#so excited to share this one with you all!

[sunni-stuff]

People are judgmental. Some think they aren't, others don't mean to be, and then there are those who do it on purpose and simply don't care.

Parents are guilty of this.

Parents who pay you to teach their kids do this.

But the worst offenders?

Wives. 

Particularly those with too much free time—gossiping Gertrude's who'd rather nitpick and judge than deal with the boredom of daytime TV and their kids screaming in the background. You’ve dealt with a handful before—a crack in the system that always rippled right under your skin whenever one of those vultures threw out a backhanded compliment.  

“You’re so patient with the kids. I could never do what you do—how do you even manage?”  

“Must be nice having all that time off during the summer. A little vacation every year, huh?”  

“Teaching must be so rewarding. Though I imagine it’s not really about the money, is it?”  

Each one, a subtle dig disguised as flattery, like they couldn’t help but twist the knife just a little deeper. 

If there was one thing you’d learned about this job, it was to always kill them with kindness. The rumor mill among parents was ruthless, and the wrong rumor could ripple out and jeopardize your career. So, you’d mastered the art of the polite smile, the well-timed thank you, and the effortless small talk. It was a strategy that had served you well, keeping any overly curious mothers at bay.

Still, these women were relentless. They circled like hawks, always looking for an opening to pry into your life or make veiled comments about your parenting. You’d never given them the satisfaction of slipping up—until the day you almost did.

The sun was setting, the air brisk and tinged with the promise of winter as parents gathered their children. Little voices chattered away as teachers handed over day charts, neatly summarizing each child’s activities. Standing at the cubbies, you were bundling up Adira. Her small frame was snug in her sweater, jacket zipped up to her chin, and scarf tucked securely around her neck. She fidgeted as you worked, barely able to stay still with how much excitement bubbled in her tiny frame.

Her voice was high-pitched and animated as she launched into a story, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness to share. “Messy man said, we play trains when he comes back!” she chirped, her dark eyes wide with delight.

You paused, your fingers lingering on the last button of her jacket. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you straightened her scarf. “Oh, did he now?”

Adira nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing. “Yep! He said, “Adira, we make the best train track ever!” Her imitation of Simon’s deep voice was laughably exaggerated, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.” We gonna play with the biiig track!” She spread her arms wide for emphasis, nearly toppling over from the effort.

The mention of Simon was enough to draw some attention from the other parents nearby. You could feel their eyes darting your way, their curiosity almost palpable. Simon’s occasional appearances to pick up Adira hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the whispers had already started. Who was this tall, broad man with a thick accent? Was he Adira’s father? A boyfriend? The air was thick with silent speculation.

Ignoring the countless eyes and ears listening in on your harmless conversation, you assured Adira. “Well, if messy man promised, he’ll keep it,” Simon had made it clear that he intended to be a constant presence in Adira’s life, and so far, he’d stuck to his word.

As you stood and picked up her small bag, a sharp voice interrupted the moment.

"Well, aren’t you just the picture-perfect little family?”

Your polite smile returned instantly, masking the irritation that flared at the condescending tone. Turning, you saw one of the daycare moms—Linda, if you remembered correctly—standing there with her perfectly manicured nails wrapped around her designer purse. Her son trailed behind her, nose buried in a tablet.

“Evening, Linda,” you said evenly, keeping your tone light. “How’s Ethan doing?

She waved a dismissive hand, her eyes already scanning Adira with that overly curious gaze that made your skin crawl. “Oh, he’s fine. But I couldn’t help overhearing... this ‘Messy man’ your little one mentioned. Is he... new in your life?”

Ah, there it was—the opening she was fishing for. 

Adira, oblivious to the undercurrents of adult conversation, grinned up at Linda uncharacteristically, the joy she felt for Simon completely expunging her normal glaring behavior. “Messy man makes pancakes! But they go splat!” She threw her hands out dramatically, mimicking the chaos Simon often caused in the kitchen.

Goddammit, poor Adira revealed too much to the wrong person, and you could already see the cogs turning in Linda's head. Forcing a chuckle, you reached for Adira’s hand. “Messy man is her nickname for Simon, her dad. He’s stationed overseas, so she gets pretty excited when he’s home.”

Linda’s perfectly arched eyebrow lifted slightly, clearly surprised. “Oh, I see. Military man, huh? I suppose that explains why we’ve never seen him around.”

You gave Linda your most neutral expression, taking notice of the other moms matching from behind her. “He’s been busy, but he’s doing his best to be here when he can.”

"Oh, I see. I simply would've never guessed you were married. You never wear a ring," Linda remarked, her tone dripping with subtle judgment.

You knew what she was doing. It was a carefully laid trap, baited to catch you in a corner. If you rebuffed her comment, if you made a scene, it would only give her more ammunition to spread rumors. These women didn’t care for nuances; they thrived on gossip, and the topic of marriage—or rather, the lack of a visible wedding ring—would be a field day for them. They’d ride that horse straight to hell, and you'd be left cleaning up the mess.

With the growing number of parents in earshot, you understood that this wasn’t just a comment; it was a test. You had to choose your words carefully. It wasn’t just about keeping things smooth in the moment—it was about protecting your future.

You gave a small, practiced smile, maintaining your composure as you slipped Adira’s bag onto your shoulder. “I don’t wear my ring because I work with children. It could get caught in their hair, or worse, I could lose it.” You met her gaze with a calm confidence that bordered on dismissive.

“That’s understandable, dear. We all have kids after all!” Lina laughed, her tone attempting to sound warm and genuine, but it was too polished, too forced. The laughter rang hollow, like a poorly executed attempt to mask her true intentions. “Does this mean we’ll finally get to meet him at the fundraiser this weekend? We’ve all been here for so long, and not a single glimpse of your beloved other half. Right, ladies?”

Her words floated in the air, sharp with insinuation. The smile she wore was one of practiced sweetness, but the glint in her eyes was anything but kind. She knew what she was doing—attempting to pull you further into her web, hoping to get a reaction that would either reveal more or, better yet, give her ammunition to fuel the rumors she clearly wanted to start.

A few of the other women murmured in agreement, their eyes flicking from you to each other, already whispering amongst themselves. They were all waiting for a response, and the pressure began to build in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes, he is.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even process them, your own response surprising you as much as it did the group of wives surrounding you. You felt a jolt in your chest, your heart picking up pace as the reality of what you had just said began to sink in. What the fuck did you just do?

The laughter from Linda faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed your words. The others exchanged glances, some of their faces lighting up with an almost predatory curiosity, while others masked their thoughts behind polite smiles. You could almost hear the gears turning in their heads—oh, this was going to be something they could use.

The tension in the air thickened, and you suddenly felt exposed, as if every secret you’d carefully kept tucked away was now dangling on the edge of a cliff. You’d just handed them the perfect piece of gossip, but what would it lead to? Would they use it against you, twist it into something worse? You hadn’t planned for any of this—hell, you hadn't even planned on saying anything at all—but now that it was out there, you had to somehow steer this conversation. 

You had to control the narrative, or risk letting it spiral completely out of your hands. 

Your mind races, trying to formulate a response, but everything seems so loud—your thoughts, the laughter, the eyes watching you. How could you backpedal without it seeming like a lie? How could you walk that fine line between the truth and keeping your personal life hidden?

"Yes, Simon’s coming," you added quickly, trying to steady your breath. "But, you know... he’s not really into the whole fundraiser thing. He’s more of a stay-at-home guy, a bit of a quiet one, really. I’ll be there though, and we’re looking forward to it." You tried to sound casual, but the flicker of doubt in your voice betrayed you. 

The women around you didn’t miss a beat, though. The moment had been set, and now it was only a matter of what they would do with the information. 

“Well, I look forward to seeing you.” Lina’s voice was dripping with a false sweetness, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as she gave you one last look. Her eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary, as if trying to peel back layers, searching for some crack to exploit. Then, with a nod, she steered Ethan away, her entourage of women following closely behind, their chatter rising in the air like a distant murmur. The click of their heels echoed as they disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, frozen in place.

"And so, that's what happened," you finished, your voice trailing off as you leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to gauge Simon's reaction.

Simon blinked up at you from where he was sitting on the floor, his focus still mostly on Adira, who was happily arranging her toy train with her blocks, making a makeshift kingdom. He didn’t seem phased, just a little confused. "You want me to pretend to be your husband?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before he let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his eyes filled with that familiar warmth. "Out of all the things I've done in my life, this has to be the funniest, love.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected nickname. It felt oddly intimate, a shift in the dynamic between you and Simon that you hadn’t anticipated. Love. It wasn't what you'd expected to hear from him, not in this context, not when everything felt so messy and uncertain. But there it was, slipping out so naturally from him, like he'd always called you that, like he'd been in your life much longer than he really had.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sound of Adira’s laughter in the background making the moment feel surreal. It should have been funny—this whole situation, with you essentially asking Simon to pretend to be your husband for the sake of those gossiping women. But instead, you felt something else, something soft and unfamiliar tightening in your chest.

“Did you just call me that?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice a little quieter than you intended.

Simon paused, his playful smile faltering for a second as he caught the look on your face. “I—yeah, I guess I did,” he replied, his tone a touch more uncertain now. He glanced down at Adira, who was happily stacking blocks at his feet, then back to you. “It was just a slip of the tongue. Didn’t mean anything weird by it.”

“I’m not exactly husband material, you know,” he added lightly, his voice teasing. “I’m more of a... messy man.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head. "A messy man, huh?"

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, but I’m good at it. Just ask Adira.”

Adira, hearing her name, immediately let out a squeal of approval. “Messy man!” she giggled, throwing a block in Simon’s direction, her tiny hand pointing at him with delight.

"So, what's the plan here then?" That easy grin back on his face, his eyes still dancing with humor, but there was something underneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. “You want me to just walk into a room and act like we’re a picture-perfect couple?”

The way he said it made you laugh a little, though there was a slight edge of uncertainty to it. You found yourself shifting uncomfortably, knowing you had no real plan for what came next. It wasn’t like you had a relationship with Simon beyond the occasional dinner and time spent with Adira, and yet, here you were, asking him to play a role in your life, one that might end up blurring lines you didn’t fully understand.

“Well, you don’t have to pretend, exactly,” you said, running a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling all the weight of the day settling in. “I just... I just need you to be there. You know, to back me up, to—” You paused, glancing over at Simon again. “I guess I just don’t want them thinking I’m alone in all of this. It’s bad enough that has already started.”

Simon’s gaze softened as he leaned back in his seat, watching you with a quiet understanding. "You're not alone in this," he said, his voice steady. “And I’m here. You don’t need a ring or a title for that.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten again, but this time it was different. His words weren’t a joke or a half-hearted attempt to make you feel better—they were real. He was offering something more than just pretending for the sake of others. He was offering his presence, his support.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The plans, the expectations, the pressure. Instead, all that mattered was Simon sitting across from you, smiling at you like you weren't asking for something too much, like it wasn’t strange to think of him in your life like this.

“Thank you,” you murmured. "Really."

He gave a small nod, then grinned, shifting his attention back to Adira, who had managed to get half the blocks stacked to an impressive height. “It’s nothing. Besides, I think Adira’s got the best part of this deal anyway.”

You glanced over at your daughter, who was watching both of you with wide eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Adira was your source of strength, a beacon that pushed you forward, her smile alone gave you determination.  “Alright, let’s figure out what married people do.”

"I know just who to call." Simon reached for his phone, the battered thing covered in scratches, an old case and sporting a broken screen from a hazardous drop. Upon seeing it, the first thought running through your head was, how the fuck was it still usable?

Price’s living room radiated warmth and history, a perfect mix of domestic coziness and military precision. The centerpiece was a sturdy stone fireplace, its mantle adorned with framed photos of Price and his wife, Melanie. In some, they stood arm in arm at scenic locations; in others, Price was in uniform, the edges of his cap sharp against the backdrop of distant skies. Above the fireplace hung a shadow box displaying medals and insignias, each one polished to a shine, speaking volumes about his service.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with everything from military strategy texts to well-worn novels. On one shelf sat a small globe and a model of a Spitfire plane, a nod to his admiration for history. A comfortable, overstuffed armchair, complete with a folded tartan blanket, sat near the fire. The coffee table bore faint scratches, evidence of years of use, and atop it lay an open newspaper, a mug of tea, and a small dish of biscuits.

You sat stiffly on the plush sofa, feeling distinctly out of place amidst this blend of home and honor. The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner filled the silence as you watched Simon talk to Price in the adjoining kitchen. Occasionally, their eyes flicked toward you, and you pretended not to notice, your gaze wandering instead to a black-and-white photo of a younger Price standing with a group of soldiers, all grinning ear to ear.

The awkwardness of the situation weighed on you like a heavy blanket. This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned your day—asking Price, of all people, to help stage your fake relationship. But you were in too deep now to back out.

In the kitchen, Price rubbed his hand over his mouth, barely concealing the grin that tugged at his lips. A low chuckle escaped as he grabbed a cup of coffee, shaking his head at Simon, who stood across from him, arms folded, his expression far more serious than the moment warranted.

“You want me and Mel to help you two seem like a couple? That right?” Price’s voice carried an unmistakable note of amusement, his words tinged with disbelief.

Simon shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders back, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Yes, that’s the gist of it."

Price’s laughter broke free, a warm, hearty sound that echoed off the kitchen tiles. “Bloody hell, Simon. You’ve seen action all over the world, but this—this is what’s got you nervous?” He clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder, his grin wide enough to light the room. “You’re in for a treat, mate. Melanie’s going to love this.”

From your seat, you caught Price’s amused glance, and you couldn’t help the way your face heated. This was going to be a long evening.

Price, still chuckling, crossed the room to the wide bay window, pushing it open with ease. The crisp evening air drifted in, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint hum of distant crickets. He leaned out slightly, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Mel! Come on inside, love. You’ve got to hear this one,” he called, his voice carrying easily over the quiet of their backyard.

From where you sat, you caught a glimpse of Melanie in the garden. She was tending to a neat row of vibrant flowers, her hands gloved and a straw hat perched on her head. At the sound of Price’s voice, she straightened up, brushing dirt off her knees with a curious look on her face.

“Be right there!” she replied, her voice warm and lilting. She removed her gloves, tucking them into her apron pocket as she began making her way toward the house.

Price turned back to Simon, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You better hope Mel doesn’t laugh you out of the house, mate.”

Simon groaned softly, rubbing his temples. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Price.”

Moments later, Melanie stepped into the living room, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She was the epitome of grace, her presence immediately softening the room’s atmosphere. Her gaze shifted between you, Simon, and her husband, her curiosity evident.

“What’s all this about, then?” she asked, removing her hat and setting it on a nearby chair. “You’ve got that mischievous look again, John.”

Price grinned, gesturing toward you and Simon. “These two need a favor, Mel. A big one.”

Melanie’s brows lifted as she looked between the two of you. “Oh? Do tell.”

Simon, looking equal parts determined and mortified, cleared his throat. “We... need help convincing a group of nosy parents that we’re married. Long story.”

Melanie’s smile widened as her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, this sounds rich. Go on, I’m listening.”

You shifted in your seat, feeling the warmth of Melanie’s gaze settle on you. Her smile was kind but tinged with unmistakable amusement, and it was clear she was holding back a laugh as she took in your flustered state.

“Well,” you began hesitantly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “It’s a bit of a mess, really. One of the moms at the daycare cornered me, started asking questions about Simon, and… I might’ve let it slip that we’re married. Which we’re not. Obviously.” Your words tumbled out in a rush, and you glanced at Simon for backup. He was rubbing the back of his neck, caught between exasperation and amusement.

Melanie let out a soft laugh and gracefully sat down beside you on the couch. “Ah, I see. And now you need to sell the story before it falls apart. Oh, love, I’ve been in a similar pickle—not quite like this, but close enough.”

“See?” Price chimed in from his armchair, leaning back with an amused grin. “Told you Mel would get a kick out of this.”

Simon shot him a flat look. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, mate.”

Melanie waved a dismissive hand at Price before patting your knee in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t mind him. Now, let’s think this through. If you’re going to convince anyone, you need to act the part. People pick up on the smallest details—how you talk to each other, how comfortable you seem together. If you’re too stiff, they’ll see right through it.”

Simon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he nodded. “Alright, so what do we need to do? We’ve got about a week before the fundraiser, so I’m open to ideas.”

Melanie’s eyes lit up with a mix of mischief and determination. “Perfect. We’ll start with body language—how you interact without saying a word. And then we’ll move on to the conversational stuff. You’ll need to know each other’s habits, quirks, and all those little details married couples just know.”

Price clapped his hands together with mock enthusiasm, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. “Right, then. Let the awkward training sessions begin. This’ll be one for the books.”

You groaned inwardly, glancing between Simon and Melanie. This bizarre charade was only just beginning, and while you couldn’t imagine where it would lead, one thing was clear—you were in for a wild ride.

Happy new years friends! The holidays were a riot and I spent most of it spending time with family instead of writing as I felt kind of burnt out from writing in November, sorry about that but I hope this makes up for it.

-

@midnight-blue-moon-princess @pipedream411 @frogofrg @loonagabs @ghostlythots @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @awildewit @gifted-aurora @teenagellamaangel @julesjunimos @tacticalgirlboss @midnights-song @suzuki-18 @t3a-bag @latencygirl @krispymagazinepizza-blog @harperdoodle @odettecigno @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovelystarfish @my-little-evil-blog @imastorytelleritsondvd @l1lpip @cringeycookies @identity2212 @balletbiscuit @mulletmcghee @maciswack @littleracco0n @oliver-1270 @weemansoap @cryingpages @connorsui @beebeechaos @gluttonybiscuits @strawberrygato @sozainturpal @echo9821 @blinca @illusionistlover @blubearxy @superficialfeelings @new-author3 @xanvasy @oniiloma @bankaixx @evie-199 @notsochillnerd @thatpersonnamedrook @hon3y-cloud @jaguarthecat @reinekoya @apixasflora @a-lovers-card @gloriousloveduck @aetherthetrashpanda @princess-vibes25 @vickykazuya @enfppuff @liliannamae @m0chac0ffee @flamehero-phoenix @bean-cream @realizemandi97 @almostdecadentstarfish @lunamoonbby

[totalswag]

podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.

warning(s) none!

About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.

The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.

You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.

Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.

“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.

"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."

"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"

You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.

"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."

Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.

You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.

"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.

"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.

"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.

Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.

Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."

You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.

Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”

You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.

Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.

“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.

Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”

The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.

A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.

You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.

You scream. Literally scream.

Drew Starkey followed you.

Drew Starkey sent you a message.

"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.

Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.

Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!

What do you say?

How do you come off calmly?

Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.

Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.

After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.

One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 

You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.

Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨

Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting

When worlds collide fr 😏

Alright where the cameras at...

I fucking knew it!!!!

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

@runningfrom2am @chenslucy @whorelaud @drewsephrry @diqldrunks @rosezza @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @liliumz @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @yanna2coolz @stevesxwhore @minyoon23 @skywalker0809 @bxmaaa @anamiad00msday @ifwfratboychris @darkacademictrash @pwertiies @claudiamoscatoo @stir-knee-o-low @ratgirlcunt @drewstxrky

[rafecameronssl4t]

When in Charleston || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: you have a horrible encounter with one of Drew’s fans out in public.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 1,060

MASTERLIST

You and Drew stroll through the streets of Charleston, the cobblestones beneath your feet felt comforting and gave you a sense of familiarity. You had just arrived in South Carolina to support Drew whilst he was filming the next season of Outer Banks. Layla and Freddie, your lively dogs, bound ahead, their enthusiasm contagious as they sniff at every tree and shrub in their path.

Your arm was wrapped around Drew's waist as his arm rested around your shoulder making you closer to him as the two of you talked about anything and everything, just enjoying each other's company and the quietness of the street. Your peaceful stroll is interrupted when a young woman, probably in her early twenties, catches sight of Drew from across the street.

Her eyes light up with recognition, and she all but sprints towards you, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. You exchange a knowing glance with Drew—this isn’t your first encounter with a fan, and you’ve learned to take these moments in stride. “Hi, Drew!” she exclaims breathlessly, her excitement barely contained. Drew, ever the gentleman, offers her his signature warm smile. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asks, his tone friendly but measured.

The woman doesn’t seem to register his response, already fumbling with her phone. “Oh my god, can I take a picture with you?” she blurts out. Without so much as acknowledging your presence, the woman thrusts her phone into your hands. “Here, take this,” she says bluntly, her tone leaving little room for negotiation. The abruptness catches you off guard, and you hesitate for a moment before muttering, “Uh, okay.”

Drew’s eyebrows knit together slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face, though he masks it quickly. As you position the phone, the fan moves closer to Drew, looping her arm around his waist with a familiarity that makes your stomach tighten. Drew, ever respectful, keeps his hand hovering lightly on her back, his body language stiff. “Make sure it’s good,” she instructs sharply, glancing at you with a dismissive look before focusing all her attention back on Drew.

Drew shifts uncomfortably, clearly irritated by her lack of manners. Her tone is enough to make your cheeks burn, but you force a polite smile and frame the shot, snapping a couple of photos quickly. When you hand the phone back, she snatches it without so much as a “thank you,” her attention already fixed on the screen as she inspects the pictures. Satisfied, she offers Drew a quick, “Thanks!” before walking off, leaving you both standing there in an awkward silence.

Drew lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “She seemed nice,” he mutters, his sarcasm biting. You can’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, a real sweetheart,” you reply dryly. “They’re not usually like that, trust me,” he says, his irritation still evident. “It’s fine,” you reply, brushing it off, though the encounter left a small sting. Drew notices, of course, because he always does.

Sliding his arm around your shoulders, he pulls you in closer. “Don’t let it get to you,” he says, his tone softening. Then, with a cheeky grin, he adds, “I didn’t even really smile in the photo. So, joke’s on her.” You can’t help but laugh again, his humour cutting through the awkwardness of the moment. That’s one of the things you love most about Drew—his ability to make you feel better, no matter what.

Later that evening, as the two of you relax at home with Layla and Freddie curled up on the couch, Drew pulls out his phone. Typically, his Instagram is a mix of work updates and occasional behind-the-scenes shots, but tonight, he decides to share something more personal.

drewstarkey

Liked by yourusername, madelyncline, brooke_starkey, oliviajade and 2,937,180 other

I don’t usually post things like this, but it feels important to say. I absolutely love meeting you all and am always so grateful for your support—it truly means the world to me. That said, let’s remember to approach these moments with kindness and respect, not just towards me but also to the people who are important in my life. Being demanding, shoving phones in someone’s hands, or disregarding others isn’t the way to go. Let’s keep these interactions positive and memorable for all the right reasons. Much love to every one of you!

view all comments

yourusername: 🐶❤

↘️ drewstarkey: love you!

madelyncline: Always so proud of you for standing up for yourself and the people you love. You and Y/n deserve all the respect. imu guys!

↘️ yourusername: miss you more 🥺

alexademie: preach.

hichasestokes: Couldn’t have said it better myself, brother. Love you and your crew! 🙌

user1: You shouldn’t even have to say this, but I’m glad you did. You and your loved ones deserve all the respect in the world 🫶

user2: I seriously don’t understand people who call themselves “fans” and do disrespectful shit like this

user3: Is this about the incident that happened today??

↘️ user4: yup. It’s all over Twitter and tiktok rn

↘️ user5: the “fan” is getting slandered so hard rn

user6: wait I’m so confused. What happened?

↘️ user7: basically a “fan” came up to Drew and Y/n and demanded y/n to take the photo for them and she was just overall rude

user8: so funny how Drew isn’t even smiling in the photo 😭

↘️ user9: HAHAHAHHA I WANNA SEE THIS PIC

↘️ user10: it’s on TikTok!!

[gyaruhana]

Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games

Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you

Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.

A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..

Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh

You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.

Until today that is. 

You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 

Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.

Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.

By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 

The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 

The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.

The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.

“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 

With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 

As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 

As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 

Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.

He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.

“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.

You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.

“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 

“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.

Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 

He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 

With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 

He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.

You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 

“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 

“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 

He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.

The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.

The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.

"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.

He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.

“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.

“I know,”

[william-t-sickofyourshit]

William smiled when Sebastian sat down next to him and snuggled up close. He had Pawla in his lap, petting her gently, and Sebastian at his side. And of course William noticed that his boyfriend was babbling and was all excited, so that was a good sign - he was clearly in a great and carefree mood. 

William laughed when Sebastian mentioned that he was glad he didn’t have to share a house with the ‘scary butler’. Oh, William could understand that. Charlotte could be a handful, but she and Sebastian were clearly vibing. And William himself truly appreciated the quality time he got to spend with James. The butler was closer to him than his own father, and it was this kind of support that William really needed in this difficult time. 

“Heh, yeah, I noticed that too, when grandma was showing off all her antique store finds. She really got some things inspired by your decor. Seems like she was really impressed by your taste. Huge compliment.” William grinned. 

When Sebastian wrapped both arms around him and snuggled up close, so cute and content, William draped one arm over his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m glad you had fun, darling…” he whispered. 

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[dollyfiles]

asking bsf!rafe to take your virginity

cw: rafe x fem!reader, best friends to lovers, soft dom!rafe, first time, kissing, fingering, praise, p in v (protected), degradation, fluffy, i got a little carried away so it’s kinda long..whops

“so that’s why you’re acting all akward ‘n shit?” rafe asked, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. his tone was calm, though curiosity and concern laced his words. you nodded, pulling your knees to your chest as you sat cross-legged on his bed. “yea…that’s it,” you muttered, heat creeping up your cheeks. “it’s stupid, i know.”

“it’s not stupid,” rafe said immediately, his brows furrowing. “but seriously, y/n… that’s the only reason?”, “yes..” you admitted, feeling embarrassed. “and i already get it, okay? you can save your dumb jokes and make fun of me later, just like the girls did.”

rafe’s expression softened. “you think i’m gonna make fun of you? c’mon, i’m not an asshole.” you glanced at him, the sincerity in his voice easing your nerves slightly. “it’s just—” you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “i feel like a complete loser. i mean, almost 20 and still a virgin? how pathetic is that?”

“it’s not pathetic,” rafe said firmly, his voice steady. “why would it even matter? it’s not like there’s a deadline for this stuff.” you huffed, “you don’t get it,” frustration bubbling up again. “it’s not just that. tay and jill were sitting there, sharing their stories, and i couldn’t say anything. i felt like a freaking clueless kid, rafe. i don’t want to feel like that anymore. i just…i just want it to be over with already.”

rafe studied you carefully, his jaw tightening as he thought over your words. “y/n,” he started, his voice gentle but firm, “you don’t have to rush into something just because—”

“then you do it,” you blurted out, words tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself. the room went completely silent, and you immediately regretted how direct you had been, cheeks burning as you looked at rafe, his eye wide and face turning pale as he processed what you’d just said.

“wait—what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly, though he quickly recovered, “are you serious?” you swallowed hard, heart racing, but instead of chickening out, you met his gaze. “yea, I’m serious,” you said, “i don't want it to be with some random guy, and i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want it to be with someone i trust. and you’re the only person I trust, rafe.“

he blinked, processing what you were asking for. and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. you were his best friend, the one person he’d always been closest to, and now you were asking him to take your virginity. a million thoughts ran through his head, but one stood out; the idea of being your first didn’t just excite him—it drove him fucking wild. yet he tried to compose himself.

“y/n…” he began, feeling his resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. “are you sure about this? i mean, i don’t want you to regret anything.” you nodded, “i’m sure,” fidgeting with your shirt, “i trust you, rafe. i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t.”

he hesitated, the weight of your trust settling over him. “you’re really serious about this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “i am,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your eyes locked on his. “you’re the person I feel the safest with, ray. please, teach me.”

the way you said it—the trust in your voice, the vulnerability—made his heart race. he swallowed hard, his throat dry, and nodded slightly. "okay," he murmured, leaning closer, his eyes piercing through yours.

rafe moved slowly, giving you every opportunity to back out. his hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in, your lips brushing only softly at first. but as you responded, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, the kiss deepened, growing more intense.

your breaths mingled, and rafe's hands moved to your waist, guiding you gently as he eased you back onto the bed. "tell me if you want to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and warm.

"i won't," you assured him, biting your lip in anticipation. even though you felt super nervous, rafe’s presence calmed you down, his touch sending sparks through you. just then his fingers paused at the hem of your shirt, looking up at you with soft eyes, "can i...?"

"yes," you whispered. rafe slid the fabric up slowly, his movements deliberate and respectful. every step, every touch, was cautious, ensuring you were comfortable. he tossed the shirt aside, followed by your shorts, going until you were bare. his hands grazed your skin, pulling back slightly to take in your naked form, his breath catching in his throat.

he had seen you in bikinis countless times before, even underwear, but this—this was entirely different. the soft curves of your body, the delicate flush of your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with every nervous breath—he was utterly captivated. the fact that you had chosen him to be your first left him star-struck, a mixture of awe and protectiveness washing over him.

he swallowed hard, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as though afraid to break you. his voice was thick with emotion as he murmured, "you're fucking perfect." you gave him a small, shy smile, your hands fidgeting slightly at your sides. rafe leaned down, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, and the curve of your neck.

he could feel you relax beneath him, your body responding to his every move. when he reached just at your lower stomach, he paused, looking up at you with quiet intensity. "you tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?" you nodded, your heart racing. "mhm."

rafe’s hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot between your thighs, rubbing your clit in soft circles. the contact made you gasp, and he froze for a second, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. when he saw none he continued, his touch gentle and deliberate.

“it might feel weird or sting a little, okay? but I’ll be gentle, i promise.” he worked slowly, his fingers softly brushing through your slick folds before pushing one past your entrance. your breath hitched, winching slightly as his thick digit thrusted in and out of you, soon each motion eased the slight pain into something far more enjoyable.

rafe couldn't help but smile softly at your reactions, pride swelling in his chest as he watched you fall apart beneath his touch. "you’re doing so good," he cooed, his voice low and soothing.

your hands gripped the sheets, breaths coming faster, your head tipping back as waves of sensation washed over you. rafe stayed completely focused on you, his own desire burning inside him, but he pushed it aside. this wasn't about him. it was about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your first time being something you would never regret.

just as you felt yourself fall completely into it rafe removed his fingers from your weeping cunt, making you whine at the sudden loss of his touch. “shit, really can’t wait, can ya?” he teased, removing his own clothes before grabbing a condom from his wallet, pumping his cock a few times before rolling it down his shaft.

your breath caught in your throat as rafe stood before you, fully bare. you had expected to feel shy or embarrassed, but instead, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over you. he was perfect. his lean, sculpted body was like something out of a dream, every muscle defined, every line sharp, a literal walking god. your gaze lingered on his chest, his arms, trailing lower despite your best efforts to stop yourself. the heat in your face spread all the way to your core, and you bit your lip, trying not to openly gape at him.

rafe caught the way your eyes were literally ripping at him, the way your lips parted slightly, eyes wide with something that made his heart race and his ego burst out the roof. he chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the room.

your eyes were fixed on him, your heart fluttering. as he moved closer, preparing to guide you into unfamiliar territory, he noticed the nervousness flicker in your eyes. your body tensed slightly beneath him, and your breaths quickened, though you didn't pull away.

"hey," he murmured, his voice soft, his hand cupping your cheek gently. "look at me." your gaze met his, and the warmth in his eyes immediately soothed some of your nerves. "you don't have to be nervous," he said, brushing his thumb along your jawline. you nodded, chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. "i know," you whispered. "i trust you, rafe."

"good," he murmured, pressing his lips onto yours while lining himself up with your entrance, his tip brushing against your puffy clit before slowly pushing inside, making you audibly gasp. he was big, actually huge, stretching you out completely. when you winced slightly, he paused, pressing soothing kisses to your cheeks, making sure you were good to go before he started rocking his hips slowly.

your hands gripped his shoulders, your body gradually relaxing under his touch, the pleasure only growing from there. rafe was careful, controlled, making sure you felt comfortable and safe. and as you grew more confident, your hands began to roam over his body, nails digging into his back as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.

"rafe," you murmured breathlessly. he paused instantly, concern flickering in his gaze. "you okay?" he asked, brushing your hair back from your flushed face. your cheeks burned, and you hesitated for a moment before looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "i want...i need more. be rougher with me, please."

rafe froze, your words igniting something deep inside him. he studied your face, searching for any trace of doubt. but your expression was certain, eyes dark with desire. "y/n..." he began, his voice low, almost strained, "are you sure?"

"yes," you whispered, voice trembling but filled with need "want you, ray. all of you." your words snapped the last thread of his restraint. his lips crashed against yours, the kiss no longer soft and tentative but harsh, almost hungry. his hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as a low growl escaped his throat.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with desire. "you’re so damn perfect, letting me be your first. do you know how crazy that drives me?"

your breath hitched at his words, body arching beneath him. you hadn't expected the heat that surged through you at the sound of his growly voice, making your head spin. "tell me," you whispered, voice shaking, “tell me everything."

his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he grunted, "you’re such a naughty little bunny. letting your best friend pop your cherry like this. shit—do you know how bad i’ve wanted you? how many times i’ve imagined this?" your gasp turned into a moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders, cunt clenching around his cock. "rafe..."

"you like that, huh?" he murmured, his voice dripping with need. "you like knowing how much i’ve wanted you? how long i’ve been holding back on pounding this sweet pussy?" he bit down on your shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue as his grip on your hips tightened.

you could barely form a sentence, your mind going all fuzzy from his words and the way he made you feel. "yes," you breathed. "i love it.” rafe huffed, “say it again," he commanded, his tone firm as his movements grew more intense, abusing your wet cunt. "say you fucking love it."

"i love it," you cried out, voice breaking as you felt a tight knot forming in your lower stomach, his hips meeting yours with every thrust, "love it so much."

that broke something inside him. he couldn't hold back anymore, his movements turning fierce and desperate, thrusting into you harder, his hands and lips claiming every inch of you as his own. “that’s my girl.” he smiled through gritted teeth, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter, “gonna cum for me pretty bunny? make a mess all over my cock?”

you couldn’t hold it in anymore, arching your back as your head pressed down into the pillows, your orgasm rushing over you while crying out his name. rafe was absolutely going crazy, the sight of you cuming because of him was heaven sent, making him moan.

"you’re mine, y/n," he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear as he helped you ride out your orgasm, “do ya’ hear me? you’re mine now. no one else gets to touch you like this."

"yes" you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair. "only you, ray." his movements grew sloppier the closer he got to releasing, his hips bucking into you, cock twitching inside your pulsing cunt as he filled up the condom with his seed, “fucking shit..”

the room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing as rafe hovered over you, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up. his chest rose and fell against yours, his cock still buried inside you. your hands were resting on his shoulders, fingers tracing the faint lines of his muscles as you tried to catch your breath. your cheeks were flushed, hair messy and splayed out on the pillow beneath, but to rafe, you had never looked more beautiful.

he dipped his head, brushing soft, featherlight kisses along your jawline, then your cheek, and finally your lips. “you’re amazing," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and breathless. "so good. you were so, so good." he pressed another kiss to the curve of your neck before meeting your gaze, his blue eyes shining with admiration. "you have no idea how proud i am of you."

you let out a soft laugh, still trying to process everything. "i don't think anyone's ever said that to me... like this," you whispered, voice tinged with a slight shyness. "well, get used to it," rafe said with a small smirk, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "because i'm never letting you go now."

tags: @rafesbangs @rafesheaven @littlelamy @vampteeths @filthyrafe @figthoughts @pintrestgrl @kissyrafe @bambiangels @beausling @starzify

[my-castles-crumbling]

Tower - January 7th - jegulus - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 343

One of the things Sirius liked most about getting to know his little brother again after they’d both left Grimmauld Place was sharing all of the little things with him. Catching up on Regulus’s life, his friends, his hobbies, and Regulus doing the same with him. It seemed silly, but it felt like they were making up for lost time, and then some, and he relished those moments.

So he was excited to bring Regulus to the Gryffindor Tower for the first time.

Now, he knew that the rules on bringing other students to the Common Room were a bit…vague. People certainly did it, but it wasn’t exactly advised. But he was excited to share this piece of his life with his brother. To show him a part of the castle he’d never been to. Maybe in the future, he’d show him some secret passages and hidden rooms, too! His heart warmed at the thought.

“...so this is it,” he grinned, guiding the sixth year into the cozy space, grinning happily to himself when Regulus moved right away to a particularly overstuffed chair, like he was already making himself at home. “What do you think?”

“It’s a bit more…busy…than our Common Room,” Regulus murmured, rolling his eyes. “But it’s comfortable.

And Sirius took this as the highest of compliments. 

They sat for a while, just talking and playing Exploding Snap, when Regulus asked stiffly, “Can I borrow a jumper? It’s a bit cold, and I don’t feel like going downstairs to get mine.”

“Sure!” Sirius nodded, caught up in collecting the singed cards from their last round.

It wasn’t until Regulus returned, wrapped in a slightly-oversized knitted jumper from Mrs. Potter that Sirius realized. “Hey, Reg?” he asked, completely confused. “How do you know where my dorm is?”

The younger boy froze, looking terrified. “Er…I…”

And then Sirius realized something else. “Hey, Reg?” he asked, slightly more annoyed, now. “Why’re you wearing James’s jumper?”

Regulus just sat, biting his lip and looking guilty.

The conversation took on a completely new topic after that. 

[cherryxbooo]

You deserve only the best

Summary: Y/n falls for her best friend Carlos, but after he introduces his new lover, she discovers his true intentions. Heartbroken, she tries to move on.

Reader x Carlos Sainz

Genre: fluff/angst

Carlos Sainz had been my best friend for as long as I could remember.

We shared everything, inside jokes, moments of laughter, and a bond that felt unbreakable.

For years, we had been inseparable. Yet, for just as long, I had harbored feelings for him that I had kept hidden.

The truth was, I was in love with him, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I was terrified of ruining our friendship, which meant the world to me.

So, I stayed silent, even as my heart would race whenever he would act affectionate toward me, kissing my cheek, calling me pet names like "mi amor" or "querida," or giving me those long, lingering glances that made me believe he might feel the same.

It was complicated, especially when he’d kissed me a few times, nothing too serious, but enough to leave me wondering if something more could come from it.

I wanted to believe that he felt the same, but I was too afraid to make the first move, too afraid of pushing him away.

Then, one fateful day, everything changed.

We were at the paddock during one of his races.

The excitement in the air was palpable, the sound of engines roaring, the buzz of fans, the rush of adrenaline.

It was a typical race day, but something caught my eye that I hadn’t expected to see, Carlos talking to a girl.

A random girl. She was standing next to him, laughing, clearly comfortable in his presence.

I felt a twinge of jealousy course through me as I watched them. I didn’t know who she was, but something about the way they were standing so close made my stomach twist.

I immediately tried to push the feeling aside, but it was impossible. I needed answers.

I couldn’t just ignore it, so I approached Lando, who had become one of my closest friends over time.

I figured he might know who she was.

“Hey, Lando,” I began, trying to sound casual. “Do you know who that girl is? The one with Carlos?”

Lando glanced over, then shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve seen her before. Why? You don’t like her or something?”

I gave a small laugh, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “No, I’m just curious.”

Lando gave me a knowing look but didn’t push further. “You should ask Carlos, though. He’ll tell you.”

I nodded, though my mind was already racing.

I made my way back to the Ferrari garage, trying to shake the knot in my stomach.

I wasn’t ready to confront him, but I had to. I needed answers.

When I got there, Carlos spotted me right away. “Y/N!” he called out, a wide smile lighting up his face.

He waved me over, and I walked toward him, hoping to mask the turmoil inside me.

As soon as I got closer, he introduced the girl who had been standing next to him earlier.

“This is Sofia,” Carlos said, his voice filled with warmth. “My girlfriend.”

The ground seemed to fall out from under me. My heart sank into my stomach, and for a moment, I couldn’t find my breath.

My hands suddenly felt clammy, and I forced myself to smile, though it felt more like a grimace.

“Nice to meet you, Sofia,” I said, my voice steady, even though I felt anything but.

I turned quickly, excusing myself from their presence, and walked away before they could see the hurt that flashed across my face.

I barely made it to the restroom before the tears started falling.

I locked myself in a stall, letting my emotions spill out.

Why had I been so foolish to believe that Carlos could feel the same? I had spent so much time hiding my feelings, convincing myself that he might care for me, but here he was, with a new girlfriend.

But why would he lead me on? Kiss me, hug me, cuddle me, give me pet names?

Was it because I was too naive which made him take advantage of me?

Clearly.

He had never given me any reason to think otherwise, he had always been affectionate, always flirted, but it was all in my head, wasn’t it?

He never saw me as more than a friend. Just as someone to pass time with.

After a few minutes of crying, I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and told myself to stop.

Carlos didn’t deserve my tears. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I had no right to feel like this.

I walked out of the restroom, determined to leave the paddock. I couldn’t bear to stay and watch him with her.

I needed to put myself first.

As I walked toward the exit, I bumped into Lando.

He took one look at my tear-streaked face and immediately pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I shook my head, unable to speak for a moment. “I can’t do it, Lando. I can’t stay here and watch him with her. It hurts too much.”

Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes soft. “You don’t have to stay. You know you can always come to my garage.”

I smiled weakly at him, grateful for his kindness. “I need some time alone, Lando. But thank you.”

He nodded understandingly. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

I hugged him tightly before walking away.

I knew Lando understood, he was the only one who knew how I felt about Carlos.

Back in my hotel room later that evening, I let myself cry. The tears came without warning, a flood of emotions that I had kept buried for so long.

They were painful, but I needed them. They had been building up for weeks, months, even years because I had been lying to myself.

I had let Carlos get too close to my heart, pretending he was everything I needed, hoping he would eventually realize that we were meant to be together.

I had allowed myself to become wrapped up in his promises, those little gestures that I now realized had only ever been casual flirtations.

The kisses on my cheek that made my heart race.

The way he would hold me close for just a second longer than necessary, as if our closeness was more than just friendship.

I had convinced myself those moments meant something.

But now, all I had was the overwhelming truth that I had been foolish.

Carlos didn’t want me. He had never truly wanted me.

But more than anything, I was angry at myself. How had I let him take up so much space in my life without ever truly giving me what I deserved?

I had spent so much time convincing myself that he would come around, that he would eventually see how perfect we were for each other.

But he had never promised me anything. He never made me a priority.

And when it came down to it, when he found someone else, I was just... nothing.

I was left standing there, heartbroken, all the while wondering if it was somehow my fault.

But as the night dragged on, something shifted within me. The tears slowed, and I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me, the one who had let Carlos walk all over her, the one who had been too afraid to face the truth.

It was time to change.

I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep holding onto something that wasn’t real.

It wasn’t Carlos who needed to change; it was me. I needed to find my own happiness.

I had been so wrapped up in waiting for Carlos to realize how great we could be together that I had forgotten to love myself first.

The truth was, I had allowed him to use me. I had been there for him when he needed me, while he toyed with my emotions, knowing that he had me hooked.

I had been loyal, caring, and patient, but none of that mattered to him.

It was time for me to stop chasing after a love that had never been meant for me. Carlos didn’t deserve me.

I swallowed hard, the weight of the realization sinking in. I wasn’t perfect, but I had so much to offer.

I deserved someone who would see me, appreciate me, and treat me with the respect I had given him.

I wasn’t going to wait around any longer.

It was time to focus on myself, to heal, and to become the best version of me that I could be.

I was worthy of real love, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

Weeks passed, and I slowly started to feel the fog lift.

I spent more time on self-care; going to the gym, reading books I had long ignored, and enjoying the things I loved without the cloud of uncertainty hanging over me.

It wasn’t easy.

Some days were better than others. But I was finally starting to feel like myself again.

I spent a lot of time with my friends, especially Lando.

He had been such a rock for me through everything, and I could never thank him enough for always having my back.

One afternoon, we were having lunch together when he looked at me, his eyes full of concern.

“How are you really holding up?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

I had been trying to push everything down, but Lando could see through me.

“Honestly? I’m not doing great. But I’m getting there, Lando. Slowly, but surely.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Have you heard from Carlos?”

The question hit me like a punch in the gut.

I tried to act unaffected, but the truth was, I hadn’t heard from him since that day at the paddock.

He hadn’t called, texted, or even checked in on me.

“No. Not since that day. I haven’t heard a word from him,” I said, my voice tight.

Lando frowned, shaking his head. “That’s messed up. He’s been distancing himself, huh?”

I nodded, my chest tightening as I remembered the way Carlos had moved on so easily.

It stung, but I didn’t want to dwell on it anymore.

“He’s got Sofia now. I don’t think he cares about me at all. And honestly? I’m done caring. He made his choice.”

Lando’s face softened, and he reached across the table to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re doing so much better, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

I smiled at him, a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, Lando. It means a lot to me.”

We spent the rest of the lunch talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s company.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I was starting to come back to life.

I had been so consumed by Carlos and his inability to see my worth, but now I realized that I didn’t need him. I was enough on my own.

A month passed, and I was feeling stronger than ever.

I had rediscovered my love for life, for the things that made me happy.

I was no longer sitting around waiting for Carlos to give me the validation I craved.

I was content on my own.

One day, I was supporting Lando at a race, as I always did.

I was walking down the hallway of the paddock when I spotted Carlos talking to Sofia.

They were standing close together, whispering to each other, but as I got closer, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of their conversation.

They were fighting. Loudly.

I turned the corner and kept walking, but my mind was racing. I didn’t want to get involved in their drama, but it felt strange.

For a second, I wondered if Carlos was starting to see the same thing I had.

Maybe Sofia wasn’t as perfect as he thought she was.

I didn’t care. I didn’t need him to come back to me, I had moved on, or so I thought.

When I got back to McLaren’s garage, I asked Lando,

“Have you heard anything about Carlos and Sofia?”

He shrugged. “I’ve heard they’ve been fighting a lot lately. He’s been acting... different.”

“I think he’s starting to see her true colors.” I said, feeling a strange sense of vindication.

Lando nodded, agreeing with me.

“Could be. But don’t waste your energy on it, Y/N. You’re better off without him.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Lando was right.

I had spent too much of my time focusing on someone who didn’t deserve me. I was finally free.

A week later, I was running late to meet Lando for lunch.

As I rushed through the hallway, I accidentally bumped into someone.

Papers flew everywhere, and I quickly apologized, bending down to help gather them up.

But when I looked up, my breath caught in my throat.

Standing in front of me was a man who was everything I wasn’t expecting.

Tall, dark-haired, wearing a sharp suit that clung to his broad shoulders.

His smile was warm, magnetic.

There was something about him that made me feel instantly at ease, yet also strangely excited.

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice smooth and confident.

“But you’re in a rush, huh?”

I laughed, trying to hide my flustered reaction. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

We finished gathering the papers, and when our eyes met again, there was a spark. It was undeniable.

“You sure you’re not in too much of a rush?” he asked, a teasing smile curling on his lips.

I smiled back, shaking my head. “No, I’m good. Just feeling bad about bumping into you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, the best way to make it up to me is by giving me your number.”

My heart skipped a beat, and for a second, I couldn’t quite process what was happening.

But then I realized... he was serious.

I had been so wrapped up in Carlos’s drama for so long that I had forgotten how to enjoy moments like this.

I had forgotten that there were good people out there who actually valued me for who I was.

I blinked in surprise but couldn’t hide my grin. “Okay. You’ve got my number.”

He chuckled, clearly pleased. “I’m Pablo, by the way. I’ll be in touch.”

I watched him walk away, a rush of excitement swirling in my chest.

Maybe this was what I needed, a fresh start, someone who actually saw me.

As I rushed to meet Lando, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Who was that?” Lando asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"His name's Pablo. We bumped into each other, and one thing led to another. He asked for my number."

I said, unable to hide the grin on my face.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Look at you, getting a man.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin. “We'll see where this leads."

The next weekend, the excitement was palpable.

I had agreed to go on a date with Pablo after weeks of messages, calls, and a growing connection.

I was ready to experience this new chapter with someone who treated me like I deserved.

The day arrived, and I spent the afternoon getting ready, wanting to look my best.

I carefully picked out a beautiful dress, a deep emerald green that accentuated my curves, with a delicate lace overlay.

It was elegant, but not too flashy.

I wore my hair down, letting it cascade in soft waves, and my makeup was done elegantly, with just a hint of smokey eyeshadow and a natural, rosy lip.

I was almost finished when I heard the sound of the doorbell ring.

My heart skipped a beat.

As I walked to the door, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

When I opened it, I was met with Pablo, standing there with a charming smile, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"For you, beautiful." His voice was warm, and his eyes gleamed with admiration.

The flowers were soft pastel colors, delicate and fragrant.

I took them from his hands with a smile, feeling my cheeks flush under his gaze.

“Thank you, Pablo. They’re gorgeous.” I felt a wave of appreciation for how thoughtful he was.

He gave a small laugh, eyes twinkling.

“Not as gorgeous as you.” His words made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Pablo was always so attentive, and there was something incredibly genuine about him.

As we walked toward his car, I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he carried himself.

He opened the door of a Mercedes AMG for me, a sleek, expensive car that screamed wealth.

It was clear that this man was not just well-off; he was successful.

I knew a thing or two about cars.

Lando, my best friend, was obsessed with them, and wouldn't shut up about them.

He had so many that his garage looked like a car dealership.

The moment I saw the car, I immediately recognized the luxury, and I couldn’t help but feel impressed.

“Wow, this is gorgeous.” I couldn’t help but comment as I got in, still absorbing the interior.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s a little over the top, but sometimes, you just have to enjoy the finer things.”

He chuckled, settling into the driver’s seat. “But tonight’s about you, not the car.”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with pleasant conversation.

We talked about everything, his work, my passions, the places we wanted to visit.

He was thoughtful, but also funny and charming in a way that made me feel completely at ease.

The smooth hum of the engine only added to the calming atmosphere, and before I knew it, we had arrived at a stunning restaurant.

As we entered, the ambiance was just as sophisticated as the car.

Dim lighting, soft music playing in the background, it was the kind of place you came for an unforgettable night.

We were escorted to a private table, and as we sat down, I felt the weight of the evening's beauty surrounding us.

Everything about the night felt magical.

Over dinner, we continued to share stories and laughs.

I learned more about Pablo, his roots in Spain, his work as a CEO, and how he’d built his empire from the ground up.

It was a little ironic, hearing his story.

A Spanish man, an international success, yet here he was, sitting across from me, making me feel like the most important person in the world.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re a CEO,” I laughed, a little taken aback by how humble and down-to-earth he was.

“It’s almost too perfect, don’t you think? Spanish, successful, charming…”

He smiled, a hint of pride in his expression.

“It’s been a journey, but I love what I do.”

Then, his smile softened. “But I’m happier that I get to spend this time with you.”

I blushed, looking down at my plate for a moment, feeling a sense of warmth wash over me.

Pablo wasn’t just charming, he was genuine, and that made him stand out even more.

It felt like I was finally being seen for who I truly was, not just the exterior.

Months passed, and my relationship with Pablo deepened. We spent time together, growing closer with each passing day.

It was clear that he was everything Carlos had never been: supportive, caring, and loving in a way that made me feel truly special.

One evening, after a romantic dinner, as we strolled through the park, he stopped and turned to face me, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“Y/N, I like you a lot,” he said, his voice soft and serious.

“I want to be with you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

My heart swelled with happiness, and without hesitation, I responded,

“Yes, Pablo. I’d love that.”

It was a moment that felt like the beginning of something incredible, and over the months that followed, Pablo continued to prove that he was a man who meant every word he said.

He made me feel loved, respected, and cherished every single day.

Now, it was Friday again. This time, Lando had invited both Pablo and me to his race.

I was excited, Lando had always been a great friend, and it was nice that he and Pablo got along so well.

It made me happy to see the two important men in my life getting along.

Pablo and I were getting ready at the hotel, and I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

I wore a simple but elegant outfit, jeans and a fitted blouse, comfortable yet stylish.

As we walked hand-in-hand to the paddock, my heart was full.

The sound of the crowd, the engines revving, the electric energy in the air, it all felt so alive.

We met up with Lando, and he gave us both a big hug, making us feel welcome in his world.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it.” Lando’s smile was infectious.

He and Pablo exchanged pleasantries, and I could see the camaraderie between them.

It made my heart swell, seeing how well they got along.

After chatting with Lando for a while, he had to leave to prepare for the race.

Pablo and I stayed behind, walking around the paddock, taking in the excitement.

But then, Pablo excused himself to use the restroom.

As I stood alone for a moment, I caught a glimpse of Carlos out of the corner of my eye.

My stomach twisted, but it was too late to run.

He spotted me immediately and started walking in my direction.

When he finally reached me, he greeted me with an awkward smile, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

“Y/N, it’s been a while.”

I raised an eyebrow, my voice cool as I responded, “Has it?”

Carlos could sense the tension.

Carlos’ voice faltered slightly as he spoke, the words tumbling out quickly.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should’ve reached out to you sooner.” His eyes met mine, genuine regret flickering in them.

“I miss you. I’ve missed you so much.”

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my composure.

“Carlos, it’s not that simple.” I kept my tone cool, almost distant.

“You didn’t reach out because you didn’t care. You chose not to.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening.

“I know… I messed up. I get it now, Y/N. I broke up with Sofia. I’ve realized that you’re the one I love. I was just too stubborn to see it before.”

I couldn’t help but let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Carlos, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t have been with her in the first place. You wouldn't have used me for your own pleasure.”

My voice was steady, but the pain was evident. “You don’t get to come back just because you made a mistake.”

His expression hardened, but I could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I was confused, and I didn’t know what I wanted. But now, I know. I want you.”

He stepped closer, his voice soft and pleading.

“Please, just give me one more chance.”

The words stung, a mixture of old feelings and fresh wounds reopening.

I shook my head, pushing my emotions down.

“Carlos, I’m not that person anymore. You don’t get to rewrite history.”

My voice remained firm, the hurt too deep to ignore.

“You had your chance, and you chose someone else. I can’t just forget that.”

Carlos didn't expect that he was probably used to me always giving in.

“I didn’t want you anyways,” Carlos sneered, his words biting.

“I would’ve just used you like I did in the past, all the times you were too naive to even acknowledge that. Did you really think I wanted you in the first place?”

My heart stung at his words, but I refused to let him see that.

I could feel the old ache in my chest, the hurt from everything he had put me through, but I wasn’t going to let him win with his manipulation.

I stood tall, my gaze unwavering as I faced him.

“You’re pathetic, Carlos,” I said coldly, my voice steady.

“You never wanted me. You wanted control. And I’m done being your puppet.”

His eyes widened at my comeback, as if he hadn't expected me to stand up for myself.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore, the one who let him play with my emotions, the one who waited for him to change.

“So no, Carlos, I didn’t think you wanted me. Not then, and certainly not now.”

Before he could respond, I felt a familiar hand on my waist, and Pablo appeared, towering above me, his presence protective.

“There was a long line at the bathroom,” Pablo said smoothly, his voice calm but firm.

“Sorry it took so long, mi amor.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek before turning back to Carlos.

Carlos was frozen, staring at Pablo in disbelief.

“Mi amor?” He repeated, clearly stunned by the affection between us.

Pablo didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I’m Pablo Lopez. Nice to meet you, Carlos Sainz right? Best of luck with the race.”

His tone was polite, but there was an edge to it, one that made it clear he knew exactly who Carlos was and what had happened between us.

Carlos was speechless, clearly thrown off.

As I turned to walk away with Pablo, I heard Carlos’ voice call out to me, and I couldn’t ignore the familiar tug in my chest.

I stopped and turned slightly, reluctantly facing him again.

He walked toward us with a hesitant expression, clearly unsure of how to approach the situation.

"Y/N..." he began, his voice softer than before.

"Would you... would you want to watch the race from my garage? Like old times? I could really use your support today."

For a moment, I felt the weight of those words.

Old times. The days when I thought we’d always be in each other’s lives. But that wasn’t who I was anymore.

I didn’t owe him anything.

Before I could say anything, I felt Pablo’s arm tighten around me, his presence a strong shield by my side.

He didn’t hesitate for a second as he stepped forward, his tone calm but unwavering.

“No,” Pablo said firmly, his voice carrying the kind of authority that made it clear there was no room for negotiation.

"We’re with Lando today. We’re supporting him from his garage."

His words were a stark contrast to Carlos’ hopeful tone, and I could see Carlos' face falter at the certainty in Pablo’s voice.

Carlos blinked, taken aback by the decisiveness in Pablo’s response. He seemed to pause, trying to process what had just happened.

The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. His eyes flickered between Pablo and me, and I could see the understanding settle in.

He’d messed up, and he had no one to blame but himself.

“We’re going to Lando’s garage,” Pablo added smoothly, a subtle but deliberate edge to his words.

“We’ve already made plans. Best of luck with the race.”

Carlos opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was speechless.

The look on his face was a mixture of surprise and regret, as if he was finally starting to understand just how much he’d fumbled this entire situation.

I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at seeing him so flustered, but I reminded myself to stay composed.

This was his fault, and the reality of what he had lost was only just beginning to hit him.

“Let’s go, mi amor,”

Pablo said gently, placing his hand on my lower back as he led me away, giving Carlos one last glance that left no room for misunderstanding.

As we began to walk away from Carlos, I felt a surge of relief, but Pablo wasn’t quite finished yet.

He shot a glance back over his shoulder at Carlos, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The tension in the air was thick, and Pablo, always confident, was going to make sure Carlos knew just how badly he’d messed up.

With a sly tone, Pablo called over his shoulder,

“If you wouldn’t have fumbled this bad, you might’ve had the privilege of having this beauty with you... but guess not.”

Carlos froze, his expression going from shock to something like embarrassment in an instant.

He didn’t even have time to respond before we turned our backs, walking away with our hands firmly clasped together.

I couldn’t help but laugh softly at Pablo’s words. He was never one to hold back, but the way he handled that moment made me feel even more secure in the choice I had made.

As we walked down the hallway, Pablo leaned closer to me, his arm brushing mine, his voice softening.

“I’m just stating facts, mi amor,” he whispered, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I smiled up at him, shaking my head slightly. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Only for you,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

And just like that, the past felt even more distant, as if it never even mattered anymore.

The farther we got from Carlos, the more I could feel the weight lifting off my shoulders.

I was with someone who truly valued me, someone who had proven time and time again that I was more than just an afterthought.

And as we made our way to Lando’s garage, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing I had made the right choice.

As we walked toward the garage, Pablo turned to me with a concerned look. “Are you okay, mi amor?”

I smiled, my heart full from the kindness he showed. “I’m more than okay, because of you.”

He smiled back, pulling me in for a gentle kiss.

“I’ll always be here for you, no matter what."

"You deserve only the best."

"Te quiero, amor.”

Before I could respond, Lando’s voice echoed from behind us, shouting,

“Ewww, get a room!”

We laughed, but I could see the joy in Lando’s face.

He was happy for me, happy that I had finally found someone who made me feel truly loved and valued.

And as Pablo and I walked toward the rest of our evening, hand in hand, I knew without a doubt that I had found my happiness.

The past was behind me. My future was with Pablo.

The end

[4701rose]

Gloridriana smiles beatifically as she spun the tiny blood-red orbs that were her signature opening before dropping a meteor shower on whatever fool was trying to ruin her day today. “Any last words, oh noble hero?” She purred. Her white cat ears flicked backwards with excitement. Her chin to knee length robe was dyed sky blue and impeccable. Not a speck of blood had been allowed to touch her while she torched my party. 

I looked around at what was left of our party. The white mage had been the first to collapse. Gloridriana had targeted her specifically. It’s just the way things are done, she’d said with that smug smile coloring her voice. The archer was down, too, and so was our hulking walking wall of muscle. That just left me, the damage dealer. I should’ve been put down first, but here I was, surrounded by people I loved, watching Gloriadriana yawn theatrically like the best we’d been able to throw at her had been, at best, boring. 

There was a shield buckler strapped to my arm and a shortsword in my hand. I threw them both down on the ground. Gloridriana paused as I spread my arms out wide. “Do your worst, Gloriadriana,” I said. My toothy smile had blood in it. “It’s already been the week from hell and then some.” 

I closed my eyes, expecting to feel her flames kiss my skin, burning me up into nothing but ash, gone with the wind. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I popped one eye open to stare at Gloridriana, wondering what the hold-up was. This is supposed to be over already, I thought. 

I thought about dishes undone in my sink and my ex-girlfriend leaving me because she ‘found someone better, more stable’, how my cat was sick but I didn’t have the money to pay for her medicine, how I hadn’t paid my rent in three months and the landlandy was getting pretty short with me and – 

This was supposed to be an easy job. 

No such luck, I thought to myself. Then, unbidden, No rest for the wicked. I don’t even know where the thought came from, but it felt true. It felt like pressing on a bruise, just to hurt for a while, to make my problems seem less immediate and smaller in comparison to the pain. 

Gloridriana was staring at me. There was a troubled look in her fool’s gold green eyes. The lines around her mouth were drawn tight, like the ropes on a ship. The longer I stood there, staring at her, her looking at me like a cat that shat on the carpet, the more tired my arms got. I let them drop. 

“What? Are your words empty?” I asked her. 

“No,” Gloridriana said as she floated down to my eye level. “I just… wasn’t expecting that response.” She was quiet for a moment, her shrewd eyes scanning me up and down. I guess she didn’t like what she saw, because her eyes narrowed and her frown deepened. “Walk with me,” she told, more like ordered, me as she shifted in mid-air and began to float away from the road running through the forest, more towards her cottage in the distance. 

I looked around at the fallen bodies around me. I knew they’d be fine – the guild had a very skilled necromancer on staff for this very reason – but it felt weird to leave here. What if something happens to them while I’m not here? 

When I looked up, Gloridriana was staring at me like I’d done something else unexpected. “What.” I said, out of patience. That was the trouble with wizards, they knew all sorts of things, and never expected you not to make the same immediate jumps in logic they could. So they shared nothing at all, leaving you feeling more broken than you did before. 

Gloridriana shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Follow me.” 

I sighed, but it wasn’t exactly like I had anything better to be doing. The client was long gone, and with him, my paycheck, too. 

“Sure.” 

I followed along in silence as Gloridriana floated above the muck and the toads and the pristine white water lilies. She’d made her home in the swamp. The forest path my party and I had been planning to take had bordered the swamp, but nobody thought anything of it. “It’s been so long,” I can remember one of my party members saying, “Surely she’s dead by now?” Joke’s on them. Gloridriana could still cow the king into giving up his daughter if need be. Even if his daughter is pushing forty at this point. 

I sloughed through the muck and the mud, swatted mosquitoes, and eyed Gloriadriana’s back. I had no idea what she needed me for. Maybe she was making a potion that needed fresh human blood? What would I know of such things? I’m just a swordsman, plain and simple. 

Gloridriana’s welcoming mat was pretty cool. As soon as I set foot on it, it clicked its tongue at me and said, “We can’t have that inside the house,” and then, boom, no more mess! I’m pretty sure my clothes haven’t been this clean since before, well. Since before Yuri left, at least. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Gloridriana instructed as she floated off towards a closed door. “I need to make a call, won’t be a moment.” 

I looked around at her hut. There was a cauldron bubbling over the fireplace. It smelled a lot more like mutton stew than like human remains. Carefully, I stepped across the room to the chair by the fire. I warmed my hands over the flames, let the heat sink into my bones. My shoulders slumped. 

I wonder how much money I can make, selling the location of Gloridriana’s new place, I thought to myself in an absent kind of way. I was looking at the rafters, then, looking at the tidy bundles of dried lavender and sage, ropes of garlic and chilis. It was surprisingly mundane. I had this image in my head of Gloridriana braiding bulbs of garlic by their hair and it was enough to make me question every minute that gotten me to this point. 

Am I awake or asleep, I asked myself. I pinched my neck to be sure. Nope. Unfortunately, still awake. Still living the dream life. 

Gloridriana bustled back in before I had to really ruminate, her sky-blue robes swapped out for something more homely. She took out a potholder and used it to swing a cast-iron teapot off of the flames. She poured me a cup of tea, chamomile by the scent of it, then found a place to perch with her own cup of tea nestled between her two hands. 

“Now, dearie, I insist you tell me everything,” Gloridriana told me, her voice softer than I had ever heard it, “What led you to this point?” 

At first, I didn’t even know what to say. No one just kinda asks that, y’know? Point-blank. I’ve had a lot of people give me side-eye, but this is the first time someone asked. I must’ve looked worse than I thought. 

I told her. I told her everything. At some point we went from sitting on the opposite ends of the room to me having my face nestled in her lap as she stroked my back and made these little soothing noises that just made me cry harder. It had been a busy week. I hadn’t taken the time to process it. By the time I was done, all dried up of tears, my face bright red because sweet Merlin did I really just do that, Gloridriana told me that she has someone she thinks I would like to talk to, and she’d set something up for next week and it was all arranged, so don’t go saying no now. 

I’d never been happier to fail at my job. 

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

[rootedinrevisions]

Where the Night Ends

SUMMARY: After an evening in the spotlight, Glen Powell’s biggest night of the year is more than just red carpets and bright lights—it’s a celebration of his career and a test of his resilience. Through the glamour and chaos, you’re by his side, offering him a safe space to share the highs and the inevitable disappointments. In the quiet hours after the applause fades, the two of you find strength in each other, proving that true connection shines brighter than any award.

A/N: This story was inspired by the idea for a story I've had for a while for Glen that even the most charismatic and confident people, like Glen Powell, have quieter, more vulnerable sides they don’t often show the world. While Glen’s charm and upbeat personality make him shine in the public eye, I wanted to imagine what those quiet, intimate moments might look like—the ones where he allows himself to relax and let his guard down with someone he trusts completely. And I thought tonight with the Golden Globes and him not winning would be a perfect way to explore this idea I've had. Also I don't know why but Glen low key gives me golden retriever boyfriend vibes so there's some of that in here as well!

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Your Likes, Comments, and Reblogs mean the world to me and help me continue creating stories like this one.

WARNINGS: Nudity (No Smut, just non-sexual but intimate nudity).

TAGS: In comments.

You glance at your reflection one last time, running your hands down the smooth fabric of your gown. The luxurious satin hugs your body in all the right places, the deep color shimmering subtly under the bathroom light. The rich hue perfectly complements Glen’s sharp, classic black ensemble, and you can't help but imagine how great the two of you will look together tonight. The gold accents on your bracelet catch the light with every movement, adding a hint of warmth to the otherwise cool tones of the dress. It feels like magic—elegant, understated, and yet striking in its own quiet way. The gown pools slightly at your feet, as if it were made for you.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach. This is your first time attending such an event with Glen, despite the time you’ve been together. You won’t be walking the red carpet beside him, and the idea of staying in the background, on the sidelines, makes you both excited and slightly anxious. You're not used to this kind of attention, and tonight, all eyes will be on him.

Before you can let the nerves fully settle in, you hear Glen's voice. His warm, familiar tone breaks through the quiet of the hotel room.

"Damn," he murmurs from the doorway, his voice a little breathless. "I thought the Golden Globes were supposed to be the main event tonight, but now I’m not so sure."

You turn toward him, your heart skipping a beat. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a grin, his velvet jacket catching the light. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something in them—a mixture of admiration, affection, and something deeper.

He takes a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving yours, and wraps his arms around you from behind. His chest presses into your back, warm and solid, grounding you in the moment. His breath brushes against your ear, soft and gentle.

"You look incredible," he says, voice low and reverent, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. The warmth of his embrace settles your nerves, and the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding begins to melt away.

His presence is like a balm, soothing your anxieties. You lean back into him, the soft beat of his heart against your back comforting you. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy before the whirlwind of the night begins.

"You sure I’m not going to embarrass you in front of all those cameras?" you tease, glancing back at him with a playful smile.

Glen chuckles softly, tightening his arms around you just a little. "You couldn’t embarrass me if you tried," he murmurs, his voice steady. "Besides I think my mom and dad have the embarrassing moments covered."

You both laugh softly, but the smile that stretches across his face is real—genuine, almost vulnerable in a way that only you get to see. It’s a rare, quiet moment that makes you feel all the more certain of the love you share.

You take a deep breath, your nerves settling as you feel the warmth of his body surrounding you. His embrace is a reminder of the calm you’ve come to rely on in the chaos of this world—his, and now yours.

"Alright, I think it’s time to get going," you say softly, turning slightly to grab your coat from the chair.

Glen kisses your cheek before you both head for the door, his hand brushing yours as you step into the next phase of the night.

You and Glen step out of the hotel room, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin as the door clicks shut behind you. Glen’s hand finds yours almost instinctively, the familiar warmth of his touch grounding you once again. You give him a small smile, feeling the shift from the quiet intimacy of the room to the bustle of the world outside.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice warm but laced with a hint of excitement. His eyes twinkle, full of that effortless charm he seems to carry with him no matter where he goes.

"Ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The elevator ride down to the lobby is quick, but the silence between you is comfortable. Glen’s thumb brushes lightly against your hand as you both stand side by side, the sound of the elevator music almost drowned out by the rush of adrenaline you both share. Tonight is big—for him, for both of you—but in this moment, it’s just the two of you, sharing a quiet space before the chaos begins.

The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby floor, and you step out into the bright, bustling space. The lobby is abuzz with activity—people in tuxedos and gowns chatting, last-minute preparations happening all around. You spot the entrance to the event area, where a stream of reporters and photographers are lined up, their cameras ready to catch the next big arrival.

Glen’s parents, Cyndy and Glen Sr., are already waiting by the elevators, talking to a few other familiar faces. The moment they see you both, Cyndy’s warm, motherly smile lights up her face.

"There they are!" she says, walking over to give Glen a hug. "Glen, you look so handsome!"

Glen returns her embrace with a chuckle, his broad shoulders relaxing in her hug. "Thanks, Mom. You look amazing, too."

Cyndy pulls back, giving you a quick once-over with approving eyes. "And you, sweetheart, look just breathtaking."

"Thank you," you say, smiling softly, feeling a wave of warmth at her words.

Glen Sr. gives you a small nod of approval before turning his attention to the growing crowd. “Ready to go, son?” he asks, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the bright excitement in the air.

"Yeah, let’s do this," Glen replies, squeezing your hand once more before stepping forward.

As you step toward the doors, the weight of the night becomes palpable, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Glen’s hand slips from yours, but not before he gives it one last, reassuring squeeze. His gaze meets yours for a moment, his eyes soft with affection despite the flurry of activity around you.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a wave of warmth through your body. 

"Stay close to my parents," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, a mixture of affection and quiet command. "I’ll talk to you after the red carpet, okay?"

You nod, the reassurance in his words settling your nerves just slightly. His presence, even in these small moments, brings you an unexpected sense of calm. You watch as he straightens up, giving you a final, comforting smile before turning to head towards the first section of the red carpet. The flashing lights of the cameras immediately focus on him, the buzz of voices rising as they call out his name.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that tonight isn’t about the spotlight on you—it’s about being there for him, supporting him as he steps into this moment.

Before you can fully process the next rush of energy, you feel a light nudge at your elbow. Glen’s dad, with his ever-so-gracious demeanor, offers you his arm. 

"Shall we?" he asks with a warm smile, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks toward his son, now posing for the cameras ahead.

You slip your arm through his, the two of you walking in step with Glen’s mother beside you. The hum of the red carpet fills the air, the cameras flashing in bursts like strobe lights as people call out names, photographers jockeying for the best shot. It feels surreal, watching Glen move through the chaos so effortlessly, a magnet for attention, while you remain just behind him, tucked safely in the background.

The red carpet is a world of its own—a whirlwind of lights, flashing cameras, and excited chatter. You stand a few feet behind Glen, walking with his parents as you watch him effortlessly navigate the chaos. From the moment he steps onto the carpet, he’s in his element, greeting reporters, posing for the cameras, and smiling with a confidence that seems almost innate.

He moves with such ease, each step deliberate, his velvet jacket catching the light with every turn. The photographers call out his name, the clicks of the cameras almost deafening, but Glen is unfazed. He’s a natural—tilting his head slightly, flashing that signature smile that’s made him a favorite among fans and critics alike. Each pose is perfectly executed, like he’s done this a thousand times, and yet you know it’s all real, all part of the moment.

Glen interacts with the reporters as though they’re old friends. He laughs at their jokes, asks how their evening is going, and never misses a beat. It’s impossible not to feel proud as you watch him—this man you love, who has worked so hard to get to this point in his career, now being recognized for his talents. The genuine warmth in his smile, the way he listens to each person, makes them feel like they’re the only one in the room.

You catch snippets of conversations, little flashes of Glen’s humor and grace as he talks to the interviewers. “It’s an honor just to be here with such incredible talent,” he says to one, giving a humble but genuine answer that makes the reporter smile brightly. The cameras click furiously as he poses once more, a wink in your direction as if he’s sharing a private joke with you amidst all the attention.

He walks past you briefly, pausing to stop and chat with one of the other nominees. The other actor greets him warmly, their handshake firm and friendly. Glen’s laughter rings out, the two of them talking animatedly. It’s clear they’re both enjoying the interaction, and you feel a swell of pride as you watch him effortlessly charm everyone around him.

As Glen continues walking down the carpet, interacting with other actors and actresses, you steal quick glances at him, noticing the way his eyes flicker toward you, checking in even amidst the chaos. Every so often, he pauses—just for a moment—and looks back to where you’re standing with his parents, catching your gaze in a fleeting moment of connection.

It happens once when he’s posing for a photographer. He turns just enough to meet your eyes, his smile softening, just for you. Then, as he moves toward the next group of reporters, he sends a quick wink your way—casual but filled with meaning.

As he’s walking towards the interview section, he reaches out briefly, brushing his hand against yours. It’s so subtle, so quick, but the warmth of it lingers, making your heart skip a beat. You smile to yourself, feeling like you’re the only one in the crowd who understands the quiet moments between the flashes.

Every now and then, he checks in with his parents, his dad offering a gentle nod or a pat on the back, and his mom giving him a quick hug, congratulating him on the moment. As he walks past you again, he places his hand lightly on your lower back, the touch firm but gentle, like a silent reassurance. He leans in, his voice low but carrying just enough for you to hear, “I’m almost done, I promise.” You smile softly, nodding, grateful for the little check-ins.

With each moment, you feel more in awe of him—his ability to navigate this world with such grace, his kindness, and his generosity toward everyone he meets. You’ve always known how hard he’s worked for this, but seeing him shine like this, being recognized for his talent, makes your heart swell with pride. The man standing before you, talking to the crowd, was once just a guy with a dream—and now, he’s living it.

As Glen steps off the red carpet, the flurry of flashing cameras and excited shouts start to fade away. The soft hum of conversation inside the venue fills the air, and for a brief moment, you feel like the world slows down. You catch his eye just as he spots you standing at the edge of the carpet, watching him. His smile lights up his face—genuine and warm—and your heart flutters just a little bit at the sight of it.

Without a second thought, Glen strides over to you, his presence commanding yet soft, as though the spotlight of the red carpet hasn’t followed him. He leans in, pressing a quick, simple kiss to your lips—one that might be so brief to anyone watching that they’d miss it, but to you, it feels like a promise. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers just enough to remind you that you’re still in his thoughts, even in the whirlwind of the evening.

Pulling back, Glen smiles at you, his eyes soft but intense. Without missing a beat, he reaches down and takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of everything. His parents, ever gracious, follow behind as Glen begins to lead you into the venue.

As you step inside, the atmosphere changes. The venue is filled with a sea of familiar, and very recognizable, faces. A sea of stars, each more dazzling than the last. You glance around, and your nerves spike just a little—this is the world Glen belongs to, and even though you’re used to being by his side, it feels a little more overwhelming now. The glitzy chandeliers above, the hum of voices, the clicking of glasses... all of it is a far cry from the quieter, more intimate moments you’ve shared together.

Instinctively, you bring your free hand up and curl it around Glen’s arm, drawing just a little closer to him. It’s subtle, a small gesture, but it makes you feel grounded in a room full of people you don’t quite know. Glen notices immediately, his eyes flicking down to you as if checking in to see how you're holding up.

“You alright?” he murmurs under his breath, his voice low but caring.

You give him a small smile, nodding, but he can tell there’s a flicker of nervousness in your eyes. Glen squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, reassuring rhythm. 

“We’ve got this,” he says with a quiet confidence that you know is meant as much for you as it is for himself.

His smile is enough to settle your nerves, if only for a moment. You take a deep breath, and as the two of you move further into the room, the sight of the grand tables, the gleaming crystal glasses, and the fancy place settings begin to feel more familiar. Glen leads you with an easy grace, guiding you toward your assigned table with a worker who’s waiting to escort you.

The worker gestures toward your seats, and Glen holds out his hand as you approach. With a flourish, he pulls your chair out for you, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes you feel like the most important person in the room. You smile at him, grateful for his quiet care in a setting that could easily feel overwhelming.

As you sit down, Glen takes the seat beside you, his presence as steady and comforting as it has always been. He straightens his jacket and settles into his seat, and for the first time in hours, the two of you share a quiet moment, just the two of you. The world outside might be full of glamour, fame, and recognition, but here, in this little bubble you’ve found together, it’s just Glen—being the perfect gentleman, just as he always is.

The award show begins with a grand flourish. The host steps onto the stage, the lights dimming just slightly as the audience settles into their seats. You glance around, taking in the bustling room—famous actors, actresses, and directors sitting nearby, the whispers of excitement as the event officially kicks off.

Glen’s hand rests lightly on the back of your chair. The touch is small, but it anchors you in the midst of all the grandeur surrounding you. Without thinking, you lean into him just slightly, your head tipping toward his. The warmth of his body is a comfort, grounding you as the opening monologue begins.

The host captures the crowd’s attention with a series of jokes, and the sound of laughter ripples across the room. Glen smiles at the moment, but his attention is mostly on you. Every now and then, his fingers gently tap the back of your chair as if offering his quiet reassurance. You can feel his eyes on you, checking in with a glance when he thinks you’re not looking, making sure you’re comfortable in your seat.

The first few awards pass by quickly, the names of the nominees and winners announced with the usual anticipation, but you can feel the clock ticking in your mind, each passing moment heightening the tension in your chest. Glen is nominated for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture—Musical or Comedy, and the weight of the moment is starting to sink in.

You can feel your nerves rising with each passing category. With each announcement, the tightness in your chest grows as you anxiously glance down at your program, running your fingers over the pages in a distracted rhythm. Every now and then, Glen’s hand brushes against yours, either adjusting his position or offering an unspoken gesture of comfort. When his fingers meet yours, it’s as if the connection between you both is the only thing that grounds you amidst the flashing lights and the build-up.

The host’s voice rings out again, announcing the next presenters. You force yourself to take a slow breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves that’s started to settle deep in your stomach. You can’t help but glance up at Glen, who, despite the chaos and the nerves building up inside him, is still looking at you with that same steady calmness. His eyes meet yours, soft but intense, and he gives you a small, quiet smile.

“You good?” he asks under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the audience.

You nod, though you’re not sure if you believe it yourself. “Yeah, just a little anxious,” you admit quietly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your program.

Glen gives you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder and leans in closer. “You’re doing great,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “Remember I’m right here.”

His voice is a steady comfort, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into it, but the closer you get to the moment of the award announcement, the harder it is to ignore the nerves prickling in your chest. You try not to let it show, but it’s impossible to ignore the fact that your whole body seems to tense with every name called.

The tension is almost unbearable as the next award category is announced. You can feel your heart beating faster as the presenter walks to the podium, the lights dimming slightly on the stage as the camera pans over the audience. You glance at Glen, your hand still lightly resting on his knee, both of you anxiously waiting for the moment to unfold.

The announcer opens the envelope, a brief pause lingering in the air, and then the name is spoken.

“Sebastian Stan.”

The name hit you like a soft punch to the gut. You’d been hoping, praying that Glen’s name would be called. But it’s not.

You exhale, the breath you’d been holding escaping in a slow, almost deflated sigh as the applause fills the room. Everyone around you begins clapping, but you feel a heavy weight settle in the pit of your stomach. You try to join in, your hands moving in sync with the crowd, but it feels automatic, hollow.

Glen’s gaze shifts downward as he claps politely, a professional smile plastered on his face. The joy that had been there moments ago, when he’d been watching others celebrate, is now gone. You notice the subtle slump of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens just slightly. It’s so faint, but you see it—his disappointment, quiet and swift.

Without hesitation, you place a gentle hand on his knee, your fingers curling softly around the fabric of his suit. It’s a quiet gesture, one that says everything without words.

Leaning in closer, you whisper just for him. “I’m still so proud of you,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “This doesn’t change anything. You’ve had an incredible year.”

His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and though his smile is still warm, there’s a shadow of something behind it. He nods, as if trying to convince himself. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, voice carrying the faintest hint of regret. “It’s all right.”

The cameras still hover near your table, and Glen turns slightly, giving his trademark charm for the audience, though you can see the subtle strain in the movement. It’s a mask, and you know it.

But then, just as quickly as the moment of disappointment had settled in, he shrugs it off, the professional smile back in place. He straightens his shoulders and waves at the camera as if nothing’s wrong.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, your thumb brushing gently against the back of his hand, offering him one more piece of quiet support. “You’ve worked so hard. This is just the beginning.”

Glen looks at you, his eyes softening, and he offers a genuine, albeit faint, smile. “I know. It’s just... I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and in that instant, you both share a fleeting connection—one of understanding, of being on the same page. You see past the façade, knowing the true weight of his disappointment.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of applause, speeches, and glimmering smiles, but the air feels different now. Glen seems to slip back into his polished, charming self, laughing with others and posing for photos as if nothing had happened. But you know him too well. Every now and then, when the laughter dies down or when the lights shift in a way that makes everything feel softer, you catch glimpses of that quiet vulnerability he’s tried to hide.

You continue to offer him your presence, your unwavering support. Your hand resting on the top of his hand which rests on his thigh, fingers gently tracing the skin on the back of his hand during the dull moments between awards. You don’t need to say anything—he knows you’re there. And though he’s the one in the spotlight, it’s in these moments when you share the unspoken strength that makes you feel so connected.

The show drags on, the anticipation building as the categories shift, and eventually, the evening winds down to its final moments. You barely notice the presenter’s voice over the soft murmur of your own thoughts, a quiet hum of gratitude settling in your chest. Glen may not have won tonight, but you know—this isn’t the end for him. Not even close.

When the final award is presented, everyone stands in applause, their excitement contagious, but you find yourself leaning back into the comfort of the moment. Glen’s hand, warm and steady on your back, guides you as you both move toward the exit, his parents trailing behind you.

You glance over at him—his face now a perfect mask of grace and poise. His earlier disappointment seems to have faded into the evening's glow. And though you know it might still sting for him later, for now, you’re here. Together. And that’s all that matters.

After the award show ends, Glen gives you a small, reassuring smile as you both make your way toward his parents, who are chatting with a few other guests near the exit. You and Glen share a brief exchange of looks—silent understanding passing between you before you approach them.

“Well, I think it’s time to say goodnight,” Glen says, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of exhaustion as he hugs his mom first, then his dad.

You follow his lead, offering a warm hug to Cyndy and Glen Sr., both of whom have been incredibly supportive all night. You exchange a few words, with his mom offering you a knowing smile and his dad patting Glen on the back, offering him a quiet “You did good, son. We're proud of you.”

Once the goodbyes are said, Glen takes your hand, leading you away from his parents to a quieter corner.

“Let’s get this night wrapped up,” he says with a grin, pulling you gently toward the after-party.

The after-party is lively but not too overbearing. The usual crowd of actors, producers, and influencers circulate the room, laughing and enjoying the last moments of the night. Glen and you share a few casual conversations with some of his industry friends, but the two of you stay close, mostly content in each other's presence.

You don’t stay long. Glen’s energy is starting to dip, and you can see the weight of the night catching up to him. When he whispers that he’s ready to leave, you’re more than ready to head back to the hotel as well.

As the elevator doors close behind you, the sounds of the bustling venue fade, replaced by the soft hum of the ride up. You catch Glen glancing at you from the corner of your eye, a soft smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“You were great tonight,” you say quietly, your voice a soft reassurance.

He shrugs, but the smile never fades. “It’s just part of the job.”

As you and Glen exit the elevator, the hallway feels quieter, almost like a contrast to the energy of the evening. The weight of the night—of the red carpet, the award show, the after-party—seems to melt away as you make your way down the hall toward your hotel room.

Glen’s hand is warm around yours, but you can feel the slight tension in his shoulders, the exhaustion settling in now that the cameras are no longer flashing and the attention is no longer on him. His smile, though still present, is more tired than it had been earlier. You can tell he’s ready to unwind, just the two of you.

Reaching the door, Glen digs into his pocket for the room key, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway. As the door swings open, the familiar scent of the room hits you—slightly musty, but comforting, like the feeling of stepping back into a private space after a long, public day.

He holds the door open for you, letting you walk in first, before following closely behind. The room is dimly lit, the night sky outside casting a soft glow through the windows. You drop your clutch on the bed, watching as Glen kicks off his shoes with a tired sigh.

You turn to face him, standing there for a moment, both of you silently taking in the quiet that fills the room. Glen moves toward you, his hands finding yours, pulling you gently toward him.

“I’m glad you were here tonight,” he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You smile up at him, the flicker of pride you feel for him still alive in your chest. “I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

Glen’s lips quirk into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, he steps closer, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, as if silently thanking you for being his anchor. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply like he’s finally allowing himself to relax fully. The warmth of his breath against your temple sends a shiver through you.

Then, he lifts his head and looks at you, his hazel eyes holding something deeper. He reaches up, tilting your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you meet his gaze fully.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid you’ll say no.

Your chest tightens at his vulnerability, and you smile softly, shaking your head.

“Of course,” you whisper. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping in your own room anyway.

His shoulders relax slightly at your answer, and his lips curve into a grateful smile. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering at your temple.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice still low, intimate. “Let’s take a shower.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the bathroom. The sound of the water turning on fills the space as Glen leans over to adjust the temperature. Steam begins to curl in the air, softening the edges of the brightly lit room.

Turning back to you, Glen steps closer, his hands finding your waist. His velvet jacket is the first to go. You reach up, your fingers brushing against his shoulders as you slide it off. It drops to the floor in a heap, revealing his silk shirt underneath. Slowly, your hands move to the buttons, undoing each one with care.

As you work, Glen leans down, pressing soft kisses along your lips, jawline and down your neck. The gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin sends a shiver through you, but the moment isn’t rushed. It’s deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of closeness he missed earlier.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to touch you all night,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You pause for a moment, your hands resting on his chest, and look up at him with a small smile. “I think I might have an idea,” you tease softly, earning a quiet laugh from him.

Once you’ve finished unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs it off in one smooth motion, letting it pool on the cool tiled floor beside his jacket. Then, his hands find your hips, and he gently spins you around. His fingers trace the line of the zipper on your dress, slowly sliding it down. The fabric loosens, slipping over your hips and down your body until it gathers at your feet.

Glen wraps his arms around your bare midsection, pulling you back against his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his lips soft and warm against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, before moving to press another kiss to your neck. “I love you.”

Your breath catches at his words, and you rest your hands over his where they’re wrapped around you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

After a moment, he releases you, stepping back so you can both finish undressing. Once you’re both bare, Glen takes your hand in his, his fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you into the shower. The warm water cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the long evening.

Inside the glass enclosure, it’s just the two of you, cocooned in the sound of the rushing water and the heat that envelopes you both. Glen reaches for the shampoo, lathering it in his hands before gently running them through the strands of your hair. His touch is slow and deliberate.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur as he works the product into your scalp further.

He pauses, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looks at you. “Not even close,” he replies softly.

You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes hold yours for a long moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show you how much you mean to me.”

Your throat tightens at his words, and you reach up, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face. “You already do,” you whisper.

For the rest of the shower, there’s no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, intimate exchange of touch and unspoken promises. By the time you step out and wrap yourselves in the plush hotel robes, the connection between you somehow feels even stronger, solidified by the quiet moments you’ve shared.

Steam still lingers in the air as the two of you step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and relaxed. You pad over to your suitcase, rifling through it for something to wear, but instead of choosing one of your own shirts, you make your way to Glen’s bag. Pulling out one of his well-worn t-shirts, you slip it over your head, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. You pair it with your favorite underwear and turn to see Glen already pulling on a pair of black boxers, his hair still damp and curling slightly at the edges.

He glances at you and his lips curve into a small, tired smile. “Looks better on you,” he murmurs, nodding toward his shirt. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the warmth that blooms in your chest. 

The two of you crawl onto the plush mattress, settling in side by side. The headboard provides a comfortable backrest as Glen grabs the remote and flicks on the TV, aimlessly scrolling through channels. The faint glow of the screen fills the otherwise dimly lit room, but neither of you are paying much attention to what’s on.

A comfortable silence settles between you, the kind that only comes with familiarity. Without a word, Glen shifts, leaning over to lay his head on your lap. His strong arms wrap loosely around your waist, anchoring himself to you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. He exhales deeply, his breath warm against your leg, and you feel the tension in his body begin to melt away.

Instinctively, your fingers find their way to his hair, gently combing through the damp strands. He sighs at the touch, the sound soft and vulnerable, and it makes your chest tighten. You know Glen is always composed in public, but here, in the quiet of the hotel room, he lets his guard down.

For a while, he doesn’t say anything, just holds onto you like he needs the connection to keep himself steady. You can feel the weight of the evening still lingering in the air between you, though. It’s not just physical exhaustion; it’s the emotional toll of the night—the highs and lows, the constant smiling, the conversations that required too much energy.

Finally, Glen breaks the silence, his voice low and raw. “It was a lot, you know?” he murmurs, his face still pressed against your lap. “The whole day… the prep, the red carpet, the cameras… smiling so much my face hurt. And then sitting there, waiting for them to call my name.”

You hum softly in acknowledgment, your fingers never faltering in their soothing motions through his hair. “It’s okay to feel disappointed, you know. You worked so hard. Anyone would feel the same.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

“It’s not even about winning,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think… I think it’s just everything leading up to it. The expectations, the pressure. And then when they didn’t call my name, it was like all of that hit me at once.”

You glance down at him, his face partially hidden in the soft fabric of your borrowed t-shirt.

“It’s okay to feel this way, Glen,” you say softly, your voice full of reassurance. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

He shifts slightly, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he buries his face back against you.

“I just hate feeling like I let everyone down. My parents, the team that worked on this movie with me…” His voice trails off, and you can feel the vulnerability in his words.

“You didn’t let anyone down,” you say firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “Your parents are proud of you. I’m proud of you. I know Richard and Adria and the rest of the team that worked on this are proud of you too. Being nominated is a huge accomplishment, and everyone knows how much work you put into this.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him relax a little more against you. Your fingers continue their rhythmic motion through his hair, and the tension in his body seems to dissolve with every gentle stroke. The room is quiet except for the soft murmur of the TV in the background and the even sound of his breathing.

“You make everything better,” he finally whispers, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You smile softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Glen doesn’t say anything else, but his arms tighten around you, holding you close like you’re his anchor in the storm. And in that moment, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—right here, grounding him when he needs it most.

[rmview]

they bond with your cat, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — just some sweet moments of the enhypen boys bonding with your pet cat!

contents — fluff, no warnings.

hee 🐾 seung

heeseung wasn’t much of a cat person — at least not before meeting your fluffy little companion. from the moment your cat first approached him, weaving between his legs with a curious gaze, he was smitten. at first, he tried to play it cool, but his heart melted when the cat bumped its head against his hand.

the first time he babysat your cat while you ran errands, you came back to find him sprawled on the floor, holding a feather toy above his head while your cat pounced and batted at it. heeseung’s laughter filled the room as he teased, “you’ve got a future athlete here! i’m raising a pro.”

despite his playful side, heeseung also shared quieter moments with your cat. on particularly lazy afternoons, he’d sit on your couch with a blanket draped over his legs, your cat curled up on his lap. he’d absentmindedly scratch behind its ears while humming a tune.

one day, you caught him whispering secrets to your cat as if it were his confidant. “you think they’ll like the surprise i planned?” he asked softly, rubbing its chin. when you teased him about it, his ears turned bright red.

your cat adored heeseung, and he jokingly claimed it was because he gave the best head scratches. but deep down, you knew it was because your cat could sense his genuine warmth.

jay 🐾

jay approached your cat with cautious respect at first. “hey there, buddy,” he murmured, holding out his hand for the feline to sniff. when your cat rubbed its face against his fingers, jay’s eyes lit up, and he gently stroked its fur. “oh, we’re friends now, huh?”

it didn’t take long for jay to become your cat’s favorite. he had an innate ability to read its moods, knowing when it wanted to play and when it wanted to laze around. “they’re just like me,” he joked. “cool, calm, and collected — most of the time.”

jay’s favorite moments were when your cat would pad over to him unprompted and settle on his lap. he’d freeze for a moment, overwhelmed by the trust, before relaxing into the moment. “see? i’ve got the magic touch,” he’d brag, scratching behind its ears as it purred contentedly.

when your cat was in a playful mood, jay would grab a laser pointer and have it darting around the room, laughing at its frantic attempts to catch the elusive red dot. “i think i’m having more fun than they are,” he’d admit sheepishly.

one day, you walked in to find jay sitting cross-legged on the floor, painstakingly untangling a yarn ball your cat had unraveled. “your little troublemaker strikes again,” he said, shaking his head fondly. but the soft smile on his face told you he didn’t mind one bit.

jake 🐾

jake was immediately captivated by your cat. “oh my gosh, they’re so cute!” he exclaimed the first time he met them, crouching down to their level. your cat seemed to pick up on his excitement, tentatively approaching and sniffing his outstretched hand. when it finally allowed him to pet it, jake grinned like he’d just won the lottery.

jake quickly became the ultimate cat dad. he’d bring treats whenever he visited, earning himself your cat’s undivided attention. “you’re bribing them!” you accused, but jake just laughed. “hey, i’m building a bond,” he replied, offering your cat another treat as it purred loudly.

your cat loved jake’s energetic personality. he’d dangle a toy mouse on a string, laughing as it leaped and twirled to catch it. “look at them go! we should enter them into competitions,” he joked, cheering every time your cat made a dramatic pounce.

but it wasn’t all play. jake had a soft side, and your cat seemed to sense it. they often curled up next to him as he scrolled through his phone or read a book, their head resting on his thigh. jake would gently pet them, a serene smile on his face.

once, you overheard jake talking to your cat. “you’re lucky,” he said softly, scratching its chin. “you get to stay here with them all the time. take care of them for me, okay?”

your heart melted at his words, and you realized just how much jake cared — not just for your cat, but for you too.

sung 🐾 hoon

sunghoon wasn’t sure how to act around your cat at first. he wasn’t used to animals, and he approached with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “hey, don’t scratch me, okay?” he murmured as he held out his hand. when your cat nudged his fingers and purred, sunghoon’s eyes widened in surprise. “oh, i think they like me!”

he quickly grew more comfortable, and your cat seemed to enjoy teasing him. it would paw at his hand, then dart away, only to return moments later with a playful glint in its eyes. “you’re such a little troublemaker,” he’d say, but there was always a smile on his face.

sunghoon also had a soft spot for cuddles. if your cat decided to curl up beside him, he’d sit perfectly still, not wanting to disturb them. “i guess i’m stuck here now,” he’d joke, glancing up at you with an amused smile. but you could tell he secretly loved the quiet bonding time.

one of your favorite moments was catching sunghoon trying to teach your cat tricks. “sit,” he’d command, holding a treat above their head. when the cat just stared at him, he laughed. “okay, maybe you’re too smart for that.”

sunghoon’s gentle and patient demeanor won your cat over completely. by the end of the day, they were inseparable, and he’d proudly announce, “see? they love me more than you now.”

su 🐾 noo

sunoo and your cat were a match made in heaven. from the moment they met, it was like they’d known each other forever. “aren’t you the cutest thing ever?” he cooed, crouching down to shower your cat with pets and kisses. the cat responded by rubbing against him and purring loudly, cementing their instant bond.

he loved taking selfies with your cat, holding them up and tilting his head to find the perfect angle. “look how adorable we are together!” he’d gush, showing you his camera roll filled with pictures. you couldn’t deny they made a ridiculously cute pair.

sunoo had a knack for understanding your cat’s moods. he’d instinctively know when they wanted to play, pulling out toys and making them chase feathers or strings. “you’re such a little star,” he’d say as your cat pranced around, clearly enjoying the attention.

but sunoo’s favorite moments were the cuddly ones. he’d sit on the couch with your cat nestled in his lap, gently stroking their fur while humming softly. sometimes, he’d talk to them like they were his best friend. “you’ve got such a good life here,” he’d say with a smile. “you’re so lucky to have the best owner ever.”

your cat adored sunoo, and you often found them waiting by the door when they heard his voice. “they know i’m their favorite,” he’d tease, winking at you.

jung 🐾 won

jungwon’s calm and caring nature made him a natural with your cat. the first time they met, he patiently let them sniff his hand before gently petting them. “you’re such a soft little thing,” he murmured, his voice soothing. your cat seemed to sense his warmth, immediately warming up to him.

jungwon loved spending time with your cat, whether it was playing with a toy or just sitting quietly while they explored his lap. “they’re so curious,” he’d remark, watching as the cat pawed at the strings on his hoodie. “it’s like they’re trying to figure me out.”

one day, you caught him napping on the couch with your cat curled up on his chest. the sight melted your heart, especially when he stirred and mumbled, “we’re having a bonding moment—don’t interrupt.”

he also took his role as your cat’s unofficial caretaker seriously. he’d remind you about feeding schedules and even researched the best treats to buy. “we have to take good care of them,” he’d say with a determined look.

jungwon’s soft spot for your cat was undeniable, and he often joked, “if you ever need a sitter, i’m available. they’re basically my best friend now.”

ni 🐾 ki

ni-ki was a little hesitant around your cat at first, unsure of how to interact with them. “do they like to be petted?” he asked, glancing at you nervously. when your cat approached him and started rubbing against his legs, he broke into a relieved grin. “oh, okay, i guess we’re friends now.”

his playful nature quickly took over, and he loved coming up with creative games to entertain your cat. whether it was building a maze out of cardboard boxes or making a toy dance around like a puppet, ni-ki’s energy matched your cat’s perfectly. “they’re just like me,” he said with a laugh. “always full of energy.”

despite his playful side, ni-ki also had a gentle streak. he’d sit cross-legged on the floor, letting your cat climb into his lap and curl up. “they’re so small,” he’d whisper, stroking their fur softly. “how can something this cute even exist?”

one day, you found him lying on the floor with your cat perched on his chest. “we’re bonding,” he explained with a grin. “this is how you build trust.”

ni-ki’s enthusiasm and genuine love for your cat were infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile every time you saw them together. “i think they like me better than you,” he teased, sticking out his tongue. “but don’t worry, i’ll share.”

notes: this reaction was so cute because i love cats (i have an orange one named pineapple hihihi)

[dixons-sunshine]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF by @daryl-dixon-daydreams)

Summary: Being woken up with kisses by you might have been Daryl’s favourite thing ever. Getting a gift that particular morning was unexpected, but not unappreciated. It might have been the best birthday he has ever had.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 817.

A/N: Wrote a little something in honour of Norman’s birthday! Happy birthday to one of the best people on this planet!

Daryl slowly opened his eyes at the feeling of soft prodding against his skin. He blinked to rid himself of the loopy, sleepy feeling, his gaze landing on the ceiling above. However, he looked down when the soft prodding persisted, and when he did, a small smile spread across his face.

You easily returned the gesture. You pressed your lips against his chest, being extra gentle whenever you were met with a scar. You slowly trailed up his collarbone, his neck, his cheek, before finally letting your lips meet his for a tender kiss.

Daryl pulled away after a few seconds, his signature half smile on his face. “Well, g’mornin’.”

You grinned and brought a hand up to cup his cheek, lightly scratching his stubble. “Good morning, handsome,” you greeted him, your eyes sparkling with excitement—something that made the archer confused.

Your partner raised his eyebrows at you, instantly reading you like the back of his hand. “Alright, spill. What’s up?”

You gave him a faux innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, completely unconvinced. “Sure. S’jus’ my imagination, huh? You wake me up with kisses, lookin’ all excited and s’for no reason at all?”

“Can’t I just be happy to be with you?”

“Sure you can, but s’more than that. I can tell.”

You finally gave up on your attempt at keeping a straight face. You laughed and removed yourself from his embrace, reaching over to grab something from your nightstand. It took a couple of tries to get the drawer open, but you finally succeeded after the third try.

Daryl watched you move in silence, his eyebrows furrowing together when you grabbed a little box that was wrapped in pink, glittery wrapping paper and placed it in his hands. “What’s this?” he questioned, fiddling with the object but making no move to open it just yet.

“If I wanted to tell you, I would have done so instead of making sure to keep it a secret,” you retorted, chuckling when he sent you a look that said ‘really?’ “Just open it, okay?”

The archer hesitated for a few seconds longer, before sighing and slowly beginning to peel the paper away. Underneath, it revealed a tiny wooden box. “A box?” he asked, looking back up at you.

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Look inside the box.”

Daryl chuckled. He opened it up, and his heart started galloping in his chest. He gingerly took the object from the box, his ocean-coloured eyes widening in awe. “I—what? Why?”

You smiled at him reaction. “Because I wanted to. I had to pull some strings with people to let me take their places on runs, but I got something for you. I hope you like it.”

In his palm, there laid a chain necklace with a little silver arrow hanging from it. It may have been something simple in the eyes of others, but to Daryl, it was absolutely perfect. It was beautiful, and he was going to wear it with pride because his woman got it for him.

“Thanks. S’amazin’,” he whispered, letting the chain hang from his fingers. “But seriously. Why? What’s the occasion?”

“You really don’t know what today is?” When Daryl shook his head, you leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to the tip of his nose. “It’s your birthday, Dar. Happy birthday.”

Realization dawned on him. Ever since coming to Alexandria, where the people had somehow managed to keep track of the dates, you had insisted on keeping an out-of-date calendar in your shared room. You might not have known whether it was Friday or Tuesday, but you knew what the date was. And that day, it was his birthday.

“Shit. That’s today?” he asked, continuing when you nodded. “You didn’t have to do nothin’ for me. I would’a been happy with a simple “happy birthday”. You didn’t have to go through all’a that trouble to find me a gift.”

“It wasn’t any trouble.” You cut Daryl off before he could protest. “It wasn’t. It’s your birthday, and I wanted to get you something for it. That’s not any trouble for me. It’s a way for me to show you how much I love you, okay?”

Daryl’s heart leaped in his chest. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wished he could say to express his gratitude. However, words fell short in that moment. All he could manage was a simple “thanks.”

You smiled softly and nodded. “Of course.” Despite the simplicity of that answer to your heartfelt confession, you knew how grateful he was. You could see it in the way his eyes lit up, in the way his hand found your’s and squeezed it three times, and in the way he looked at you. You didn’t need any words to know how much he loved you.

Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words.

[ariestrxsh]

shy!sub!chris x babysitter!reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ content warning: smut, mommy kink, age gap (Chris is 22 & reader is 28), innocence corruption, virginity loss, size kink, oral (m & f!receiving)

˚₊ · »-♡→ summary: chris runs into his old childhood babysitter, and their innocent reunion takes a turn when the two can't deny the sexual tension between them.

If the age gap or the fact that the reader used to babysit Chris bothers you, then don't read this fic ! The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don't, dont.

Part 1 | Part 2 (final part)

Baby Sitter (part two)

"I have your shirt, Chris. See? Can't even tell it had coffee on it," you remarked, handing over his white tee as you stood on his doorstep.

"Wow, that's amazing," Chris gasped, holding it up and searching for the remnants of the mocha he'd spilled down the front of it, but there was no evidence of it having happened at all. "Thanks!" Chris replied, tossing the shirt over his shoulder.

"Dishsoap and white vinegar," you casually mentioned. "Good to know," Chris responded, leaning up against the door frame. "Whatcha got there?" He motioned towards the brown, paper bag you had clutched in your arm.

"I got you a couple of apartment warming gifts!" You announced, pulling out a fancy bottle of avocado oil from it. He gave you an inquisitive look as you passed it off. "You cook with it," you giggled, sensing his confusion.

"Right," Chris replied, pointing the bottle at you as if you said the words that were sitting at the tip of his tongue. "Thank you!" He added. "That's not all," you relayed, grabbing another fancy bottle from your shopping bag.

"Oh, I know what to do with this one," he chuckled, taking the rosé from you. "Yeah, I got you a big bottle. So you could share it with someone if you wanted," you suggested, nibbling on your bottom lip and flickering your gaze between his eyes and his mouth. He shrugged his shoulder.

"I-I don't know who I would share it with," he admitted, holding a bottle in each hand as he read the label on the avocado oil. You jokingly looked around as if you were about to volunteer a stranger from off the street, and then finally said, "I'm free. Maybe we could split it over dinner."

"Oh. Cool. Yeah. I don't have anything to eat here, though," he continued staring at the label, still completely oblivious to the fact that you were hoping he'd invite you into his apartment.

"Don't worry, Chris. I remember my first apartment. You're probably mostly living off of ramen and takeout. I figured you might like a home-cooked meal," you replied, gesturing towards your paper bag.

"Oh, that's nice of you," he said, staring at you like a deer in the headlights. "So. Can I come in, baby?" You finally asked, cocking your head to the side and batting your lashes in his direction.

"Yes. Please. Of course," he eagerly nodded, finally stepping to the side to let you in. He silently kicked himself as he slowly realized that's what you'd been alluding to with your body language the whole time you'd been standing on his door step.

You didn't mind, though. You found his social awkwardness endearing.

You entered his apartment, placing the bag on his marble countertop. "Hey, you cleaned. It looks really nice in here," you observed, smiling in his direction as you started to take off your fur coat.

"Thanks for noticing," Chris nervously replied, his eyes dropping to the low neck line of your powder blue top and the short hem of your tight, black skirt.

"Is spaghetti still your favorite, baby?" You asked him, slinging your coat over the back of a chair and pulling out the contents of the brown paper bag.

"It is. I haven't had homemade spaghetti in such a long time," Chris responded, unable to conceal his excitement, a smile spreading across his lips.

You rummaged through his cabinets, retrieving a pot, filling it with water, and bringing it to a boil on the stove. "Would you grab us some glasses for the wine?" You requested from the blue-eyed boy.

"Will red solo cups work?" Chris asked, opening his cabinet. You laughed. "Look in the bag. I came prepared," you responded, uncorking the wine. He reached into the bag, revealing two neatly wrapped glasses.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" He asked, placing them delicately on the counter side-by-side. "The only thing I forgot is a condom. But I don't mind if you don't mind," you leaned in, softly purring into his ear. Chris nearly fell to his knees at your words.

"I-I don't mind," he stammered, wiping his sweaty hands off on the front of his sweatpants. You smirked, pouring a big glass for each of you.

"You ever had rosé before?" You inquired, corking the bottle back up. "No, I've never had wine before," he admitted, swirling the pink liquid around in the clear glass. You held your glass up, and he followed your lead.

"To all the firsts you're going to experience tonight," you seductively said as your glass softly clinked against his. He swallowed hard, his palms beginning to sweat again. You took a swig of your wine while you held your gaze on Chris, waiting for his reaction.

He hesitantly took a drink, but he was pleasantly surprised when he did. "It's sweet," he commented, nodding his head in approval.

"You like it?" You asked. "I do, actually," he told you before taking another sip. "You shaved," you observed, running the back of your hand over his soft face.

"I did. You noticed," he quietly replied, reaching up and touching his flushed cheek as a smile spread across his lips. He loved how attentive you were, pointing out all the things that most people missed.

"You know, I've missed you these past few days. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," you admitted, taking his glass and setting it down on the counter next to yours. You placed your hand on his chest and leaned in to kiss his neck.

He bit back a moan, gently rolling his hips forward and pressing his erection against your hip. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either," he returned the sentiment, his shakey hand wandering to the small of your back.

You bit down and gently sucked on his soft flesh right above his collarbone as he melted into you. "You know, I brought dessert, too," you told him, your voice taking on a suggestive tone.

"What did you bring?" He eagerly asked, trying to glimpse into your bag as you kissed his neck. "It's not in there, silly boy," you teased him, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. "Where is it?" He smirked at you.

"It's right.." you started to say, gently grabbing his wrist. "Here," you cooed, putting his hand up your skirt. You rested his palm on your heat, his fingers grazing your clit as his breath caught in his throat.

"You're not wearing any panties," he observed in a low whisper as he looked into your eyes, feeling the warmth radiating off of you. "Oops. I guess I forgot them," you smugly responded, your lips curling into a devious smile.

He started slowly running his middle finger up and down your slit. "It's getting so wet," he whimpered, his breath growing shallow.

"Are you excited to eat it?" You purred, running your manicured fingernails along his jawline. He nodded and dropped to his knees in front of you, leaning in to taste you, but you stopped him.

"No, baby. Not yet. You're gonna spoil your dinner," you taunted him, running your thumb softly along his jawline. "But I wanna eat my dessert now, mommy" he pleaded with you, staring up your skirt. You shook your head.

"Just one little taste.." he whispered, rubbing your clit in small circles. "Christopher Owen," you scolded him, lightly swatting him in the face and gently tightening your grip on his jaw. "Be a good boy and listen to mommy."

His desperate, blue eyes gazed back at yours, and he slowly nodded as he stood back up. He was completely under your spell.

He wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his trembling hand and picked up his glass of wine, lifting it to his lips and taking a sip to distract himself. He felt the buzz coming on, but he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or if it was all the blood rushing to his dick that was leaving him feeling lightheaded.

"You wanna know the trick to keeping your noodles from sticking together?" You asked him as you turned your attention back to the now boiling pot. He could barely focus on what you were saying over how hard you made him, so he just weakly nodded in response.

"Add salt to the water right before you put the pasta in," you replied, gathering all your seasonings. You added a few shakes of salt into the rumbling, hot water, and then you emptied the box of angel hair noodles into it.

"Then we wanna keep stirring it around every couple of minutes until it's soft enough to eat," you taught him, taking your wooden spoon and agitating the pot. All he could think about was how you weren't wearing any underwear beneath your short skirt.

"Here. Take this. You keep stirring while I prepare the meat," you directed him, your fingertips lightly brushing against his as you passed off the utensil to him. He felt a current of energy passing through his body as you grazed him, and you felt it, too.

He did as you said, stirring the pasta as you splashed a bit of avocado oil into the hot pan on the front left burner and started to brown the ground beef. You shook some salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and Italian seasoning into the meat and started cooking it.

His blue eyes fell to your figure as he wet his lips. He was almost certain you were going to try to sleep with him tonight, and while he was excited to finally lose his virginity, especially to you, he was nervous to lose it, especially to you.

His heart pounded in his ears, and thoughts raced through his mind, imagining how you'd taste, what you'd sound like, what you'd feel like.

"Did you hear me?" You asked, nudging him in the arm. "Huh?" He replied, realizing your lips had been moving the whole time, but he'd been too busy having dirty thoughts about you to register what you were saying.

You peered down at the tent in his sweats and smirked back up at him. "Whatcha thinking about?" You cooed as if you hadn't just teased him relentlessly while standing in his kitchen without any panties on.

He blushed and let out a laugh. "I'm sorry. I get hard so easily," Chris nervously apologized, nibbling on his lip and trying to hide his erection. "I don't mind," you smirked at him.

The two of you finished making food, made your plates, and sat down to eat. You teased him throughout dinner, running your foot up his leg and making flirtatious comments as you made eyes at him in the glow of the candlelight.

You poured yourself a second glass of wine and then another one. Before you knew it, you and Chris had nearly finished off the bottle, and the sexual tension between the two of you was growing.

"You don't mind if I stay the night here, do you? I've had a lot of wine," you asked him, slightly slurring your words as you twirled your noodles around your fork. "No, I don't mind at all," he replied nervously, taking the last bite of his spaghetti.

"You still get nightmares?" You wondered, taking a sip of your wine. He let out a small chuckle. "What's so funny?" You asked.

"I hate to break this to you, but I never really had an issue with nightmares, not since I was really little," he nervously confessed, fidgeting with the base of his glass.

"What? What about all those bad dreams you used to have when I babysat you?" You inquired, looking puzzled. "I was faking," he said, biting back a grin.

"Christopher," you replied sharply, glaring in his direction and slugging him in the arm. There was a bit of real anger behind your tone.

You'd spent many nights worrying about Chris and his bad dreams. So much to the point that it had cut into your own sleep on many occasions and caused issues in your relationship, which didn't matter in hindsight, considering how much an asshole your boyfriend at the time was.

Chris, on the other hand, loved how genuinely you cared for him, and the way you'd always drop everything to lull him back to sleep with your warm, inviting voice and the soft caress of your hand against his cheek.

You couldn't stay mad at him, though. In a lot of ways you found it endearing how much he wanted to be around you, but you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that an eleven-year-old had come up with such an elaborate scheme.

"I know, I know. I just wanted you in my bed," he smirked. "Naughty boy," you rolled your eyes. "Maybe I'll pretend to have one tonight, so you'll have to come to bed with me and help me back to sleep," he lustfully responded. "Yeah? I bet I know how to tire you out," you flirted back.

His cock strained at the cotton fabric of his pants as you stared into his eyes, wetting your lips and parting your legs to give Chris another glimpse at what you had between them. He nibbled on his bottom lip, his sparkling eyes traveling to your glistening folds.

"Can I eat my dessert now, mommy?" He sweetly asked, but you slammed your legs shut and gave him a mischevious look.

Now what? He thought to himself, wondering what hoop you were going to make him jump through next before giving him what he wanted.

"I want mine first," you snickered, kneeling down in front of him and tugging at his sweats. He swallowed hard, looking down at you wide-eyed, but he listened, lifting his hips and allowing you to pull them down just enough for his cock to spring out of them.

You could sense how tense and nervous he was, literally sitting on the edge of his seat and his breath growing shallow and irregular.

"You're so hard," you observed, wrapping your fingers around his thickness and stroking it up and down. "All for me?" You cooed, watching a bit of precum gather at his tip.

"Yes, mommy," Chris said in a gravelly whisper. "All for you," he eagerly nodded, waiting in anticipation for what you were about to do next.

You leaned in, planting a kiss on his swollen head and slurping up the clear liquid from his slit. His cock twitched in response. You felt his whole body relax beneath you.

He slowly sunk back into his chair as he gave himself over to the wonderful feeling of your tongue fluttering around on all his sensitive nerve endings. "No one's ever done that to me before," he admitted in a timid voice as you wrapped your lips around his swollen tip and gently suckled on it.

"You like it, don't you?" You cooed before licking a long stripe from the base of his shaft all the way up his length and slipping him back into your mouth again.

"Mhmm," he whined, nodding as his hands found their way to your shoulders. He gently dug his fingernails into your back as you combined the two techniques, swirling your tongue around on his tip while you created a bit of suction.

He had always fantasized about getting head, but he didn't know it could feel this magical. He adored every subtle motion as you learned what he liked best.

His hand tenderly grazed the back of your head as he silently encouraged you to take more of him. You smirked, sliding down his length, feeling every vein with your tongue and swallowing him inch-by-inch until your nose was pressed up against his lower abdomen.

"Oh, yes. Just like that mommy," Chris pathetically whimpered as you hummed against the base of his cock. He slid down further into his chair, his eyes locked on the way your lips stretched around him.

You started bobbing your head up and down, eliciting a few soft gagging noises from you. The sound of you lightly choking on his dick drove Chris crazy.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face and placed both his hands on your ears as he tossed his head back and let out a strangled moan. He lifted his hips, driving his cock further into your throat. You could feel him quivering against your tongue as you slid back up his length, pulling your mouth off of him with a pop.

His lips curled into a smile as he peered back down at you. "Mommy. I was so close," he whimpered, his chest rising and falling with his labored breath.

"I know, pretty boy, but we gotta clean the kitchen before you can cum," you taunted him, climbing to your feet.

He licked his pouty lips as he let out a defeated sigh and pulled his sweats back on over his hard cock. He followed you to the kitchen, dragging his feet and silently throwing a fit about not being able to finish.

You put away the leftovers while Chris did the dishes, the whole time his cock aching at the absence of your mouth.

His erection was pinned between his stomach and the lip of the counter, and as he squeezed the excess water out of the sponge, he found himself rutting his hips forward and gently grinding against the marble finish.

You hoisted yourself up onto the countertop beside him and whispered in his ear, "Easy. You better not cum in your pants or mommy's gonna be really mad at you."

A pained whine drifted to your ears as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded. He went back to the dishes, trying to ignore his raging boner and trying to keep himself from rubbing up against the furniture like a dog in heat.

As he finished up drying off the last plate, you hiked up your skirt and flashed him your pussy again. His eyes widened, and his tongue darted out and slithered over his lips.

"Please, mommy. Can I have my dessert now?" He begged you, his voice saturated with lust and his eyebrows furrowed together in a look of desperation. "Yes, pretty boy. Come eat it," you nodded, spreading your labia open with two of your fingers.

He kneeled down in front of you, nervously leaning in to close the distance between his mouth and your cunt. You felt his warm breath first and the tickle of his smooth cheek grazing the inside of your thigh. He planted a delicate kiss on your pussy, causing you to grip his soft hair and gently tug on it.

He moaned against your sensitive bundle of nerves before gripping your legs and pulling you closer to him. Your mouth curled into a smile as he placed his hands on the insides of your thighs, pushing them as far apart as they could go. He gently nuzzled your clit before his pretty blue eyes flicked backed up at you, silently asking for your validation.

"Good boy. You're doing a perfect job. You're a natural," you praised him, running your fingers through his brown locks. That was all he needed to boost his confidence.

His kisses became more deliberate and more passionate as he drooled all over your cunt, periodically slurping up the mixture of his saliva and your wetness. You squirmed and squealed beneath him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs while he kissed, licked, and sucked on your sensitive area.

"Mommy, you taste so sweet," he complimented you, coming up for air for a moment. He lapped away, his tongue swirling around on your delicate folds as you started to tremble beneath him. "Chris.." you hissed, your body tightening.

Your head fell back against the wooden cabinet behind you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He couldn't tell if he was wine drunk or pussy drunk, but a warm, fuzzy sensation overpowered him as he lost himself in you, forgetting the boundary between his mouth and your heat.

He almost couldn't believe that he was making you feel that good, but the way your body was reacting to him seemed genuine. A few loud moans fell from your lips as you shivered, finishing onto his velvet tongue.

"Wow," you whispered, panting as you tried to regain your composure. "Was that your first time eating pussy?" You asked him, still gently combing through his hair with your fingers. He peered up at you, timidly nodding.

"That was the best head I've ever gotten, Chris. Your tongue is every girl's dream," you giggled, reaching for the hem of Chris' shirt. He loved the way you showered him in compliments. "Please. Take this off, and put your big cock in me."

"Big?" He whispered, looking into your eyes. "What? Does that surprise you, baby? That you're big?" You asked him, helping him take off his shirt. He slowly nodded, pulling his dick back out of his sweats and peering down at it as he lined it up with your entrance.

"You gotta be gentle with me at first because of how big it is, okay?" You cooed, biting back a smirk. You knew you could handle it, but you knew your words were like music to his ears.

"Okay," he replied, gently tapping it against your clit before slipping the tip into your hole. It felt better than he ever could have imagined. He gingerly rocked his hips back and forth, allowing you to get used to his size as he firmly placed his hands on your hips.

His jaw fell slack, and a look of pleasure seeped into his expression. It took everything in him to go slow and gentle, trying so hard not to get carried away. A couple faint whines unfurled from your lips, and Chris immediately stopped, glancing up at you.

"Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" He sweetly asked, concerned that the noises you were making were out of pain. "No, baby. I'm making those sounds because it feels really good. Go deeper," you whispered, tenderly cradling his face.

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, fucking you a little deeper and a little faster. He leaned in to kiss you, your lips locking with his as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. His shaky hand slid up the hem of your shirt, and he gently squeezed your breast, noting to himself that you also hadn't worn a bra.

The soft clicking sounds of your mouth filled the space between you. You could taste the rosé mixed with the flavor of your pussy on his tongue as you pulled him deeper into the kiss. He felt completely intoxicated - drunk off of the wine and drunk off of you.

Once he pulled back, his eyes wandered between your legs. He took in the lovely sight of your pussy expanding around his girth.

"Harder, baby. Fuck me harder," you ordered him, resting your hand on his chest and feeling his sped up heart rate. You heard his breath quicken as he picked up the pace.

He pushed up your pretty, blue top, exposing your tits. He was immediately enamored with them, gently pinching your nipples between his fingers and listening to the pretty sounds that left your mouth as he played with you.

"Suck on them, baby," you directed him, and he nodded, leaning in to take each one into his mouth as he squeezed each one in each hand.

"Such a good boy," you purred, petting the back of his head and massaging his scalp with your manicured nails. He whimpered against your breast, the vibration sending pleasure through your nipple and causing you to clench around his cock.

"Faster, Chris. Faster," you demanded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer. "Fuck," Chris muttered, stopping abruptly. You felt his cock pulsating inside of you. He was afraid if he moved at all, it would send him over the edge before he could finish you off.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm? Why'd you stop?" You cooed, cradling his head and pushing his face into your breasts. "So close, mommy," he whimpered, holding his body still and using every last ounce of willpower to keep from drilling into you and letting his orgasm run its course.

"Fuck. I can't," he whined, pulling out of you and waiting for the feeling to subside. "It's okay, baby. Yes, you can. Take a breather," you encouraged him, placing a hand on either side of his head with his nose just inches from yours as you peered into his beautiful, blue eyes. He nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

After a few moments of fending off his climax, he slid it back in, letting it go in all the way before pulling out again. He watched in awe at the way you stretched so perfectly around him as he plunged into you with his thick cock over and over again.

"I wanna turn you around so bad," he whispered, peering into your eyes as he pulled out again. You hoisted yourself off of the counter, spinning around, and propping your leg up on the edge of the marble cuntertop.

"Give it to me, pretty boy. Fuck me as hard and as fast as you can," you instructed him. "Yes, mommy," he answered, pushing up your tight skirt and slipping his length into your cunt from the back. He loved being told what to do by you.

"Good boy," you moaned as he started pistoning his hips forward, driving his cock deep into your drooling pussy as he reached around and grabbed a handful of your breast.

You could feel his hot breath against your ear and hear his pretty moans as he fucked you with all his strength. "Oh, Chris.. so big.. gonna cum.. gonna cum all over your big cock," you babbled as you shook violently.

Your orgasm hit your system, feeling like a series of explosions going off in your body. You tightly gripped the edge of the cool, marble counter as you clenched around him again, finishing all over his rod. Your juices flowed down the sides of his dick as he railed you, extracting your climax from you.

"Good boy. You made me cum all over it," you breathlessly whimpered, trying to catch your breath. A satisfied smile started in the corner of his lip as he realized he'd made you finish. "Fill me up, Chris," you demanded, letting your head fall back against his chest as he pounded into you.

He couldn't take it anymore. The feeling of your pussy convulsing around him and your words encouraging him to shoot his load inside of you, it was all too much.

He delivered a few more powerful thrusts, jerking his hips forward and triggering his own orgasm. His strokes slowed to a stop as he filled you to the brim, pumping you full of his liquid.

Pleasure coursed through him, leaving him feeling completely drained after, but in the best way, like he'd just finished running a marathon and had won first place.

He finally pulled out of you, nearly collapsing onto the floor and having to steady himself on the counter as all the blood rushed back to the rest of his body.

You spun back around, hoisting yourself back up onto the marble counter and spreading your legs and your puffy lips open for him again.

"Look at how much you came," you smirked, putting yourself on display for him as his thick, sticky fluid leaked from your cunt. He focused his blurry vision on the way it gushed out of you every time you clenched around nothing.

"Oh my god. It looks perfect," he responded, admiring the mess he made before slumping over and nestling his nose in the crook of your neck. A wave of embarrassment overcame him, wondering if he'd done a good job or if he was too awkward or shy about it all.

"Was I o-okay?" He nervously asked, his voice becoming small and shakey. "Chris. I can't feel my legs," you chuckled back in response. "Is th-that a good thing?" He timidly asked. "It's a great thing, Chris. You give the best dick. Best I've ever had in my life."

Your praises had blood rushing back to his cock, and it sprung to life once more.

"Oh, don't tell me that. You're gonna make me wanna give it to you again," Chris whispered as you felt his erection poking you in the thigh. You chuckled, surprised by his stamina.

"Give it to me again, baby. I promise. I can take it."

taglist: @nomusic-nodreams @sturnzsblog @pottersfia @sturnlsstuff @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @moonlightsturns @hrtz4alex2211 @verstarkey @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova

[minnietrys]

Determination

◯ Cho Hyun-ju x Fem! Reader

△ Alt!Universe— Setting her determination as first she manages to call in hopes of your promise

▢ just a cute phone call :p (give me date ideas)

Cherish

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

Thank you for all the support on cherish so here is the longer await part two ^^

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

Deep breath, you’ve got this. Hyunju thought as she stared at your phone number, she can call you she can definitely do it. But what stopping her? Is it the thought you of not answering? Or what if you’re busy and she calls at the wrong time? What if you think she is a scam caller and block her?

Groaning in frustration she buries in face into her hands rethinking the wonderful moment you shared yesterday. Bringing a smile to her face she peeks though her fingers and get one more good look at your number but while scanning the paper her eyes land on the heart again.

Blushing and biting back her smile she sighs in delight. This is a good thing your finally coming out of your shell she thought to herself while she reaches out for her phone yet again.

Pushing in your digits she decides to put her determination first. Her determination of cherishing you. Her determination of finally and hopefully being happy.

Press call…it’s ringing…

“Hello?” A tried but delicate voice answers. It’s the voice she remembers from the coffee shop that said she was going to keep her sugar hostage if she didn’t text.

Trying to form words she lets the most embarrassing thing come out.. “Your sugar right?.”

“Huh?!?!” Hyunju immediately slaps herself on the forehead upon hearing your shock…what did she just say..?How can she mix up your name with sugar? How do you feel? Because basically someone you probably don’t remember just called you sugar…

“Umm…did you maybe get my phone number from a hooker called sugar?” She could hear your giggles but she won’t steep that low to get a hooker’s number.

“I’m so sorry..it just you told me to text you if not your going to keep the sugar hostage but then I asked if I can call you and you yes if I did I can buy you coffee but then the sugar stayed in my mind so I called you sugar.. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean that.” Hyunju rapping that out of mouth with a cry of embarrassment in her voice. She wanted to bury herself six feet under right now.

“Ohh Hyunju Unnie!” You said with excitement and relief wait did she just say she didn’t mean it…

You hear a hum on the other line but you quickly cut it off “So I’m not sugar..?” You asked in a teasing tone in hopes of getting the reaction you want.

“Yes ofc your sweet and kind like sugar but It’s just that I didn’t—” you can hear her panicking over the other line but she stops once she hears you laughing… smacking her lips she asks “are you teasing me?” You could almost hear her expression drop.

“Oh of couseee NOT! “ she can basically she your nose grow like Pinocchio though the call, though she may not know much about you. You’re not a good liar, you’re by far one of the worst and that makes her happy. Because everything that went down yesterday seems to not be a lie.

“Hmm if you say so, but say your the best kind of sugar” Hyunju couldn’t help but bite her lip as she tested the water with that tho you couldn’t help but smile and giggle “You are way more flirtatious than I thought” you had to admit.

“So you been thinking about me?” She couldn’t help but smile while holding but a small screech.

“Oh…I guess it’s my turn to be embarrassed.” you couldn’t help but feel the blood rush to your cheek but continued “Though your one of my best thoughts I do have to say.”

It’s was now Hyunju turn to feel the blood rush to her cheeks and she just froze meanwhile you screamed into your pillow scaring your roommate.

“Y/N! What happened” youngmi came running in with a broom looking like she was go attack if needed but she just saw you yelling into your pillow about admitting something.

Trying to catch your breath “I just admitted to someone very very pretty that’s she my best thought” you whined out “isn’t that a good thing?” She questioned while her face scrunched up. “I don’t know maybe! I mean I just met her a few days ago.. and I don’t wanna be pushy you know?” she saw your lip trembling again so she just threw the broom at you tried of your shit and snatching your phone.

“Hello, I’m so sorry my roommate y/n is stupid when it comes to people her type. Though I should mention please take her away, you can keep her.” wait ‘her type’ does that mean Hyunju is your type? Is that why you’re thinking about her?

Trying her hardest to not overreact Hyunju thinks fast for a reply “Um I can’t promise you that? What if she doesn’t want to?” Like come on Hyunju just can’t keep you because someone told her though she won’t mind. What is it that you want I mean if you want her to keep you she will.

“Oh trust me, she does…” youngmi says while side eyeing your overreaction. “You would be supporting a great cause!”

“What cause?” Hyunju said with curiosity like what in the world can that benefit. “The youngmi stress free cause!” She said out loud aimed at you to hear but all that happened was more screaming from you.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that cause but I can for sure take her out for coffee, lunch, or dinner.” She might have been too scared to mention “date” cause who knows if it’s too early for that word.

“YOU HEARD THAT STUPID YOU GOT A DATE!” Well so much for too early. But what Hyunju heard next bought a big smile to her face.

“What!! Really?!?! All that manifesting work!”

“Hey stupid, guess what” youngmi said with an evil smirk causing your smile to drop.

“Is this another joke..?”

“Nope, you still on call with your soon to be girlfriend and you yelled all that” youngmi couldn’t contain her laughter anymore and passed you back your phone as she left your room.

“So um..about that date? This weekend?” You asked with hope of her not canceling after that whole ordeal. But all you heard was a beautiful giggle “you’re so cute, but yea this weekend.”

You both spent the next few hours getting to know each other bit better before your big date but when it was time to say goodbye the only thing you both could do was pout and promise to text each other till the weekend once you see each other again.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

Pass me those date ideas >.< did I proof read no… so if you saw any mistakes I’m not sorry I was enjoying watching hyunju edits

[saradika]

— bedroom hymns

mand'alor!sub!din x wife!dom!reader

rated e - 2.5k

tags: mand’alor!din, sub!din, soft dom!wife!reader, breeding kink, beskar cock cage, reference to needles & birth control, enthusiastic oral sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, references to pregnancy

a/n: my fic for @wannab-urs's event - dom that middle aged man! 💖 thank you so much for hosting this (and excited to share, I've always wanted to write sub!din!)

You’d liked this, when you first got together. His desire. How much he wanted to consume you. To take - the weight of his armor pressing into your back, as he drove you into the thin mattress of his bunk.

But this is what you like more. The leash he offers so willingly to you. Eager to obey, even as the collar tightens. Following at your heels.

After all, his duty is to his people. But it’s you that he serves.

His gaze has been on you all night.

You’ve learned the weight of it, even through his helmet. How his eyes find your form, again and again.

Lingering on your face - bare, as the traditions of your clans. On glint of silver against your throat, dipping down to your breasts.

His helmet tilting as he finds you again.

Knowing what he is thinking, for it is on your mind as well.

You’d managed a quick reunion. Lasting no more than a heartbeat, as you met him at his ship. Fingers tracing against your hip, as your lips pressed against the curve of his helmet. Bunching in the whisper-thin silk of your ceremonial dress.

Not finding what he was looking for. A growl, that was cut short.

All too eager to whisk you away, but even with his unexpected arrival, he hadn’t been able to escape his duty.

You’re too far away to hear the debriefing, but you can imagine your husband’s voice getting shorter. Impatient. Clipped.

That’s what two weeks away from you does to him.

Especially with the messages you sent to his holo, two days prior. Waiting until after the negotiations were done.

Giving him everything except what he wanted. Glimpses of flesh, where the gossamer robe wrapped around you. The soft curve of a breast, the fabric pebbled at shadowed peaks.

Glistening fingertips between plump flesh, swollen with desire.

The last was the only one with a message. A small, thin chip pinched between thumb and forefinger.

He’d know what it was.

Had been there when it was placed in your hip, his hand wrapped in yours as the needle pierced flesh.

Had talked about it often, late a night, a shared wish for the future.

One that has come, now.

Come home soon.

Din had been two days away.

After your message - he had made it in one.

He’s on you the moment the bedchamber door closes. Backing you up against the heavy stone. Gripping at your waist, as your face tips to his.

You’d liked this, when you first got together.

His desire.

How much he wanted to consume you. To take - the weight of his armor pressing into your back, as he drove you into the thin mattress of his bunk.

But that felt like a lifetime ago.

“Let me see you.”

There’s no hesitance in the way he reaches for his helmet, and you can feel the space between your thighs dampen.

His dark eyes blown wide with need, when it lifts off his head. Parted lips as he pants, brow furrowed. The thick curls, begging to be tugged.

But this is what you like more.

The leash he offers so willingly to you. Eager to obey, even as the collar tightens. Following at your heels.

After all, his duty is to his people.

But it’s you that he serves.

He moans against the press of your mouth. Once-clumsy kisses now practiced. Your teeth nipping at his lower lip until he opens willingly. Hips rocking against yours when you lick into his mouth.

Red painted against his mouth, from your painted ones.

It’s been far too long.

You’d never tell him, but you’d been waiting as well.

A sigh slipping from your lungs at the hands that skitter up your waist. Almost pawing at you as he mouths at your throat.

The pulse point beneath your ear.

Knowing better than to leave a mark.

That’s only for you - his skin your canvas.

His lips hovering at the necklace - a silver pendant tucked between your breasts. A soft and reverent kiss against it, as his legs start to bend.

Slowly lowering to his knees, as your thighs make room for him.

His nose ghosting against your belly. Down - tilting to kiss against your hip. Your mound, before he’s moving to inhale you.

“Let me.” It’s rasped out, as his eyes tilt up. Fingers gathering the hem that brushes your ankles, as his knees spread against stone.

“You were good?”

Din groans, his mouth pressing against your core. The silk dampening beneath his tongue, sticking the fabric against your slick folds.

His breath hot, and you have to resist the urge to squirm.

“Fuck,” His fingers inch higher. Stroking against soft skin, “You know I was, cyare.”

Your breath hitches, when his knuckles drag against your slit. Something akin to a whine sliding from his throat when he meets bare skin - his earlier curiosity finally sated.

“How did it feel?”

There’s a ragged huff of a laugh. His other hand dropping down to palm at his crotch. Teeth gritting, hips flexing.

Fingers parting you, letting the tip of his finger nudge at your entrance.

“You shouldn’t have sent those messages.”

Your eyebrow arches, your grin sly, “You didn’t like them?”

He makes another rough sound. A hand fisting on the hem of your skirt again - tugging it up until it’s gathered against your abdomen.

Baring you fully - the part of your thighs, where his palm curves against your core. Tongue dipping across his lip in anticipation.

An effort, in the way his eyes drag back up to your face. Voice rough, the scrape of stone against metal.

“You know what you do to me.”

You clench around his finger. Eager for him, though you’ve learned to school your face - a second mask to the one you wear.

How well your husband listens.

The verbal confirmation sending another hot rush of need. Your own fingers slipping down, past his knuckles. Fitting beneath the dip of his chin, petting between your slick thighs.

The tips coming back shining. His mouth parting automatically, as you slip two fingers against his tongue.

“And see what you do to me?”

His eyes slip shut - groaning, as he sucks. Tongue laving against your skin, thankful for anything you give him. Another shift of his hips, his own hand flexing against you, when you slide your fingers free.

Forefinger and thumb against his chin, leaving a gleam of spit behind, as you guide him where he aches to be.

You can feel the heat of his breath for a heartbeat, before his mouth meets you. The moan breathed out against your skin, tongue flattening against your clit.

Hungry, in the way he devours you. Lapping at the tight bud, while his finger remembers how to move. A second added, as his lips wrap around and suck.

It sends waves of bliss coursing through you. A tremble in your legs, before one hooks over his shoulder. A heel pressed against his armor, urging him closer.

He’s all too willing to obey. Losing himself in your pleasure, soft sounds slipping from his throat as he works you open. As his tongue flicks, again and again.

You can already feel it start to build. He’s always known how to touch you, his eagerness and your own self-restraint only fueling the fire in your belly.

“If only they could see you now,” You breathe out, in wonder. Tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, but it only makes him moan, “On your knees for me.”

His eyes lift to meet yours. Giving himself to you, his mind focused on only one thing - the taste of you against his tongue.

“What would they think, knowing I keep their Mand’alor in a cage?”

A low oath slips from him. Another flex of his hips, as his fingers curl against a spot that makes you see stars.

Your next words coming as a soft command.

“Show me.”

You mourn the way his fingers slip from you. Gleaming, as they drop to his armor. Loosening the golden belt, removing the ven'cabur beneath. Drawing himself out.

The light catches on the beskar beneath.

Pretty and gleaming. Ornamental in its design, but your family did come from a long line of forgers.

It had been easy, to craft a piece to compliment him. An extension of his armor. A near-constant reminder of your absence.

For that is what it was.

Not to punish him. Din would never stray, you believed that with your whole heart.

Instead, it was to ensure that he did not spill himself needlessly. That every drop of his essence was spent where it belonged - deep inside his wife’s pretty cunt.

A shared idea. A secret.

He had almost been late in leaving, with the amount of time it had taken to lock it around him. The key left with you, along with his heart.

“Pretty,” You coo. Even better up close, you're sure - though you will have to wait.

He hums in agreement. Focused now, tracing your clit with a pattern he knows will make you cum. The hand leaving his armor to knead the flesh of your ass, tilting your pussy to his mouth.

But you can’t resist teasing him, even as your breath grows short. As your tone catches on an edge, needing to hear it.

The toe of your boot shifting just enough to nudge at him.

“Whose pretty cock is that?”

A groan is muffled against your skin. His rhythm knocked off-kilter, as he mumbles his reply.

“Yours, cyare.”

You’re nearly there. The edges of your vision darkens, heart hammering behind your ribs.

“You-,” You start, as your toes curl. As the pressure builds in your belly, threatening to burst, “You want me to take it off?”

Surely he must feel the pressure of the metal. The way his cock strains with desire against the cage, still held back.

“No.” He rasps.

“Not yet.”

The denial makes you come. A cry leaving your lips as you fall apart against his mouth. As he licks at you eagerly - fingers fitting inside you once more, to give you something to clench around. Feeling the tight pulse around them, against the flat of his tongue.

Letting you ride out your orgasm, the pleasure shared. Hips shifting involuntarily, meeting open air.

And only when your back relaxes against the door, does he allow you to lead him to bed.

You leave marks against his skin, as you move down.

His armor removed carefully. Ritualistically, set aside in the padded crate near your shared bed.

Streaks of red from your lips, their outline lightening as it transfers. Neck, chest, abdomen.

Halting at the one piece he still wears.

The metal encircling him, giving you peeks of swollen skin. A jerk of his hips when you trace against his sack, drawn tight with need.

Then, up.

“You’re dripping.” Your fingers trace against the tip, just brushing the flushed skin beneath.

Coming back shining, his eyes fixed on yours as you taste him with your tongue.

“Is it for me?”

His answer comes in a roughened rush.

“Always.”

You hum, lips curling. Pushing yourself up, letting him watch the way you tug the dress from your shoulders. Baring yourself - the soft sways of your breasts, shifting until your hips rest flush with his.

His hands twitching where you pushed them above his head, warning him not to move.

Your name gritted out, a futile warning, when you shift against the cold metal of the cage.

Letting it slide against your clit, slick with your release. With his need, so wholly restrained.

“Please.” It’s bitten out.

Your fingers play with the necklace. His reaction cataloged away, for later. Eyes fixed on his as you slowly dip back down.

“Should make you wait longer,” You muse, “But you listened, didn’t you?”

He has long enough - you can see it in the way his muscles string tight. The need written across his face, as he watches your movement.

“I would wait,” Din husks, “For as long as you wished it.”

The spark flares to life again. A kiss press against the metal, before your necklace touches against it.

A click as the cage unlatches - careful in the way you ease it from him.

His breath comes in a low hiss, when you touch him. The feather-light drag of your nails against sensitive skin, jerking to life beneath your fingertips.

Hardening, now that he was no longer restrained. Two weeks of that tight pressure eased, and it feels like a fresh breath of air.

He tastes like you, when your mouth presses against his. Tongue stroking against yours when you line him up against your entrance, your fingers struggling to wrap around.

Moaning against your mouth, when you finally sink down.

Finally home.

Finally where he needs to be, as you gasp at the intrusion. His fingers opening you up before, but it’s always a stretch.

Leaving behind a delicious burn, one you’ve craved. Hips rocking as you get used to the weight of him inside you, once more. Until that dull ache bleeds away to bliss.

And finally your hips lift - gliding up the full length of him. Clenching around the tip before you drop back down.

One, two.

Hands braced against his chest as you bounce on his cock, as his own curl into fists. Eyes glazed - lips parted as he watches you, his heart pounding beneath your flattened palms.

Three, four.

Stroking a spot deep inside you, one you’d chase if he wasn’t so far gone. His eyes greedy where he watches you take him, the shine of his cock before it’s buried in you.

Five, six.

It’s then that you lean forward. Lips ghosting against his, pulling back before he can chase after.

“Are you going to give me what I want, riduur?” You croon, testing your teeth against his throat.

His pulse spiking - a rough buzz beneath your lips as he exhales a sharp breath.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Picking up speed, as you nip at his ear.

“Fill me? Get me swollen with you?” A hand ghosting across your belly, as you sigh against him, “Let everyone who you belong to?”

Din growls, but it pitches long. Low, caught in his throat at he shifts beneath you.

“Gedet’ye, ner runi.”

Slipping into his native tongue, as his thoughts loose in his grasp. His begging is a symphony, combined with the slap of your skin against his. With the slick slide of his cock, his panting breath.

“I can’t-," Din husks, "Not going to last.”

Your lips stretch wide with your smile.

“Want you to,” You purr, “Give me what you were made for.”

Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen.

Once again, your husband comes early.

Forgetting himself - his hands coming to grip at the curve of your waist. Denting flesh as he tugs you down, holding you against the rut of his hips as he spills with a muffled shout inside you.

A ragged breath, each time his cock throbs. Wordless moans as two weeks of his desire is spent, filling you until it threatens to spill over.

Until the iron-grip of his fingers relax. Eyes left-heavy lidded. Only tightening when you make to move off him.

Keeping you in place, his cock still notched to the hilt inside you.

“I missed you.” You tell him, fingers tracing his jaw. Against grown-long scruff, flecked with silver.

A kiss pressed against the spot that never fills in all the way. More peppered across his cheek, until his breathing slows.

“Missed you.” It’s huffed out. The flash of teeth, as he draws your mouth to his.

Still hungry, even after all this time. Barely sated, even as he fills you.

“Did you-?” It’s murmured against your lips, when you break to breathe, “You meant it?”

Your eyes are soft, when you grab his hand to your hip. The still-tender spot, letting his thumb press against soft skin.

He groans, low and throaty. Flipping you beneath him, as his eyes drag down your form - as if you have changed, already.

As if it’s already taken, as your thighs widen to make room for him. Letting him slip from you, but his fingers are already there.

Sliding against slick skin. Gathering himself up - where he’s leaked from you. Fucking it back inside, working himself deeper.

Stroking against that spot, as his lips slot against yours.

He’ll make you come again.

Again, and again, if that’s what it takes.

Your husband was always good at giving you what you want.

thank you so much for reading! excited to start this year off like the last - domming our fave old men. 💖

mando'a translations:

cyare - beloved riduur - spouse ven'cabur - codpiece ner runi - my soul gedet’ye - please

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Hotel Pool

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: SMUT, fluff, oral (fmr), squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, breaking and entering? Dean's bad ideas

Summary: You and Dean enjoy the luxuries of a real hotel, which includes having some fun in the pool and the comfortable beds

You, Sam, and Dean were working a werewolf case the British Men of Letters had put you on. One of the BMoL, Mick Davies had decided to join you, much to you and Dean's disdain. After a few hours in the car of having to listen to his podcasts and you actively fighting rolling your eyes, Mick told you to turn into a parking lot.

Dean pulled into the lot of 'The Wild Elk Lodge', an actual hotel. You and the boys were so used to staying in run down motels, that a place like this was like a five star resort.

"This place seems a little-"

"Shabby? Yeah. 3 stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suits," Mick said.

"Wait, we're all in separate rooms?" Sam said in disbelief.

When you stayed at motels, the three of you usually shared one room. You and Dean would crammed yourself onto what was typically a twin-size bed, and Sam would get the other bed or the couch.

"Yeah of course. Except for the two lovebirds, obviously." Mick motioned between you and Dean and again, you fought not to roll your eyes.

"Did you say 3 stars? So we're talking fresh towels, little baby shampoos?" Dean interjected.

"Uh-huh... And I believe theres a pool," Mick said walking through the doors of the nice hotel.

You and Dean shared a look of excitement and disbelief. You were definitely going to be checking out the pool later.

You stepped into your room and Dean let out a low whistle of approval. It was nice. Everything was clean and white with a queen-size bed, it even had a fireplace.

Dean set you bags down and started looking around the room. You flopped down on the bed and almost moaned at how comfortable it was.

"Oh my God," you said in satisfaction as you felt the ache in your back subside.

"What?" Dean poked his head out from where he had been looking around in the bathroom.

"This bed is so soft."

"Well, we'll have to test it out later." Wiggling his eyebrows, he smiled and then flopped down next to you. "Damn, yeah."

"Mh, told you."

"Do they make their beds out of clouds and unicorn feathers, what the hell?"

You laughed, "I don't know, but I think we need to get a new mattress for the bunker, cause this is amazing."

Dean groaned. "This is going to ruin us," He got up and moved to pull out his laptop. "We stay here 5 minutes and we're already spoiled."

He sat at the small table by the window and began going over a few things for the case. You stayed layed out on the bed and eventually, you unintentionally drifted off to sleep.

A couple hours later you woke to Dean gently shaking your shoulder. You groaned and sat up to look at the clock, it was late at night now.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" you said, smoothing down your hair.

"You needed it, plus you looked so comfortable, how could I disturb you?"

"I could've helped with the research though."

"Nah there wasn't much too it. The Brits actually did their job for once, buuuut now that that's done, I was thinking we could go check out that pool."

"Baby, it's late, the hotel closes it at night."

"I know," he said, with a mischief that shone in his eyes when he was up to no good.

"So you have a plan?" you inquired, raising a brow and trying to hide your smile.

"Sweetheart, I always have a plan," he gave a proud smile and pulled his lockpicking kit from his pocket.

You felt like teenagers sneaking out of the house, except this time you we sneaking in and you were supposed to be adults. This also was far from the riskiest thing you and Dean had done, but what were you if not his partner in crime.

He had picked the lock on the door in seconds, defiant of the 'hours of operation' sign directly above it. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dark room, the only light was the faint moonlight shining through the windows, but it was enough to make out Dean's silhouette as he stripped down to his boxers.

As you removed your outer clothing, he jumped into the water, the sound echoing off the walls.

"At least try to be quiet," you chastised as you lowered yourelf into the pool, adjusting to the temperature.

You had to admit, this was a pretty good idea on Dean's part. I mean, it wasn't really a good idea, you could get caught at any moment, but you still were going to take your time to enjoy the nice pool. You loved to swim and it had been a long time since you had been to a motel that had a pool that didn't look like you would catch a disease from it.

After a while of swimming, you went to sit on the side of the pool with your feet dangling in the water and watched your boyfriend glide underwater from one end of the pool to the other.

He emerged in front of you and shook the water from his hair, spraying you with droplets and moved to stand between your knees.

"This is nice," he said, running a hand up the side of your bare thigh.

You hummed in agreement , the tips of your fingers toying with a strand of his wet hair.

"Nice being able to get you all wet."

You couldn't help but rool your eyes at his signature smirk that followed that comment. "Too bad I'm not wet and naked," you teased.

"We can fix that."

He slid his hand up higher and hooked his fingers into the sides of your underwear. He looked at you to gage if you we ok with this, to which you responded by raising your hips, allowing him to pull your panties off.

"So beautiful," he whispered, kissing from your knee up your inner thighs.

You leaned back on your hands and spread your legs wider for him. You were rewarded by him hooking your knees over his shoulders and licking up your entrance.

Your head fell back as he began to devour you like a man starved, alternating between long licks and sucking on your clit. It never failed to amaze you how quickly he could pull you to the edge with just his mouth. You were already close when he focused all his attention on your clit and buried two fingers deep inside you, curling them upwards. Within seconds you were falling apart, trying in vain to still keep somewhat quiet.

As you were coming down from your orgasm, he lifted you from the side of the pool and eased you back into the water so he could hold you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and moaned as you felt his bulge pressing through his boxers. He held you for a moment,stroking a hand down your back and letting you recover.

You reached down between your bodies with the intention of providing him a fraction of the pleasure he had given you, when he stopped you. You looked up at him in confusion.

"Let's go back to our room and finish this, ok?" he responded softly.

You nodded eagerly and he helped you out of the water to dry off and re-dress, before quietly making it back to the hotel room.

Once inside the door, you were all over each other until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you let yourself fall back onto the bed. He pulled your clothes off, covering each uncovered part of your body in kisses. When you were both undressed he paused holding up a finger. He slid off the bed and moved to light the fire, casting a romantic glow over the room. After he layed down towels over the bed so you didn't soak it with your still-damp hair and -um other things...

He returned to hover over you, setting his palms on either side of your head. He dipped down to kiss the water droplets off your neck and collar bone. Your body ached for him, your fingers dug into his shoulders as he left a soft bite on your sweet spot. You lifted your hips to grind against him, letting out a soft moan as you felt his cock slide against your clit.

He pulled back from you, it took restraint to not sink into you, but he knew the more he teased you and worked you up, the better it would feel. Instead he reached down to run his finger over your swollen bud to your entrance.

"So wet," he praised.

"Well I mean we were in the-". He cut you off with a kiss and you smiled against his lips.

He dipped two fingers into you, curling them upwards making you let out a soft moan. "I know the difference, I know that this is all because of what I do to you."

He kissed you again as he eased his finger in and out of you. Slow and teasing, not enough to bring you to release, but still causing you to moan into his mouth and he was drinking up every sweet sound. He finally stopped when your fingers were digging into his bicep, signaling your desperation.

He sat back between your legs, admiring how you looked, flushed skin that was still freckled with droplets of water that reflected the light from the fire. You admired him the same. Every muscle and scar accentuated by the lighting. He was perfect to you.

"Please Dean," you breathed, reaching out a hand, desperate to touch him again.

He gave a smile that seemed almost peaceful, grateful, full of affection for you. He slid his plams up and down your legs, massaging gently before moving them to wrap around his hips. Positioning himself at your entrance, it only took him shifting to hover over you and he was fully inside you.

Your back arched, chest rising to touch his. His head fell into the crook of your neck, taking a moment to feel you around him. After you adjusted, you started to roll your hips into him, silently begging for him to move. Understanding your desire, he started to thrust into you. Still slow and gentle, but perfect. You could feel every inch of him, every ridge and curve, reaching parts inside you that no one else was able to find.

His hand moved to cradle your head while his other arm wrapped around your arched back, pulling you too him. Times like these it felt like the air between you was too much distance. He would hold you close until it became hard to tell where you ended and he began.

His pace started to increase, his movements gaining a desperate edge. The feel of him inside you made you numb to everything else. Your fingers dug into his back as you felt that familiar pressure building. Every movement heightened your pleasure until you were crying his name. He tried to shush you given that you were in a hotel. The pressure continued to build, more intense than usual. His hand came up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

"That's it, that's my girl. Cum for me."

His voice was all it took for one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had to come crashing over you. His pace faltered as you tightened around him, triggering his own release. Your climax continued and as he came and suddenly you gushed around his cock.

He relaxed on top of you, trying to recover from his orgasm, but you were rigid with shock.

"Did I just...?" you started to ask in confusion.

"Yes, yes you did," he smiled, clearly pleased with you and himself.

You felt confused and shocked and a little shy. He moved down the bed to inspect the damage.

"God baby you soaked the bed, glad we layed down a towel huh." He pulled the towel from under you and tossed it into the bathroom.

Your hands came up to cover your face.

"Hey, do not be embarrassed about that. That was awesome." He pulled your hands down and you could see his proud smile.

"I've never done that," you said quietly. Honestly you didn't even think you could.

"Want to see if I can make you do it again?" he asked playfully.

"God no, I could hardly handle the first time!" you laughed.

Dean never made you feel insecure about anything. It was nice to be able to explore new things with him. Sometimes he was even more adventurous than you. Like suggesting you break into a hotel pool in the middle of the night, but were glad to be his partner in crime. His partner in everything.

He kissed you sweetly and maneuvered your bodies so you were now laying under the covers.

"We definitely need to do this hotel thing again," he sighed, settling into the soft bed. He pull you close so your back was pressed to his chest and tucked his face into your neck.

"Now who's getting spoiled?"

"Hey! Maybe we do need new beds in the bunker that don't make my back hurt."

"Old man."

"Shut up and go to sleep." You could feel his laugh rumble in his chest as he squeezed you tight.

"I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart."