#so i noticed it later but i was like yeah. still stands

[watermelonlovershigh]

can we have some smut that sort of focuses on the bulge 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like y/n sort of admiring it clothed and just being so into that

5 Times You've Obsessed Over Harry's Bulge (SMUT)

AN: I had too many ideas for this concept so i decided to turn this into one of my numbered fics. where i give several different scenarios. hope that's alright. don't forget to leave me your feedback and enjoy. xoxo

This contains: implications of sex, dirty talk, fluff, mild angst, jealousy, dry humping

{ husband!harry - softrry - au!harry (aka not famous in this) }

word count- 1,989

Five different scenarios where you admire and love on Harry's bulge.

There is an undeniable attraction to Harry's bulge that captivates your attention. Regardless of whether he's dressed in jeans, sweatpants, shorts, or underwear, his bulge is striking and turns you on. It's not solely the moments when his hard dick is evident beneath his clothing that draw you in; even in a relaxed state, he's so big that a subtle outline is noticeable between his legs if one chooses to observe. But note that your admiration for Harry's bulge is entirely positive and respectful. Being married, you appreciate how much he enjoys your liking to that part of him, and it brings him joy to know that you cherish something in which he exclusively shares with you.

Here's some of the instances when you gawk and drool over Harry's bulge (hard or not hard):

1.) Harry has just stepped out of the shower, and you're in bed, patiently waiting for him to join you for the night. You can hear him moving around in the bathroom, likely drying off and brushing his teeth. Moments later, he swings the bathroom door open in only his briefs, letting out a rush of humid air, and makes his way into the bedroom after turning the bathroom lights off.

Before he can walk to his side of the bed, you mutter, "Nu-hu."

Harry stops to look at you suspiciously. "What?"

You gesture for him to approach you with your index finger, and Harry complies. He walks up to your side of the bed, per your request. At this point, his lower body aligns with the height of the bed, bringing his bulge almost directly in front of you. You can tell he isn't hard just from recognizing what his relaxed appendage looks like. However, the considerable size of him creates a pronounced outline in his boxer briefs.

You look down between his legs and shift closer to the edge of the bed, leaning in to place a gentle kiss directly on his bulge. Harry lets out a soft moan. "Baby, mhm. What'r you doin'?"

Smiling up at your husband, you reply, "Giving little Harry a kiss goodnight."

Harry tilts his head back and laughs heartily. "Oh, little Harry is gonna offer you much more than just a goodnight kiss in return." He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself over your body, and it's evident that the soft bulge that was previously concealed in his underwear has become firm and is now nestled between your legs.

2.) As you're lounging on the couch, Harry burst through the door, breathless and slick with sweat from his morning run around the neighborhood. You can't help but to drool over his appearance. His hair is secured in a small claw clip on the top of his head, and his skin is shimmering with a sun-kissed hue. He has a way of looking exceptionally good after a workout. Especially when his bare, yet tattooed chest is visible. As well as the defined bulge between his legs that's quite eye-catching.

Standing up from the sofa, you make your way over to where Harry's kicking his running shoes off and wrap your arms around him in a hug. Giggling, Harry speaks, "Baby, m' all sweaty and probably stink."

Still latched on to him in a hug, you reply, "Don't care. You're so hot after a run."

Harry now becomes cocky, loving the way you're speaking about him. "Yeah? Does it turn you on?"

You give a slight nod and let one of your hands glide down, carefully cupping his bulge through his tight running shorts. Harry almost falls, his knees nearly collapsing. Fortunately, you're there to steady him in your hold.

As you feel his bulge begin to grow in your hand, you kneel and carefully pull down his shorts, offering him a blowjob right in the foyer of your house. The slight taste of sweat introduces an additional flavor, but you proceed with the same eagerness as always.

Harry feels honored to have a wife who finds him so appealing that you'll engage in such activities after his exercise, a sentiment not many people would consider doing.

3.) You're on a short road trip. Harry has arranged a delightful surprise: a weekend escape to a charming Airbnb cabin located in the woods. As he drives, you sit comfortably in the passenger seat, with the soothing sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing gently in the background.

With the windy roads and calm scenery, Harry can't help but let his mind wander to you and how much he loves you. How special you are to him. How he can't wait to make love to you in front of the cozy fireplace at the cabin that awaits you both.

Deep in his thoughts, it takes Harry a few minutes to realize his cock was hardening up in his jeans. He didn't mean to get hard while driving, it just sort of happened. But that's what tends to happen anytime he starts daydreaming about you. He chalks it up to being a love boner.

For a while, Harry sits in his seat uncomfortably, occasionally shifting to adjust himself. After the tenth time of moving in his seat, you begin to notice and question, "You alright, babe? Gotta pee or something?"

Trying to play it off, Harry lies, "Nope, m' fine. All good." That's when you take a closer look and notice the bulge between his legs.

"Harry, you're hard. What's got you so worked up while you're driving?"

Embarrassed, he admits, "Fine, was thinkin' about you and how much I love you and all the things I wanna do to you at the cabin. Didn't mean to get hard."

With a softer tone, you reply, "Yeah, that's so sweet of you, baby." Harry thinks the moment is over, but he's caught off guard when he feels your hand move across the center console to grasp him over his jeans. He tilts his head back, moaning softly, as you continue to rub your palm over his bulge, aiming to make him jizz in his pants. Ultimately, he finds it necessary to pull over, as his foot on the gas pedal begins to tremble, and he wishes to avoid any danger of crashing.

4.) It was the middle of July when you and Harry decide to enjoy a day at the beach. You're wearing your black bikini, and Harry's sporting his tight yellow swim trunks. You spend most of your time lying on your beach towel, attempting to tan, while Harry lays next to you for a short period before opting to take a swim.

He instructs you to sit up and watch him, reminiscent of a young child, and you find it quite endearing. Harry ventures a few feet into the water as the waves collide with his tattooed chest, and you notice him waving at you with his sun-kissed arms.

Moments later, Harry emerges from the salty sea, and you observe closely as he approaches your designated area on the beach. You notice several beachgoers directing their attention towards him, and you even hear a man whistle as your husband walks by. This fires up a hint of jealousy within you, yet you find solace in the fact that he'll be in your bed tonight, not theirs.

As Harry stands before you, water cascading down his body, the reason for the attention he's receiving becomes evident. While it's a known fact that he's generally considered an attractive man, it's the unmistakable outline of his cock that's visible through his wet swim shorts that's captured the gaze of onlookers. You're aware that Harry usually exhibited some form of a bulge, but the thin fabric of his swimwear, now soaked, leaves little to the imagination.

While you admire the view, you're less than pleased that everyone else on the beach is enjoying the same sight. You tug at Harry's hand, urging him to take a seat beside you on his towel. "Ouch! What was that for?"

Turning your head to face him, you whisper, "Your swim trunks, Harry."

Confused, Harry asks, "What about them?"

With a sigh of frustration, you express, "You can see everything in those shorts. They fit snugly around your hips and they're thin and wet. The outline of your dick is clearly visible. Your bulge is very defined right now."

"Thought you liked my bulge?" Harry speaks with a cheeky smile.

"Harry, you know I do but I don't want the whole beach to see it too."

With a more serious tone, Harry conveys, "M'love, I could be fully unclothed, wanderin' this beach, and let me assure you: you are the only one who has the right to touch my body. You're the only one who truly sees me, both outwardly and inwardly. Not anyone else."

Smiling back, you retort, "So, does that mean I could walk around naked too and....."

Before you even get a chance to finish, Harry cuts you off. "Nope, absolutely not. Not a chance I'll let anyone see you naked. That's for my eyes only."

5.) What started out as a cozy cuddle on the couch while watching a movie, quickly develops into a heated make-out session. The idea that making out is only for teenagers and not for married couples is fundamentally incorrect. You and Harry love making out with one another.

You're situated over Harry, who's lying along the length of the sofa. He's wearing only his underwear, as the plan was to head to bed right after the movie. You, in contrast, are dressed in just a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt.

As the kisses get more and more heated, the more you can feel Harry growing between your legs. Your cunt is aligned directly over his erect cock, resulting in fabulous pressure against your clothed clit. So what do you choose to do? You begin to grind down over the prominent bulge in his briefs.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" Harry groans between kisses.

Lowering your mouth along the scruffy surface of his face, you notice your breathing becoming more intense. "Feels so good, Harry. Your bulge is so big and hard between my legs." You continue to move your hips, appreciating the way his clothed cock presses against your clit as you continue to dry hump his bulge. Your wet patch now seeping through your panties and onto the front of his own underwear.

At first, Harry considers stopping you, thinking to suggest that you just pull him out of his briefs and actually fuck yourself on his dick. However, he becomes captivated with the way you're lost in your own pleasure, moving against him so freely. Therefore, he opts to relax and let you take the lead, letting you do as you please.

After about three minutes of dry humping his enlarged bulge, you pant out in his warm neck, "I'm gonna come, H."

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Come f'me. Come over m'cock. Know it feels so good on your little clit doesn't it?" He strokes your back in a soothing manner and starts to elevate his hips in rhythm with your movements, which have slightly faltered. The extra pressure from his upward grinding pushes you to your peak. You tremble and shake over top of him.

Harry makes a sincere effort to hold back his own orgasm, intending to wait until you've finished and then allow you to get him off in a different way. He's always found the experience of coming in his underwear to be quite an unpleasant feeling, particularly due to the messy cleanup that follows. However, he ultimately can't hold back. As soon as he feels your pussy fluttering over his bulge, he succumbs to his orgasm, resulting in his cum coating the inside fabric of his briefs and pubic hair.

When you both finally calm down, you allow your body to relax over his and say, "God, do I love your bulge. Felt so good."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722

My Masterlist Masterpost

[marsdql]

enhypen members reaction to you being smaller than them? and just like tiny in general

omg yes I love these !!! enha reacting to you being smaller than them ||

— No warnings just teeth rotting fluff — WC: 1.5k

Heeseung —

It had been a long night, Heeseung just finished work and came home alot later than usual. He slowly unlocked the door, trying to not make much noise in case it wakes you up, but to his surprise, you were still awake, waiting for him.

You walked over to the mudroom where he was putting his shoes away, "seungie..." you whisper, rubbing your eyes. "Hey sweetheart, im sorry i came home la-" you cut him off by wrapping your hands around his torso, barely able to fully wrap your arms around him. "hmm.. missed you, ‘wanna sleep, please."

He hugged you back the same way, wrapping his arms around you, just to realise how his arms were overlapping each other due to your small figure. He slightly shakes you from side to side, in awe of the size difference between you to, being able to move you effortlessly in his arms as if he’s completely holding you. “Hee, you’re squeezing me too hard!” you told him. “Can’t help it. You’re just so… tiny” he said giggling.

A few seconds later, he scoups you up and walks towards your shared bedroom. He opens the door to the room and slightly moves the blankets to place you in the bed. “Let’s tuck you in, yeah? Don’t want you to get squished” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Jay —

It had been a long day, and you and Jay were finally settling in for a movie night. He was already lounging on the couch, looking relaxed as he patted the space beside him. You walked over, curling up beside him with the blanket draped over your lap. As the movie started, you found yourself snuggling deeper into his side, your head resting on his shoulder.

Jay laughed lightly as you shifted, realizing just how small you were next to him. His arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders, but as he did, he noticed how his arm nearly covered your entire torso, his hand coming to rest on your upper arm, his fingers almost touching his own wrist. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the size difference.

“You know,” Jay said softly, teasingly, “you’re practically a pocket-sized person.”

You looked up at him, frowning. “I’m not that small, Jay.”

He grinned, adjusting his hold so you were snug against him. “It’s adorable,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “You fit so perfectly here, I can’t help it.”

You snuggled into him further, trying to hide your smile as he casually rocked you side to side. “Stop making fun of me,” you giggled.

Jay just chuckled, his other hand gently brushing your head. “I’m not making fun of you,” he said, his voice affectionate. “I just can’t get enough of how small you are. You’re literally the perfect size for cuddling.”

Jake —

Jake had been busy all afternoon preparing dinner, but when you walked into the kitchen to offer help, he couldn’t help but notice how small you seemed standing in the massive kitchen. You reached for a dish on the top shelf, stretching your arms as far as you could, but just barely unable to grab it.

Jake walked over, his hands lightly resting on your shoulders as he leaned down to grab the dish for you. “Need a hand there?” he asked with a soft laugh, noticing how your arms looked so tiny in comparison to the height of the shelves.

You pouted, rolling your eyes. “I can do it myself, Jake. I just—” But before you could finish your sentence, he scooped you up without warning, holding you in his arms effortlessly.

“Looks like I’ll be doing everything for you then,” he teased, as you playfully swatted his shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” he said, his voice warm. “Otherwise, I might just be annoyed by how small you are.”

You crossed your arms and gave him a mock scowl. “I’m not small. I’m… compact,” you insisted, but Jake only laughed, carrying you over to the counter to help with the rest of the meal.

Sunghoon —

The two of you had just finished a quiet walk in the park, enjoying the cool evening air. As you both strolled back toward the house, you found yourself walking closer to Sunghoon. Your strides were much shorter compared to his, and you couldn’t help but notice how you had to take extra steps just to keep up with him.

You tried to match his pace but soon found yourself falling behind as he noticed the struggle. Without saying a word, Sunghoon turned around and scooped you up in one swift motion, your feet leaving the ground entirely.

You gasped in surprise. “Sunghoon! Put me down!” you protested, though you didn’t really want him to.

But he just smiled down at you, his arms wrapped around you securely. “You were falling behind. Plus, I couldn’t let you walk all that way when you’re so… small.” He teased, his voice light and playful. “It’s like carrying a little doll.”

You huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but secretly enjoying how effortlessly he carried you. “I’m not a doll, Sunghoon,” you said, even though you couldn’t stop your smile from growing.

He chuckled, his grip tightening just a bit as he walked you back to the house. “Well, I think you might be. I just have to be extra careful with you, doll.”

Sunoo —

You were both in the middle of a late-night study session, books spread out all over the table. Sunoo was hunched over his notes, focused on the material, but you couldn’t concentrate. You were too distracted by how small you felt sitting next to him, the desk towering over you. You reached for your notebook, but your arm barely reached across the surface.

Sunoo noticed the struggle, glancing at you with a soft smile. “Need a hand?” he asked, shifting closer to help you, but as he did, he realized just how easily he could move you in your seat. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, almost completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“You’re so small compared to this desk,” he said with a teasing grin. “Do you need a step stool or something?”

You giggled, leaning into him. “I’m not that small,” you protested, though the warmth of his arm around you was comforting.

Sunoo just smiled, his gaze soft as he adjusted your seat and kissed the top of your head. “But don’t worry, I’ll always help you reach whatever you need.”

Jungwon —

Jungwon had always loved reading, and tonight, you two were curled up on the couch with a good book. You sat beside him, but your attention kept wandering. The way you sat, your legs tucked up under you, made it hard to focus, and you found yourself shifting a lot.

Noticing your restlessness, Jungwon closed his book and glanced over at you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, a soft smile on his face.

“I just… can’t get comfy,” you replied, shifting again.

He raised an eyebrow, then effortlessly scooped you up into his lap, adjusting you so that you were tucked comfortably against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, feeling how perfectly you fit there.

“You’re too small for this couch,” Jungwon teased, his voice low and soothing. “But I think you fit perfectly in my arms.”

You snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth and the way he made you feel like you belonged exactly where you were. “I think I could get used to this,” you said, resting your head against his chest.

Jungwon smiled down at you, his hands resting gently on your back. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ni-ki —

You and Ni-ki had been playing around in the living room, laughing and having fun when you tried to leap onto the couch next to him. But as you jumped, you didn’t quite make it, and Ni-ki instantly reached out to catch you, lifting you effortlessly back into his arms.

“Whoa, are you trying to jump into my arms?” he teased, looking down at you with a smirk. “You’re so light, I barely felt you.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I didn’t fall, I just… misjudged the distance,” you said, trying to play it off, but Ni-ki only laughed.

“You really are just a tiny little thing,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “How do you even exist when you’re this small?”

You poked his chest, still in his arms. “I’m not small, Ni-ki. I’m perfectly sized for fun.”

Ni-ki’s eyes lit up with amusement as he spun you around, showing just how easily he could move you. “Well, I can certainly keep you entertained, tiny one.”

[coryndoll]

plot ── tasked with interviewing actor drew starkey about his latest movie, you unintentionally steal the spotlight, leaving him blushing and lost for words under your mesmerizing gaze.

content ── reader being toooo pretty that drew is just like woah, drew being so observant ugh love him, reader not even trying to get his attention at all but ure just so alluring to him

authors note ── yea FUCK my series even tho i made that poll tbh im just so unmotivated. i saw this pic of drew n had some ideas for this lil oneshot of reader interviewing him post-premiere or something and him literally falling in love n reader noticing the little things n he becomes soheart eyes for u omg

you were a little nervous, to say the least. it was supposed to be a one-on-one interview, which somehow felt more intense than group ones with an entire cast. at least in those, the attention wasn’t entirely on you. but now? now it was just you and drew starkey, a handful of questions, and an awkwardly large camera crew standing just out of frame, watching everything. no pressure, right?

your boss had insisted that this interview focus on drew’s performance in his latest film. fair enough, but it also meant no backup—no costar to bounce off of or share the spotlight. it felt intimate in a way you weren’t entirely comfortable with, no matter how many times you’d done this. at the end of the day, it was just you sitting across from a celebrity while everyone else quietly judged your ability to hold a conversation.

you had almost turned this job down when you first started, not because of the nerves (though there were plenty) but because of the sheer vulnerability of it. still, the exposure wasn’t bad, and the paycheck? even better.

as you stepped into the room, clipboard in hand, the tension in your chest tightened just a bit. drew starkey, an actor you were only somewhat familiar with, sat casually in his chair. outer banks, hellraiser, the other zoey—you’d done your homework, skimming through his projects like your career depended on it. because, well, it kind of did. and he was . . . well, better looking in person, if that was even possible. the kind of face that made you forget you had questions to ask in the first place.

meanwhile, drew had been at this for hours. interviews were basically part of the job, but after a while, they all blended together. same questions, same conversations, just with different faces. he was tired but not miserable, holding onto the thought of dinner plans with some friends later that night.

interviews weren’t bad—he liked the connection when it happened, like the guy he was first interviewed by had laughed when he cracked a joke—but there was only so much charm drew could muster after a full day of talking about himself and the same film.

when you walked into the room, he barely glanced up at first. another assistant, probably, or someone from the crew running around to keep things moving. he didn’t pay much attention until you stopped right in front of him, introducing yourself and the network you worked for, arm extended for a handshake.

his gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, he forgot how to move, but he pulled himself together quickly, or at least he hoped it looked that way. he shook your hand, smiling the kind of easy, practiced smile he’d perfected over the years, but there was something a little shaky in his voice when he said, “nice to meet you.”

he sat back down, reminding himself to focus. you were a professional. he was a professional. this was just another interview. but it was hard to ignore the way his heart picked up every time you looked at him like that—focused, curious, maybe even a little nervous yourself. he wasn’t sure what it was about you, but for the first time that day, he couldn’t wait for the next question.

his hand went to his earlobe almost instinctively, a nervous habit he hadn’t really noticed until now. yeah, you were . . . stunning, in the kind of way that made him feel like he should stand up straighter or check his hair. if someone had told him you were a celebrity, he wouldn’t have questioned it. but the fact that you were here to interview him? that just felt unfair.

but the interview was smooth, the kind he’d done a hundred times before. the questions were predictable again, circling around the same themes: his character, the challenges of filming, the energy on set. drew answered easily, slipping into that familiar rhythm, but every so often, his focus wavered—not on the questions, but on you.

you glanced down at your list, scanning it for the next prompt, and then back up at him with those eyes. god, those eyes. drew swore they could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room, even though he knew there were at least ten crew members just beyond the cameras.

he noticed it, though—how bored you seemed, even if you were too professional to let it show. your smile was polite, your tone unwavering, but every now and then, you hesitated just slightly before asking him a question, like you were already tired of the script you’d been given.

and then there was him, barely able to hold eye contact. it was almost embarrassing when he caught himself smiling at you, just a small, almost shy curve of his lips, but it was enough for you to pause, tilting your head slightly as if you were studying him.

"are you okay?" you asked softly, your own lips quirking into a smile that practically knocked the wind out of him.

it was such a simple exchange, but drew could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “yeah. yeah, i’m . . . awesome,” he managed, clearing his throat and looking away for half a second before his eyes found their way back to yours. he had to play it off, had to stay professional, but the way you smiled back at him, like his answer had made your day a little brighter? it felt like a win. still, he reminded himself: there was only so much time left. you were on a clock, and he couldn’t afford to waste it, even if you made it almost too easy to get distracted.

you just laughed, accepting his answer, but the moment lingered. your smile lingered. and the questions rolled on, one after another. nothing groundbreaking, but you kept it light, adding just enough to make it feel like a conversation. drew appreciated that. but eventually, after a particularly shared laugh—he couldn’t even remember what the joke had been—he leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a hint of playful curiosity.

“okay, so what did you think about the movie?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. it caught you off guard; he could tell by the way your posture shifted, your pen stilling over your notes.

and then you started talking.

at first, it was simple—a few observations, some praise for the direction, the performances. but the more you went on, the more animated you became, your voice lifting slightly, your words flowing effortlessly. you dove deep, unraveling moments and emotions from the film like you’d been holding them in since the premiere. drew leaned back, one hand resting against his chin as he watched you, utterly mesmerized.

you talked about the subtlety of his character, how his guarded exterior felt like a shield hiding something raw and vulnerable. you mentioned the tension between the characters—the way their connection felt like a push-and-pull dance neither could fully commit to but couldn’t walk away from either. you dissected the music, the cinematography, how it all wove together like a symphony of yearning and restraint.

and the way you talked about his performance . . .

you didn’t gush, which he appreciated, but your words were thoughtful, specific. you spoke about his quiet expressions, the way he held so much in his body language—the hesitation in his glances, the way his character seemed to pull back just when you thought he’d lean in. it was like you’d been watching with a magnifying glass, picking apart moments even he hadn’t considered.

he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. not just because you liked the movie, though that didn’t hurt, but because it was you. you, sitting across from him, completely unaware of how captivating you looked while tearing apart his work in the best possible way. if someone had asked him to focus on anything other than the way you gestured, your fingers brushing lightly against the edge of your clipboard, or the way your lips curved when you spoke, he would’ve failed miserably.

drew just sat there, watching you, and he couldn’t help but smile. you weren’t just pretty—you were sharp, insightful, and clearly so much more than the routine questions your clipboard suggested.

“you’re good at this,” he said when you finally paused for a breath, and he meant it. but he couldn’t help the slight teasing edge in his tone, the way his smile softened just a little as his eyes met yours again.

[mapiforpresident]

Lovesick 2

Georgia Stanway x reader

Summary: You and Georgia are utterly in love with each other.

part 1

~~~

You scanned the room, balancing your tray in one hand and tugging Georgia by the other toward an open spot at a long table. Keira and Leah were already seated, mid-argument about something entirely trivial, while Lucy, Toone, and Less were laughing about god knows what a couple seats down.

“Here we go,” you said, setting your tray down. Georgia smirked as she dramatically pulled out your chair for you. “For the queen.”

“Such a gentlewoman,” you teased, sitting down before yanking her into the seat beside you. She leaned closer, her voice dropping so only you could hear. “Do I get a reward for this royal treatment later?”

You flushed, glancing around to ensure no one heard her. “Georgia!”

She just laughed, her grin as cheeky as ever, and stole a fry off your plate.

“Oi!” you protested, swatting her hand away.

“What’s yours is mine, baby cakes,” she said with a wink.

Keira groaned from across the table, dropping her fork onto her plate with an exaggerated sigh. “Not this again. Can we have one meal where you two don’t make everyone else feel like third wheels?”

Leah leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Honestly. And can we also ban ‘baby cakes’? It’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Williamson,” Georgia quipped, casually popping another one of your fries into her mouth.

“I’m not jealous. I’m repulsed,” Leah shot back, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

“Sounds like something a jealous person would say,” you teased, leaning against Georgia as she threw an arm around your shoulders.

“Leave her alone,” Keira interjected, pointing her fork at you both. “It’s not her fault her love life is drier than the Sahara.”

The table erupted in laughter, Leah rolling her eyes but unable to hide her grin.

“All right, all right,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender.

As the banter died down, Lucy joined the conversation, discussing the upcoming game. You half-listened, too distracted by Georgia absently tracing patterns on your shoulder with her thumb.

“You good, love?” she asked softly, noticing your distraction.

���Yeah,” you replied, resting your head against her. “Just tired. Training was brutal.”

“You need to start taking it easy. You’re always pushing too hard,” she said, concern flickering in her eyes.

“Pot, meet kettle,” you teased, poking her side. “You’re the one who’s always diving into tackles like it’s a World Cup final.”

“True,” Georgia conceded with a grin. “But I still think you should let me take care of you tonight. Post-training relaxation session?”

Leah groaned audibly. “For the love of football, get a room.”

“We will,” Georgia shot back with a smirk, standing up and tugging you to your feet. “In fact, we’re going right now. Later, losers.”

You barely had time to grab your tray as she led you out of the cafeteria, the sounds of Keira and Leah’s groans of protest following you down the hallway.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Georgia pulled you into a quick kiss, her grin softening as she murmured, “I really do want you to rest, okay? No overdoing it.”

“Fine,” you said with a dramatic sigh, though the warmth in her eyes made your heart flutter. “But only if you join me. Deal?”

“Always,” she promised, lacing her fingers with yours as you headed back to your room.

[purinfelix]

from your last post could i request pedri? from “about you” by the 1975 where perhaps reader and pedri had a past relationship all throughout high school and when pedri left for barcelona they lost contact / broke up but years later they reunite somehow? When they do it’s like a “i thought you’d forget about me by now” to “how could i forget about you?” maybe angst to fluff! sorry that was so long … i hope it made sense lol <33

did you think i'd have forgotten? ✶⋆.˚ - pedri gonzalez

w/c: 600 a/n: this is one of my fav songs of all time so tysm for this (and for giving a specific request HAHA) i got quite a few for this song but i liked this idea the most and thought it fit the best - hope u enjoy anon !! <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

He still looked exactly the same.

Or at least, from what you could make as your train sped past where he was standing on the platform - though you were pretty sure you could still faintly his features, that dark black hair, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he laughed.

It was all exactly the same.

And maybe it was the realisation, that feeling of noticing someone familiar in a place like this - or something deeper within you that you dared not to question - that pushed you to speed off the train at the last minute when this wasn't even your stop. Maybe it was this that made you walk, then jog, then sprint towards what you recognised as his figure in the distance.

But it was also the reminder of what happened between you two, all those years ago, that brought your sprint to a screeching halt. And what would be the chances of you running into your ex-boyfriend here, at a random station, far away from your hometown or the country he had left you to move to? How could you face him, after all that?

"Y/N, is that you?" Too late.

"Pedri?" you called out, your tone confused even though you had made up your mind about it being him long before he had.

"Woah, hi, what are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing," you laugh, a little awkwardly.

"I'm here for a match, we're playing a local team."

"Oh, right," you smile, of course, "I study here."

There's a slight pause, in which you can see Pedri's expression turn into one of surprise. "I didn't know that."

"I mean, why would you?" You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but it's too late since his face is already donning an apologetic look.

"Right, sorry," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at the floor. "What are you studying?" he says after a while of silence.

"Nursing," you say matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you'll be great at that," he says, offering a warm smile.

It's clear he's eager to make this exchange as normal as possible, and you'd probably be obliged to let him. But it's hard to be normal given what happened between the two of you, when this is the first time you've spoken to him in years.

"It's nice to see you," he says after another moment of silence.

"Same for you," you laugh shyly trying to avoid eye contact, "I figured you'd forgotten about me by now."

"How could I forget about you?" When you look into his eyes again, you're taken aback by how well his expression reflects his words - his brows tilted slightly up in the inner corners, a tender confusion at the fact that you'd think he'd dare to forget about you.

"Well, you know with how famous you are and everything, I see how they chant your names when you play," you begin to ramble, eager to explain yourself.

"Well, I'd hardly consider myself fam- wait, you watch my games?"

"Well, yeah," you sigh shyly, feeling your cheeks glow pink at the sight of his smirk. The two of you stand there, looking at each other for a while, exchanging sly glances - and it feels, just for a moment, like you're the same high schoolers who were in a puppy-love relationship.

"Are you doing anything now?" he asks you.

"Well, I was on my way to class but I'm probably late for that now."

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I want you to show me what's good around here," he smiles, "oh, and catch me up on how you're doing."

You feel your cheeks begin to ache from how wide you're smiling.

"I'd like that," you nod, "I'd like that a lot."

[kkayyerr]

Jealous, jealous, jealous.

Summary: Little!reader spending the whole Midsummers playing with JJ and Rafe is feeling neglected.

Warnings: Age regression, slight angst, fluff in the end:)

Rafe took you with him to Midsummers, hoping that both of you would have a great time together, but unfortunately things didn’t go as planned. He was staying aside with his friends, watching you play with JJ for the whole night. Of course Rafe could’ve prevented that by paying you a little bit more attention, but he couldn’t because of how much that event meant for his family and especially for his father. So now he was just standing there and hoping that you would notice him or at least come up to ask for something, but it seemed that you didn’t need him while JJ was there. Rafe didn’t want to be that much of an asshole and pull you away from him since you seemed like you were having a lot of fun. He decided that he would speak about it with you later, in private. 

When the party finally ended, Rafe had grabbed your hand, not even letting you say goodbye to JJ.

„Bye, little one!”

JJ shouted, waving his hand, causing Rafe to send him a warning glare. He’s going to have a little chat with your „friend” later. But for now he headed straight to his room, not even bothering to look at you. You could feel that he was disappointed with you or even angry, but you didn’t know what exactly you did wrong since you had been on your best behavior the whole evening. When he had closed the door, you were ready for him to tell the reason for his behavior, but instead he just silently turned around, probably not knowing what to say. 

 

„Daddy, what happen’?”

 

It was something new—the side that you had never seemed before. What could you possibly have done for him to be this upset with you? You approached him, not touching him yet, just staring, waiting for him to turn around and say at least something. And he did. 

 

„Did you have fun playing with JJ?”

 

His words weren’t harsh; he didn’t seem angry or furious, just... sad? It sounded like an actual question, so your little brain told you to come up with a sincere answer. 

 

„Yeah! He gave me sweets and played with me!“

 

Rafe nodded before you saw something that you thought you would never see him doing. His eyes became watery before he finally teared up. In that moment you knew that you would do whatever it takes to never see that again; it was hurting you worse than any of his punishments or harsh words that he had said to you before. 

 

„Baby, I know that I am not the best at taking care of you, so if you want to leave me, I would understand that and...”

 

He didn’t have a chance to finish. You immediately pulled him into your arms, giving him the biggest hug that you possibly could. You were trying to stay strong and not to start crying yourself, but you failed, letting out a few sniffles.

 

„I love you, Daddy, I don't want another Daddy, I pwomise.”

 

You said, and he finally hugged you back, pulling you closer in his embrace. Those words meant so much to him, especially after all the overthinking that he had going on in his head that night. 

While he was holding you in his arms, he felt you poking his side and let out a small laugh, quickly catching your hand. He titled your head up, gently grabbing your chin with his fingers. Your face still had a string of tears, just like his. 

Oh, you were both such a crybabies.

 

„No, bunny. That’s my method, and you don’t get to use it on me.”

 

He said, before quickly poking your tummy just to make you smile. Rafe then leaned down and kissed your cheeks, not able to hold himself back. He was so happy that you were still his. His sweet little girl. 

 

„Let’s get that fancy dress off of you, and then we’ll go to bed. It’s almost your bedtime.”

 

You nodded, feeling a little tired and overwhelmed from all those new people you had to meet at the Midsummers. Usually it was hard for Rafe to put you in bed, but today you were too sleepy to argue.

 

„Oh, and also...”

 

His gaze met yours, and the small, sly smile appeared on his face for a second before he would say something that he knew you wouldn’t like. 

 

„No sweets for a week.”

 

It wasn’t an actual punishment; he just wanted to have a little revenge on you. Your little pout was adorable to him, especially after everything you put him through tonight. But you didn’t argue with his decision. 

After all, you deserved that, right? 

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @aew-regression-cove @rafecameronsloverrrrr

[bigboigorgeous]

I'm becoming that person

You know the kind. The ones that casually start a tumblr just to like and reblog stuff about gaining. Yeah, I like the belly I've noticed on myself too - but I'm not like these obvious feedees. I have self control. I know how to say no to an extra snack. To stop eating after 8pm. My clothes are tight right now - if I let myself go I'm going to need to buy the next size up in both shirt and pants. So yeah. I got this under control. I have to.

I'm becoming that person. Yeah, I just ate dinner, but I need my dessert right away. A cookie now. Some gummies later. Then a cup of cereal. And 3-4 scoops of peanut butter just before bed. Look, the gaining thing is hot. I've been having fun just feeling good about my fat. Feeling turned on by my fat. Besides, winter is coming. I joke to people that it's 'fat boy fall'. We all gotta store up, right?

I'm becoming that person.

I can't get off unless I'm envisioning myself getting fatter. Sometimes it's a montage over the next year, imagining my soft body through various stages. Various pants sizes. Popped buttons. God, I want to burst out of my clothes with fat. Other times, I imagine a magic force making me gain all at once. I think of overflowing my clothing. When I bend over these days, my love handle stick out. Sometimes I stand up and my shirt goes with me, exposing a sliver of my widening belly. But I can't let it get that far. I buy a funnel from the store down the street. Just for the thrill. I'm not going to use it.

I'm becoming a fat person.

I stare at myself in the mirror and tell myself I don't look that big. I still fit in the same shirts I did a year ago. Well... "fit". They are tighter. The waistband of my jeans rolls over on itself, straining to keep in my widening girth. Girth. People would use that word when thinking about me. I stare at the XL undershirts and size 42 jeans in my online shopping cart. I close out the window. That can't be me. I can't let that be me. Besides... I like how tight my current jeans feel. When I burst the button, then I'll have earned those new jeans.

I am a fat person.

A breakfast bar (200 calories) and a cinnamon roll (400 calories) for breakfast. Pizza (800~ calories) for lunch. Burger and fries (1200 calories) for dinner. Then a constant graze of deserts that I don't keep track of. 2-4 spoonfuls of peanut butter? Wait how many did I have? I was just eating it without thinking. My shirt slides up over my belly as lie down in bed and cum myself to sleep.

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> speed isn't all that matters

word count: 1.6k TW: slightlycold!wonwoo, tiny sliver of angst (we're getting there!), overworking, passing out, FLUFF, comfort italics are interview moments cut between other scenes a/n: second htr! we're starting that landslide into the angst (ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ ) they are so cute in this omgomgomg

Wonwoo sat awkwardly on the pedestal, doing his best to balance while still posing for the camera.

"We had a lot of photoshoots and interviews while touring in Japan." Wonwoo explained to the camera. "Feels like we were posing for photos everywhere."

Wonwoo stood up once the photographer had finished his series of shots. He was tired and couldn't wait to get back to the hotel.

"Wait a moment, Wonwoo." Their manager called out to stop him. "They want a couple shots of you and Cyana."

Wonwoo sighed, nodding as he reluctantly returned to his seat. Cyana walked over, bowing politely to the staff. She stood awkwardly next to Wonwoo, a clear gap between them as she waited for instructions.

"Cyana-yah, can you stand behind Wonwoo?" Their translator smiled kindly as she directed the girl. "Wrap your arms around his shoulders, yes- that's good."

Wonwoo glanced up at the girl, looking away when their eyes met. He couldn't help but stiffen up as they both turned towards the camera. "I thought you went home with the others." He mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, smiling as the photographer clicked away. Most of the members had already finished their photoshoots and gone home.

Cyana's lips quirked down into a suppressed frown. "I stayed back. The car could only take four of us and Seungkwan looked dead on his feet."

"Look this way!" The photographer yelled, cutting off whatever had been Wonwoo's reply.

"Schedules forced Wonwoo to actually talk to me." Cyana couldn't help but grin despite the topic. "It was fun, I guess."

"I've always been a very introverted person." Wonwoo said to the camera, wringing his hands nervously. "I enjoy having time to myself."

Cyana smiled when the interviewer finished talking. "Yeah.. Wonwoo's always been a bit of an enigma to me. Like a mystery I just can't figure out."

Cyana's sitting with Dino in their hotel room, busy eating the lunch they had grabbed from the staff room. They're both mid-bite when the door opens.

"Nana~" Seungkwan walked in, fixing his hat. He was dressed and ready to go out. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Spotting the camera, he waves. "Oh- Hi~ We're going to Super Junior's concert."

Cyana shook her head, still chewing. "It's okay." She managed to say once swallowing. "I think I'm going to stay in today."

Seungkwan nodded, ruffling both her and Dino's hair before leaving. Neither maknae gave any indication they had even noticed the action, continuing to enjoy their meal.

"I'm gonna go to the sauna with Vernon later." Dino told Cyana through muffled chewing. "Do you want to come?"

Cyana made a face. "To the sauna?" She mimed gagging. "No thanks, Chan."

Dino made a face back. "I keep forgetting there are things you can't do that other members can." He smiled when she frowned. "I guess going to the sauna would be a little weird."

"I guess??" Cyana questioned, amazed at his lack of modesty. "A little??"

Dino shrugged. "You're a bro, bro."

"Where on earth did you learn that-" Cyana asked, though she already knew the answer. Vernon. Duh.

Jun and Cyana lazed in bed, Cyana watching Jun's phone from next to him. The girl was half-asleep, eyelids drooping and head lulling against the wall.

Wonwoo walked in, fresh from a shower, double taking when he saw Cyana. Gears turning in his head, he reluctantly slid into his own bed, throwing his blanket over himself.

"What did you do today, Wonwoo?" Jun asked, eyes still focused on the phone. He looked over at Wonwoo before checking on Cyana, smiling to himself when he saw her tired expression.

"I played tennis." Wonwoo answered. "Worked out, went swimming, then ate with the others- what did you guys eat?" He subconsciously said guys, including Cyana into the question. She perked up from Jun's side, suddenly awake.

"I ate with Donghae and Eunhyuk hyung after their concert." Jun replied, nudging Cyana. "What about you?"

"I ate with Dino."

Both boys frowned. "I thought that was your lunch." Jun said, both confused and worried. "You didn't have anything for dinner?"

Cyana paused. "I had some snacks. Not that hungry, since I didn't do much today." She shrugged. "I ate a lot for lunch anyways." Redirecting the topic, she turned to Jun. "Was the concert fun?"

Jun nodded. "It was so much fun." Sitting up straighter, he placed down his phone, fully engaged now. "They speak Japanese so well."

Wonwoo hummed. "We should learn to do that."

"Jeonghan and Hoshi are both great." Cyana sighed. "I think if I have one more language in my head I might combust."

Her quip brought both boys to laughter. "It's okay." Wonwoo said quietly, once the laughter died down. "You can just speak a lot for our North American tours."

"I always had a kind of weak presence, and I never fit in well as a kid." Wonwoo told the camera. "But with Seventeen I didn't get that feeling. They made me feel welcomed, always made me shine without needing to." He paused for a moment, thinking. "They're very important to me- because of that."

"Mingyu once told me Wonwoo cared deeply about his place in the group - he said it might sound selfish but I don't think so." Cyana's eyes were a little sad as she looked at the interviewer. "Mingyu said Wonwoo only has Seventeen. I guess he was just trying to tell me Wonwoo's very protective over the people he loves - and that was the only reason why it felt like he didn't like me." Cyana shrugged. "It made me hate him less."

"Ah. Mingyu told her that?" Wonwoo grimaced once hearing what the interviewer told him about Cyana's interview before him. "I guess he's right. I didn't want Seventeen to break apart because of her." He looked away, embarrassed. "They were my first friends. I only have them."

"What do you mean Dino's ill?"

Cyana stared at a worried Hoshi. "Is it serious?" She asked, verging on panic. It felt like the boys were dropping like flies around her - what with Jeonghan's body decay, DK's sore throat, Seungkwan's ankle, Seungcheol's unstable mind and now Dino.

"He's getting it checked." Hoshi told her, not wanting to worry her further with the details. "You won't do anything - panicking like that."

Cyana took a few breaths, knowing he was right. "You're right. Okay." She let out a deep breath. "He'll be okay."

"On in 3 minutes!" A staff member called from the door.

She stood up, following everyone as they shuffled out towards the stage. Wonwoo stumbled a few paces in front of her, making her look his way.

"You good?" She whispered, speeding up to stand beside him.

He only gave her a curt nod, refusing to look at her and instead focusing on the lift in front of them. They could both hear the cheers from here.

"Go, go!" A staff rushes them both onto the lift before either of them could break the silence. Cyana could only glance at him again as they were lifted up onstage.

She thought she was mistaken when she saw him go down. The area behind the stage was dimly lit, and there was a commotion as the Hiphop Unit finished their stage and came down to switch with the Performance Unit. Cyana thought maybe her eyes were acting up, when she saw Wonwoo run down the stairs, take a few steps and drop.

Staff members were on him in an instant. Cyana was shoved aside as they rushed to lift him, moving him out the walkway and onto a table- it's sole purpose was to serve as a bed in case this very thing happened.

She felt like her limbs were falling her, leaving her frozen in place.

"Go." Mingyu mouthed the words at her, pointing at Wonwoo. He pointed next at the tent, gesturing that he needed to get his mic checked. "Stay with him." He pointed again at Wonwoo.

Cyana willed her legs to move, shuffling over to Wonwoo's side. The crowd of staff had dispersed, leaving him alone with two staff members- one with a fan and one with an oxygen tank.

She took the oxygen tank from one of them and told them she could do it instead.

"Wonwoo." She muttered, lifting the oxygen tank and placing it gently in front of his mouth. His chest rose dangerously fast as he tried to catch his breath. "Breathe." She found only English in her mind as she tried not to panic. "Please breathe."

His eyes darted around until they landed on her face. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, he raised a hand and pushed the oxygen tank weakly away from his face, trying to speak. "What- what's going on." He panted out, his speech slightly slurred.

Cyana felt her heart crack. "Don't try to talk." She reprimanded him, gently pushing him back down to rest. "You passed out."

If Wonwoo could breathe, he would've snapped at her to leave him alone, that he could take care of himself. He couldn't. Instead, he closed his eyes, allowing her to take care of him. Just this once.

"She was gentle with me." Wonwoo recalled. "Even though I hadn't been kind to her."

"Breathe." She mumbled again, mindlessly repeating it as her brain turned numb from everything going on. She stayed next to him, raising the oxygen tank to his lips whenever his lungs failed to do the job. "It's okay."

"She stayed throughout the whole thing." Wonwoo looked sheepishly at the camera. "I don't think I even said 'thank you.' We just returned on stage."

Cyana shrugged at the interviewer's question. "He didn't need to say anything. Sometimes words fail us - his eyes said enough."

[vodika-vibes]

omg I can absolutely request something for kix, literally I'll take anything i love him so much

i'm not too fussy but maybe something hurt/comfort vibes with non-established relationship? if that takes your fancy, can be sfw or nsfw however it works out

love your writing sm :)

Watching Over You

Summary: ou know that Kix is “dealing” with his new truth by not dealing with it, and you know it’s only a matter of time before he falls apart. You’ll be there for him, until he no longer needs you.

Pairing: Pre Pirate!Kix x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1113

Warnings: Kix is straight up not having a good time.

A/N: So, this could be seen as platonic or pre-romantic, but I'm happy with it, but that might just be because it's Kix. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Alright, we’re all set,” You say as you step out of the shop while tugging your new gloves over your hands, “You sure you don’t need anything while we’re here?”

“From Nar Shaddaa?” Kix asks, as he tears his gaze away from a stall selling, probably stolen, speeders. “Hard pass. How do you know those are going to be any good?”

“Leather gloves are leather gloves, babe.” You counter as you hold your, now glove-covered, hands in front of your face, “They don’t need to be the best leather gloves in the galaxy, they just need to be able to protect my hands from the cold.”

Kix huffs, “You should let me run some blood tests. There’s no reason for you to be cold all of the time–”

“Hard pass, Doc.” You counter, “If I’m dying from some blood disease, I don’t want to know.”

Kix sighs again, and finally focuses his attention on you, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet still so adorable.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Thanks! I will.”

He shoots you a look, and you grin at him, “Come on, Kix. Let’s get out of here before the Hutts take offense at our presence.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He falls into step next to you, while you chatter his ear off about anything and everything that crosses your mind.

In the almost year that you’ve known, and traveled, with Kix, you’ve learned that he doesn’t like quiet. When there’s too much quiet he gets lost in his own mind, and starts spiraling.

And so, you fill the silence with stories, with mindless chatter, with music or movies or shows. Anything and everything you can do to make his suffering a little easier, you will do.

Honestly, you’ve never spoken so much in your life as you have in the past year.

You stop mid-sentence, when you glance to the side and realize that Kix is no longer walking with you. Quickly, you scan the crowd around you, and you quickly find him.

At first, you’re not sure what caught his attention, but as you approach him, you see what his gaze is locked on, and your heart sinks. He’s standing in front of an electronics store. An electronics store that has a massive holo showing a documentary about Darth Vader and his 501st.

Your jaw clenches and you slowly exhale, before you move to his side and wrap your arms around his arm, “Kix.” You keep your gaze on his face, on the pained, almost lost, expression that he wears when he’s lost in the past, “It’s time to go.”

He doesn’t react to your voice, but he also doesn’t stop you when you start tugging him away from the shop. And he doesn’t fight you when you walk him back to the spaceport and back to your ship.

In fact, in spite of your chatter, Kix is completely silent. 

He doesn’t say anything until you’re back on your ship. “Hey, can we wait a bit before we take off?”

You watch him for a moment, “Why?”

“I’d like a proper shower, and the water shower doesn’t work properly in space.” Kix replies.

“Mm, yeah. Okay.”

You pretend that you don’t notice him grabbing the portable holo as he heads into the fresher, and half an hour later, when you hear a quiet sob from the fresher, you turn on some music so he can have some privacy.

There’s no way for you to understand his grief.

Kix once had 2 million brothers…and now he’s alone in the galaxy. Only, he’s not alone, he has you, and he’ll continue to have you until he no longer needs you. And even then, you’ll stick around until he tells you to leave.

Personal loyalty to your friends has always been your fatal flaw, according to your old school teachers.

When he finally emerges from the fresher, his eyes are red and he looks exhausted. Bone deep exhausted.

You watch him for a moment, and then you sigh, “Kix,”

He glances at you, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not okay, Kix. And that’s okay.” You set the bowl that you were using to make some meatballs on the counter and walk over to him to take his hands in yours, “I...have given you your space, but maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Listen, you don’t have to do this.”

You squeeze his hands, “Yes, I do. I…cannot even begin to understand the kind of loss that you suffered. I can’t. No one can. But you’re not alone in this.”

“My whole family is dead, cyare.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone.” You counter, “I will be here for you, for as long as you accept it. And probably longer.”

He stares at you, and then he sighs and drops his cheek on the top of your head while hooking his arms around your waist, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong about that too, but I can be patient with you.”

The pair of you don’t say anything for a while, “What are you making?”

“Meatballs. We’re having pasta for dinner. With homemade noodles.”

“Huh. Have you made the dough yet?”

You smile at him, “Nope, I know you like that part. The ingredients are in the fridge.”

Later, as he’s kneading the dough while you sing along to the radio and form meatballs, he turns down the music and glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s up?” You ask, without looking at him.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Whatever you need, Kix. You just need to ask.” You reply, turning to look at him with a fond smile on your face.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “Also…?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think you can put me in contact with Luke Skywalker? I’d like to get to know him…and maybe share some stories about his dad.”

“Mm, I don’t know if I can get you in contact with Master Skywalker, but I can probably get you in contact with General Organa-Solo.” You reply lightly, “She might be able to get you in touch with Master Skywalker.”

“...thanks, cyare.”

“Like I said, Kix. Whatever you need. For however long you need it.”

The pair of you go back to your respective projects and as you finish forming the last meatball and pull your food prep gloves off, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, “Thank you.”

You grin at him and thread your fingers with his to give his hand a squeeze, “No worries, Kix. I’ll watch over you until you’re ready to look after yourself. And then I’ll keep doing it. That’s what I do.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[pawpaws-paralegal]

This projected such a vivid image into my mind that I had to write it:

“I’m almost to twenty-five patches now. If I get thirty by the end of the year I get to be a level three Green Scout, so I really need to get more patches,” Bev mused, perusing the Green Scout handbook from the floor of his bedroom.

“That’s so cool, dude. I just got to level two and you’re already ahead of me,” Erlin responded from Bev’s telescope.

“I know you’ll get there soon. We’ll work together to get a ton of patches at the Jamboreen,” Bev said, still looking through the boo. As his eyes passed over one of the patches, he frowned.

“What’s that one? Scoutmaster Denny hasn’t told us about it.”

“I don’t know dude. I think Egwene has that one, but she didn’t tell me what it is.”

Beverly frowned further.

The next day at school, he ran up to Egwene brandishing his handbook. “Egwene! Hi! What’s this patch? Erlin told me you have it.”

She looked at him like he was crazy (even more crazy than usual). “Um, that’s a pride patch? For, like, when you’re gay?”

“What’s gay?” Beverly asked, innocent as can be.

Egwene usually had a quick retort in situations like this, but the kid’s honest, wide-eyed naïveté caught her completely off guard. “It’s like, when you’re a boy and like boys, or a girl and like girls, or like both boys and girls.”

“I like boys. Does that mean I get that patch?”

Egwene pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I mean, like, want to kiss. Now let me go, doofus.”

As she walked away, she could see the wheels in Bev’s head turning. She chose not to ponder the implications of that interaction.

Later on, as Bev and Erlin were walking to the green teens meeting, Bev turned to Erlin. “I know how to get the rainbow patch we saw yesterday. Egwene told me.”

“Really, dude?” Erlin replied, eyes lighting up. “How?”

“I have to kiss you and that means I’m gay and can get the patch,” Beverly replied matter-of-factly. “I think you can get the patch too then, if you also kiss me.”

Erlin stopped. “Dude. What?”

Beverly also stopped. “If we kiss, we both get patches. And I know Cran doesn’t have this one, so we’d even be ahead of her.” He paused. “Can I kiss you? You know, for the patch?”

Erlin was still standing there, stupefied. “Uh. Sure, dude? I guess?”

Beverly put his hands on his hips, surveying Erlin. Then, quickly, he stepped forward and pecked Erlin on the mouth. He then turned and ran towards Scoutmaster Denny, who was walking a little down the road, shouting, “Scoutmaster Denny! I kissed Erlin! Can I get the gay patch now?”

Later that night at dinner, Bev noticed his parents are looking at each other, then at him, then back at each other a lot. His mom whispered something to his dad, and then his dad sighed. “So, kid. I heard you got a new patch today?” he asked, in a tone that indicated he felt very awkward having this conversation.

Beverly, thankfully, did not pick up on this tone at all, and kept shoveling his green beans into his mouth. “Yeah. I kissed Erlin and got a new patch, so I’m even closer to level three!”

Beverly Sr. nearly choked. “And, uh,” he asked between coughs, “do you want to kiss boys? Other than to get the patch?”

Beverly stopped, looked pensively into his green beans, and thought for a second. He looked up, responding. “Maybe. I think yeah if it’s Erlin.” And without a second thought and without noticing his parents’ dumbfounded expressions, he finished his green beans.

The next Green Scouts meeting, Beverly noticed Erlin wearing the rainbow patch too.

i like when people give bev's sash a little pride flag patch partly because it's cute and partly because it could imply the green teens organization has a Being Gay Patch which would be really funny since bev was a patch completionist early on

[pleasantinternetperson]

In the end, he's always drawn back to her.

---

The aftermath of the battle is terrible.

There are bodies littered everywhere, glassy-eyed and unseeing.

And he is nos stranger to it, to the terrible presence of death, but it-

It still hurts.

---

Vi's screams will haunt him to his dying day.

Her grief is so raw and angry he has to look away, and the words that spill from her lips over and over as she clutches at the ledge are ones he has thought countless times.

It's not fair it's not fair IT'S NOT FAIR-

He knows what happened.

(She's-)

(How-)

(How can she be-)

(After everything-)

(Just like that?)

---

Ekko is the one who hauls Vi to safety before the beam collapses.

She's quiet. Numb, he thinks.

A part of him wants to stay with her.

But he can't. He can't stay here another second or he's sure he won't be able to take one more breath.

(She's really gone-?)

(Jinx?)

(...Powder?)

---

For the first time in his life, the undercity is quiet.

He doesn't even notice, not really, until much later.

He walks through the streets and sees everything Zaun could've been.

He sees Mylo and Claggor in the shadowed corners of their old haunts.

He sees Vi teaching him how to throw a punch in every crack of a wall.

He sees Benzo in the window of every run-down shop of wares.

He sees Vander in the wreckage of The Last Drop.

And everywhere, everywhere, he looks, he sees her.

---

He doesn't know how many times he stops her from detonating the bomb.

Her eyes look so empty.

And it breaks him inside that this girl who used to be so full of life wanted nothing more to do with it after the world took everything from her.

She has caused so much pain and suffering, has continued the cycle of violence by those left before them.

She's well within her rights to want to leave.

But he knows for a fact there's a life where things could be better.

There's a life out there where Zaun thrives because of her.

There's a life where she's happy.

And he'll be damned if he can't make that life a reality, no matter how many times he needs to turn back the clock.

She traces the edge of her bomb, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Just let me die."

He stands.

Her grip tightens.

"No."

She scoffs, though there's no real heat to it.

"Why do you care?"

Because he doesn't want this to be the end for her. Because he knows she can do so much more. Because even under all the anger and pain and grief that makes her now, there's still a chance for her to be that girl from another world.

Because he might just have fallen in love with her.

But most of all-

"Because you're worth saving."

---

He ends up making a mural for her in her workshop. There are many that pop up all over the undercity once the news gets around but...

This one is for him.

To remember her not as the tragic hero who managed to unite Zaun, but for his friend who died.

(He could've saved her.)

The Z-Drive looks up at him darkly whenever this thought comes over him, and his fingers twitch over the dials.

But he doesn't do it.

He sees Heimerdinger's face every time he does.

---

Vi comes to see the mural.

He lights flickering candles and has some of her leftover bits and bobs all over the place - a monkey head here and an old tool there.

He's drawn pictures of her from when they were young, from when they grew apart and puts on paper what he imagined she would've looked like older.

And tucked away in a small corner is the drawing of what she looked like in that other world.

That's the one that draws her sister's attention.

Vi's fingers ghost over the pencil lines, almost reverent.

"...I would've loved to see her like this."

Ekko sighs, not looking at her as he runs a hand through his hair.

His eyes land on a drawing of Powder and Vi, arms looped around each other, young and bright-eyed and joyous.

"Yeah. You would've."

---

Another part of him died with her, he thinks.

Because he knows that grief never really goes away.

It leaves him gasping for air at night and reaching for someone who isn't there when his own mind taunts him with all the what-ifs, and could've been.

Sometimes it leaves him with the memory of her lips pressing against his own, her fingers on the side his face gently.

He hates those ones most.

---

(But really, he'd give anything for the chance to do it again.)

---

What gets to him the most is that he could've saved everybody.

If he had been smarter, of he had figured out faster none of this would've happened.

And the thought crashes into him so hard and fast sometimes, and leaves him with a rage that makes him want to hit anything in sight it makes him sick to his stomach he almost destroys her mural.

He yells and screams and grieves for everyone he's lost, this boy saviour who took the world upon his shoulders.

And at the last second, just as he has his weapon ready to ruin everything, realization rushes through him and he falls to his knees.

She looks at him through the drawings, frozen and smiling.

Finally, he sobs.

I could've saved you.

---

It gets better. Eventually.

He helps with clean-up efforts in the undercity, travels up topside on occasion when Vi needs a hand with something, but sticks to himself for the most part.

While he's helping clear another fallen building a pair of kids bump into him. They're young, and only laugh for a second at their mishap before rushing off again.

He hopes they can live like that for the rest of their childhood.

He wants to make sure they can.

---

It takes a while before he goes up to the rooftop. Their rooftop.

When the grief isn't a raging, alive thing inside his chest anymore and settles deep inside of him instead.

He takes a seat in the edge, and lets his leg dangle in the air.

He breathes in.

(I could've saved you.)

It's recurring thought, now. Always in the back of his mind.

(I could've saved you.)

In another world, there was a happy ending. He hopes.

In another world, there isn't years of resentment and death and violence between them.

In another world he takes her to a party where they dance their hearts out and have the time of their lives.

In another world, they are sitting up here, and he kisses her first.

(I could've saved you.)

Ekko breathes out.

He lets the thought go.

(I'm sorry I couldn't save you.)

(I wanted to.)

(I really did.)

He hopes that wherever she is now she's happy. Or simply at peace, and able to rest from the life she's had.

And something in him feels a little bit lighter.

---

Later, when he gets back to the workshop, something catches his eye near the mural.

A piece of paper, gently blowing in the wind, trapped under a rock.

It's curiosity, more than anything, that leads him to pick it up. It seems too deliberately placed.

Unfolding it, Ekko keeps an eye on his surroundings in case this is somebody's idea of a trap, one hand around his weapon.

Then his heart drops.

It's a map.

And there are bright, colourful lines, squiggles, doodles-

A marked 'X' not too far beyond Piltover, and a message written beside it in haphazard fashion.

(It-)

(It can't-)

(She's-)

(Is she-?)

(Jinx-)

(...Powder?)

You gonna pay me a visit, boy saviour?

[yuukei-yikes]

yuukei quartet nightmare blunt rotation

i think theyd have a great time. except shintaro but who cares

[taliskermortem]

honestly I’m pretty pissed off about that preview like they couldn’t even give us one nice week after finding out seongho left the message for junseong

[capyclub]

.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (gym owner+ your personal trainer Simon)

Simon notices you the moment you step into the gym. nervous, pretty, looked entirely out of place. He greets you with a nod and a gruff “Hello” when you saunter to the counter and look up at him timidly. Gleaming doe eyes meeting his and a bit intimidated by his presence.

“I want…want to sign up for the course…” your voice comes out soft and quiet, still a bit scared by the wall of man in front of you. His lips curl upward slightly, though his schedule is pretty tight already, but he doesn’t mind squeezing time out just for a cute and beautiful girl like you.

“The only time I’m free now is 21:00.” Simon said, asking if you’re okay with it, and you agree without a doubt. This is the gym closest to your place, and has the highest rating among others, you don’t mind if the session will start a bit later in the night.

He’s a great personal trainer, like the what the comments say on the internet. He’s meticulous, knows how to effectively improve your stance. You’re not sure if it’s normal for personal trainers to stand this close when you’re squatting, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck. maybe he just wants to make sure you won’t accidentally hurt yourself, you think to yourself after few sessions with him.

Simon can’t forget the first session, you step into the gym with the sports bra and gym shorts, hair tied into a high bun that shows off your flawless neck, he wonders how smooth it will feel when he runs his fingers along it. His chest touches your rear when you’re lifting weights, “In case your grip slips.” He tells you when he sees the confusion in your eyes. His eyes glued on your hips when you just finished few reps of lying leg curls, ass cheeks so nice and supple, you breathe a bit fast as you keep lying on the training machine, unaware of him try not to form a boner from ogling at your moist lips and the contours of your body.

You’re a bit frustrated with the progress you made so far, asking him if you’re not working hard enough. Your slight pout is too adorable, and he resists the urge not to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re doing alright, give your body some time to build muscles.” Simon reassures you, but he can still see the chagrin on your face. You’re stressed out, he can tell, and as your personal trainer, it’s his job to help his student unwind, yeah?

The disappointment and anxiety are thrown to the back of your mind when he sits on the bench in front of the mirror, two fingers deep inside you, twirling and pressing the gooey spots with you moaning on his lap.

“Look at the mirror, sweetheart, look how beautiful you look when your little pussy’s swallowing my fingers.” His other hand move to your chin, turn your head towards the mirror. You can see his smug smile even with that disposable mask on, his fingers shoved deep into your cunt, bring out your profuse juices when he drags his fingers out. The scene is too embarrassing, your cheeks flush with arousal and shyness when you shift your gaze away from the mirror.

“Look at the mirror, love.” His tongue clicks twice, tone firm without any space for you to reject, so you obediently look back, let out a high-pitched sweet whine as you watch how his cock sinks into your tight cunt, pussy lips pushed aside to fit his fat cock. “Fucking pussy so tight, so perfect…fuck…” He inhales deeply, landing a soft swat on your bum and makes you yelp at the comfortable sting.

He definitely didn’t choose to schedule your session this late, that no one will be in gym except you two, so he can bend you over every surfaces here and fuck you till you squirt all over the nearest wall. His hips never cease, shows you how much stamina and strength he has as the best personal trainer. Pinning you over the machine you did lying leg curls, the angle of the it allows your ass to arch up and let him drive his pierced cock deeper, each piercings knead and glide through your spots one by one every time he slams his hips back.

When your thighs’ twitching even harder than they were after your leg days, you looking up at him with dazed eyes, entirely blissed out from how many mind blowing orgasms he gave you, Simon lifts you up again, easily maneuver you to hook your knees over his elbows, he pushes his cum-drenched dick inside again, still rock hard and ready to wrench yet another release from your heavenly cunny. He walks you to the mirror again, every steps makes his hips bucks and cock thrust up in the force, and all you can do is moan and whimper. “too much, too much Simon…”

But He only huffs out a laughter at your words while he stops in front of the mirror, giving you the full view to the reflection—your fucked dumb expression, thighs spread widely and supported by his strong arms, pussy swollen and clit peaks out from the folds, yet your tight walls still massaging his cock nicely as if you’re trying to please him.

“So perfect, princess. look just right when you’re in my arms.” Simon presses a kiss to your shoulder, adjust his grip and let your weight help him to reach the deepest, the tip of his shaft rest against your cervix. “Let’s have the next round on the leg press machine, yeah? I know you hate doing leg press the most, maybe you’ll be more pliant the next time, because you know how I’ll make you soak that seat after the session ends, hmm?”

[rafecameronssl4t]

hey! could u do a rafe x reader with kinda the grumpy and sunshine/ mean to everyone but me trope? like the reader is super girly and a total sweetheart like wouldn’t hurt a fly and no one expected rafe to be able to pull her? maybe like other guys have made moves on her but for some reason she only wants him

Untouchable || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!!!! (the gif above is what I envision Rafe's appearance to be in this fic)

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,178

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Oh look, Rafe's here," Chelsea leans in to whisper to all of you girls. All heads turn to where she is subtly pointing. Rafe Cameron, with his buzzed hair and brooding expression, strides through the country club, his presence commanding attention.

You can't help but notice how your friends’ eyes widen, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Kaycee sighs, shaking her head. "It's such a shame he's so grumpy and mean all the time. He's good-looking, but that attitude just ruins everything."

A few of the girls agree with her words, their eyes still on Rafe. You're about to respond when you catch Rafe’s gaze from across the club. His intense blue eyes lock onto yours, and to your surprise, he starts walking toward your table. Your friends' chatter fades into the background as he approaches, and you can feel the tension rising.

"Guys?" Kaycee whisper yells, her eyes darting nervously between you and Rafe. Before you can answer, Rafe is standing beside you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close.

Your friends silently watch as he plants a soft kiss on your lips. The world seems to pause for a moment, the only sound your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smile that’s reserved just for you. "Hey, babe," he says, his voice low and intimate. You smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Hey, Rafe."

Your friends are staring, their mouths open in shock. Kaycee looks like she might faint, and Chelsea's eyes are so wide they might pop out of her head. You can practically hear their thoughts racing. "Hi ladies," Rafe nods his head to your friends as they all stumble across a response.

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the reaction. "I'll see you later yeah?" he murmurs as you hum in response, giving you one last squeeze before heading to his own table. As he walks away, your friends erupt into a flurry of whispers and exclamations. "Are you serious?" Lily asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. "You and Rafe Cameron?"

You shrug, attempting to play it cool but failing miserably. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a while now." Kaycee shakes her head, still in shock. "I can't believe you didn't tell us! All this time, we thought you were just committed to your single streak."

Jada's eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "Not gonna lie, I've been rooting for you two since our days at Kook Academy." You laugh. Across the club, you see Rafe sitting with his friends, who are equally stunned by what they just saw. They keep glancing over at you, clearly trying to piece together how their friend who was notorious for not doing relationships end up with you.

Rafe catches your eye and gives you a wink, his usual grumpiness replaced with a rare, genuine smile as you smile back.

~

As Rafe walks away from your table, the whispers and gasps of your friends gradually fade into the background. You watch him stride confidently across the pool area, his usual brooding expression softened by a small, private smile. He reaches his table, where his friends are already in various states of shock and confusion.

Kelce is the first to speak, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Dude, what was that?" He leans forward, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're telling me you bagged Y/n Y/l/n?"

Rafe drops into his seat and picks up his drink, taking a long sip before answering. "Yeah, we’ve been together for a while now." His tone is casual, but you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he lets the news sink in.

Topper, who has been silent until now, finally finds his voice. "How the hell did that happen?" he asks, still staring at Rafe as if he's grown a second head. "She’s turned down just about everyone on this island who’s tried, and that includes me!"

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention. "That's just cause you guys aren't me" he says with a cocky smirk. "Or maybe I just didn’t give up." The table falls silent for a moment as his friends process this new information. Then, one by one, they start to bombard him with questions.

"How long have you been seeing her?" asks Kelce, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "Why didn’t you tell us?" adds Topper, his tone a mix of hurt and curiosity. "And how did you even get her to go out with you?" another friend chimes in.

Rafe leans back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed and confident. "We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now," he begins, glancing over at you with a soft smile. "I didn’t tell you guys because we wanted to keep it private. Didn’t want everyone in our business, you know?"

Topper raises an eyebrow. "And how did you manage to win her over? She’s not exactly known for giving people a chance." Rafe laughs, a deep, genuine sound that surprises even himself. "Honestly, it wasn’t that hard," he admits with a grin.

"I had my eyes on her for a while. She’s smart and doesn’t put up with any bullshit. 'S what I like about her." He glances over at you again, mesmerised by how radiant you looked, giggling at something your friend said.

His friends exchange looks, a mix of admiration and incredulity on their faces. It’s clear they’re seeing a side of Rafe they never knew existed. "Wow, man," says Kelce, shaking his head with a grin. "I never thought I’d see the day when Rafe Cameron is all soft and in love." Rafe playfully rolls his eyes, "You guys are idiots."

Topper claps Rafe on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Good for you, dude. Seriously. If anyone can handle your grumpy ass, it’s her." Rafe laughs again, the sound blending into the ambient noise of the country club. He glances back over at you, catching your eye once more. You smile at him, a warmth spreading through your chest as you see the genuine happiness in his eyes.