

The next days your behavior went on, you also felt nauseous out of nowhere which made you realise that you might be pregnant. Last time you and Jinx got intimate you didn’t use protection which was a little silly of both of you but to be honest you didn’t really realise she would get you pregnant that fast. Whatever…if it was true and you carried her child, how to tell her? You suddenly worried about her reaction, close to panic but before your mind will make you freak out you decided to make a test first and then you will have to figure something out.

Thankfully Jinx wasn’t in her hideout today, she went out to probably blow something up again. You always had to worry about her when she wasn’t around but right now you were glad she wasn’t home so you could do the test without her knowing and just how you thought, it was positive. „Fuck…“ You cursed under your breath, feeling a little overwhelmed. Of course you were happy since having a family with your girlfriend was your biggest dream. But so sudden? It just made you think about a lot of stuff like are you even ready for it? Is Jinx ready for it? Will she be happy? Or will she be upset? You didn’t know since you never talked about that topic before.

One thing was clear. You had to tell her. Jinx already blamed herself for not treating you right anymore to explain your behavior. You noticed her anxiety getting worse these days but now you had a valid explanation for your latest behavior. Maybe that would calm her down and stop blaming herself?

There was not much time of thinking about how to explain to Jinx as you heard her walking into the hideout, a happy smile on her face as she catched your sight, you quickly hiding the test behind your back, wishing you already removed it and didn’t stare at it all the time while having a little discussion with your own mind about the result. „Hey toots!!“ She said with her usual wuirky behaviour you loved so much but she did notice you hid something behind your back. „What ya hiding there?“ She asked and you began to blush deeply, not being able to find the right words or to speak at all. „I-…“ You started but she cut you off by snatching it out of your hand. Why did you hide it anyways? You knew Jinx was too fast for you to even react when she tried to get it out your hands.

Her eyes widened when she saw what you were hiding, not knowing how to react. You bit down on your own lower lip, feeling nervous, scared she would be upset. „You are…“ She started, looking into your eyes with a soft gaze, you only nod in response which was enough for the blue haired girl to freak out but in a positive way. „Oh my god! My girl is pregnant!“ She squealed, being all jumpy and giggly, talking to herself about all the things she wants to do and build as she paced around the hideout before she stopped right in front of you, placing a lot of soft kisses on your lips. „I love you so much!“ She said in between the kisses before pulling back to look into your eyes again, you felt so relieved. „Jinx…are you happy?“ You asked just in case as if her reaction wasn’t enough. „Are you kidding me?! I am! I am the happiest my love!“ She reassured you, taking your hands in hers as she gently rubbed them with her thumbs. „I-I know I am chaotic and I know the things I do are weird and dangerous, making me question if I can do this right but…but I want it! I wanna take care of you both and make sure you will always feel loved.“

Her words made you feel so soft. You didn’t expect her to be this passionate about that topic but you loved it. You loved her. Her eyes got a little watery, the more she realised it, the more emotional she got. „I-I thought I did something wrong. I thought you stopped loving me but…but the real reason you behaved like this…it’s such a beautiful reason.“ Jinx voice was very soft and a little shaky as she let tears of happiness run down her cheeks and so did you. You couldn’t hold back your own emotions anymore as well, feeling so happy as well that she wasn’t upset about it. „I could never stop loving you…how could you even think that?“ You asked but in return she just kissed you again, this time more deeper and passionately as she made you lay down on your back. Right now she just wanted to feel you and give you her love, her tongue moving inside your mouth, making you gasp softly in return.

Both of you felt aroused by the deep kissing, your hormones being all over the place made you feel hornier than usual so it was obvious you wanted her and you showed it as your hands gently pulled on her pants, making her smirk into the kiss. „Heh…you want me don’t you?“ She hummed and you nodded. „Yes…yes please I need you.“ You almost beg for her to fuck you and of course she won’t deny you.

It didn’t took you long to be all over each other again, her marking your body with kisses and little gentle bites while her cock moved inside of you, her pace being slower than usual, making you chuckle a little. She must do that on purpose which was cute. „Hnn…you know you can go faster do you?“ She looked down at you with a soft gaze, you knew she didn’t want to do anything wrong but you reassured her. Jinx behavior was just so sweet. „Ah…yes I know of course.“ She said but you knew she was being careful now because she knew you were pregnant. After your reassurance she thrusted faster inside of you as she held your hips gently, going deeper as usual, losing herself into the pleasure just like you. Both of you being a moaning mess. „Fuck…I am close…“ She moaned out and you kept her close to you by wrapping your legs around her waist, making sure she won’t pull out. „M-me too…cum inside me please.“ You whined, her hips didn’t stop moving, moaning out loudly when she came and at the same time you reached your orgasm as well, feeling her fill you up with her cum, making both of you feel so good.

Both of you panted softly, her leaning down to kiss you again so lovingly. „You make me the happiest…“ She whispered. „And you make me the happiest.“ You answered with a soft smile, caressing her cheek as you both looked into each others eyes with so much love.

(Fluff bonus)

„Hey that tickles!“ You giggle softly as Jinx painted little hearts and other little cute stuff on your baby bump. „What? You’re my beautiful canvas.“ She teased by sticking her tongue out, a giggle leaving her own lips. She just loved doing these sweet little things with you.

„Who knows maybe our little one will be as creative as you?“ You mentioned, making Jinx smile more. „Maybe who knows?“ She answered before leaning down to place a kiss on your tummy and then nuzzling close to it. „I love both of you so so much you don’t even know…“ Her words so soft, almost like a whisper as she stayed close to you. „And we love you. Always and forever.“ You gently caressed her beautiful blue hair, making her smile as she closed her eyes and eventually feeling your little one kicking for the first time.

[swappermanent]

Raw

I love fucking guys raw.

I mean, most muscle tops like me do. It just feels better—the glide, the sensitivity, the tightness—it’s almost intoxicating. But for me, there’s something more to it, something deeper.

You see, I have this ability. I can possess guys, make their bodies my own. Take control, live in their skin, feel their power, their desires. But there’s a catch—I can only do it if I get my cum deep enough inside them.

I don’t talk about it much. Hell, who would believe me? It sounds like some twisted porn fantasy, but for me, it’s real. It’s been years since I last did it, though. Decades, maybe. I’ve been this guy—this towering, muscle-bound hunk—for so long now, I don’t even remember what I looked like before.

Not that I’m complaining. This body’s a goddamn masterpiece. Broad shoulders, sculpted pecs, abs like a carved statue. Every time I walk into a gym or a club, heads turn. People stare. Some with awe, others with hunger. It’s addictive, the power this body commands.

But lately, I’ve been feeling… restless. Something’s shifted inside me. I used to thrive on the dominance, on the control. But now? Now I want something else. Something I haven’t had in a long time.

I want to give up control.

But I couldn’t find anyone worth giving up my body for until I met Bastian.

He was the perfect type of submissive—super muscular in all the right ways but smaller in stature, like his body was built to fit against mine. He had a confidence that was rare in guys like him, but when I got close enough, I could see it in his eyes: that flicker of curiosity, that hunger to be taken and owned.

We met at a straight bar of all places, a spot neither of us belonged in. I was nursing a whiskey, my usual method of blending in, when I noticed him across the room. He was leaning against the bar, his tight black tee clinging to a body that screamed gym rat but didn’t quite cross into the intimidating territory of mine. His dark hair was messy in a deliberate way, his sharp jawline dusted with a five o’clock shadow. He caught my eye once, then twice, and I knew.

After a few glances exchanged and a casual approach, we started talking. The conversation was light at first—what brought us to the bar, work, the usual stuff. But there was an unspoken tension between us, something electric in the way his gaze lingered on my arms, my chest.

“You’re not really into this scene, are you?” I’d asked, smirking over the rim of my glass.

He chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “Not really. I guess I was hoping to run into someone like you.”

That was all it took. Numbers exchanged, a few texts over the next couple of days, and then he invited me over.

Which brings us to now.

I’ve got Bastian bent over the kitchen counter, his shirt tossed somewhere behind us, his gym shorts shoved down to his knees. His muscular back flexes under my hands as I press my body against his, one arm wrapping around his torso to pull him closer.

And good for him—he was responsible and made me wrap it up. You could tell he was doing it out of obligation, not because he really wanted to. He probably had a scare recently, something that left its mark. I could work with that.

After a solid amount of foreplay—my lips trailing over his neck, his hands gripping my biceps like he was hanging on for dear life—I finally positioned myself behind him. I slicked myself up, rolling the condom over and coating it with lube. Then, I pressed forward, slowly, feeling the resistance of his tightness giving way to me.

He moaned as I slipped inside him, a sound that sent a shiver straight through me. His back arched, muscles rippling under his smooth, tan skin. I groaned in response, the sensation overwhelming even through the barrier between us. Damn, this kid was tight. Perfectly tight. Like his body was made to take me.

I looked down, my hands roaming over his toned form as I moved deeper. His abs were firm under my fingers, his pecs flexing with every breath he took. My touch drifted lower, tracing the sharp lines of his obliques, my fingertips gliding over the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin.

Damn, I needed to be him so bad.

The thought hit me like a wave, more intense than anything I’d felt in years. It wasn’t just lust or a passing fantasy. It was that familiar, burning desire—the craving to take over, to sink into him completely, to make his body mine.

I leaned down, my chest pressing against his back, my lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect,” I murmured, my voice low and rough.

He turned his head slightly, his face flushed, his lips parted as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re… incredible.”

I smirked, my hips moving in a steady rhythm now, each thrust making him shudder beneath me. My fingers tightened on his waist, holding him steady as I claimed him. The pull inside me was growing stronger, the energy crackling just beneath my skin. I could feel it, the connection between us deepening with every second.

“Relax,” I whispered, my tone softening as I slowed my pace, giving him a moment to adjust. “You’re doing so good for me.”

His only response was a breathy moan, his body melting under my touch. He was surrendering completely, and I could feel it—the trust, the vulnerability. It was intoxicating.

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the moment, in the feeling of him around me. My power was there, waiting, ready to take him if I wanted. All I needed to do was get thi condom off.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whisper, my voice low and soothing against his ear as I press him further into the counter. My hands glide down his sides, feeling the way his body responds to every movement I make.

As the rhythm builds, I let the words slip out casually, my tone almost teasing. “You know… it’d feel even better if we lost this condom.” My hand brushes his hip as I emphasize my point. He tenses slightly, just enough for me to notice.

“No,” he mutters, his voice soft but firm. “We’re keeping it on.”

I let it go, for now. Shifting positions, I move him to the bed and pull him upright, his back flush against my chest as I guide him to straddle me. He moves with me willingly, his legs wrapping around my waist, his arms gripping my shoulders for balance. The heat between us is electric, his body warm and pliant against mine.

As I thrust into him, I bring it up again, this time leaning in close, my lips grazing his neck. “You know you’d love it if daddy took this off,” I murmur, my voice dripping with confidence.

His breath hitches, his grip on my shoulders tightening. “No,” he says again, but there’s hesitation in his voice now, a flicker of doubt.

I smirk, pressing my advantage. “Come on, Bastian. You know it’d feel so much better. For both of us.” My hips roll slowly, deliberately, drawing another moan from his lips. “Don’t you trust me?”

His response is a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. I keep pushing, my words soft and coaxing. “You’re so tight, baby. Imagine how good it’d feel without this in the way. Just me and you. Nothing else.”

He shakes his head, but the movement is weak, almost reluctant. “No… we can’t…”

I keep up the pressure, the words spilling out between breaths as I drive into him. Ugh, I needed to become this kid so bad. “You know you want it. You know you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His protests grow quieter, less convincing, and I can feel him starting to waver. I glance down, snapping at the edge of the condom with my thumb, rolling it slightly down my shaft. The latex stretches but doesn’t give, still clinging to me. He feels it, glancing over his shoulder with a soft gasp.

“Hey,” he says, his tone half-hearted. “What are you…?”

“Relax,” I murmur, holding him steady as I keep moving. “It’s still on.”

His protests don’t come again, or if they do, they’re lost in the sounds of his own moans and the slap of skin against skin. I keep it mostly on, the plastic rolled down just enough to feel the faintest hint of skin on skin when I slid all the way in. My hands grip his waist, pulling him closer, harder, as I push him right to the edge with me.

The tension builds as I pull out of him, the faint stretch of the condom still clinging to me. Without hesitation, I roll it off, making sure he sees me do it. I hold his gaze, the moment heavy with unspoken desire.

His lips part slightly, his breathing ragged as he watches me, his body still trembling from everything we’ve done so far. I smirk, letting the condom drop to the side as I position myself back at the entrance to his hole. My cock, now bare and slick, presses gently against him, teasing just the tip.

He looks at me, his expression conflicted—his body betraying how badly he wants this, even as his lips remain silent. I press forward just enough to make him gasp, then pull back again, repeating the motion to keep him on edge.

“Daddy knows you want his raw cock inside you,” I say, my voice soft but commanding. “I need you to say it.”

His mouth opens like he’s about to respond, but no words come out. Instead, he grips the bed tighter, his knuckles whitening as he fights the urge to give in.

I chuckle, leaning down slightly to brush my lips against his temple. “You don’t have to be shy, baby. Just say it, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Still, he doesn’t say a word, but his body is speaking for him—the way his legs tremble, the way his back arches just enough to push himself closer to me. I keep teasing him with shallow presses, going just a bit deeper each time.

Until… oops.

I’m all the way in.

I stay there for a moment, letting him adjust, my cock buried to the hilt. His breath catches, his eyes wide as he looks up at me. I can feel his body trembling under mine, his resistance melting away with every second that passes.

I bring my hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. My thumb brushes over his skin as I lean in close, my lips hovering near his ear. “What do you want me to do?” I whisper, my tone low and intimate.

For a moment, there’s only silence, his breathing the only sound in the room. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper but full of need. “I want you to fuck me.”

A slow smile spreads across my face as I press my forehead against his. “Good boy.”

And then I start to move. Slowly at first, savoring the way his body tightens around me, the way he gasps and moans with every thrust. My hands grip his hips, holding him steady as I pick up the pace, each movement deliberate, purposeful, claiming him completely.

“God, you feel so good,” I murmur, my voice thick with pleasure. His hands claw at the counter as I drive into him, his body rocking with every thrust.

This is what I’ve been waiting for—what I’ve been craving. The raw, unfiltered connection, the way he’s giving himself to me completely.

And I give him everything I have in return.

I’ve got him on his stomach now, his back glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing with every thrust. He’s gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white as I fuck him hard, driving into him with everything I have. His moans echo through the room, mixing with my own guttural groans as I get closer and closer to the edge.

I feel the tension in my body coiling tight, that familiar electric buzz building in my core. He clenches around me, and that’s it—I can’t hold back anymore. With one final thrust, I bury myself as deep as I can and finish inside him. The release is overwhelming, a wave of pure ecstasy that makes my vision blur and my breath catch in my throat.

And then it happens.

I feel it—the shift. My consciousness slipping, unraveling, like a thread being pulled loose. The world tilts, the sounds around me fading to a dull hum. For a moment, everything is weightless, disorienting, and then… nothing.

When I open my eyes again, everything feels different. The weight of my body, the angle of my vision, even the way the cool air brushes against my skin—it’s all unfamiliar. I blink, disoriented, my hands instinctively moving to press against the counter beneath me.

But they’re not my hands.

They’re his.

I’m in his body.

I glance down at myself—no, at him. My old body stands over me, towering, muscular, and glistening with sweat. The realization hits me like a freight train, the shock momentarily numbing my senses. My former body – again inhabited by its original owner completely unaware of the decade possession he just emerged from – looks down with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Well,” he says, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “Looks like you finally gave in.”

I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat. My old body leans down, one strong hand cupping my—his—cheek, the other trailing down my—his—spine.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening just enough to make me shiver. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I can fully process what’s happening, he’s positioning himself again, the head of his cock already pressing back against me—against him.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, smirking as he slides into me.

The sensation is overwhelming, raw and intense in a way I never could have imagined. I moan—his voice, not mine, escaping my lips. My old body moves with the same confidence, the same dominance I’d always wielded. And now, I’m the one underneath, taking it all.

It’s exhilarating. Terrifying. Addictive.

And it’s just the beginning.

Inspired by Sharok and Bastian.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario : drunk calling ex!riize ༉‧₊˚.

req: hello sorry for another rq but what about ex!riize and you're drunk call him.. can i be 🪐 anon too pls

note: sure! thank you for your request ♥

pairing: ex!riize x reader— masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

“y/n? Why are you calling me?”

“I just… I saw this otter plushie on my way home, and it reminded me so much of you.”

After dinner with your friends, you drank a bit too much, and seeing that plushie made you think of your ex, Shotaro. You couldn’t help but call him, missing him deeply. Though you had separated due to the distance, both of you still harbored feelings for each other. Surprised by your call, he answered immediately, letting out a small laugh when he realized you were drunk.

“Are you walking home alone? Don’t hang up, I’ll talk to you until you get there… So, tell me, what was the otter like?”

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

“Why are you calling me now, y/n?”

“Do you ever think about me, Eunseok?”

Eunseok didn’t expect your call late at night, much less for your first words in months to be that. He stayed silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh.

“Have you been drinking, y/n?”

“Just… answer my question…” From the tone of your voice, he knew you were drunk.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, y/n. We’re not talking about this if you won’t even remember it when you wake up.”

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

“Huh? Sungchan? Why did you call me?”

“You’re the one who called me, yn…”

After your office dinner, you had a little too much to drink and accidentally called Sungchan. When he answered and heard your voice, he couldn’t help but laugh at how confused you sounded.

“It was me…? Sorry, I meant to call a taxi…” you said, about to hang up before he spoke again.

“Where are you, y/n? Have you been drinking?”

Even though it had been months since you broke up, Sungchan still cared for you deeply. He decided to stay on the phone to make sure you got home safely.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

“Mgh…?”

Wonbin was already asleep when you called, his voice groggy as he answered. You had just gotten home from a party, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Memories of all the sweet moments you shared flooded your mind.

“I miss coming home and sleeping next to you…”

“Huh, y/n? Why are you calling so late?”

“I miss you, Wonbin… Don’t you miss me? Don’t you miss anything about me?”

“Ah… you’re drunk, aren’t you? I do miss you, y/n, but… this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

“y/n? Is something wrong?”

After drinking with your friends at a bar, memories of how things ended with Seunghan overwhelmed you. You hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye, and it still haunted you. Seeing your call, he answered, concerned, it wasn’t like you to call so late. But hearing your voice, he quickly realized what was going on.

“I’m so sorry, Seunghan… I’m sorry for leaving like that, for how I treated you, and… I hope someday you can forgive me, you know? I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I miss you so much right now…”

“You don’t need to apologize, y/n… Are you okay? Are you with anyone? I can come pick you up…”

⭑.ᐟ sohee

“Do you know how much I sacrificed for you? And you haven’t even apologized yet…”

The last thing Sohee expected that day was a call from you, let alone a drunken, angry one. Although he didn’t like the way you were speaking to him, he also didn’t want to argue with you in that state.

“I’m not going to talk to you about this right now, y/n. I already explained why we broke up… Are you home? Please go to bed. If you want, I’ll call you tomorrow, but don’t do this now.”

⭑.ᐟ anton

“y/n, what…?”

“Anton? I didn’t know who else to call… I’ve been drinking, and I started feeling sick on my way home… I think I’m near your place, but I don’t know…”

You thought you could get home without a taxi after a party, but you started feeling dizzy and lost along the way. Even though Anton was your ex, you knew he’d always answer, so you called him for help. Hearing your voice, Anton immediately grew nervous, worrying about you and getting ready to find you. He didn’t hold any grudges against you, if anything, he still hadn’t completely gotten over you. Without hesitation, he went out to help.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[diorcities]

poison.

── why if you two broke up, you keep messing with him? you're his poison, but he can't help but want you to come back to him. haechan x you genre smut content dacryphilia, heavy make out, angry sex, manhandling, tits play, oral sex, riding, clit play, fingering, orgasm control. wc 3k

author's suggestion for next reading: one of the girls.

mdni.

when you try to kiss him and he pulls away, you know how upset he is.

“yn, cut the shit.”

dodging you only makes you more affectionate, and his attempts to get away from you while putting distance between your bodies don't work either. he forcibly ignores you even when you stand in front of him to look at the sternly expression, but you're too reveled in the shape of his mouth and his attractive features to bother noticing it.

you want to kiss him. fervently, ardently. you want him to remember you every time he do it with someone else. you want to leave such an impression on him, that he ends up having to look for someone who looks like you to make up for when you break his heart.

his responsive heart, when he takes your wrists on one hand when you try to grab him by the neck. so close to his weak spot that it gives you away immediately, “of course you find it funny.”

his eyes full of venom look at you before he gives you a withering glance that only makes you giggle.

“i'd say hot...”

he moves your wrists even though you try not to. the roles reverse when he's the one pushing you into his body. your smile falters when he licks his lips. eyes attracted like a magnet to see the gesture. “this is all a game for you.”

you scoff, “everything is a game for me.”

he gets closer, so much so that you're sure his dark eyes could catch you like a black hole. “you sure you want to play a game right now?”

there is a smoothness in his every action. from fixing his hair to tying a tie. driving with one hand on your thigh and carry you in his arms to the bedroom. his arms holding his weight on top of you, the sounds he makes against your mouth, the fact he can move you where he wants you, his fingers tattooed on your skin forever. the way he knows he has you. “can it be one where i win something?”

his eyes darken visibly, you fear falling and falling if you look at him for a long time.

moments before, you were getting bored. nothing surprised you, nothing attracted you.. maybe you were just full of yourself. but your guilty delight, your deepest fascination was always been able to make him jealous. because then... his gaze becomes heavy, and his jaw tighten.

to kiss his pursed lips away gives you more satisfaction than when you hooked up with all his friends.

the moment of waiting to feel his mouth on yours kills you. your eyes follow his features effortlessly attractives with your doe eyes, and he watches you do it. something puzzles inside you.

he lift your chin to align your mouth with his. “oh, yeah?”

he's is taller than you, his delicate body and chiseled muscles sometimes make you forget how strong he can be when he grabs you by the waist and moves you with ease towards the wall to attack your mouth hungrily.

you feel his smile on your mouth when you scream at him pressing you softly against the wall and his body. the warmth radiating from his presence clutters your senses. the burning kiss overwhelms you, getting sharper, haechan makes you sigh in his mouth.

haechan has the grip on your chin, where he controls the depth of the kiss; trapped between him and nothing, between falling into his arms or into the abyss.

you're so dazzed, you can only wait for him to use you at will. pleasantly, you don't resist when he kisses your neck and buries his head to suck in your scent. when his hands grope you and press on your back. when he comes back to your mouth for more. “you're the devil.”

he turns on to see you willing, your small hands on his shoulders and arms, the way your mouth takes him possessively. kissing his cheeks and neck, jaw and lips again. unable to make you stop despite feeling the pressure in his pants, waiting since the night began.

destructive and lethally beautiful, haechan's intoxicated by you. you are his favorite poison.

your mouth is intoxicating, and the soft sighs he brings out of you are fanciful to him. opening your legs to see how wet you are, you watch him bury his head between your thighs to give you a taste.

your back arches involuntarily, a heat overwhelms you, and a tingling spreads from your stomach to every nerve ending. you're sweet and honeyed, your pussy gets more soggy when he puts his mouth on your clitoris, and fills the room with soaking sounds. “oh god!”

he entices the sweetest moans out of you. his tongue passing through your core causes you to stifle a whimper. your legs are opened under the firm grip on your thighs, keeping you spread and receiving the motion of his mouth. it is impossible for you to escape, your body trembles and a spasm runs through you when he introduce a finger and press your swollen core, “mmm... hyuck... f-fuck-”

your intimacy burns and goes numb, a pain hits you when it settles in your belly, gaining strength, growing. your stomach shrinks and your eyes flutter. the fog crowds your eyes and you moan feeling the sweet sensation stop.

haechan pulls away and your eyes meet. you barely see his figure, imposing himself on you as he grabs your ankles because of the tears that come over you when he cuts the pleasant feeling.

“beg for it.”

“please.” your mouth feels dry when you see him put two fingers in his mouth.

he wastes no time and resumes the pace. two digits are inserted and begin to roam you rhythmically while his eyes observe what he does. “you look so beautiful, so hot and pretty for me.” your legs open wide for a full view, that makes you grunt when they press on a different angle. “let me hear my name.”

“hyuck—” the movement generated by the friction of your walls with his fingers covers your ears in pleasant wet sounds as something delicious embalms your muscles. “hyuck, i'm cumming...” a hiss assault you when a sweet pain hit your gut.

your digits desperately go down to your femininity to calm the unbearable pleasure. your eyes close tightly and your hand winds up in his forearm, muscles flexing as he works his fingers in and out of you. “cum on my fingers.”

a strong pulse thunders in your pussy and takes your breath away from the destroying orgasm. your face gets wet and you make a face that doesn't go unnoticed; haechan's gaze falls on you and watch you with perverse attention as his fingers keep moving inside you, wetting your legs as you squirt around his digits. “g-god,” you cry in a whiny voice that he finds enticing.

his half-open, inviting mouth kisses you fiercely in a euphoric feeling. you taste the silkiness of your arousal on his tongue as he deepens the kiss, cradling you in his arms as he washes the climax out of you.

in one move, he makes you straddle him. your hands go to his warm chest, feeling his heart beating fast under your palm as his erection presses into your intimacy. “how are you feeling?” he asks, caressing your sides up and down.

you have a hard time finding your voice, and he likes that. “good.”

his face comes dangerously close to your chest, where he fits his mouth around your tit through the dress. the mere sensation of his breath and the warmth of his mouth makes you squeeze your legs around his waist. “just good?” he presses you towards himself when you try to pull away. his caresses are intoxicating; you brush his hair and let yourself go, rocking your hips back and forth.

haechan hisses when your hands reach down to the buckle of his pants to take it off eagerly. you get back on his lap and waste no time when you align his length with your pussy and go all the way down.

you both moan loudly.

the dress starts to slide off your shoulders as you start riding him. you go up and down in accentuated and deep movements, feeling with immensity and pleasure the way in which his cock fills you whole. haechan presses against your walls and his dick buried in you creates a delicious friction. your eyes roll as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and begin to rock him rhythmically.

his hands control your hips and assist you when you ride it more intensely. you go back and forth on his cock at a crushing pace, watching his expressions writhe and head fall back. he's all flustered and out of space; it makes you grin. “fucked, baby?” you slow down and change the rhythm. that just makes him jerk under you and squeeze your waist.

a strong pulse in your guts takes your breath away when he laughs shortly. you're so sensitive that you tremble all the time.

you see him underneath you, with his bedroom eyes, brown and round. delicate cheekbones and soft features, contracted by the pleasure you give him. haechan is by far the most beautiful and alluring man you've ever met; you're still haunted by him every time you fuck someone.

all you want is him. to see him moan your name, yet his mouth is kept sealed. “am i not fucking you good?” you express, rocking back and forth, hearing your wetness all over his length.

he sneers, eyes furrowed. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheeks as he uses his hands to control your body. you both look at each other intensely as he helps you ride him. “hae-” a sweet current spreads through your muscles and makes you gasp.

your body shudders and he rolls his eyes, shutting close just as he offers you his hands for support. “tell me you love me.”

“fuck you.” laughing only makes haechan's sensations enhancing; your walls have pulsed around him. and you suffer more spasms when he brings a hand to your clitoris to feel yourself doing it more. addicted and intoxicated by how well you squeeze around him, he hisses.

a tingling sensation runs through you while a sharp sensation forms in your intimacy seeing him leaning to you and kissing you fervently. half-open mouth taking your lips with expert savagery, passionate and deep. he grabs the back of your neck and turns his head, your hands press on his chest and you increase the intensity of your body taking him full, rhythmically and harder.

your mouths drown out each other's moans, “you're fucking mine,” you declare, you promise. and the minutes that pass without him answering make a hole open in your chest.

“fucking yours.”

haechan hisses when he feels you pulsing, non-stop moving on him, leaving your orgasm in the background as you continue to ride him with agility and desperation. “so hot...” your pussy pricks with sharp pain that makes your eyes roll as you fuck him dumb with unbridled and messy movements. “cum in my cock, yeah?”

he pulls your dress down further until your breasts are exposed. his mouth get closer and suck around your nipple, making you speed up the thrusts. your eyebrows gather with pleasure at the way he hits your sweet spot. cock fitting perfectly in your needy pussy, fucking you out. you start grinding against him and scream. “hyuck—”

“mmm... you're so good.” his hands assist you to give you more balance. he squeezes gently and loosens, seeing him so enraptured only makes you lovesick and needy.

“fill me up, hmm? baby..., s-stuff me, hyuck” haechan grunts and buckles his hips up, shoving his entire cock into you at the same time as he starts to pulse hard. he grimaces when your walls clench, wrapping him tight as he fills you with ropes of hot cum, slick seed coming down his length and bathing his crotch.

an electric current of delight whips you as he nuts inside and whines loudly, eyes fixed on your pussy taking him all the way in while he rubs your swollen clit. the orgasm comes to you livid and pleasurable, leaving you gasping for air.

“a-ah,” you whine, feeling your legs burn and tremble, pulsing around him.

you keep it inside as he continues to massage you and your body begins to shake from the overload of pleasure. you ride him unconsciously as a white noise fills your head and makes you go numb.

you slump on the soft surface of the bed face down.

when you position yourself on your stomach, you look at him with dreamy eyes. haechan opens his eyes with characteristic mockery when he understands exactly what you want. “fuck me harder.”

he, then, proceeds to move on top of you. his arms imprison you inside, his warm chest touches your back. he possessively wraps an arm around and across your chest as he place a kiss on your shoulder.

your mouths opens and lets out a breathy gasp at the feeling of his cock pressing against you. your hands squeeze the sheets as he gently enters, a strange sensation whips you at the friction between your plushy walls. haechan opens you up for him and pushes some more, making your legs shake with bewilderment before a wave of pleasure blows the air out of you and encourages you to push your hips into it.

he stretches you good for him, and waits for you to sit comfortably with him inside you before he begins to thrusts. drugged and dazed from the way your sweet cunt take him. he looks at you, bewitched and he's in deep shit.

he wants you. his hand keeps you close to him, pounding you the way you want it. the way you love the most.

“deeper,” you plead.

your mouth forms an o when he fills you completely and muffles a growl against your shoulder. “oh, y-yes.”

the strange and pleasurable sensation expands to your belly when he begins to penetrate you in short thrusts. you barely feel him move inches out before putting it back in. you stifle a long cry against the mattress, trembling from head to toe with buzzing ecstasy.

your previous climax only aggravates your sensations, still awake. your numb pussy releases a sweet sensation when haechan fills you and you squeeze the sheets, listening to his laborious breathing against your skin each time he pounds into you, hitting your sensitive spot until you're a mess of babbling nonsenses.

“hyuck— don't stop.” haechan fights so as not to lose the battle of succumbing at that moment, feeling you so narrow around him, squeezing his girth just right. your body under his, taking it while rolling your eyes. feeling a white noise go down to the tip of his penis, he moans your name.

his hand interlocks with yours as he speeds up the pounding. the room fill with his moans and the lewd sounds of your bodies connecting. “yes, yes. a-agh.” you bristle and stick your back against his chest when a current whips you. “hyuck!”

he pushes you against the bed to sit up and the shifting position cause his dick to bury deeper. you both moan at the same time. his hands goes to press into your lower back to keep you down, shoving his dick until you tremble from head to toe, in and out of you with a bestial motive.

his eyes see where your bodies meet. you connected to him every time he moves his pelvis towards you and his creamy length disappears between the soft and fluffy buttocks that he keeps apart to see how it enters. “fuck, baby.”

a smile blooms on your face while you're in the clouds, knowing what he's doing. a spasm shakes you when the rhythm changes and he fucks you with harder. moans becoming louder as his climax approaches.

your eyes mist up and roll hard under the pressure on your lower belly. liquid pleasure going down to your area until it hurts from the touch. you twitch and cry, feeling his cock hammer you sharply.

everything collapses when you cum and the pulsations squeeze around him.

haechan pulls away breathing heavily, giving you a spanking that tickles your femininity. you're so deranged that you let yourself be taken by him. his arms wrap you and position you on pillows as he kisses your neck, cheeks, and lips. your legs barely give way to stay tied around his waist as he guides your limbs with his hands, tucking his body between your legs, overwhelming you in his embrace.

you're so dizzy with crushing pleasure that you didn't notice him finishing.

“be good and take me one last time.”

[juliusblevins]

Again, true that. {He shakes his head after listening to everything Derek says} You're not overstepping, but you are going to have to tell me what I still want to do before I can answer that. Now before you do that, I will say that you are right about me feeling something different. I can't explain what it is though and I'm not sure right now whether or not your uncle's description fits me. Same with the rumors. To be honest, there's just so much deep stuff involved in this that I don't really want to tackle or even think about any of it right now. It's quite frankly daunting and overwhelming for someone like me.

Of course. It is more work than what it looks like. [He nods and stays silent and listens. He only speaks when the other stops talking]. It looks like it is serious enough to know you are feeling something different. My uncle describes it as feeling everything your mate feels. As in you are both connected to another level. Hearing two heartbeats instead of one. There are even rumors that you can even hear your mate’s thoughts… but…please stop me if I’m overstepping, and not that I care but…[Except his does if it is the same ‘Theodore’ he dislikes]. You are dating two people? And you still want to despite of this?

[revelboo]

hi revelboo!! I love your works and fics and I noticed in your transformer collection that you have the IDW Megatron from the furai model kit. This might be a bit forward, but do you possibly know where I could find him? I’ve been searching for weeks now but he’s out of stock everywhere and the only listing for him on eBay is over 200$ T_T I’m getting kinda desperate lol. it’s ok if you don’t know I just wanted to ask thank you have a good one!

Yikes. I bought mine from Hobby Lobby, but I don’t know anywhere that still has the IDW versions, but there’s a preorder for G1 on BigBadToyStore

It Had to Be You Pt 15

TFO Megatron x Reader

• Propped up on his elbow, he catches your wrist and presses it to his chassis and watches as you smile faintly, eyes closed. “My spark, it’s everything that I am. It’s me,” he says slowly. Lips parting when you lean in to press your soft mouth against him. Wondering what it would feel like if you did that directly to his spark. What those soft fingers delving in him would feel like. Cupping your cheek in his palm, he feathers a servo over your lip and finds himself wishing you had a spark. That he could claim you that way, too. Tangle himself so thoroughly in you, that he can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

• You like him like this, his defenses down and that anger banked. Is this what he’d been like before? Before he became Megatron, so jaded and bitter. Little glimpses of D-16, the mech he seems to mourn and despise all at once. Fingers tracing over the seams in his plating, the hum of his spark sinks into you as familiar as the beat of your own heart. Soothing you. It’s the sound that lulls you to sleep at night, that pull seeming anchored there until it’s almost become an obsession. “It’s warm,” you murmur.

• Jaw working as you dip your fingers into his seams like you’re trying to figure out how to release his plating, trying to get to his spark. Tempting him. “You could see it. My spark.” It won’t matter if he lets you touch him. There’s nothing to bond to, but he wants to feel you hold him in those soft hands. To be able to trust someone that much. Eyes lifting to him as he shifts more over you, hips settling into the cradle of your thighs. And he wants it to be you, needs you to know all of him.

• Breathless, you watch him pull back the plating protecting his spark and that warmth and light pulls at you as you watch it pulse. “Beautiful,” you murmur, reaching out and hesitating. Not sure if you’re allowed. Those red optics stare hungrily down at you, head inclining as his lips part. Like he’s as spellbound as you are. Eyes staying on his optics, you close the distance, feeling tendrils of spark energy reaching to meet you. And he makes a snarling groan, hips driving against you suddenly to make you arch. That pull sinking into you, dragging you into him. Until there’s nothing but him.

• Shocked at the warm feel of you tangling in his spark, he’s venting raggedly, trembling over you. Can feel the weightless light of you in him. Unexpected and impossible, you don’t have a spark like him, but there’s something there he can feel spilling into him. Something he desperately needs to possess. And he chases after you, wrapping himself around that fragile light. Claiming it as his. All of you, your memories, thoughts, and dreams his to protect. Trying to claim all of you, even as you begin to panic and flounder in him, resisting his coaxing. Shying away and overwhelmed.

Previous

[mmso-notlikethat]

What You Wanted, What I Needed

Bucktommy Ι WC 4.3k Ι M Ι Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fix-it (if you want it to be) Ι cw: Dubious Consent this is inspired from this post .. Ooh look another Drunk!Tommy fic 😶‍🌫️

[Below or on ao3]

The bar was loud and crowded, the kind of place where people disappeared into the noise and shadows. Tommy sat hunched over the counter, nursing what must have been his third—or maybe fourth—whiskey of the night, after a couple of beers. His face was flushed, his shirt slightly untucked, and his metallic eyes heavy-lidded from a haze of alcohol and exhaustion.

“Hey there, handsome,” a voice said, low and syrupy.

Tommy turned his head sluggishly to see a man sliding onto the stool next to him. The guy was tall, with dark hair slicked back, and he wore a cocky smirk that immediately set Tommy on edge.

He sighed, the sound almost defeated. “Not interested,” he mumbled, his words slurring slightly as he turned back to his drink.

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Aw, come on. You don’t even know what I’m offering yet.”

Tommy frowned, blinking blearily at the whiskey in his glass. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “I’m not interested.”

The man leaned closer, resting his elbow on the counter and angling his body toward Tommy. “You look like you’ve had a rough night. Maybe I can help you forget about it.”

Tommy’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “Yeah? You got a time machine in your pocket?”

The man laughed, though there was a sharpness to it. “No, but I’ve got other things that might help.” He leaned in further, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “What’s got you so down, huh? Work? Love life? You can talk to me.”

Tommy shook his head slowly, his movements uncoordinated. “I don’t wanna talk,” he said flatly.

“Then maybe we don’t have to talk,” the man replied, his tone suggestive.

Tommy finally looked at him, his expression half-annoyed, half-bemused. “You don’t take a hint, do you?”

The man smirked, undeterred. “Not when I see something I like.”

Tommy sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just want to drink, alright? Alone.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” the man countered, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. ��Besides, I can see it in your eyes. You don’t really want to be alone. Not tonight.”

Tommy frowned, something tightening in his chest at the words. He didn’t reply, his gaze dropping back to his drink.

The man took his silence as an invitation, shifting closer until their arms nearly brushed. “Come on, don’t play hard to get. I know what you want.”

Tommy stiffened, his discomfort growing. “I said no,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

The man’s eyes flicked down, and his smirk widened. “Yeah, sure. You’re saying no, but your body’s saying yes.” He nodded toward the faint outline of a bulge in Tommy’s pants.

Tommy flushed, embarrassment mingling with frustration. “That’s not—”

Before he could finish, the man’s hand was on his thigh, squeezing lightly as he leaned in.

“Relax,” the guy murmured, his lips brushing against Tommy’s ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Tommy froze, his body stiffening as the man pressed a hard, insistent kiss to his lips. His sluggish mind struggled to keep up, the alcohol dulling his instincts and making him feel disconnected from his own body.

The man tugged at his arm, pulling him off the stool with surprising force. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Let’s find somewhere more private.”

“Wait—no, I—” Tommy stammered, his voice weak and unconvincing as the man began steering him toward the bathrooms.

“Shh,” the man murmured, a smug grin curling his lips as he pressed Tommy against the wall just outside the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “You’re overthinking it.”

Tommy’s hands came up, palms weakly pressing against the man’s chest. “I’m not—just stop, alright?”

But the man didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned in, capturing Tommy’s mouth in a hard, forceful kiss. The pressure of his lips was overwhelming, silencing Tommy’s protests as the man’s hand slid down to grip his ass firmly.

Tommy let out a muffled sound of protest, his hands pushing harder against the man’s chest, but his strength was fleeting. The alcohol coursing through his veins left his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, his mind hazy and slow to react.

“Relax,” the man said against his lips, his free hand sliding under the hem of Tommy’s untucked shirt to graze the bare skin of his lower back. “You’re just nervous. I’ll make it good for you.”

Tommy turned his head, breaking the kiss as he shook it weakly. “No… I don’t want—”

The man silenced him again, this time by nipping at the side of his jaw, his lips trailing down to the sensitive spot just below Tommy’s ear. His grip on Tommy’s ass tightened, pulling their bodies closer together.

Tommy’s breathing hitched sharply, a soft, involuntary moan escaping his lips as the man’s teeth grazed his skin. His head spinning not just from the alcohol but from the intensity of the moment. His body felt disconnected from his mind, and his protests faltered. For a fleeting moment, he stopped resisting, his hands dropping limply to his sides.

The sound seemed to spur the man on. He smirked against his neck, sensing the shift. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice smug and coaxing. “I knew you wanted this. Just like that. Let it happen.”

Tommy shivered, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol clouding his judgment or the overpowering weight of the man’s presence, but for a moment, he didn’t push back. His protests faltered as a wave of disoriented emotion surged through him. Desperate for something he couldn’t name. Maybe if he leaned into this—into him—it would quiet the ache. Tommy tilted his head back and leaned forward, pressing his lips to the man’s in a clumsy, uncoordinated kiss.

The man grinned against his lips, one hand sliding further down Tommy’s back while the other cupped his jaw to keep him close. “See?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak. “You’re into it. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

One hand slid lower, undoing the button of Tommy’s jeans with practiced ease.

Tommy flinched at the action, his hands coming up weakly to push at the man’s chest. “Wait, uh—” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man grabbed Tommy’s wrists with his free hand, pinning them against the wall beside his head. “Stop pretending,” he murmured, his voice low and smug. “You don’t have to play hard to get anymore.”

Tommy’s head lolled slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as confusion and exhaustion clouded his thoughts.

“Hey!”

The voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a knife. The man froze, his hand stalling mid-movement as both he and Tommy turned toward the interruption.

The man stopped, his scowl deepening as someone tried to step between him and Tommy.

“Let him go.”

“What’s your problem, man?” the guy shot back, his grip still tight on Tommy’s waist. “Mind your business.”

The person didn’t flinch, their stance firm and unwavering. “He’s my business. And he said no. So, let him go. Now.”

The man scoffed, his sneer widening. “He’s into it. We’re just having a good time. Right?” He looked at Tommy, whose head lolled slightly as he struggled to focus.

Tommy blinked sluggishly, his body swaying as he processed the question. “Uh… yeah,” he mumbled, the words barely coherent.

The man smirked triumphantly, tightening his grip on Tommy’s arm.

But then, Tommy’s lips parted again, a faint flicker of recognition cutting through the haze as he murmured, barely audible, “Evan…?”

The man frowned, glancing back at the newcomer—Buck. “Fuck off. This has nothing to do with you.” His hand tightened on Tommy’s arm, trying to pull him away.

Tommy winced, his body swaying.

The tension in the air snapped.

“I said, let him go.” Buck’s voice was low and dangerous now, and before the man could react, his fist connected with his jaw in a clean, decisive punch.

The man staggered back, his hand flying up to his face as he let out a curse. “You son of a—”

“You’re done,” Buck snapped, his voice a sharp edge.

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between them. He muttered another curse, but this time he took a step back, rubbing his jaw before storming off into the crowd.

Tommy stumbled as the grip on his arm disappeared, but strong hands caught him before he could fall.

“Evan…?” Tommy slurred again, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked up at the person now holding him steady.

Buck’s jaw tightened, his protective stance softening as he steadied Tommy with a firm grip. “Yeah, Tommy. It’s me.”

Buck’s eyes dropped briefly to Tommy’s disheveled appearance—his shirt untucked and his jeans still undone. Silently, Buck adjusted the hem of Tommy’s shirt, smoothing it back into place. Then, with careful, efficient movements, he fastened the button on Tommy’s jeans and pulled up the zipper. His touch was steady and unhurried. Tommy didn’t protest, his body leaning limply into Buck’s care.

“There,” Buck said softly, his hands brushing Tommy’s arms briefly. “Okay, Let’s get you out of here.”

*

The car ride was tense. Tommy leaned against the window, his face turned away from Buck.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tommy muttered, his voice pouty and petulant.

Buck glanced at him briefly, frowning. “Do what?”

Tommy turned his head, his cheeks flushed. “Interfere. I had it under control.”

Buck let out a sharp breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “He was dragging you to the bathrooms, Tommy. That’s not under control.”

Tommy pouted, his voice stubborn. “I wanted it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Buck said, his frustration slipping through.

“I did!” Tommy snapped, his voice cracking. “I wanted to feel something. You didn’t have to take it away.”

Buck glanced at him again, his voice dropping. “Tommy, he was taking advantage of you. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Tommy scoffed, his voice sharp and cutting. “What, couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else?”

Buck blinked, momentarily stunned. “What!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended, before catching himself. His grip on the wheel tightened as he exhaled sharply, his tone more controlled now. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Tommy turned back to the window, pressing his forehead against the glass mumbling, “Maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of,” he mumbled, his voice quiet and bitter. “That’s what I’m good for anyway.”

Buck’s jaw clenched, his grip almost breaking the wheel as a wave of frustration and hurt washed over him. He said nothing for the rest of the drive.

*

Once inside Tommy’s house, Buck guided him to the couch. Tommy flopped onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, letting his head fall back. He stared up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“You don’t have to stay,” Tommy muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion and alcohol.

“I’m not leaving you until you sober up a little,” Buck said, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over Tommy, who barely acknowledged it.

Tommy sat up suddenly, his movements unsteady and jerky. His glassy eyes locked onto Buck’s, and for a moment, he just stared at him. Then, his lips twisted into a bitter smile.

“Why not?” Tommy asked, his voice trembling. “Because you feel sorry for me?”

Buck crouched in front of him, resting his hands on his knees. His expression soft as he said quietly, “No, Tommy. Because I care about you.”

Tommy let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and broken. “You care about me?” he echoed, his voice rising slightly. “Then why did you let me leave? Why’d you let me push you away?”

“Tommy,” Buck began, but Tommy cut him off.

“No!” Tommy snapped, his voice cracking. “Don’t give me that look again. I know, okay? I know I fucked it all up. I know I ruined everything!”

Buck’s heart ached at the raw pain in Tommy’s voice. He reached out, his hand hovering just inches away, but Tommy jerked back, clutching the edges of the blanket tightly. His hands shook, and his eyes darted away, unable to meet Buck’s gaze.

For a moment, Tommy sat in silence, his breaths uneven and shallow. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the blanket like a lifeline, his lips pressing into a thin line. Buck exhaled softly, standing up to give Tommy some space, his movements hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure what he should do.

Tommy’s gaze flickered toward him briefly, his expression unreadable before he looked away again. The quiet stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, Tommy’s voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper. “You took it from me,” he said, his tone fragile, as if the words themselves might shatter him.

Buck frowned, his brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy’s eyes filled with tears, and his voice cracked as he said, “That guy. You took him away, so—so give me this. Please.” His voice wavered, his tone desperate, as he reached out, his trembling hand brushing against the buckle of Buck’s belt.

Buck stared at him, stunned. “Tommy, no. That’s not—”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Tommy whispered, his voice breaking. His glassy eyes locked onto Buck’s, his desperation palpable. “No one has to know. Just… please.”

Buck froze, his breath catching as the weight of Tommy’s words crashed over him. His stomach churned, his heart breaking at the sheer hopelessness in Tommy’s voice.

“I’m sober now, I promise,” Tommy said suddenly, his voice shaking as he gripped Buck’s shirt with trembling hands. “I know what I’m saying. I do.”

Buck’s brow furrowed, his heart twisting at the clear lie. He gently caught Tommy’s wrist. “Tommy, stop. You’re not sober, and this isn’t about anyone else. It’s about you. You’re hurting, and—”

“Please, Evan,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cracking as his hands fisted in Buck’s shirt. His grip was tight, frantic, as though letting go would mean losing everything. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to take him away and leave me with nothing. Just—just give me this. Let me have this.”

Buck opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Tommy surged forward, his hands gripping Buck’s shirt tightly. With surprising strength for someone so unsteady, Tommy tugged Buck downward, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together in a desperate kiss.

For a moment, Buck froze. Then, against his better judgment, he leaned into the kiss, his hands landing lightly on Tommy’s hips. Tommy clung to him like he was drowning, his fingers twisting in Buck’s shirt as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his heartbreak and longing into it.

But then Buck’s mind caught up with his emotions. He felt the trembling in Tommy’s body, the dampness of the tears on his cheeks. This wasn’t right.

Buck pulled back slightly, his hands gently wrapping around Tommy’s wrists to lower them. “Tommy, stop, no,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion

Tommy shook his head, his tears falling freely now. “Why not?” he cried, his voice breaking. “Because I’m pathetic? Because I ruined everything?”

“No,” Buck said softly, cupping Tommy’s face. His thumbs brushed away the tears that streaked Tommy’s cheeks. “Because you deserve more than this. We both do.”

But Tommy wasn’t ready to give up. He clung to Buck’s shirt, his grip tight and frantic. “I need you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Evan. Just—just make me feel something. Anything.”

“Tommy…” Buck’s voice broke slightly, his own eyes starting to sting as he fought back the swell of emotion. “I can’t. Not like this.”

“Please,” Tommy whispered against his lips, his voice so weak it was almost inaudible. “I can’t—I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Buck’s breath hitched, his heart breaking at the desperation in Tommy’s voice. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “I’m here Tommy.”

Tommy let out a choked sob, collapsing against Buck’s chest. “I don’t know how to fix it,” he whispered, his words muffled against Buck’s shirt. “I don’t know how to fix me.”

Buck’s arms instinctively wrapped around him, holding him close, but before he could respond, Tommy tilted his head up. His warm, uneven breath brushed against Buck’s neck.

“I just—I feel so broken,” Tommy murmured, his lips grazing Buck’s skin as he spoke. His hands slid up Buck’s chest. “You make it better, Evan. You always made it better. Just… let me have this.”

Buck froze as he felt Tommy press a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck.

“Please,” Tommy whispered, his voice trembling. His lips moved against Buck’s skin, trailing kisses up toward his jaw. “I need you. Just for tonight. Please…”

“Tommy,” Buck said, his voice breaking, a mixture of pain and restraint. “This isn’t the way. You know it’s not.”

Tommy ignored him, his tears still falling as he clung to Buck with desperate strength. “Why not?” he whispered, repeating the question again and again, his voice cracking. “Why not me? Why can’t I be enough for you?”

Buck pulled back slightly, cupping Tommy’s face in his hands to make him stop. “That’s not what this is about, Tommy. You are enough. You’ve always been enough.”

Tommy shook his head, his teary eyes locking onto Buck’s. “Then why did you leave? Why didn’t you fight for me? For us?”

Buck’s heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Tommy’s words, but a flicker of anger rose at the unfairness of his accusation, tightening his jaw. “I didn’t leave,” he said quietly. “You’re the one who left, Tommy. And it killed me, but I swallowed it—because I thought it’s what you wanted.”

Tommy’s lip trembled, and he tried to lean in again, his mouth brushing against Buck’s. “Then take me back,” he pleaded. “Take me back, Evan. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just—just don’t leave me alone.”

Buck caught his hands, stopping him before their lips could meet. “Tommy,” he said, his voice firm but trembling slightly. “I can’t—not like this. You’re hurting, and you’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this. You mean too much to me.” He paused, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he added, “Tomorrow, if you still want to—if you remember—we’ll talk. Properly. You and I will fix things.”

Tommy let out a strangled sob, burying his face in Buck’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to fix it—me,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start. I keep trying, and I keep failing. I’m so tired, Evan. I’m so tired of failing.”

Buck’s arms tightened around him, his hand running soothingly up and down Tommy’s back. “You don’t have to fix everything tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to do it alone, either.”

Tommy clung to him like a lifeline, his fingers digging into Buck’s back as he cried quietly. “I just want to be enough for someone,” he whispered, his voice raw. “For you.”

Buck pulled back slightly, brushing the tears from Tommy’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Tommy, you’ve always been enough,” he said softly. “You just have to believe it.”

Tommy closed his eyes, leaning into Buck’s touch. For the first time that night, he stopped trying to fight or plead. He let out a shaky breath as his body relaxed slightly in Buck’s embrace, though his breathing hitched unevenly. His sobs grew quieter but more erratic, his body still trembling with the weight of his emotions.

Eventually, exhaustion took over. Between the waves of violent sobbing, Tommy began to doze off, his grip on Buck’s shirt loosening but not letting go entirely. Even in sleep, his body shuddered occasionally, and soft, broken sobs escaped his lips.

Buck stayed with him, his arms still wrapped securely around Tommy, offering what comfort he could. He watched as Tommy’s tears continued to slip down his cheeks, even in sleep.

Buck’s heart ached, a deep, overwhelming weight pressing against his chest. He leaned his forehead against Tommy’s for a moment, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered , his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything—what happened tonight, that guy and what he tried to do, for not seeing how much you’ve been hurting, for not being there when you needed me most.”

After a while, Buck gently shifted Tommy onto the couch, making sure he was lying comfortably. He tucked the blanket around him, brushing stray strands of hair from his tear-streaked face.

Tommy stirred slightly, his lips parting to mumble something. A soft sob escaped him, even in his unconscious state.

Buck stood there for a moment, watching him. The sight was almost too much to bear. Finally, he turned and quietly slipped out of the house, leaving a glass of water and a folded note on the coffee table.

*

Tommy woke up on the couch, his head pounding like a drum and his mouth as dry as sandpaper. A dull ache radiated behind his eyes, making him squint against the faint light streaming in through the window. His stomach churned violently, the nausea hitting him hard and fast.

He spotted a glass of water and a neatly folded note on the coffee table, but before he could even reach for them, his body lurched, and he barely had time to scramble off the couch. Stumbling toward the bathroom, he gripped the doorframe as he heaved into the toilet, his entire body trembling from the effort.

When it finally subsided, he sank back against the wall, his breathing ragged. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. “ugh at 40, I have to stop drinking. At all.”

The sour taste in his mouth only added to the misery, and he wiped his face with the back of his hand before dragging himself back toward the couch, eyeing the water like it was a lifeline.

He collapsed onto the cushions, letting his head fall back with a groan. The pounding in his skull hadn’t subsided, but it wasn’t just the hangover gnawing at him. Flashes of the previous night flickered in his mind—disjointed and hazy, but heavy enough to make his chest tighten.

He leaned forward carefully, his hands trembling as he reached for the folded note. His name stared back at him in Buck’s familiar handwriting.

Tommy, Get some rest and drink plenty of water. Call me if you need anything. but Tommy... please don’t call me if you don’t remember last night, or if you didn’t mean the things you said. - Buck Evan

He stared at the note, more fragments of the night before flashing through his mind. Buck’s arms around him, his steady voice grounding him, the gentle way he wiped away his tears. The memory made his chest ache, but it also sparked something else—a flicker of warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But then other memories surfaced—hazy and disjointed, but vivid enough to twist his stomach. The man at the bar, his smug grin, and the way Tommy had clung to him, desperate to feel anything that might fill the emptiness inside. He remembered Buck stepping in, the sharp sound of his voice, and the flash of anger in his eyes.

And then—Tommy swallowed hard—the way he’d begged Buck, the way he’d reached for him, grasping at something he couldn’t name, pleading for something Buck couldn’t give. Shame curled in his chest, tangling with the lingering ache of loneliness and regret.

He let out a shaky breath, staring at the note again. Buck had been there. He’d stayed, even when Tommy had fallen apart. But had he stayed out of care… or obligation? The thought gnawed at him, leaving him feeling exposed.

His gaze drifted back to the glass of water on the table, the simplest of gestures that felt heavier than it should. He picked it up and took a few sips, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the dryness in his throat or the weight in his chest.

Fragments of the night before continued to flicker through his mind, uninvited and relentless. The man at the bar, his smug touch. The desperate words he’d hurled at Buck. The way Buck had looked at him—not with pity, but something deeper, steadier.

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, groaning softly. What if Buck regretted staying? What if the note was just a polite way of drawing a line? The thought made his stomach twist.

And yet, despite the shame, despite the uncertainty, the pull to hear Buck’s voice was stronger.

Tommy reached for his phone, his hands trembling slightly. His thumb hovered over Buck’s name in his contacts. He hesitated, the words he wanted to say swirling in his mind but refusing to settle.

Finally, he typed:

Hey, coffee? Our regular place?

He stared at the message for a long moment, his heart pounding as he debated whether to press send. His finger hovered over the button, and then, with a deep breath, he tapped it.

The message sent, and he immediately felt a wave of nerves wash over him. What if Buck didn’t respond? What if last night had been too much? What if he’d just made everything worse?

But before he could spiral further, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Of course.

Tommy blinked, staring at the reply. It had come almost instantly, and the simplicity of it made his chest tighten, an ache that was equal parts relief and uncertainty.

He exhaled shakily, a small, hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t a declaration or a promise to fix everything. But it was something…

A step forward.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck. 

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.” 

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours. 

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out  if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door. 

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment. 

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup. 

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.” 

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there. 

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…” 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence. 

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better. 

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest. 

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you. 

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile. 

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“Much better now,” he flirts. 

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile. 

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly. 

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands. 

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment. 

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt  his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally. 

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle. 

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless… 

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble. 

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him? 

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it. 

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity. 

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.” 

He said nothing. 

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.” 

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you. 

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…” 

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled. 

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.” 

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…” 

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you? 

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything. 

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him. 

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there. 

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?” 

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?” 

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden. 

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease. 

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.” 

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him. 

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands. 

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once. 

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back. 

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp. 

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot. 

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers. 

Steve can’t even focus on the game,  he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case. 

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy. 

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van. 

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. 

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree. 

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug. 

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.” 

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks. 

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring. 

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic. 

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes. 

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away. 

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet. 

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip. 

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back. 

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.” 

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?” 

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other. 

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

Taglist:

@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs

[ri-writes-if]

What would the ROs reaction be if the first time the MC said I love you was when the MC was distractedly leaving to go somewhere. (Already dating.) Gives them a kiss on the cheek and starts to leave and winds up saying something like, "I love you, have a good day! Stay safe."

(Kind of imagining the MC being a little embarrassed but not trying to take it back.)

Cute scenario 🥺💛

Vez is surprised. They note it down in their mind with the intention of mentioning it later and returning the words back if they haven't said them yet. If they said it before, then they will show you how much your words pleased them. They keep thinking about it throughout the day and getting distracted from their work to the point it irritates them. They want to get revenge on you, so you can expect a bit of teasing.

Os grabs your hand and pulls you back to face them. They cup your cheek, looking into your eyes. "What did you just say?" If you refuse to repeat your words, they circle their arms around your waist, pressing you closer. "Are you ashamed of your feelings? Or do you want me to say it too? I love you. I just want to hear it one more time. Please?"

Laz lets you go and pretends everything is fine until you're left alone at the end of they day and they have you in their arms, in bed or just reclining together on the couch. They caress your back or your cheek, and when you grow relaxed, they speak quietly, "What you said today... I can't stop thinking about it. Were you serious? Do you regret it already? If you don't... Can you say it one more time?" If you do, they just hold you tightly, closing their eyes. They have many mixed feelings, but happiness is the strongest of them.

Ash's heart skips a beat. Your words put them in a daze for the entire day. When you meet again, they're flustered, unable to look into your eyes, their cheeks flushed. If you ask what's wrong, it takes them some time to choose the right words—and they still can't. They might just cry. Once they calm down, they say, "I'm so happy that it's overwhelming. That's all." They take your hand and smile at you. "I should've just said it right away. There's nothing better to say. I love you too."

Az hugs you from behind. They hold you for a bit, needing to feel your presence, to make sure this is real. "You'll make me lose my mind," they mutter, releasing you with a sigh. When you look at them, they grin. "I love you too. Have a good day." You should walk away because they won't be able to hold themselves back from touching you again. They'd just hang on you the whole day like a koala if they could, but they know they should give you space. Your words will put them in a happy mood for a long time.

[hakkkuu]

having sex in classroom with wonbin who bully you

cw: bullying, cnc,

Unwanted Cravings

You storm down the hallway, heart racing with anger and frustration. Wonbin's voice echoes in your mind—his sharp insults and cruel laughter targeted at you and his victims alike. The way he toys with other boys, belittling them for sport, only intensifies the conflicting feelings he stirs within you. You should hate him, and in many ways, you do, but as you catch a glimpse of his dark, chiseled features, a shiver runs down your spine.

Today, the tension is thicker than usual, and your chest tightens as you recall his latest taunts. Striding back to the classroom during P.E., you’re filled with unease. Alone with Wonbin? That’s a recipe for disaster. But as you enter, your breath hitches at the sight of him, leaning against the wall with that same cocky smirk that has caused you so much turmoil.

“Perfect timing, you pathetic bitch” he drawls, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. Your heart races, torn between rage and an unshakeable attraction.

“What do you want?” you retort, trying to sound tough, but inside, emotions swirl like a storm.

“Want to find out?” he taunts, stepping closer, the air around you charged. The tension shifts as he invades your personal space.

Before you fully comprehend it, he grips your wrist with surprising strength, pulling you towards him. Your heart pounds, a mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through you. He’s so close now, you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Why do you keep acting like such a jerk?” you snap, though your voice shakes slightly.

“Because you’re too easy to mess with, and you hate it,” he smirks, leaning in. “But deep down, I know you crave this.”

You try to scoff, but your pulse races as he suddenly pushes you back against the desk, the impact catching you off guard. “Always acting tough, but you really want this, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning closer, his breath hot against your cheek.

His hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly while his lips hover dangerously close to yours. You squirm, conflicted by a mixture of hatred and undeniable desire. “No, I don’t,” you lie, but the way he gazes at you makes your resolve weaken.

His response is swift and merciless. “Stop pretending,” he growls before pressing his mouth against yours. It’s brutal and intoxicating, the way he devours you, his tongue sliding against yours with a fervor that drives you wild.

He pulls away just enough to lock eyes with you, a wicked glint dancing in his gaze. “You think you can resist me? Let’s see how long that lasts.”

In one fluid motion, he pushes your legs apart, positioning himself between them. The world around you fades as he holds your gaze, a predatory smile on his lips. “You wanted me to be gentle, right?”

“Don’t you dare—” you start, but he silences you with a fierce kiss, stealing your words as he grips your thighs, pulling you closer.

And then he’s inside you, thrusting deep, the sheer force taking your breath away. You gasp, the sensation overwhelming, igniting something primal within you. There’s no fighting back—every cell in your body awakens to his touch, a stark contradiction to the anger you feel.

“Is this what you wanted?” he taunts, a dark satisfaction seeping into his voice. He moves with relentless intensity, carving out every ounce of hesitation from your body. “You hate me, but look at you, enjoying this.”

You hate him for being right, for being this way. Yet a part of you craves every rough thrust, every caress of his skin against yours. You can’t repress the sounds that slip from your lips, each pant and moan betraying your true feelings, no matter how hard you try to drown them out.

His hands grip your wrists, pinning them against the desk, a reminder of his control. “You’re so easy,” he breathes out, his voice low and dangerous, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Just give in.”

Each thrust makes it harder to maintain your anger. You feel the burning tension building inside you, an ignited conflict between hatred and lust until it spirals out of control.

“Wonbin,” you gasp, and the way your voice breaks reveals everything—this power he has over you, a strange torment that you both resent and crave.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, drowning out the world. He pushes deeper, harder, every movement calculated to shatter your resolve, and with each thrust, a part of your anger melts away in the heat of pleasure.

“I knew you wanted this,” he murmurs, a smirk settling on his lips as he gazes down at you, a predator relishing his catch. His movements become more erratic, every jab of his hips eliciting pangs of pleasure that you can no longer deny.

“Please,” you whisper, a mix of frustration and ecstasy flowing through you, though you’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or push harder.

“Say it,” he urges, eyes gleaming with a dark thrill. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Wonbin!” you cry out, the mixture of fury and desire overwhelming as he picks up the pace, each thrust launching you to heights you never imagined possible.

The world around you blurs, and with one final, powerful thrust, he sends you over the edge. Pleasure washes over you in electric waves as you finally succumb to the sensations consuming your body.

Wonbin follows closely behind, a ragged groan escaping his lips as he finds his release—his body tensing, shuddering against you with satisfaction.

As the intensity wanes, he leans down, capturing your lips again in a bruising kiss, a mixture of triumph and something much deeper twisting between you. But even as the moment settles into silence, you remind yourself of the tumultuous feelings hiding beneath the surface.

[itsgivingmami]

hey how are you i was wondering if could do a Rhea x reader ? where rhea ask reader to marry like in a romantic places and it end with smut (Sorry english is not my first language)

Hey I’m good! Thanks for the request and no need to apologize ever. I hope you enjoy it!

With This Ring- Rhea Ripley

Rhea plans an intimate night at home to ask the biggest question of her life, she hopes to show her love just how much she means to her.

The glow of the candles illuminated your living room, their flickering light casting soft shadows across the walls. Rhea had gone all out tonight, transforming your cozy space into something magical and you’d nearly melted when you walked in the door. The coffee table was adorned with a simple yet elegant spread: your favorite wine, a snack board, and a small vase of fresh flowers. you could here the soft hum of her music in the kitchen.

“Baby?” You called gently making your way down the hall when you stopped frozen.

You glanced at her as she moved around the room, dressed in a fitted black shirt and dark jeans, her usual confidence tinged with a nervous energy that was hard to miss.

“This is… incredible,” you said, taking it all in. “What’s the occasion?”

Rhea smirked, scratching the back of her neck. “Can’t I spoil my girl for no reason?”

You gave her a playful look, though your heart fluttered at her words. “You always do anyway, but I know you. There’s also always a reason.”

She chuckled, her lips quirking into a small smile as she guided you to sit on the plush couch. Handing you a glass of wine, she sat beside you, her knee brushing against yours. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass.

“My love,,” she began, her voice softer than usual. “You know I’m not the best with words, but I need you to hear me out.”

You set your glass down, giving her your full attention. Trying to ignore the way this was starting to sound like a talk you take a deep breath. The way her deep blue eyes met yours made your breath catch—it wasn’t just the usual intensity; there was something deeper there. A look you had never seen, no at home, on a date, in the ring, no where.

“I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to be strong for everyone else,” she continued, her voice steady but laced with vulnerability. “But you… you’re the one who makes me feel like I don’t have to be. You make me feel safe, loved, and understood in a way I never thought was possible.”

Your eyes began to tear as her words sank in.

“I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone,” Rhea said, her hands reaching for yours. “And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”

Before you could process her words, she shifted, pulling a small velvet box from her pocket. Your heart stopped as she opened it, revealing a stunning ring—a delicate, timeless design that was so perfectly you.

“My sweet girl will you marry me?”

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you nodded, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Rhea. Of cours I’ll fucking marry you.”

The relief and joy on her face was overwhelming as she slid the ring onto your finger. Without hesitation, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft yet filled with a passion that left you breathless.

As the kiss deepened, Rhea’s hands gently cupped your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. The warmth of her touch grounded you, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against her lips.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her tone teasing but affectionate.

You smiled, your eyes shining with happiness. “I just can’t believe this is real. That you’re mine.”

Rhea’s gaze softened, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I’ve always been.”

She pulled you closer, her hands trailing down to your waist as she guided you onto her lap. The crackling of the fireplace and the soft hum of the music set the perfect mood, but all you could focus on was her—the way her lips claimed yours, the way her hands roamed your body with desire.

“Let me show you just how much I love you,” Rhea murmured, her breath hot against your ear as her lips trailed along your jawline.

[redbleedingrose]

Can you please write cute fluff headcanons of the acotar men ( whichever you want to write about) pampering their fem s/o with a massage because they see her tense with stress? Please and thank you .

Pleaseeee, the Bat Boys and Vanserra Bro's know how to treat their girls, especially when they are stressy spaghetti!!

I kind of want to split this up into a mini series, so I will do Rhys first. Let me know who y'all want second in the comments!

Rhysand

okay first off, why are you even stressed? This male does his very best to make sure his darling is never worried about anything.

But its okay, sometimes your emotions get the better of you. Not your fault darling, you're just his sweet girl who likes to worry your pretty head about things like how emotionally constipated Az is, or how Cassian is working overtime with his training after throwing out his back (embarrassing for the old ass male), and how Morr is being too secretive these past few months and something is definitely going on with her. Rhys thinks it is so adorable how you worry about the members of the inner circle, how you take care of them in the ways that they need.

He loves watching you pitter patter around the apothecary, trying to gather materials to create a balm for Cass' back. And he can't help but muse over you fussing over Azriel, forcing him into the settee in your office and having yourselves a little therapy session (he knows he will hear the tea about it later when you both go to bed, and he cannot wait). He does moan and groan when you plan for a girls night out with Amren and Morr, he wants to have some alone time with his mate, but you settle into his lap and pepper kisses all over his face and neck putting him into a lovesick daze before rushing off with a promise of what is to come when you arrive home from your night.

Anyway, you do sometimes get overwhelmed, you care so much. You worry about Rhysand, you worry about the inner circle, and more, you worry about Velaris and the entire night court. Being the first high lady of the Night Court has designed a load of pressure on you to be perfect at all times, to always say and do the right thing. And Rhys, well he grew up with that pressure. He knew this was going to happen to him, but he cannot imagine the stress you give yourself. Again, you care so deeply, and that is one of the things that made Rhys fall for you, so much so, he physically aches when you aren't around.

You always try to hide when you feel overwhelmed, too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it. Part of you doesn't want to bother the high lord, knowing he, himself, is incredibly busy putting out fires on a daily basis, and handling it with such grace. It is almost annoying how effortless Rhys rules. But Rhys knows. He knows you, and he knows your heart and soul. You don't have to tell him you are feeling overwhelmed.

He can feel it, he can see it. He notices everything about you. He clocks the crinkle of concern between your eyebrows, the way your hands shake ever so slightly as you read through and sign the most tedious and boring paperwork, the way you twist and turn the custom wedding ring on your finger, the way you shake your right leg as it rests across your other leg and how you pause it when you finally become aware you are doing it, only to start again. You are teeming with anxiety, and he will do everything in his power to get you to relax. He can't have his beautiful wife worried like this, oh no, not at all. You are too good, too pure, too precious to him to ever allow such a thing.

After deciding he has seen enough of his pretty girl worrying, he swoops you up, out of your chair and into his arms, right where you belong, carrying you just like he did on your wedding night, his stunning bride. He ignores your protests with a firm shake of his head, and kissing the side of your head with a small hum, tightening his grip on your squirming thighs and right at the edge of your breast, carrying you out of your office and into your shared bath. Halfway to the bathroom, you gave up your fussing and settled into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head into his warm chest. He sets you down gently onto the counter, and traces his hands up your sides and settling onto your jaw, softly kissing every part of your face he can reach, focusing his attention on your rounded cheeks, pouted lips, fluttering eyes and your temple instead of answering your questions on what you are doing in your bathroom when you each have mountains of paperwork lining your desks that need to be completed before the winter solstice next week. "Darling, I don't mean to hush you, but hush. You, my mesmerizing mate, are too stressed out for your own good. I don't want you to worry about a single thing, and I will take care of it."

You immediately go into full denial mode, rambling with a quivering lip, "I can handle it Rhys, I am High Lady, and this is my duty, and I know what I am doing." Your husbands violet eyes twinkle as they normally do when they are focused in on you, and he listens on as you bubble out excuses and far fetched tales describing how you "really aren't stressed" and have "no idea what he is talking about," all the while rubbing at your tense shoulders and kissing the side of your mouth until he finally hushes you again. "S'alright baby, I know. I know you can handle it and that you know what you are doing. But if I am being honest, sometimes I get overwhelmed. And I just need you, I need you to be close to me. So will you please take this bath with me doll? I will even feed you chocolate covered strawberries and give you a massage with that lavander oil you love so much after."

The pecks to the side of your mouth were enough to convince you to stay with your mate, and follow through on his plans for a relaxing evening, but you didn't need to tell him that. The chocolate covered strawberries and full body massage are just an added bonus. The quirk of your lips is enough for your mate to vanish both your clothes and place you into the warm bath in front of him, holding your back close to his chest. He washes your hair, even letting the conditioner sit in while he presses his fingers into the tight knots in between your shoulder blades. After washing each other off, you both find yourselves snuggling in your bed designed for his large illyrian wings. You lay your head against his corded chest, giving into the deep sleep that calls you as he holds you pressed up against him.

Thank you so much for reading! Please like, comment, and reblog! It mean's the world to me.

Here is more of my work: Masterlist

[measuredingold]

my soul is useless without you

author's note: part two to i'd walk through hell for you is finally here ! i'm not sure if i want to do a third part, but we’ll see lol but i'm currently working on something for folio 👀 as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! also, if yall have any requests, send them my way :) i'm in the mood to write but inspiration is running thin lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.5k

cross posted on ao3 / part one

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings But A Good Friend, reader is going through it, anxiety, hints/mentions of depression, noah is just a good guy and cares about reader a lot ( more than he realizes ), friends to lovers pining lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It's when Jolly asks Noah in-between takes if he'd heard from you recently that the anxiety finally settles in.

Because he doesn't know the last time he's heard from you. Which isn't normal.

He's a bad texter, notorious for looking at messages and making a note to reply to them later or replying in his mind, but he always makes sure to reply to you whenever the two of you aren't together. It's just always been a thing, to always have some form of communication with you when he wasn't over at yours or if you weren't at his, so it panics him when he can't remember the last time he'd spoken to you.

He goes through your messages and finds that it wasn't him this time who didn't respond, but instead it was you. Relief washes over him briefly, the guilt of forgetting to respond to his best friend vanishing, but then that anxiety comes back full force. 

You didn't respond.

You always responded.

He sends off a quick message to you, apologizing for being in studio mode and not leaving the house and asks if you're alright. He waits. They go through another take, he somehow doesn't fuck it up even though his mind isn't all the way there. You still haven't responded by the fifth take and that's when he starts to feel sick, stomach twisting with the worry of what could be wrong. 

He tries to think back to if you've ever gone this long without speaking and he can't think of a time when that has happened. 

"Earth to Noah." Jolly's voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." 

"All good, man." His bandmate eyes him for a second before his eyes flicker towards his phone. "She respond?"

"Um. No." His brows furrowed as he stared at his phone, the black screen mocking him. "Kind of worried."

"Yeah... I am, too." Jolly murmurs. He clicks around on the screen a few times before twisting his chair around to fully face Noah, arms crossing over his chest. "You should go over there. Check and make sure she's alright."

Noah raises a brow at him. "We're in the middle of recording?"

"And?" Jolly shrugs, waving him off. "We got a lot done today, we can wrap it up. Something's obviously wrong and she might need you. That's more important than some song."

He blinks at his friend, letting his words settle in. Jolly's right, he thinks. You are more important than whatever song they're working on. That confirmation makes him feel funny, something tightening beneath his chest but he ignores it, nodding slowly. 

"Okay. You wanna come?"

Jolly shakes his head. "Nah. The both of us might be overwhelming. If you do need me then call, if not..." He shrugs again before lifting himself up out of his chair, groaning softly to himself, "...might be best for just you to go. She'd probably feel better if it's just you, anyways. You know how she is."

Noah isn't quite sure what he means, but nods along anyways. He checks his phone again and still no text, but he notices that you read the message. He should feel relieved at the sign of life but it only makes his anxiety worse, stomach twisting violently. 

"Okay. I'll text you when I get there." 

He's practically running out of the studio after that, the only thing on his mind was you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Deep down he knew that if this was him, you would've already been here, and he feels guilty all over again. He should've paid more attention, shouldn't have let this slip his mind so easily. He thinks back to your last messages together and how you were talking about your work day, overwhelmed and quite frankly, upset about it all. He should've paid closer attention.

He makes it to yours in record time, legs moving him to the door before he can even think about it. He sends up a quiet prayer to the universe that you had given him an extra key months ago and uses it to unlock the door, slowly pushing it open.

He calls out your name, but no answer.

His eyes sweep over your apartment as he enters, scanning the open space. Your kitchen looked untouched, minus the few dirty dishes that were in your sink. A few boxes of Chinese take-out and some bottles of water. He feels almost relieved. You'd been eating and as far as he can tell you'd been keeping yourself somewhat hydrated, so that was a plus. He knows how bad you can be when you get into this headspace - brain fog, forgetting to do basic things like eating and drinking water. But this... this is a step in the right direction.

His eyes move towards the living room and it's just about the same. A pile of blankets lay together at one end of the couch, pillows scattered along the length of the cushions. You'd been there quite a bit, he can tell, but other than that nothing was too bad.

Noah feels like he can breathe for just a second, eyes going straight to the cracked open door to your bedroom. He hears the faint hum of your television and hears the muffled voice of your favorite characters in your favorite comfort show. His chest tightens. You only ever watch it when things get bad inside your head, when things start to become too overwhelming and you need to cling onto something that you know. Something that won't throw any surprises at you and make things worse. 

He makes his way towards your room, ready to call out your name again as he pushes open your door but stops halfway. You're curled up in your bed, covered in a pile of blankets. He steps closer to get a better look at you and he doesn't think he's ever seen you look so peaceful. Lashes against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted. The crease between your brows is relaxed, which never happens. 

Noah takes a deep breath.

You're alright. He can see that you're safe and sound, at least for now, and that's enough for him. He shuts your door behind him and makes his way back into the main room, taking his shoes off by the door. He takes another deep breath to center himself as he looks around your space, hand finding its way to his hair. 

He decides he'll clean up your kitchen and living room. It isn't too bad, and it won't take him too long. He also just... doesn't want to leave yet. He'll wait until you wake up. Make you talk to him, ask what’s up. Probably make you eat something. Then he'll head home. 

Sounds like a good plan to him.

Even though your door is shut he still tries to be quiet, making sure to carefully wash and put away your dishes without making too much of a fuss. After the dishes, he throws away all the take-out boxes and water bottles. He even makes a note to take the trash out for you when he's all done, because he knows you would've done it for him. 

The constant reminder of you and knowing that you'd do something like this for him, and have, is the motivation he needs to continue. It makes him feel warm all over and he thinks how lucky he is to have someone like you as his best friend.

And he definitely ignores the bitter taste in his mouth at the word best friend. 

It's maybe an hour after he's finished, curled up on your couch that now has its pillows in place, and the pile of blankets are neatly folded and put away, that you finally emerge from your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, not noticing him on the couch at first, but when you do you make a noise of surprise that has Noah laughing.

"Hey."

He notices the slight flush of your cheeks but ignores it. "Hi?"

"I uh," He scratches the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile. "Hadn't talked to you in a few days. Got worried. So did Jolly. Told me to come over. Check on you. You were sleeping so I just," He throws his arms around, gesturing to the space around him, "cleaned up a little? Figured you would appreciate a clean house when you woke up so..." 

He's talking too much, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop the word vomit from coming out. Noah knows you wouldn't mind, but he was nervous, especially because all you do is stare at him without saying a word. Stare and stare and stare until you sniff, brows furrowing.

"...Thanks."

You're unusually quiet and it makes his stomach turn again. You sniff again and Noah swears you look like you're on the verge of tears, and he sits up on the couch. He watches you closely as you wring your hands together in front of you, mouth opening and closing as if you want to say something. You don't, and Noah catches the exact moment when your bottom lip trembles, and he's moving before he can even think about it.

"Hey. It's okay. You’re okay."

He tries to keep his voice soft and free of any panic, but his heart is beating so rapidly against his chest he swears you can hear it. You sniff again, head shaking as your lip continues to tremble and he does the only thing he can think of. He pulls you into his arms and presses you into his chest. You don't move for a second, but eventually your arms circle around his waist. You squeeze, tight, but he doesn't mind. He just squeezes you back. 

Your body begins to shake as the cries start to rack through you, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Noah swallows down the lump that was beginning to form, cheek resting on the top of your head. He's always hated when you cry. He himself wasn’t one for much display of emotions, but when it came to the people he cared about, he hated seeing them anything but happy. 

Especially you.

He's seen you cry a few times. Well, more than a few times. Sometimes it was over nothing, and then sometimes it was over an incredibly cute dog you'd seen scrolling on Twitter. He didn't mind those, but when it was over something serious, he fucking hated that. He never wanted you to be anything but happy, and whenever you weren’t, it’s like a piece of him breaks. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers into your hair, trying to pull you even closer to him.

“Everything.” You eventually mumble against his chest, sucking in a deep breath as you try to control your tears. “Fucking everything is wrong.” 

He fucking hates the way that answer makes him feel. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swears his heart just fucking broke at how sad you sounded, voice muffled by his shirt. He squeezes you to his chest again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wants you to talk about it, to tell him what's wrong so he can make it better. Noah knows it'll probably be damn near impossible to even do that, but god, he'd try absolutely anything to make your tears stop. You take a long moment to respond, trying to control your breathing, before you eventually shake your head against his chest.

"Not right now." 

"Okay.” He mumbles, raising a hand to smooth down your hair. “That's okay, we don't have to."

"Thank you."

You stay like that for a moment, in the middle of your living room. Noah doesn't plan on letting go any time soon, thinking for a split second that he wished he could keep you in his arms forever. If you were there, he'd always know if you were okay. The thought fades before he could think too hard about it when you finally pull away from him, and Noah catches sight of your slight red and blotchy face. He frowns.

He doesn't remember the last time he's ever seen you so sad. So defeated. Whatever was going on really pained you, and he wishes you'd just tell him so he can fix it. Another passing, fleeting thought, but he thinks he'd do just about anything right now to see you smile again. 

"Have you eaten?" He breaks the silence between the two of you, not waiting to hear whatever you were planning on saying.

You blink up at him. "Um... no. Not since this morning. Had some fruit and coffee." 

"I figured." He guides you towards the couch, practically pushing you onto it. You snort when he grabs a throw blanket and dumps it onto you. "Pick something to watch." 

It's not a question, but more of a command, and Noah ignores the way his chest flutters at the small smile you give him. He turned away from you, pushing whatever feeling was brewing inside of him so far down and got his brain to focus. Food. You need food. To be honest, so does he. He’d been so worried about you for the last few hours that he didn’t even think of getting something to eat. 

It takes him a few minutes of rummaging around your kitchen to settle on making something easy - instant ramen. He’s surprised you hadn't eaten it all in the week you’ve been off-grid, but thankful nonetheless. Noah's way too impatient to wait any longer to actually cook something, especially knowing you hadn't eaten anything since this morning. Every so often he looked over his shoulder to watch you, wishing you'd say something, but would find you either staring blankly at the television or your phone.

A bitter taste settles in the back of his throat every time he turns back around to the stove. He hated this, and he fucking hated that he couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

He brings your bowl to you once he's finished, already making a mental note to clean up the mess he had made while cooking. You blink up at him and reach for it, giving him a quiet, "Thank you."

Noah doesn't verbally say anything, just hums out a response as he ventures back into the kitchen to grab you something to drink. When he comes back he notices you had slowly begun to eat, and he feels his shoulders finally relax. Just knowing you ate something eases him, the tension in his body leaving him completely. You're already reaching out for the glass of water in his hand that he happily hands off to you, giving you a gentle smile.

"Need anything else?"

You shake your head, peering up at him. "No. Just want you to come sit with me." 

That same fluttery feeling beneath his chest returns and he wishes he could ignore it again, but it doesn't go away. No, it stays perched underneath his chest, as if it's decided that it's making a home there and never leaving. He doesn't say anything, just nods at your request before grabbing his own bowl and a Pepsi you had in the fridge before making his way back to you.

You wait until he's settled on the couch to scoot closer to him, legs pressed flushed together. You're already halfway through your ramen and for a split second he forgets that weird feeling in his chest, instead focusing on the intense pride filling him. He was able to get you to eat, he was able to help out in some way. Knowing you were alright for the most part and it was from his doing made him feel good.

The both of you eat in silence as whatever show you decided to put on plays in the background. He’s just now realized it was The Office, and he huffs out a small laugh at something Michael Scott said. Another one of your comfort shows, something easy. 

It isn't until you both are finished with your food and Noah's back in the kitchen cleaning up that you finally speak. He doesn't hear you come up behind him, focused on washing the dishes and making sure everything's clean and good to go, so he can't help but jump when he feels your arms slip around his waist and squeeze.

"Shit." He swears, followed by a breathy chuckle. "You scared me."

You don't say anything to that, just squeeze him harder and he feels you press your face against his back. Then ever so softly, he picks up the faintest, "Thank you," muffled against his back. His face flushes, eyes casting down to the soapy water his hands were currently submerged in. He's glad you can't see the blush on his cheeks, and he fucking hopes you can't hear the way his heart is pounding beneath his chest. Can probably feel it, though, and that makes his face burn even more. 

"For what?" He manages to mumble out, resuming his efforts. Your arms squeeze his waist again.

"For being here." You sound so small. "You don't have to be, but you are, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"You'd do it for me." His response comes easily, voice nonchalant because it's true. He knows you'd do the same for him, and the thought has his stomach flipping every which way. "And have done it for me. It's the least I can do."

You're silent after that but don't part from him, and Noah can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at the feeling of you rubbing your face against him. It makes him feel warm all over, and that damned fluttery feeling in his chest is back yet again. You stay like that until he's finished with the dishes, moving with him as he shuffles to the side to dry them off. You don't pick your head up even when he manages to turn in your arms, finally facing you. 

Noah's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and now you can rub your face against his chest. He laughs softly, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Still don't wanna talk about it?" He knows he's pressing but he can't help it, a part of him still needs to know what's wrong and how he can fix this for you.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Tomorrow, okay? I just... don't wanna think about it tonight."

"Okay." He thinks he can handle that. 

"Thank you." You say again and finally lift your head up from his chest, blinking up at him. There's still a sadness there, roaming around behind your eyes, but not as prevalent as it was earlier. He’s at least done something right. "I'm really fucking lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

The way you're looking up at him is overwhelming, Noah's throat tightening at the softness surrounding your tired eyes. You smile at him and this time it reaches your gaze, not faked but real, and his heart slams against his chest. A thought passes his mind again, something he hasn't thought of in years, and he pushes it back with a hard swallow.

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to do the dishes."

You roll your eyes but that smile never drops from your lips, and Noah thinks he'd like to keep you smiling like that for the rest of his life. 

"Shut up. I'm being serious." You're giggling now, eyes crinkling and he catches a glimpse of the real you for the first time in hours - probably days, weeks even. 

"So am I." Noah yelps when you pinch his side, your laughter growing louder. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to be nice here, asshole. You can at least try, too."

He softens at that, eyes meeting yours. He's well aware his face is on fire right now, cheeks pink.

"You already know I'm lucky to have you. Didn't realize I had to say it."

Even if he doesn't say it often, he is very lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in his life, for sticking by him and for understanding him. For always being patient with him. Jolly reminds him occasionally how lucky he is to have you, how all of them are lucky to have someone like you in their lives. He doesn't know what the fuck he or anyone did to be so deserving of you, but dammit, he's fucking thankful for it everyday. 

You don't say anything, just continue to beam up at him and Noah can't seem to stop himself, tilting his head down to brush his lips against your forehead. He feels you press further into his chest, if it was even possible, and practically melt in his arms. 

He wishes he could keep you here forever, tucked away in his arms. He thinks there isn't much he wouldn't do to keep you safe, to make sure you were okay, and that thought alone scares him. He'd never admit it, at least not out loud, and he tucks that thought away for another time. Or to possibly be never thought of again, he doesn't know. He doesn't really care.

No, all he cares about right now is that you're okay, at least for now, and that you're nestled against his chest like it's the only place you want to be. 

And that's enough for him.