#sometimes there are things you don’t know and that’s okay

[iamgonnagetyouback]

james potter x cat animagus!reader who he picks up thinking as stray and lets in on a secret

James Potter was the kind of guy who could never ignore a creature in need, so when he found a little brown cat loitering around the Quidditch pitch during practice, his heart melted instantly. "Poor thing," he murmured, crouching down. “You’re probably cold and starving. Don’t worry, mate—I’ve got you.”

Before you could react, you were being scooped up in his strong arms. Not that you minded, really.

James carried you straight to the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory, setting you on his bed with all the care of a proud parent. “There you go. Home sweet home.”

You blinked at him, tail twitching in mild amusement.

“Right,” he said, flopping onto the bed beside you. “Let’s establish some ground rules. No scratching the furniture. No biting Sirius—actually, scratch that, feel free to bite Sirius. And no stealing my socks, got it?”

You gave him the look—your signature, unimpressed really, James? glare.

James narrowed his eyes at you. “Weird. You’ve got this very… familiar judgmental vibe. Kind of like—nah. I’m imagining it.” He grinned. “Anyway, since you’re new here and seem chill, I’ll let you in on a secret.”

You tilted your head, heart thumping nervously.

James puffed out his chest dramatically. “I’ve got a girlfriend.”

You twitched your ears.

“She’s amazing. Funny, smart, gorgeous.” He laughed, leaning back on the bed. “But Merlin, she’s terrifying sometimes. But, you know, in a hot way. Like, I kind of like it when she yells at me.”

You swished your tail sharply, earning a startled laugh from him.

“Oi, don’t judge! You don’t know what it’s like to be loved by a goddess,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “She’s got this look—like, when I say something dumb, she just stares at me. Kinda like the look you’re giving me right now.”

Your tail lashed harder, but James carried on, oblivious as he scratched the back of his neck. “Anyway, she’s amazing. Except sometimes, she’s so bossy. Always telling me to do my homework, stop sneaking chocolate into the library, quit messing up my hair—”

You hissed softly, and James blinked. “What? I’m just saying it’s endearing. Don’t get your whiskers in a twist.” He leaned in, narrowing his eyes.

“And the sass! She’s so sassy. Honestly, sometimes I think she loves making me squirm.” He sighed dreamily, resting his chin in his hands. “What a woman. You’d like her. Or maybe not. She’d probably call you ‘scruffy’ or something. Wait—you’re scruffy and judgy. Are you sure you’re not her Animagus form?”

You froze.

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “She’d have told me. I mean, I told her I’m a stag! She’s even touched my antlers. I think she’s got a thing for them, but she denies it. So, yeah, she’d totally tell me if she were a cat.”

You stared at him, doing your best to suppress a laugh.

The next day, the game was up.

“Wouldn’t want to be too bossy, now would I?” you said sharply, glaring at James in the common room.

James stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. “What?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head like a wet dog. “No way. How do you—what—how do you know that?”

You just smirked.

James clutched his hair like a man on the verge of a breakdown. “Wait. Wait. Okay, no. There’s an explanation. Did Sirius tell you? No—he doesn’t even listen when I talk. Did Remus overhear and snitch? No, he’d lecture me about boundaries. Did… did you talk to the cat?!”

You snorted. “What?”

“Do you speak cat language?!” James demanded, looking genuinely alarmed. “Oh, Merlin, are you part Kneazle?!”

“James—”

“Or—or did you use Legilimency on the cat?!” He gasped, his hands flying to his hair. “Were you watching me somehow? Are you spying on me?!”

“James—”

“Oh my god.” His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes wild with panic. “You’re in cahoots with the cat, aren’t you?”

“James!”

He flailed dramatically. “Are you secret friends with a magical talking cat?”

“James Fleamont Potter!”

“What?!”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “I was the cat, you idiot.”

James blinked. Once. Twice. Then he pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You WHAT?!”

“I’m an Animagus,” you said, shrugging.

James stared at you like you’d just told him you were the heir of Merlin. “No. No way. You’re lying. You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

You shrugged again. “Sorry, love. Not joking.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “I LET YOU SLEEP IN MY BED.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

“I SCRATCHED BEHIND YOUR EARS.”

“Very kind of you.”

“I TOLD YOU MY SECRETS!”

“Well, you did think I was a stray.”

James stumbled backward, clutching at the table for support. “I—I let you see me in my pajamas! I let you cuddle with me! I—oh my god, I called you soft and—wait—” He glared at you, realization dawning. “You hissed at me when I called you bossy!”

You grinned. “Sure did.”

“And you glared at me! That was your glare! Oh, bloody hell, I should’ve known.” He groaned, collapsing onto the bed. “This is so embarrassing. Why didn’t you tell me?!”

You plopped down beside him, smirking. “I wanted to see how long it’d take you to figure it out.”

James buried his face in his hands. “I let you TOUCH MY ANTLERS.”

“And they’re very nice antlers,” you teased, poking his side.

He peeked at you through his fingers, pouting. “This is betrayal, you know. Pure betrayal.”

“James.”

“Nope. Betrayal.”

“James.”

He groaned. “Fine. But you owe me so much cuddling to make up for this.”

“Deal,” you said, pulling him into a hug.

“Wait,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “You do think my antlers are cool, right?”

You kissed his cheek. “The coolest, love.”

“Thought so.”

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 6 – The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad

I will preface this entry with an acknowledgement to my father. He is the most intelligent, quick-witted, and level-headed person I know. He’s also a bit of a bitch and tends to be blatantly honest. Sometimes that honesty hurts but it’s also nice to know he’s the one person in this world who won’t feed me a line of bullshit. He is also the best friend we all need.

On October 16, my father called me – like he does almost every day – to chat about, like usual, absolutely nothing. But, on this day, I was quite distracted (because the Time article about Nicola had just come out), which he called me out on almost immediately. Our conversation went something along the lines of:

Dad: “I can tell you’re not paying attention to me.”

Me: “Oh, I’m just reading an article that came out today. Actually, can I ask you a question about it?”

Dad: “Sure.”

Me: “I just want to read something to you, and I want you to tell me what you think this person is saying.”

Dad: “Okay.”

I then proceeded to read him verbatim the snippet from the Times article where Nicola talks about her relationship with Luke.

Me: “What do you think she is saying?”

Dad: “That this person is her best friend, and she thinks very highly of them.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Dad: “Why?”

Well, he opened the door so I gave him the backstory. I explained who Nicola and Luke were. I explained Bridgerton. I explained their chemistry during the World Tour. During this 15-or-so-minute conversation, my father took to renaming Nicola “Ireland” and Luke “Thang,” because that’s how he remembers things. Then I brought up the Claddagh ring.

Dad: “Wait. Stop – STOP! – STOP!! I said STOP TALKING! Why didn’t you lead off with this ring? I change my answer. She’s saying she’s in love with this guy!”

Me: “What?”

Dad: “Whatever you read earlier – I change my answer. She’s not saying they’re best friends. She’s saying she’s in love with him.”

Me: “Are you being legit?”

Dad: “Absolutely! Now, go back to the beginning because Ireland and Thang are a thing.”

Welcome aboard the USS Lukola, Daddy.

Recently, this conversation with my father got me thinking about how naïve I have been in believing all Lukolas were aware of the significance of Nicola’s Claddagh. I mean, surely, most of us know the term and meaning of “ring truther,” right?

Maybe not.

I’ve always chucked the Jakolas and A-holes up to be Conscientiously Stupid about the ring – disregarding it because it didn’t fit their narrative. But, shit, maybe they just don’t understand the Holy Grail of the Lukola fandom. So, I figured today, I’d dedicate my entry to explaining the ring to those who have no fucking clue what we mean when we say, “we’ll die on that ring!”

If you don’t want a history lesson or my opinion on the significance of the ring, you can move along and wait for my next post. Otherwise, happy reading. Actually, it’s a rather dull read – but informative. You may just need some caffeine to keep your focus up.

GENERAL HISTORY:

The Claddagh originates from Galway – yes, Nicola’s hometown in Ireland – and has been around for over 400 years. The ring typically shows two hands holding a heart which wears a crown, with the hands symbolizing friendship, the heart signifying love, and the crown representing loyalty.

The way a person wears their Claddagh traditionally signifies their relationship status.

On the RIGHT hand, with the HEART FACING OUTWARD away from your body (and towards your fingertips) means you are single, i.e, your heart is available for love.

On the RIGHT hand, with the HEART FACING INWARD towards your body (and towards the back of your hand), suggests you are in a committed relationship, i.e., your heart is taken.

On the LEFT hand, with the HEART FACING OUTWARD away from your body (and towards your fingertips) means you are engaged.

On the LEFT hand, with the HEART FACING INWARD towards your body (and towards the back of your hand), suggests you are married.

This is not gospel so please do not finish reading this post and start running around in circles, jumping up and down, exclaiming Nicola is married.

NICOLA’S CLADDAGH:

In June, Chupi announced it had designed and created a Claddagh for Nicola and noted “Nicola reached out to Chupi recently and requested a bespoke Claddagh Ring to celebrate the third season of Bridgerton.” Nicola’s ring was custom-made and differs from virtually all other Claddagh rings in that the hands of the ring also display rings of their own.

After creating the ring for Nicola, Chupi continued to sell it through its website, noting that the heart-shaped diamond in the ring was “[h]eld in a pair of hands that honor friendship and strength, with the left hand wearing a North Star signet ring.” In its original description, and for four months following this initial announcement, Chupi never explained the meaning of the ring on the right hand holding the diamond. We will speculate on that in a moment. Further, Chupi explained that the three diamonds in the crown “represent the traditional emblem of loyalty and also symbolize the past, present & future, along with a nod to the fact this is the 3rd season of Bridgerton.” There’s that Bridgerton reference again.

Now, let’s break down the hands holding the heart-shaped diamond, starting with the left hand.

The left hand is wearing a signet ring. This one is easy to explain because Chupi described the ring the left hand is wearing for us. It is the North Star signet ring, which Chupi sells through its website as its “North Star Diamond Original Signet Ring.” Chupi explained that the ring represented “True North.” What is “true north?” Besides its literal meaning, the phrase “true north” represents your “internal compass or your personal calling” and “your authentic self.”

The right hand is wearing a ring on its middle finger. This ring has always been a bit of a conundrum. As mentioned above, Chupi never explained this ring in its original description. In fact, it remained silent on its significance until November 1. And, even after it “explained away” the middle finger ring in an Instagram story (which disappeared after 24 hours), Chupi never updated its website to confirm its meaning. Why? Well, you’ll find that most “ring truthers” believe it’s because this middle finger ring represents Luke. Luke often wears a ring on his middle right finger. In fact, in his People spread for Sexiest Man Alive released November 14, he’s seen wearing a ring on his right-hand middle finger. You can also find him wearing a ring on his right-hand middle finger throughout the Bridgerton Season 3 World Tour.

But, let’s pretend for a moment that the rings on the two hands holding the diamond heart have no significance whatsoever. That does not negate the fact the ring was made as a nod to Bridgerton Season 3. Yes, the season that both Nicola and Luke repeatedly described during interviews throughout the World Tour as their “shared experience.”

To round out this little “history lesson,” and just so I am completely up front, on November 1, 2024, Chupi reshared to its IG stories a story shared by Ashley McDonnell explaining that the right-hand middle finger ring on the Chupi-branded Claddagh represented “power” (basically, women’s empowerment). As of that date, Chupi had also removed all mentions of Bridgerton from its Claddagh ring descriptions and left only a reference to the rings being “inspired by” Nicola. However, the Claddagh could still be found under Chupi’s “Engagement” ring section and the articles titled, “Designing a Chupi Claddagh Ring for Nicola Coughlan” and “What Way to Wear a Claddagh Ring” still, to this day, reside under its “News” section. These articles still reference the ring’s ties to the third season of Bridgerton.

A BUNCH OF POINTS I’M TRYING TO MAKE:

Point 1: Nicola had the ring commissioned herself, per Chupi. We can surmise she understands the meaning of the ring based on her Irish (and Galway) heritage; thus, we can also deduce she knows the meaning behind how it is worn.

Point 2: The ring is important to Nicola. I’m not even going to use disclaiming phrases like “may be�� or “seems to be;” I’m just flat out stating the “ring IS important” to her. She has been seen wearing it a lot in her personal time. In fact, on September 20, she was photographed wearing the Claddagh during the Gucci afterparty, which means she took off the “workday” jewelry she had been wearing earlier in the day to put the Claddagh back on her finger. She has not been shy about flashing it in public. From her Chupi articles to her Tatcha stories to wearing it in public (at concerts, walking about).

Point 3: Based on comments made by Chupi on June 25 in its article titled, “Designing a Chupi Claddagh Ring for Nicola Coughlan,” it took four weeks “from a sketch to sparkling reality” to make the ring. This means, at the latest, it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024. However, some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches uploaded by Chupi indicate it was as early as April 26 (don’t even side eye me; I didn’t pull that shit). Based on this information, the ring was likely commissioned during and/or between the World Tour stops in Australia and Italy.

Point 4: Nicola wore the ring publicly as early as June 6 during the Dublin premiere. At that time, she wore it on her right-hand middle finger with the heart facing inwards. The way she wore the ring was also evidenced the following day in Galway by way of pictures in Chupi’s article titled, “What Way to Wear a Claddagh Ring.”

Point 5: Nicola flashed that glittering baby in her June 15 Tatcha IG post (I’m convinced that post holds so many secrets) and continued to wear it throughout the summer months (on her right-hand middle finger) as evidenced by pictures of her at the Taylor Swift Eras tour and in her August 1 Tatcha IG post. And, let’s round out the summer with her displaying the ring in her September 17 Tatcha IG stories, on September 20 during the Gucci afterparty, and in Alex Babsky’s September 25 IG post about Nicola being “in London today.”

Point 6: On October 1, Nicola had seemingly switched her diamond Claddagh from her right hand to her left-hand middle finger as exhibited in her Choose Love IG story. This switch was further indicated (but not confirmed because she conveniently put her caption over it) in her October 5 airplane IG story (deduced from the small gold band switching to her right hand) and in pap pictures of her published on October 8. On October 11, when she posted her Olaplex IG story, it appeared the ring was on her left-hand ring finger. We can also barely see the ring in the October 21 “Polin” picture; however, it cannot be determined if it is on her left-hand middle or ring finger. We haven’t seen her “out in the wild” since so the current status of her ring is not known, but we can probably safely assume she’s still wearing it, with the heart facing in.

Point 7: I believe everyone needs to make their own decision as to whether the right hand of the Claddagh – the one wearing the middle finger ring – represents Luke. Personally, I believe it does, but it is perfectly fine if you disagree. It could very well be a "power move." I’ve always believed the left hand of the Claddagh – the one wearing the North Star signet ring – represented “true north,” or Nicola’s internal compass to choose her own path. But, please do not let my opinion cloud your own.

Point 8: Regardless of your opinion about the hands holding the Claddagh’s heart-shaped diamond, the ring was acknowledged to represent Bridgerton Season 3 and that has Luke all over it.

Point 9: From Day 1, Nicola has worn the Claddagh with the heart facing inwards, meaning her heart is taken. To the best of my knowledge, this has never changed.

MY THOUGHTS:

First and foremost, Nicola has told the world her heart is taken.

Based on the above, why would Nicola wear that ring for anyone but Luke?

My father’s response: “She wouldn’t.”

Why? Because it would be fucking weird if she did.

Let’s play pretend for a moment.

You’re dating Nicola (and, NO, you can’t be Luke in this scenario). You’ve watched Nicola’s Bridgerton press tour for the past, say, six months. You’ve watched her flirt with Luke. You’re fully aware Lukolas ship her with Luke. In fact, you’re aware several of her castmates and crew ship her with Luke. You’re aware that, by the end of the World Tour, interviewers were getting bold enough to ask Nicola and Luke about their “friendship” because they, too, were intrigued by their chemistry. You’re also aware that, “People want [her] to marry Luke.” And, you’re fully aware that Nicola had that Claddagh ring made to, at a minimum, remind her of Bridgerton Season 3, the season she shared with Luke.

Would you be okay with her wearing THAT ring to signify the state of YOUR relationship with her?

If you are, get the fuck off my page.

Now, riddle me this, Batman –

Why was this ring made during the World Tour? And, more importantly, why was it worn during the World Tour?

Why did Luke and Nicola take a special trip to Galway? And (purely speculation here), why did the meeting with Nicola’s mum seem so emotional?

Why did the ring switch hands?

Why, Batman, why?

[jarofstyles]

Pierced Through The Heart

Hello my ducklings! Welcome to Pierced Through The Heart (I’m writing a second part it’s okay 🫶) friends to lovers, piercing artist h, artist Y/N, fluffy and smutty and all the fun stuff!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8.7k

Warnings- smut, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, h has tongue and lip piercings

“Finally! Hey.” An easy smile lit up his face as he watched her walk into his flat. It was always welcome to see her enter like she owned the place- she very well could, if she wanted to.. Looking her over with what he hoped were at least slightly concealed heart eyes, he lifted his hand for her to sit next to him on the well loved sofa. “Where have you been, gorgeous? Off hiding away?”

It had been a bit since they’d gotten together so when she had texted him asking if he was busy tonight, he had scrambled to make sure his place was clean and he could appear as nonchalant as possible when he texted her when he texted her to come over- even if his heart had been in his ass when she gave her ETA. 

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned, stretching her legs out as she took a seat right next to him as he so graciously offered. “I got a huge fucking commission and it’s taken me ages. M’happy about it, don’t get me wrong, but I feel a bit over my head a bit. I needed to get a head start on it so I didn’t fall behind.” Sometimes she did get in her head about work so it made sense, though it didn’t make him miss her any less. 

Harry nodded, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “I get it, babe. S’important and you've got to take care of your work. I just missed having you around.” He pouted playfully, putting his arm around her “But hey, you're here now.”

“Exactly.” She smiled tiredly, leaning her head on his shoulder. His cologne was a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed- as well as the simple concept of human touch. Being locked up in her studio as she chipped away at the commissions often had her forgetting how much both her body and mind actually craved a cuddle or two. “Where's the roommate tonight?”

Harry shrugged, his hand tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.  “He's out. Some party or another. You know how it is with Kev. Always living life on the edge.” He chuckled, but there was a hint of worry in his voice. It wouldn’t be long before he went off the deep end- but that wasn’t a discussion for tonight.

“Yeah...” It was hard. His roommate was a bit much, so it was better they were alone, but she felt bad for feeling that way. “Did you order the food yet? Or were you waiting for me?”

Harry smiled, his fingers tightening slightly on her shoulder in a little squeeze. It felt so good to have her close to him again. Thankfully she was just as happy to be cuddly with him and didn’t seem to be weirded out by her friend’s overt clinginess- or didn’t show it- because he felt slightly pathetic with how much he’d missed her presence. “I ordered already, love. Should be arriving any minute now.” He took a glance down at her, his eyes soft with… something. She couldn’t tell quite what it was, but she’d seen it a few times. “I've got everything set up just the way you like it.” 

“Ugh. You’re a godsend.” Wrapping her arms around him she hugged him tight, feeling a little bit of pressure roll off of her shoulders. He was always so good at things like that. taking care of her, making her feel relaxed, always being one step ahead. “You are the absolute best. I hope you know that.”

Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in return and relishing in the feeling of her initiating the embrace before pulling back. It wasn’t that he wanted to, nor did he fully, but he needed to attempt some semblance of normalcy. “I do my best, babe. Just want to make sure you're taken care of, that's all.” The man smiled down at her, his fingers trailing through her hair. Just couldn’t fucking help it, could he? “And honestly, I love doing things for you.”

Harry had never considered himself much for taking care of people prior, tending to be more of a lone wolf in most aspect of his life, but when he met Y/N it had all… just come out. He loved being the one making sure she was smiling.  Making sure she was well fed, warm, feeling comfortable in his presence. It gave him a sense of purpose, he thinks. The smiles were reward enough, but making her feel comfortable in his company was the ultimate goal. It's why he made sure his roommate wasn’t going to be here tonight. Y/N was too polite to say he made her a little uneasy, but he was attentive to her and receptive to her feelings. Her body language never seemed at ease when he was around-‘so he eliminated that sort of issue

“And that’s why you’re above everyone else.” Y/N mumbled, keeping her eyes closed as he ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. “That feels incredible, by the way.”

Harry blushed to himself, grateful she couldn’t see it right now. It was weird, feeling such a sense of pride wash over him over something so simple. He loved being the one she turned to, the one she felt most comfortable with. Hearing her praise him made him feel like he was genuinely doing something right. “Ah, yeah?”

“Mhm.” The girl nodded. “Tell me about work, though. Any interesting piercings? Anyone pass out? Had that one weird guy come in again? I want to know it all.” She kept her cheek pressed to his shoulder as he continued the motions.

Harry let out a soft laugh, settling into the comfortable rhythm of running his fingers through the silky locks as he tried to think of something interesting enough to tell her. “Well, actually, there was this one guy who came in for his first ear piercing and he freaked the fuck out when he saw the needle. He started shaking and sweating and just about passed out cold on the chair.”

“For an ear piercing?” Y/N let out a choked laugh. “I try not to judge people but… that’s kind of an overreaction, isn’t it?”

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. It was like her to be sweet about it and not judge, but he did sometimes. She was the only one who knew he really rolled his eyes at shit like that. He leaned down, pressing a small kiss to the crown of her head before pulling back to continue his story. “Yeah, I thought so too. But you should've seen the look on his face when I finally got the needle through.”

“Oi.” She winced. “Yeah, M’sure that was a joy to deal with.” Sarcasm laced her tone. “You have loads more patience than me. It’s why I work with as few people as possible.” Retail and service has never bode well with her, and when she had fallen into her own artwork she had counted her blessings that it meant she didn’t have to work with people day to day. 

Harry smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he listened to her voice. He loved her sarcasm, her wit, her everything, but he tried to keep that sort of fondness off of his face the best he could. “That's part of why I like bein’ close with you, actually. You're low-maintenance and always so easy to be around. A little grumpy, but s’cute.”

“Grumpy?” Her nose wrinkled, but she couldn’t deny it. The girl did her absolute best to be as sweet as she could but one of the things that made her tick was stupidity, and that was something people had to deal with in abundance when they worked in those industries. She was a little bit grumpy when it came to people. “I…wish I could deny those allegations, but I can’t. But in my defense, people shouldn’t be asking so many stupid questions. I worry more and more that people lose common sense as the days go by.”

Harry laughed, pulling her a little tighter against his side. "Grumpy and worried about the loss of common sense, huh? That's my girl." He paused, his fingers still gently fiddling with the ends of her hair. "But even with all that, you're still the most comfortable person for me to be around."

“Really?” She looked at him in surprise. Her guess would have been maybe Mitch, or Connor. Not her. “How come? I mean, not that I’m not extremely flattered and have to calm my ego at this moment because I can literally feel it growing out of my ears.” 

Harry smiled, feeling his tummy twist slightly as he looked down at her, "Because you're just... you, ya know? You're honest, and a bit grumpy-which we already established as cute-, and you don't put up with any of my shit." It was refreshing to have someone who cared about you enough to call you out on shit, and that’s what he needed. It was an interesting juxtaposition to see her soft doe-like eyes looking up at him with her head tilted, telling him that he’s absolutely ‘full of shit’. Harry had been known to be a bit arrogant at times and she had taken that level way down, in a good way. "And you're the only person who can make me laugh without even trying."

“H… you’re gonna make me blush.” She playfully batted at his chest, but felt the swirl of warmth in her tummy. It was a true compliment all things considered. Harry seemed open, but he kept people at an arm's length usually. She had noticed that he didn’t do it with her which she had always special, but hearing it out loud made her feel even more so.

Harry's eyes softened slightly as he looked at her. "You're the only one who can see past all the layers and shit and just get me, you know?" He leaned in just a bit, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "And I fucking love it." 

It was that moment, she would come to reflect, where the tension started. The kiss to the cheek, the compliments. It had started the loaded tension, the sexual undertone for the rest of the night. 

Later on, after the food had been eaten and settled in their bellies and the second episode had ended and the third had begun, she realized how close she had gotten to him through the night. Her legs over his thighs, his thumb tracing over her knee. His eyes were on the screen giving her a chance to observe his beautiful fucking face for a moment without feeling the normal intimidation she would from him staring right back at her. The lip ring, the sharp curve of his jaw, his pretty mouth, the slope of his nose- a modern Apollo. It had been no secret that he was good looking but it was harder to ignore tonight. It was always hard to ignore just how beautiful the man was, but feeling it now, seeing it up close and personal felt like a privilege. Her body flushed when she noticed his eyes on her- he caught her staring, his eyebrow raised at her, but didn’t say a word.

Harry moved his hand from her knee, tracing his fingers up her thigh slowly before resting it there again. He leaned in closer, his lips curling as he whispered to her. "You like what you see, love? Wanna take a picture? I’ll pose for you, even. Let the pretty artist do her thing. Think I’d be a good muse?" The hint of tease was in there but he was waiting for her reaction. Feeling his own want for her bubbling over, simmering under his fingertips.

“You’re really handsome, H. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, but you are.” Ever the blunt person, Y/N didn’t shy away from telling him that he was beautiful. That was the god’s honest truth. Harry was factually gorgeous and she had always thought so, as did most human beings whenever they went out. He commanded a room without even trying, attracting eyes like magnets- only his being the opposite pole. 

Harry's smirk grew wider at her words, his hand still resting on her thigh. "Handsome, huh?" He repeated, his voice huskier than she had heard it before. It sent a bit of a zing to her tummy because- that was hot. There was a quick glance at the TV before looking back at her, his eyes locking onto hers. "You're pretty fucking stunning yourself, you know that?"

The air between them was static, the tension thick and palpable. Harry's hand on her thigh was a constant reminder of his presence, of his touch. Her legs were draped over his, their bodies close, touching in a way they had before a million times but it felt… different. The charge was there. He could feel it and he was sure she could too. What exactly changed, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps the heart had grown fonder over their bit of time apart, or perhaps the dam was finally overflowing and breaking against the weight of trying to hold back desires hidden behind the walls- either way, he was going to find out. The sound of the TV in the background was barely audible over the pounding of their hearts, but he could feel it in his throat.

Harry had been pining for her for what felt like an eternity. He'd watch her from afar, his heart aching with every smile she shared with someone else. The only true explanation he could come to was that he loved her, he realized. He had loved her for a long time now. He ached for her, his heart hurting every time she mentioned dating apps or hookups in the past because fuck, he wanted to be the one she was talking about, the one she was laughing with. He wanted to be her world, her everything. No one would expect the man to be a romantic, but he was. Maybe she’d brought it out of him, but he felt completely at her mercy and she had no idea just how tightly wound he was around her tiniest finger.

“You think so?” She felt a little shy with that compliment. It wasn’t often that she got like that, but Harry had a way of pulling it out of her. “Stunning is a big word, but thank you.” Licking over her lip, she looked down to his tattooed wrist, running her finger over the ink. “I’m glad you invited me to hang out tonight.”’

Harry's heart flipped at her shy reaction. Damn, she was so fucking cute. He wanted to lean in, brush his lips over hers and take a taste of her. The way she was looking at his tattoos, running her finger over them was driving him crazy. The sensation was something he’d dreamt about, post coitial bliss with her hands all over him in the best way. He wanted to feel all of it, all of her, everywhere

"You're more than fucking stunning, you know that?" Harry's voice was raspy as he spoke, volume low as if trying to keep it private for them even if they were already alone. He shifted in his seat, his hand on her thigh flexing a little as he leaned in closer to her.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as she looked at him, throat tight. She had an idea what was happening but she hadn’t anticipated it actually being any reality, let alone one that would be happening tonight. Part of her wanted to shy away but she couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t let her. Eyes curious and round, her head tilted in question as he looked right back at her.

Harry noticed the way she was looking at him, head falling back slightly as he let it a light groan. "Fuck, don't look at me like that, please." He begged. He couldn't take it, seeing her so nervous and shy. 

“Like what?” Her eyes widened slightly but she made no move to shift away from him. What was she doing? What was happening? And why did she want him to keep going, keep touching her, why did she feel like she was lightheaded from the attention he was paying to her? Had he always looked at her like this?

Harry's eyes were locked onto hers, his gaze intense. "Like you're confused. Like you don’t know how fuckin’ gorgeous I find you." He admitted, his hand on her thigh trembling slightly. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, you're fucking killing me."

Warm fingertips trailed over his wrist and down his hand, brushing over his wrists and back up as she waited for him to react. The anticipation was killing her, sitting perfectly still as she decided to wait. to let him take the lead. “Why am I killing you?” She was playing dumb. The sexual tension had risen up, her skin hot from it, but she wanted to hear it from him.

Harry sucked in a breath as she trailed her fingertips over his wrist, his heart racing in his chest. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to tell- had to show her. To let out everything that was building up inside of him. "Because I want you so goddamn bad." His voice was hoarse, laced with fervor, his eyes pleading with her to understand. He couldn't help the way he felt, the way he had always felt about her. "I've wanted you for so long, been pining for you.. it's driving me insane."

“You have?” Her head tilted, hair falling over her shoulder as he dropped that bomb on her. Y/N hadn���t had any real idea that he had wanted her, had always sort of thought maybe he just liked that she was easy to hang out with and that they’d meshed together really well, but the knowledge that he was pining over her sent the hoard of butterflies into her stomach. “How.. for how long?”

Harry's jaw clenched, knowing it was time to confess. There was no use in hiding it anymore, even if she was going to reject him. It was about to burst from his seams, leak from his lips regardless. "Since we’ve met," He admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I’ve been fucking useless over you. Used t’watch you, wonder what it would be like to have you, to hold you, to kiss you." He looked at her with desperate eyes.

"I'd see you talking to that asshole ex of yours, and I'd just want to fucking rip him apart and keep you all to myself. Knew I could treat you better, make you feel better, give you all the shit he couldn’t. Heard you cry too many times over people that aren’t worth it and I can give you all the shit you need. I know I can." He admitted, his face flushing with anger and jealousy. "I've tried to ignore it, to move on, but I can't."

"You have no idea how many times I've imagined telling you, but I didn’t want to fuck things up between things up between us. You’ve felt safe with me. I didn’t want you to feel like I’ve been friends with you as some fucking attempt to get into your pants because that isn’t it. I’ll be your friend regardless, but I just need a shot. Please. Just give me one chance t’see." Harry felt a little pathetic for his approach but he didn’t have much control over it. It was all in her hands now.

Her breathing hitched as she listened, her cunt getting slightly wet at the way he looked at her, at how he spoke. losing that bit of a veil he had over him, showing her how he had felt. Finally, It felt like that part she couldn’t figure out was coming to the light. “Harry…” she breathed, feeling his hand reach for her jaw. It was welcomed, his warm fingertips tilting her head up.

She didn’t know he had that in him, but she really fucking liked it. 

Gripping her chin firmly, his thumb brushing over her pouted lower lip as he looked into her eyes. "Shut up and kiss me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument. Harry didn't wait for her to respond. Leaning in, his free hand came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her close to him as he crushed their lips together. It was rough, passionate and intense, a hunger she hadn't sensed from him before- and she strangely loved it.

Harry’s lips were demanding, claiming hers as if she belonged to him. His tongue pushed past her lips, tangling with hers in a heated kiss that left her gasping. He kissed her like he was starving for her, like he hadn't eaten in days and she was the only thing that could satisfy him. His lips were bruising, hungry, insistent, molding against hers with a fierce intensity that took her breath away. The tip of his tongue delved into her mouth, probing, tasting, owning, his moan vibrating against her lips as he deepened the kiss.

She melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she returned it with equal fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him close as she surrendered to the overwhelming hunger he stirred within her. She whimpered into the kiss, her body trembling with need, her heart racing in her chest.

Y/N could feel just how much he meant it, how much he had yearned for her. She could taste it on his tongue as he held her to his body, resting her on his thighs. He was greedy with her, taking and taking and taking- but she didn’t mind at all. If anything she flowed into it, melting into the feeling.

The way she fed into the kiss, so willingly and completely, made his heart race and his head spin. He could taste her surrender, her desire, her longing for him and he drank it in eagerly, as if he could never get enough of her. Her body melted into his embrace as her lips parted further, inviting him in deeper. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, her hands gripping his hair almost painfully, but he hardly cared.

Her body was pliant, her breathing uneven, as he continued to delve into her mouth. He could feel the way she shifted on his lap, her legs bracketing his hips as she slowly began to move herself against him.

A low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound almost primal as he felt her shifting on his lap. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard and it only served to drive him further into madness. He wanted more of her, all of her, every single part of her. “Baby…” The nickname fell out of her mouth as a breathless sigh. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

He pulled back from the kiss slightly, his breath coming in ragged pants as he stared down at her. Her eyes were glazed over with desire, her lips swollen and so prettily puffy from the intensity of their kissing- he wanted this to be the state of them every fucking day. Why was this only the first time he’d gotten the privilege of getting to see this? "I can't... I can't think straight when you're like this,"

Uneven breaths filtered the room, the TV show long forgotten behind them. She, too, was unable to think straight as she looked into his eyes. It was gorgeous, he was fucking gorgeous, looking fucked out just from a kiss alone. “Huh?” Y/N was hazy herself. This wasn’t what she had expected from coming over tonight but she had no complaints. Her mouth felt like it was buzzing and her clit was throbbing as she sat against him, his large hands keeping her still otherwise she’d continue her ministrations on top of him.

Harry reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a gentle touch. "Just looking at you, baby, makes me lose my damn mind. I need you to focus on me for a second, okay?" He swallowed hard as he tried to calm himself down. "You're fuckin’ stunning. Driving me crazy, really fucking crazy. The way you move against me... I need more of it." The man sighed out, his fingers trailing down her throat gently, petting her.

Harry's mind was swimming with need, a deep and intense desire to have her, to make her his and his alone. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his, the heat rolling off of her in waves. He wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her. “But I don’t want t’just fuck you. I want you. Want you to be my girl.”

Holding her eyes with his own, he thumbed over her swollen bottom lip and watched as it snapped back to place as he released it. “I want t’do the whole thing. The dates, the flowers, everything you want. I don’t want to ruin this friendship but fuck, darling… I just want you to be mine.” He swallowed thickly, watching her reaction. “I’m willing to work for that title… but I can’t hold back anymore. Can’t keep pretending that I’m not dying t’hold you and kiss this perfect fucking mouth.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. Her cheeks were hot under the skin, chest rising and falling with every deep breath she took. It felt like he’d stolen her breath and her thoughts as he confessed to her, making her blink at him a few times. She looked completely lost in his words and the way he looked at her as he spoke them. The air around was thick with tension and desire.

There wasn’t a thought that needed to be had to confirm that she wanted him back, though. She always adored him, but he’d never seemed like the relationship type. Never showed his interest in the way she had anticipated. It had taken her by surprise, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t happy about it.

Without thinking, she reached up and cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his berry hued lips and running over the piercing as she searched his eyes. She could see the raw emotion in them, the way he was barely holding on to his control. And it broke her heart, in a way, because she was so completely aware of how painful it could be to hold back emotions for someone. “I wish you hadn’t hidden it for so long.” Softly, she used her other hand to push back his hair. “I can’t lie and say this isn’t a surprise… but I am more than willing to give it a shot.” Indulging in him, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Especially when you kiss me like you just did.”

She deepened the kiss, parting her lips for him and wrapping her arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. Harry groaned against her mouth, pulling her flush against him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

That was the answer he needed. He had imagined her rejection a million times, her acceptance a few times more, but nothing could compare to the actual feeling of it. Having her in his lap and the overwhelming giddy feeling working its way through his limbs as he tried to show it through his actions.

The kiss was needy, full of the  longing and passion that had been building up over the months. He was rough and gentle at the same time, leaving her dizzy as he trailed kisses from her lips to her jaw. “Good. So it’s settled… no more silly dates with useless boys. You’re gonna give me a shot to show you just how much I can appreciate you.”

“Mhm.” Y/N nearly purred, rolling her head to the side as he kissed over her skin and down to her throat. It had always been sensitive for her, but feeling the cool brush of his lip ring, and then the metallic ball of his tongue piercing brush her hot skin had her shiver in his arms.

Harry smirked, knowing he was getting to her head. His hands roamed her body, pulling her in even closer as he sucked on a soft spot right under her ear. God, she was fucking soft wherever he touched her, he couldn’t get enough of her. He sucked hard on the spot, his nose brushing against her skin as he inhaled her scent deeply. His other hand came up to wrap around her throat, applying just a bit of pressure as he tilted her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck.

“Fuck.” Y/N felt her second heartbeat between her thighs, the strong hand and thick fingers holding her still. Positioning her where he wanted her. His rings added a similar sensation to his piercings, the mix of hot and cold working her up.

He hummed at her response, his hand tightening around her throat just slightly as he moved down to bite at her collarbone. A low growl rumbled in his chest, feeling the way her body trembled under him as he pressed a kiss over the racing pulse on her neck. Harry pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own dark and intense as he spoke in a low, rough tone. "M’gonna mark you up, m’love. Every inch of your skin is gonna have my fingerprints, my bites, my kisses. You're gonna be my girl, and everyone's gonna fuckin’ know it."

“Yeah.” She hummed, grinning as his hand loosened slightly on her throat. As toxic as it may be, she ate up the possessive words, wanting to let him do that very thing.

Harry let out a low, pleased noise at her words, his hips rocking forward as he pressed against her heat. He kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth as he gripped her hip with one hand and reached down to undo his pants with the other. His poor cock needed to breath, aching with need as he finally got her exactly where he wanted her.

"How do you like to be touched, baby?" He whispered into her ear, before sucking on the lobe gently and nipping it, smirking to himself as he felt her shudder in his arms. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes shining. “Hm? I want t’know. Want t’make you the happiest fuckin’ girl. Can do anything y’want.”

“I…” She had trouble finding her words. This was not at all the sort of thing she’d anticipated coming over tonight, but she was loving every second of it. Harry… wanting her? It seemed like it was one of those dreams, one of those things that sounded nice in theory but would never happen- and yet here he was. Asking how she liked being touched because he wanted to be the one doing it. “I like when you held my throat… and when you bit me. And when you held my jaw.”

Harry's lips quirked into a half grin and he nodded. He pulled back to look at her, his thumb tracing over her jaw where he had just held it so gently. He leaned down and bit the skin there lightly, feeling her shiver under him. Her reaction was immediate and visceral. The moment his teeth sank into her jaw, she let out a soft, needy whine, her eyes fluttering closed as her body relaxed into his grip. Her leg tightened around his waist, her free hand reaching up to gently touch the spot where he'd bitten her.

Her whole body seemed to melt against him, her back arching as she pressed herself closer, seeking more of that delicious pain. A soft, high-pitched noise escaped her lips, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, as she tilted her head to the side, offering him better access to her neck as she felt his nose drag down the side of it.

She was completely lost in the sensation, her mind going blank as all her focus shifted to the feeling of his teeth on her skin. Her fingers curled into his shirt, her nails digging in slightly as she held on for dear life, her other hand still resting on the spot he'd bitten, gently massaging it. “That feels so good.” She exhaled, the feelings washing over her. “I love how you touch me, H.”

Harry smiled against her skin, his teeth grazing over her jaw as he spoke. "I love touching you too, sweetheart. You're so fuckin’ responsive, for me.” He kissed the spot he'd bitten, soothing it with his lips before pulling back to look at her again.

His bulge rocked between her thighs, his hand moving to cup her face. She could feel his want for her, his affection. Harry hadn’t been joking in the slightest that he wanted to be hers, and that was something she hadn’t experienced before.

"You still haven't let me make you mine, properly," Harry said, a hint of a pout on his lips. "I want all of you, Y/N." He moved himself against her again, the cock in his pants rubbing against her aching cunt. "Are y’gonna let me have you?"

“Y-Yeah.” She nodded, shy smile on her face. There was nothing she wanted more in the moment, actually. 

 “Don’t want you to regret it, though.” Harry murmured, face sobering. As much as he wanted her, he wanted to make sure this was what she truly wanted above anything else. “We don’t have to go too far if you don’t want to.” 

“I wanna.” Y/N hadn’t been fucked in a while, no, but she trusted him. Hell, he’d waxed near poetry about how he wanted to be hers and vice versa. There was no one night stand needed to get off. Harry could do it- and if the things she had heard were true, he could do it very well.  “Want you to fuck me.”

Harry's eyes widened at her confession, his hand lingering on her cheek for a moment before he let go. "Well," he said, swallowing thickly. "I can certainly do that."

He was practically vibrating with excitement, his heart racing in his chest as he held her close. The thought of finally being able to claim her as his own, to be the one to make her feel good and cry out his name, was almost too much for him to handle. "I've wanted to be with you for so fuckin’ long." Harry murmured against her skin, his breath warm against her. "I've thought about you every night as I've fallen asleep, imagining what it would be like to finally have you, Y/N. You’ve got no idea"

“Then have me.” Y/N could hardly believe it, but she needed it just as badly now. Her body was hot and achy and her cunt was wet and felt so empty- Harry would fix it. He was the only one that could. “Touch wherever you want. I trust you.”

The declaration of trust meant more to him than she would probably ever realize. It gave him the confidence to go for it. Harry's hand immediately moved between her legs, rubbing her through the fabric of her pants. The man groaned as he felt how wet she was, his fingers tracing over her cunt as he breathed against her lips. "Oh, fuck, baby." he whispered in awe.

“Take them off.” her plea was a little whiny but it seemed to make him happy with how he smiled against her lips. “Please… I want to feel you touch me with nothing stopping it. Need it.”

Harry's smile was wicked as he reached for the waistband of her pants, quickly adjusting her so he could tug them down her legs along with her underwear. There was very little time to waste when it came to getting to have her. This had been his wet dream, his fantasy, and he wasn’t going to waste it. He sat back up and looked at her, his eyes roaming over her bare pussy before he knelt down in front of her with a husky groan.

“What?” She felt shy with him staring at her, the most vulnerable she had ever felt in front of him. The hunger in his eyes was visible and she knew he liked what he saw, but his quiet observation was unnerving. She watching the silver glint of his piercing glint as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, strong, ringed hands gently pressing her thighs open and black polished fingers digging into her skin.

“M’sorry, baby.” he crooned. “Don’t mean to stare, but…. I’ve been waiting so long. M’not even sure this is real.” Any bit of control was completely gone. He leaned forward, pressing his face against the plush of her lower tummy, inhaling her scent before he looked up at her with those starving eyes again. "Fuck, you smell so good. You’ve no idea." he murmured before placing a kiss to her mound. “Wanna eat you up.”

Where she found the nerve, she had no clue- but the moment she had it, she let it go. “Do it.”

Her words were the last thing he needed before he gave into her- happily. Harry's hands gripped her thighs greedily as he buried his mouth between her legs, indulging in what he’d been wanting to taste for ages. He lightly kissed over her clit and nuzzled her as her felt her jolt at the feeling, letting her settle into it for a moment before getting into it. The cool metal ball of his tongue piercing tapping over her clit had her shivering, a shaky gasp leaving her swollen lips as her eyes fell closed. 

It was overwhelming, to say the least. Harry's tongue felt hot and slick as it lathed over her pussy- the contrast in temperatures between him and her sensitive flesh making her squirm. He explored her, leaving nowhere untouched as she gripped the cushion next to her, taking full advantage of his permission to taste before he settled into a slow, gentle rhythm of lapping at her cunt. The man was good- almost too good.

She could feel herself sinking into the cushion beneath her as he ate her out, his tongue dipping into her pussy and licking at her entrance before swirling around her clit. His hands were gentle on her thighs, rings cool to the touch and fingertips digging into her skin as he pushed them open wider for him. He groaned against her, eyes peering up at her.The vibrations against her pussy sent tremors through her body.  “Look at me, baby. Let me see your pretty eyes.”

The view was something else completely. Looking down at him, she felt herself nearly lose it altogether. It didn’t seem fair to have someone look that good doing such a filthy act, but it only seemed to make perfect sense for him. Harry exuded sex, and his sensual nature had always made her a bit curious in the past- but this was other worldly. His nose rubbed against her clit, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh, hair a mess, as hazy, dark green peered up at her from where they were so comfortably buried between her legs. Like they were made to be there.

Her hands fell to his hair, back arching as his tongue brushed her entrance again, breathing hitched as he nuzzled into her cunt, not caring about any mess as he pressed his tongue into her, nose brushing her clit with every movement. “Oh, fuck.” Her voice was a choked mess as she looked down at him in shock, not at all expecting this out of him. She should have, she should have known he was a filthy fuck, but she’d apparently unleashed something in him.

His hair was a wild mess as she gripped it, pulling him closer as he devoured her. He made happy noises against her, moving up to momentarily suck on her clit before plunging his tongue back inside her. She could feel his scruff scratching against her inner thighs, a rough sensation that made her clench around his tongue. It was animalistic, desperate in a way she had never felt before.

Harry hadn’t felt this deprived in his life. He hadn’t liked a woman this much before either, hadn’t wanted her this badly. He needed some relief, especially with her rocking her damn cunt against his face. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled his sweats down, tugging his embarrassingly hard cock out and started to stroke. His hips rocked in time with the rhythm of his tongue, hand moving faster as she arched her back, pulling him closer. He could feel her getting closer, body trembling beneath him.

“H…” she panted, gently tugging him away from her cunt. “Inside me. I want to cum with you inside me.”

Harry groaned, a whine slipping from his lips as he pulled himself away from her pussy, a string of saliva connecting his tongue to her entrance before breaking away.

“M’not done with that. You taste so fucking good.” He mumbled, leaning himself up. His hands were gentle as he adjusted her to make them both comfortable. “Gonna make it good for you, baby. I promise.”  Another time he would take his time, make love to her properly. Spend hours with her in a bed when they both had patience- but right now? He knew the both of them needed relief, and they needed it now. Taking a shaky breath, he positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance, the head pressing against her soaked lips. He looked up at her, eyes wild as he pushed forward, the tip popping inside her. He let out a satisfied groan as he sunk himself in to the hilt, her tight pussy squeezing him the way he knew she would. 

She gasped, the way her walls closed in tighter on him as he sunk to the base was a small slice of heaven for him. He closed his eyes, riding out the pleasure of it for a moment. He could feel her body reacting in kind, legs trembling. “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?” He looked down at her, making sure she didn’t have any discomfort on her face. 

“I’m okay.” She sighed, gripping onto his forearm. “I’m so okay. I want it all. You can give it to me.” Lightly dragging her nails down his skin, she knew she could handle it. It’s how she liked it- how she wanted him to give it to her. Y/N wanted Harry exactly how he wanted to give it because she had full confidence he was going to give it to her good. 

“Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on t’me then.” He pulled out barely, just the head remaining before thrusting himself back in, making her jolt under him. Deep- he was so deep, making her gasp as the pleasured fullness was felt to its extent. This was exactly what they needed. His hands grabbed her hips and he started moving in earnest, every thrust baring his need for her to cum around him. “Don’t have to hold back with me, sweet girl. Gonna make sure you feel good all night.”

She was a vision of beauty, legs spread wide as he fucked into her, the sound of their skin thudding together echoing through the room. Tears of pleasure slowly pooled in her waterline as he fucked her deep, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. Slow, deep, passion. It was palpable. 

Not overly rough, no. Not at all. It was hot and heavy in the best possible way, making her eyes roll back. He wasn’t using her as a toy, but showing her how much he wanted her with his body. There was no mistaking it. Harry meant what he said. He wanted her, and he was speaking through his body. She heard him loud and fucking clear. Hopefully, he was listening back. 

The room was filled with the sounds of their sex, the slap of skin, the wet squelch of his cock sinking into her over and over. She was shaking, her nails digging into his biceps as he pounded into her, the force of his thrusts making the aged sofa squeak. If it was any other scenario, he’d be cautious- but he was finally getting the woman he had been dreaming of around his cock.

Her whole body was a trembling mess, her breasts bouncing with each thorough thrust. Her back arched off the couch as he hit that sweet spot inside her, her walls clamping down on him like a vice. She let out a mewl, a saccharine call of his name as the intense pleasure washed over her. “Harry- Harry if you keep going M’gonna cum.” It was a frantic warning. Her mind couldn’t figure out if it was too much or not, but she didn’t want it to stop.

He couldn't help himself, his thrusts became even more urgent as he felt her walls fluttering around him, signaling her impending orgasm. He grabbed her face, his thumb pressing against her lips, shushing her as he fucked into with a blissed out smile. "Shh, m’dream girl, let it happen. Cum on my cock. Been dreaming of you for ages.

Let me have it." 

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled moan of his name as her orgasm hit her. White hot pleasure hitting her blood as the tears left her waterline when her eyes squeezed shut, she dug her nails into him with a garbled whimper. Her body shook, her pussy fluttering around his cock as he continued to fuck her through it, prolonging her pleasure.

Harry leaned down, resting his forehead against hers as he felt his own climax building within him- especially with the feel of her nails digging into him and her own orgasm. "Fuck.. You're so fuckin’ perfect, so good, I'm gonna cum.." He whispered his final warning, groaning against her skin.

“Please.” Y/N whispered, dragging her nails up his arms and over his shoulders. “Give it to me. M’on the pill.” Her lips brushed his ear. “I want to feel it. You’ve been so nice to me tonight and I love it. Cum for me how you want. Anywhere you w-want.” 

Harry was a mass of frayed nerve endings as he neared his release. His entire body felt like it was buzzing, his heart beating fast against his chest. The build up of pleasure in his balls and the slick feeling of her pussy made him feel as if he was on cloud nine.

His muscles tensed, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. He was so close. He could feel his orgasm building, coiling in the base of his spine, ready to explode- but her sensual coos into his ear and fingers down arms had been the breaking point. "I'm gonna cum so fucking hard," he gritted out, his voice strained with effort. “M’cumming for you, baby. G-Gonna give it all t’you and make you m-mine.” His words stuttered as he felt it start. His vision started to blur and his breath hitched in his throat as he thrust into her one final time, holding himself deep inside her as his orgasm ripped through him. His vision went white, his mind going blank as he emptied himself into her, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum.

Catching his breath, he let himself sag into her as he felt her hand dragging up and down his back. Mutual comfort as she held him, helping him through his own orgasm as she wrapped a leg around him, making sure he felt steady as he checked in on her. His ears were sorta ringing in a good way, but he was chuffed. “Okay?” He cupped her cheek, stroking her heated skin. At her nod, he grinned widely. “Yeah? Okay- okay, good. Jus’, need to make sure you’re good. Hold on. Need t’make us more comfortable. I’ll clean up in a second.” 

Ever so carefully, Harry pulled out of her, his softening cock slipping from her sensitive pussy. He cooed at the slight hiss she let out, apologizing as he grabbed a few tissues clumsily from the coffee table and wiped her the best he could as gathered her close on his lap, cradling her in his arms as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, anywhere he could reach without breaking the tender moment. “That’s my girl. Fuck… you’re everything I want.”

Y/N had pushed away her crush on him when they’d first met, especially when they started to become closer friends- but this had been beyond her expectations. Harry had given her the fuck of her life all while claiming his devotion to her- something no one else had done before. She was borderline giddy as his hands stroke her, the rushed sex leaving their tops on and a true nod to the frantic passion they’d felt once the kissing had started.

A giggle left her throat as she peeled her eyes open to look at his flushed face and swollen lips, his eyes burning with an emotion she couldn’t place as she ran her hands over his shoulders. “We probably look so silly.” Harry’s pants around his ankles and hers off completely, both with just a shirt on.

Harry chuckled softly, his breath ghosting along her cheek as he spoke, his voice low and raspy from the intensity of their just-past fucking. The way she was looking at him was almost better than her moans had been.

“Silly, hmm?” Harry’s eyes took on a mischievous edge as his fingers traced the curve of her waist. He sat up on the couch, dragging her with him so she was straddling his lap. His roommate be damned, he wasn’t too concerned about the mess on the couch right now.

“Mhm.” Her smile faded into a soft grin. “We were a little eager, huh?”

Eager was an understatement, but Harry loved how cute she looked in this moment. The way she was sitting on top of him, all breathless and relaxed—it made him want to do it all over again, if only to see that look on her face.

Harry’s hand wandered to the back of her neck, his thumb gently tracing circles against her skin as he spoke. “I am eager.” He sobered slightly. “I meant what I said. I want you. I promise I’d be the best person you’ve ever dated. I’ll worship you every day and make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips, his eyes still locked on hers. “I’ll make you laugh every day, be there for you through everything. And when it comes to the bedroom,” Harry paused, grinning slyly.

“Hush.” Y/N giggled, placing their lips back together for a longer kiss, slow and smooth as she pulled back. their lips made a soft clicking sound as she rubbed her nose against his. “So if you want to be my boyfriend…. does that mean you’ll give me free piercings?”

Harry let out a chuckle, his arms wrapping around her waist as he hugged her close. “Free piercings, exclusive attention, really bad jokes, and a love that’ll make your heart skip a beat. That’s the deal, love. But you have to promise me one thing in return.”

“Hm… what’s that?”

Harry would give her the world if she asked for it, probably, but he did have one stipulation. “No more waiting between commissions t’see you. You can set up here, or I can come see you after work. M’a little clingy, if you couldn’t tell. Deal?” “Deal.”

[straylightdream]

body and soul

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader

↳ after a terrible day at work there is nothing more he wants then to go on a motorcycle ride with you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmates au?, non idol au, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, they’re both so incredibly down bad for each other, wonwoo rides a motorcycle (I don’t know if that’s a warning), teasing, smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: this can be read as a one shot but it’s also connected to king of my heart, but you don’t need to read that to understand this story. Thank you @whimsical-whatever so much for helping me figure out this story.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: creampie, wonwoo has breeding kink even though he doesn’t want to admit it, sex outside (but no one is around) sex against a brick wall, lingerie kink, cum play, oral in the shower (him rec), possibly snowballing

Sometimes after a long day Wonwoo likes to go on motorcycle rides to just release stress. Once he met you he realized being around you took all the weight off his shoulder whenever he was stressed. He still absolutely loved riding his bike. He loves when he gets to ride with you sitting behind holding on to him. There is nothing quite like the feeling of him riding while your arms are wrapped tightly around him.

A shitty day at work led him to going straight to your apartment instead of his own. He knew Mingyu was home from work already and his girlfriend was over.

He’s been with you for almost two years now and he doesn’t even bother knocking; he'd just type in his key code you gave him. He finds you sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop in front of you. Even when you weren’t on the clock you were always looking at work related things at home.

“Baby,” he smiles as you look up.

“Hey Wonwoo,” you smile back.

“Can you go on a ride with me?” He doesn’t want to think about work, he just wants to not think at all and ride his bike with you.

“Yeah, let me change real quick.” You’re dressed in a small pair of lounge shorts that aren’t suitable for riding.

He sets his helmet down on your coffee table and sits down on your big couch near the window. He spends a few minutes browsing through his phone and letting Mingyu know he has the apartment to himself tonight. He doesn’t plan on sleeping in his own bed. He much rather sleeping here with you.

You walk out into the living room dressed in joggers and a jacket. Holding the bike helmet Wonwoo got you. Very early on in your relationship he bought you your own motorcycle helmet. He loved being able to go on rides with you.

He stands up and grabs your hand leading you out of the apartment.

-

Riding down the street your arms are wrapped tightly around his waist as your head rests against his back. You feel at ease just being with him like this.

Something about Wonwoo always makes you feel like you’re whole. That something deep inside of you was missing before him. If soulmates are real you know he’s yours.

Before him you had never ridden on a motorcycle and now it’s one of your favorite ways to travel with him.

The first drop of water you felt left you confused. Glancing, you saw the dark clouds above you. You didn’t bother looking at the weather but it hasn’t rained recently.

Within moments it starts to pour. Your outfit was not fit for the rain.

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo says loud enough for you to hear over his bike.

He sees some buildings that look closer. Quickly he pulls his bike into a covered dark all that’s absolutely empty. He helps you off the bike and unbuckles your helmet. You pull it off handing it to him. You can’t help but feel cold with how wet you got in that unexpected downpour.

“Baby I didn’t think it was supposed to rain.” He reaches up pushing the rain for your cheeks.

“It’s okay.”

“I think we’re stuck here for a while. It looks like all these businesses are closed.”

You can’t help but shake a little. You definitely weren’t dressed for the rain and your joggers you wore are wet and sticking to your skin. “Baby I’m sorry,” he takes your helmet from your hands and sets it on the back of his bike. He wastes no time pulling you close to his body. “Let me warm you up.” He holds you close, rubbing your body. He leans his head down resting his face against your neck. He doesn’t kiss your neck but his lips gently brush the sensitive spot on your neck that always turns you on. A soft gasp passes your lips.

“I didn’t mean to touch there,” he whispers against the sensitive spot. His large hands continue to rub your back as you hold him close. His breath keeps hitting the sensitive side of your neck turning you on. He’s managing to get you wet without trying.

Without thinking you grind your hips forward hoping for some sort of friction.

A soft moan passes your lips. “Does someone like it when I’m close to her neck?” He says with his lips ghosting your sensitive spot.

“Fuck-“

“You know we’re away from anyone who can see. We’re behind a building facing a forrest.” You know exactly what he’s insinuating. And at the moment you don’t care that you could possibly get caught. You just want Wonwoo to fuck you.

“Baby,” you whimper. With his fingers tangled in your hair he walks you back to the brick wall behind you. His hands protect your head and he gently pushes you against the wall.

“Are you going fuck me against this wall?”

He swallows staring at you with lust filled eyes, “fuck I want to.”

“What happened to your breeding kink being your only thing that makes you kinky?” You tease.

“Does it me fucking you against this wall make me kinky?”

“I think so,” you smile.

“Also it’s not a breeding kink.” He says between kisses against your jaw.

“You’re obsessed with cumming inside me.” You give him a smile.

“I’m not trying to get you pregnant though?” His eyes narrow at you.

“We can agree to disagree,” you crash your lips into his once again.

Pulling away from you he makes quick work by pushing off your joggers. He unbuckled belt and pushes down his jeans and boxers just below his ass. His hard cock slaps against his stomach. If you weren’t out in broad daylight you would get down on your knees and suck the life out of him.

“Are you going to leave my underwear on?” You notice that he left you in your pink thong.

“Pull it to the side for me,” he says as he pumps himself a few times.

“Are we going to talk about your lingerie kink?” You have no problem with him fucking you while you’re still wearing your panties. It actually turns you on to for some reason. Maybe you also have a lingerie kink.

“You’re being extra sassy today,” he steps closer, lifting your leg.

“What can I say I get turned on when you get flustered.” You pull your panties to the sides.

He thrust into you causing a gasp to pass your lips.

Pressed up against the wall he has your leg under his arm. This isn’t the easiest angle to work with, but he’s not gonna let it stop him. In the two years you’ve been together you’ve never had sex outdoors like this where someone could see you if they went behind the buildings where the alley was. You’ve definitely had a sex in the back seat of Wonwoo’s car before, but that’s different from this. Something about this turns you on more than you ever thought it could. The angle he’s thrusting into you has his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit.

Your head leans back resting against the brick wall taking in the sensation. Leaning forward you sloppily kiss him. His thrusts are quicker than normal. Ramming up into you over and over. You’re pretty sure he’s nudging your cervix with each thrust. Covering your mouth you try your hardest not scream his name. You might be alone out here, but if people hear you screaming and moaning they might come see what is happening.

“Fuck-“ you whimper.

“You feel tighter than normal,” he moans. Your hand talons into his shoulder holding on to him for dear life. The way he’s thrusting into you hitting the perfect spot has your toes curling. His pelvis continues to rub your clit leaving you gasping.

The sound of the echoing rain is helping to drown out your moans. You can’t keep quiet.

“I’m close,” you whine.

“Please come with,” he moans.

A white hot wave washes over you. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair pulling him closer to you. He paints your walls white and continues to slowly thrust up into you riding out his high. His lips are leaving sloppy kisses against the sensitive skin in your neck.

“I don’t have anything to clean you up with,” he says softly as he’s still snug inside you.

“It’s okay it’s not the first I’m going to be walking around with you cum inside me.” You’ve had sex a handful times in bathrooms at parties the boys have thrown leaving you in this same predicament.

“We can take a hot shower when we get back to your place and I’ll clean you up.”

-

The rain finally let up and after an hour of huddling against Wonwoo and talking it was finally safe to ride back to your apartment.

He kept his word and the moment you were inside he dragged you off to take a hot shower together.

You shower couldn’t even start innocently. The moment the water was warm enough you were on your knees in front of him. He gently held your hair away from your face as your took him in your mouth as much as he would fit. You hand rest on his thigh while the other plays with his balls. You know exactly what to do to make him fall apart quickly.

You look up at him through your lashes. He looks beautiful in his lust filled haze. “Baby pull off if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth,” he moans.

You continue your motion. You were never a fan of giving someone head let alone swallowing before you met him. Now going down on him is one of your favorite things to do. Glancing up and looking for see his stomach muscles tighten letting you know he’s on the brink. His grip on your hair tightens and he moans your name loudly. He fills your mouth with his salty release. You release him from your mouth with a pop. Without a second thought you swallow everything he gave you.

He helps you to your feet and crashes his lips into yours not caring if he taste himself on you. He holds your face with both hands.

“I love you so much,” he says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

“Let me clean you up and wash your hair.”

He keeps his promise from the alley and cleans your body before he’s standing behind you massaging your strawberry shampoo into your hair.

“Wonwoo would you ever think about moving out of your apartment with Mingyu?” You asked him the question that has been on your mind for a while.

“It depends, are you asking me to move in with you?” His fingers are still massaging your scalp.

“I mean I live alone and we could set your computer up in my small office. I don’t mind working in the kitchen when I get to work from home.” This feels odd you aren’t facing each other while you’re having this conversation. You didn’t plan on talking about this in the shower but this has been constantly on your mind.

“Have you been thinking about this a lot?” It’s almost as if he can read your mind. “Baby turn around and rinse your hair.”

Stepping away from him you let the warm water wash the shampoo away from your hair. “Well yeah. Also don’t you feel like at some point Mingyu is going to want to live with his girlfriend?” You work on getting the shampoo out of your hair.

“Probably.” He seems so calm.

“Do you not want to move in now? We could always discuss this later.” You suddenly feel anxious that he’s not ready. Maybe you’re thinking too far ahead. You step out from the water and step closer to him where he’s holding your conditioner.

He gives you a smile pushing some wet hair behind your ear. “Baby, of course I want to move in with you. It would be nice for us to have a place just for us.”

“Okay I would like for us to live together,” you smile.

“Does that mean we always get to sleep naked?” He gives you a goofy smile. Of course that’s one of his first questions.

“Of course. Does that mean I’m going to wake up to you fucking me all the time?” You gave permission to Wonwoo very early on in your relationship that if wanted to start having sex with you while you’re asleep he can. There isn’t anything quite like waking up to him pushing into you from behind while you sleep.

“Obviously, now turn around so I can finish your hair.”

Things with Wonwoo are always easy. For some reason they always have been. He’s your person, it’s almost as if you were made for each other. You’re excited for your next step in your relationship and you can’t wait to see what the future holds.

[yameoto]

MINDRAPE! CATE DUNLAP.

synopsis; she can make you do whatever she wants. fill in the blanks. (and hey, it's not kidnapping if you walked in there and chained yourself up. right?)

✗ warnings; dark!cate, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fauxjob, strapfucking wc; 2k

IT’S not kidnapping. at least, not if you think about it. after all, sweet nothings whispered in your ear or not—at the end of the day—you’re the one who shackled yourself to a bolt-locked barstool at the ninety-ninth story of vought tower. at least, that's what cate tells you—and what cate tells you, you breathe like law.

it's okay. you don’t have to think about it. that’s not what you’re good for, anyways.

an eternity passes before she arrives. it’s torture. because while cate may be a crazy, manipulative, psycho bitch who keeps you bound to her kitchen stool almost 24/7 (with rope-burns around your ankles and wrists, to prove it), between her and boredom? the latter is more likely to kill you. so, ineffably, relief washes over you at the sound of the mechanical lock unclicking. heels clinking against marble. your mind goes a little fuzzy around the edges, too. a defense mechanism, or her own design—you don't know. will never know.

cate. cate. you hate her. you've missed her. you can’t live without her. (or, alternatively; you love her you love her you love her).

she leans down to pet your hair like you're some sort of house-pet. god. aren’t you? “untie yourself." she orders, voice, airy and familiar—and your body simply does. she likes you undone. she likes that its you doing the doing and undoing. yes, this is your fault. you brought yourself here. you did this to yourself.

even when you untie your restraints, you can't bring yourself to move. the tiles are cold against your knees.

vought lets her keep you. a plaything under surveillance is better than letting her run amok (though most of the footage she keeps for herself. she likes watching it back. likes making you watch it back, as she keeps you on her lap and fucks the brains out of your skull). as long as she keeps it clean. airtight. under lock and key.

perhaps, she took the statement too literally.

cate flounces to the couch, one leg slung gracefully over the other. she smiles, fingers beckoning you over. at your hesitance, she cocks her head, eyebrow arching warningly. she twitches her fingers, once, and it’s enough to make you squirm. "don't make me make you."

cate always speaks like that—slow, lethal. like the languid swell of blood beading from a papercut. her nails graze underside your jaw, delicate, teetering on the razor’s edge between petting your scruff or slicing your throat. effectively cowed, you crawl, keening timidly at the purred "good girl." that follows. her hand curls in your hair, deceptively gentle.

“legs, open.” her voice is like spidersilk, and even in its’ gentleness your body reacts to its steely underbelly—how it drains the will out of your body, and how it stretches your legs as wide as they might go. “sit.” there’s a beat of hesitance. the floor? the sofa? her lap? misinterpretation begets punishment, and you're so, adorably afraid. so of course, you glance back up at her, wavering, waiting for further instruction. her smile widens, head tilting, like she knows. of course she knows.

god, how precious you are. her sweet thing. can’t even think for yourself, anymore. sometimes, when cate tunes in to the thoughts swirling in your head—there's nothing. no more escape plans that might as well be scrabbling at the walls, or god forbid, droll, suicidal ideations that are more bored meanderings rather than serious attempts. all she hears, nowadays, is blissful, beautiful static.

for a brief moment, she lets you stew in your rising panic; at the near insurmountable feat of choosing something for yourself, as simple as deciding where to sit, until cate savours enough of the frantic flickering of your pupils and the delicious, furtive pound of your heartbeat until she grants you a small mercy. "the table, baby." she clarifies, tone just a smidge smug, and in an instant, you sit your plush ass against the glass coffee table. cate marvels, not for the first time, just how empty she's made that pretty little head of yours.

“take it out.” she breathes, into your ear, and the order is so familiar you don't need further clarification, hands whipping upwards to unbutton the fly of cate’s jeans. cate sinks back into the couch, hum almost playful as you struggle to pull the fabric down, with her thighs pinned against the cushions. she enjoys, watching, in silent amusement—before canting her hips upwards lazily, to help you along. allows you to peel back fabric and let the bulge packing in her crotch spring free.

your eyes widen, smacked in the jaw by hot-pink silicone. it’s larger than normal. the one that hurts. your ensuing whimper makes something hot and heavy wrench in cate’s gut. it's a shame, that you don't even know what you do to her.

"c'mon," cate's head tilts as her eyes bore into yours, arms languidly draped over the couch’s armrests. the dry tip of the dildo bobs into your mouth, your lips wrapping around it. so good, so obedient for her. "make it wet for me, baby."

the order sends a hot flush to your ears. you suck, tongue wrapping against the underside as your pretty pink porno lips glisten with your own saliva, taking her deeper and deeper, cheeks rushing with blood.

“look at you. drooling over my dick.” cate purrs, and your head jerks, downwards in its haste to obey, and you gag in the process, choking on silicone. cate laughs, and you’re all embarrassed and needy because your it’s true. your ass, squashed up humiliatingly against the glass. cunt leaking, smearing with each movement of your thighs, and there’ll be an imprint when you get up. if she lets you get up.

you’re still suckling, tip bobbing in your throat as you bite back splutters like an obedient thing, when cate’s apparently had enough. she shoves you, back flat against the glass. in doing so, the dildo slips from your mouth, and you let slip a confused, befuddled whine as your body screeches at you to take it back in. to follow that single, all-consuming command. simple creature, you. you try to sit upright, before a hand shoots around your throat. thrusts you back down, roughly, head knocking against glass.

“don’t move.” cate hisses, grasp tightening. it locks your limbs, just like that. when you fall limp, she hums, pleased, lowering herself between legs.

she kisses your inner thigh. everything in you aches to squirm, but can’t, not ever—limbs heavy with the weight of cate’s whims. her head tilts, lips jutted out in that sweet, innocuous pout as she drags up your skin. doe eyes blown wide, imploring as if she hasn't broken you, so completely and so utterly.

she dives inwards, tongue lashing up against your clit, and it hurts not to move as she peers up between your thighs. apparently, you can cry and moan as much as you want, though, and god, do you. it's purposeful. she loves to hear the noises. cate can’t smirk, not with the way her mouth is preoccupied with the hot, painful pulse of your cunt. tongue darting out and flicking in delicate licks, like a kitten lapping at milk. she doesn’t need to; the smug, knowing gleam in her eyes is gloating enough.

“mommy, please.” you gasp, like a needy little brat, hips shuddering upwards as the urge for more throbs upwards from between your legs and fuzzes your brain. cate grins in delight.

"mommy, huh?" she echoes, almost wolfish. her fingers are quick to grasp your jaw. she squeezes, angling your jaw as if inspecting a prized animal. "god. i didn't even make you say that." her eyes blaze as they scour over your body. like she’s appraising you in a new light; the way you melt, so pliant in her hands, her words. the way you mould to fit her every need without her having to lift a finger—in every sense of the word.

abruptly, her hands dig into your thighs and she orders, low and soft “flip over,” and you do. ass perked high in the air, back arched and your pussy wet with want that’s not yours, but drips obscenely from your spitsoaked folds onto the glass, like something filthy, nonetheless. cate’s breath hitches from behind, hand smoothing over the curve of your ass. briefly reverent. before her hand comes down to pinch and twist flesh, of course.

“spread yourself open,” she demands, and you can feel plastic brush against your inner thigh. obeying is almost too smooth, despite the shiver that trickles down your spine, fingers stretching your cunt open.

she slaps your cunt, hard. you cry out, clit swollen and pussy pulsing with need. “wider.” she grits, as if irritated, but you can hear the delight underneath there, as your knees bend lower, thighs spreading impossibly wider, fingers trembling with the force in which you splay yourself out, pussy glistening under the light.

god, how gorgeous you are, on display for her. her adorable little showpony. cate laughs, and you hear the snap of a phone, clicking. you open your mouth, lips reddened, bitten raw—

she shoves the dildo into your waiting cunt, and you scream.

“ah. guess i haven’t loosened you enough, yet,” cate observes as she pumps at a leisurely pace, disappointment veiling the self-satisfaction in her tone. the anguished noises you make, with each violent thrust of her hips. the way you cry out, eyes flying open, walls straining against the girth of it, stretching your stomach, thighs wobbling in the effort just to keep yourself upright.

cate forces herself in, making room you didn’t even know you had. her teeth are sharp as she nips in your ear, hips plunging in agonisingly slow motions as she pushes through your cunt's delicious, masochistic resistance. everything in you aches to writhe, to thrash, to throw yourself off this fucking table and hurl yourself down the ninety-nine storey, floor-to-ceiling windows, and yet you can’t even lift a fucking finger. a bee, drowning in its own honey.

cate almost yawns. her hand pinches the flesh of your ass. “god, this is too much work..” cate sighs, hand idly twirling a strand of your hair, and she yanks it back the same time she jams herself, inside, skin flush against skin. she grins, lazy. “mm. do it for me.”

mindlessly, you let out a hopeless whine, and then you’re fucking yourself back on cate's cock. she's not even moving. stilling to idle motionless as her hand twines in your hair, strap cinched low on her waist as your hips rock, panting with effort as you slam yourself back against plastic, again, and again. lips parted, tears a comforting burn behind glazed-over eyes. it’s not only her words compelling you. to snap your hips back with increasing ferocity, pounding yourself—deeper, and deeper. how you gasp, eyes rolling back into your skull when the tip buries itself deep enough in your tight, hot pussy to make your cum splatter against glass, knees slippery with fluid, and yet—you can’t stop, still. weakly pulsing around plastic as your hips keep moving, walls keep swallowing silicone and spitting it back out again, even as your limbs buckle with exhaustion and your cunt sears—

she’s made you into nothing. nothing but goo on her coffee table, mindless and bathing in a puddle of your own fluids.

finally, when cate’s had her view of the pretty, pathetic sight you make—she touches your shoulder, and simply says, “enough.”

you pull yourself out, slumping on the glass table, a weak thing. cate regards you, for a moment, pussy still dribbling cum, forming a pool under your thighs like melted ice cream. still, you can’t move. arms like lead, tongue lolling out—a beaten puppy.

she kisses your vacant, empty head, lips moving against skin. “tie yourself back up after i go, hm?” and then, she hops off the table.

the door clicks shut, and you tie yourself back up again. the slick dries cold between your thighs.

[caitified]

Caitlin x reader where reader is a physio in training with the fever?

physio

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none! sorry for my absence.

i kind of want to do a part 2 of this where caitlin gets slightly injured and reader takes care of her. lmk what you think

it was caitlin’s first official day with the indiana fever. she walked into the training facility with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, trying to hide the mix of nerves and excitement she felt. the fever locker room wasn’t as intimidating as she’d expected, but everything still felt new – new team, new city, new start.

as she headed down the hall, she spotted you in the physical therapy room, organizing equipment with a calm focus. she hadn’t even met you yet, but something about you immediately caught her attention. maybe it was the way you moved so purposefully, or the easy way you smiled when you noticed her standing in the doorway.

“hey, you must be caitlin,” you said, extending a hand with a friendly smile. “i’m [y/n]. i’m the team’s physical therapist.”

caitlin shook your hand, noticing the warmth of your touch, and couldn’t help the way her stomach did a little flip. “yeah, that’s me. it’s…really nice to meet you,” she managed, maybe a bit too eagerly.

you chuckled softly, motioning for her to sit on the table. “let’s get you checked out, make sure you’re ready to hit the court.”

over the next few weeks, caitlin found herself coming up with excuses to visit the therapy room more often than necessary. she’d claim her ankle felt a little off or that her shoulder was bothering her, all in the hopes of spending a few extra minutes with you. she’d tell herself it was just to get to know the team, but katie lou and lexie quickly saw through her excuses.

“you know, most of us don’t need this much ‘maintenance,’” katie lou teased one afternoon, nudging caitlin as they walked to practice. “pretty sure you’re the healthiest rookie we’ve ever had.”

caitlin rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept over her cheeks. “just trying to be careful, that’s all.”

it wasn’t long before you started picking up on her pattern, too. one afternoon, when she came in yet again with a vague complaint about her knee, you just raised an eyebrow at her.

“really, clark? again?” you asked, trying to hide the amusement in your voice.

she hesitated, caught off guard by your directness. “uh, well… yeah. just, you know, making sure everything’s good.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “you know, you don’t need to pretend to be injured to talk to me.”

caitlin’s eyes widened a bit, and she looked down, rubbing the back of her neck. “oh. i mean, i wasn’t–” she stopped, realizing she was caught. “okay, maybe a little.”

you smiled, taking a small step closer. “so why don’t you just ask me out? save yourself all these fake injury excuses?”

caitlin’s breath hitched, surprised by your boldness but grateful you’d made the first move. “you’d really say yes?”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. “i might. but only if you promise to keep the injuries real.”

and from that moment, things shifted between you. you started seeing each other outside of the facility, grabbing coffee after practices and spending late nights getting to know each other. soon, what had started as shy glances and playful excuses turned into something real.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

dating caitlin felt like a dream, especially with the quiet, stolen moments you managed to squeeze into busy schedules. after practice, she’d sometimes find you waiting by the therapy room, her heart doing that familiar flip at the sight of your smile.

“hey, you up for grabbing a bite?” she’d ask, slipping her hand in yours once the two of you were far enough from the facility. at first, you’d both been careful, cautious about being seen together too much, but as the weeks passed, caitlin grew bolder.

one night after a game, you were hanging out in her apartment, both sprawled on the couch, unwinding from the rush of her latest win. she was recounting the highlight of her night, the way she’d hit that last three-pointer, her voice full of excitement as she gestured animatedly.

“i swear, when it left my hand, i just knew it was going in,” she laughed, eyes bright. “the whole crowd went nuts.”

you grinned, watching her, amused by her excitement. “yeah, i saw – i think you almost took out the ref when you celebrated.”

“worth it,” she said, laughing. she shifted a little closer, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. “but the best part of the night?” she paused, looking into your eyes, a little softer now. “seeing you waiting for me after the game.”

you felt your heart skip a beat as she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a slow, gentle kiss that felt like coming home. you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the steady thump of her heartbeat under your fingers.

just as things were getting comfortable, caitlin’s phone lit up on the coffee table, a notification from the team group chat. she groaned, reluctantly pulling away to check it, but couldn’t help laughing when she saw the message from katie lou.

“don’t be late to practice tomorrow, lover girl. and yes, we know you’re still with her.”

caitlin rolled her eyes, showing you the screen. “they’re relentless, you know?”

you laughed, snuggling closer. “i mean, we’re not exactly subtle. not with the way you keep trying to sneak glances at me during warm-ups.”

she grinned, her hand tracing gentle circles on your back. “can’t help it. you’re a distraction.”

your smile softened, and you tilted your head up to look at her. “good thing i’m dating a pro, then. thought you were supposed to have focus.”

“oh, i’m focused, alright.” caitlin’s gaze grew more intense, and her voice lowered as she leaned in again. “focused on you.”

the rest of the night passed in easy conversation and laughter, the kind of effortless connection that had come so naturally from the start. with every passing day, caitlin grew more comfortable being with you, letting her teammates’ teasing roll off her back as she spent more time with you – coffee dates, late-night drives, shared laughter over takeout in her apartment.

soon enough, everyone knew. but caitlin didn’t care. for the first time, she was completely herself with someone, and every time you looked at her with that soft smile, she knew it was worth it.

thanks for reading! again thanks for being patient. i NEED more requests im not super inspired. 💜

[imaginaryf1shots]

School Vigilante Pt.2 | Oscar Piastri

WC: 4062

Oscar x Childhood!friend!reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You and Oscar finally reconnect after years of not seeing each other, also School reunion

Warning: Fighting, cursing?

Part 1

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

Oscar hesitates, taking a small step your way. You smile and walk his way; your arms open for him, and he then doesn’t hesitate after that. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in. You laugh almost not believing it.

“Oh, my fucking god Oscar, it’s been so long.” You say and he just holds you tighter.

“Too long.” Oscar says, and he reluctantly let’s go of you. Your smile makes him smile. He remembers how hard it was to get you to genuinely smile in school, but here you are now all smiley. You both just stare at the other for a moment, taking in all the changes, and everything that stayed the same. Lando coughs on the side and the moment is broke, Oscar looks at his teammate and raises an eyebrow. “You know you brought a Red Bull athlete into our motorhome, right?”

Lando groans and throws his head back. “Don’t remind me.”

It was only after the Free Practices that you and Oscar are able to meet up. You had to spend the time in the Red Bull garage, you agreed to meet by the McLaren motorhome. And when Oscar comes out he sees you waiting for him there.

“You know it’s unbelievable that we haven’t share our phone numbers yet.” Oscar says coming up to you, he kept thinking about how he wouldn’t find you, how that was it, the logical part said that he now knows you’re friends with Lilly and could get your number from her. All that didn’t matter though because here you are, waiting for him.

“Is that your way of asking me for my number?” You tease him and a slight flush covers his cheeks, before he sheepishly nods. “Give me your phone then.”

You both exchange your phones and put in your numbers.

Oscar goes back to his hotel to change, and you meet him there later in one of the dinning rooms. You share a quick hug when you meet again before settling down and ordering.

“You know I told you, you’d make it to Formula 1.” You say with a grin, Oscar can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, was a bit rocky start but I still can’t believe it sometimes.” He tells you.

“I’m sure with the whole Alpine thing.” Oscar looks surprised that you knew about it. “Didn’t think I’d keep up with what you’re up to?”

“Not really.”

“Best rookie in F1 history after Lewis Hamilton?” You say feeling proud of him.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Oscar then turns the conversation towards you. “What about you? signed by Red Bull, in TWO sports and being a world champion in one and coming up second in the other.”

You shrug and play with the napkin, feeling embarrassed yourself that the conversation turned to you. “Not as big of a deal as driving for Formula 1.”

“I beg to differ, not many cared about Formula 1 until a few years ago, didn’t make it any less amazing, same with you.” Oscar wouldn’t have you doubting how amazing you are.

The food comes and you talk about everything and anything all while eating. The conversations and the laughs flowed easily. As if time didn’t pass from the moment, you stopped talking all those years ago.

Sadly, the night had to come to an end, Oscar had FP3 and Quali the next day and he had to rest as much as possible.

“I have a week off, after Japan.” Oscar throws out there, he’s going to take the chance and just ask you out, like he should’ve all those years ago. “Are you free?”

“I am, what country are you going to be in?”

“The UK.”

“Hmm, I can make it.”

“So, you’ll go on a date with me.”

“Of course.” You’re both a smiling mess, happy to have finally taken another step in your relationship.

It wasn’t just one date; it was multiple dates. It was tricky to juggle both your schedules, two athletes in the middle of their seasons. But you best face time was on whenever you could. You were there in Hungary when Oscar got his first win, the relationship was still fresh so you both decided to keep it on the low. You got to celebrate with him after. There were lots of hugs and kisses involved, because no matter what anyone says, he deserved that win and no one could take it away from him.

You did meet his family in Singapore, they were all so welcoming and nice. His mum scolded you for putting yourself in danger all those years ago, even if you’re trained and it was to save her son. His sisters thought you’re so cool for it.

They looked you up online and saw videos of what you do.

“You know I tried DM-ed you when you got signed by McLaren.” You told him one day, you were at your house, chilling.

“Really?” Oscar frowned and took out his phone, opening his Instagram, he clicked on your name and then opened the messages and saw that you did in fact text him. “I didn’t see that at all.”

“It’s understandable.” You tell him, not feeling offended, you’ve seen how his DMs could look like. “But I was so proud of you, and I still am.”

“Thank you, you always believed I’d make it to Formula 1.” Oscar looked at you, his hand resting on your knee. You were siting on the small sofa, tilted to face each other, your leg was tucked under your butt, resting on his thigh, while the other was placed on the ground. Now Oscar was rubbing your knee, and you were close together, a whisper would be heard clearly between the two of you.

“That means, I’m always right.” You tease him and smile; Oscar returns the smile.

“I don’t mind you always being right.” Oscar said and you giggled. “You know, I had the biggest crush on you when we were in school.”

“Well, I also had the biggest crush on you.” You admit both of you blushing.

“I flet like you had no interest in me, whatsoever.” Oscar says frowning.

“You did have the biggest fan club in school, I didn’t want you thinking I was one of them.” You tell him the truth, now that you’re together, there was no shame in saying that. “But now, I’m your biggest fan.”

“I guess you are.” You don’t know when he got this close, but his face is so close to you, you could feel his breath on your skin. Oscar doesn’t hesitate to lean in and place his lips on yours. It’s not your first kiss, but he always leaves you breathless.

Red Bull invited you back to the paddock to film more content, since people loved you with Max in the first one. This time it would be a bigger production. They had you come in and get dressed in Assassin’s Creed-esk outfit. They sat up everything for the filming. You walked through the plan with the director of the video and what they had in mind.

“Can you do that?” Checo who was standing next to you with a Red bull in his hand asked.

You gave him a fake offended look. “I’ll manage.”

“No wires, right?” The director double checked, and you nodded with a confident smile.

“No wires.”

It was really simple, the scene began with you on top of the Red Bull Pit wall, they filmed you as if you’re looking around for something. Before you saw it, you flipped off the building and landed on your feet crouched down, before you ran to the fence climbed it easily. While holding the top of the fence you flipped yourself over it and climbed down, there were the two Red Bull cars waiting for you. They had  a few obstacles waiting for you, that you jumped over or under, the last one was a tall almost a wall, you were on top before you flipped twice in the air and landed in a super hero pose, right in between the cars. And looked up to the camera, the cape they had clipped to your face, threw enough shadow to show the bottom half of face, and you were smirking. The add ended with you in the car drinking Red Bull, with your cape off, and driving away in the car.

You off course didn’t drive the car, but that’s the power of editing.

It took a few takes for the director to take the shots that he wanted. It had to all be done fast, before the paddock got super busy. It was early on media day, but some teams were already present, and fans were filling up.

Oscar made it so he could come early and watch you. A camera crew from F1TV was present to film some behind the scenes footage. And Oscar was caught staring at you with a smile. He was even seen taking a video of you from his spot behind the barrier they made so no one would walk into the filming space.

Later on when he was doing his media duties, he was asked about it.

“You seemed interested in the parkour ad Red Bull was filming, we got a few shots of you filming it.” The interviewer stated. Now you and Oscar started your relationship with wanting it to be private, but as the time went on, you both wanted to be there to cheer each other on, and it’s been 9 months already since you started dating. You’ve had talks about going public with it, so Oscar just took it in his hands.

“Yeah, it’s always amazing to see y/n, doing her things in real life.” Oscar knew he’d be asked more about it. He said your name so casually that it was obvious that he knew you.

“Oh, you know her?” The interviewer asked.

“I would like to think so, we’re dating.” That got the attention of everyone.

“Then if you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet, it seems a bit random. Was it when she came to Red Bull a few months ago?”

“No, we met in school.” Oscar laughed remembering how you met. “She saved me from a beating.”

“A beating? Could you elaborate?”

“Yeah, I was walking back to school late one day and I was jumped by 2 drunk guys, suddenly this person comes out of nowhere, dressed in all black, had a black hoodie, hat and face mask even. She kicked them around, a few times, threw a few punches and had them down on the ground long enough for us to escape. I didn’t know who it was, only that it was a girl, since I saw her hair, but that was it. It was later by accident that I knew it was her.”

“And is that when you started dating?” The interviewer was so intrigued by this point.

“No, we stayed friends, and the next year she moved schools, and we lost contact.” Oscar says, this is probably the most they had him talking in an interview ever. ��We got back in contact when she came to the Japan Grand Prix.”

“That’s a lovely story Oscar, we’re happy for you.”

“Thank you, I’m happy too.”

“Any reason as to why, my social media is blowing up with F1 followers?” You asked Oscar when you met him for lunch that day. “And I’m being called the coolest WAG ever?”

“I may have spilled that we are dating.” Oscar said apologetically.

“Thought so.” You wait for a moment, to make him feel a little pressure, before you smile. “Now, everyone knows you’re taken.”

“Me? Didn’t you see all those men watching you today?” Oscar tried to sound nonchalant, but it was clear he was feeling a bit jealous.

“Good thing I only like you then.” Oscar took your hand in his and smiled, happy, content.

Oscar won, he won fare and square, and no one could even say anything this time. He won and you were here to see it. Better yet, you were in Parc Ferma with his team. Oscar came running to his team and they hugged and pulled him. Oscar then took off his helmet and walked towards you. You threw your hands out waiting for him to walk in. Oscar didn’t wait, he pulled you as close as he could with the barrier between you, he pulled back just enough to plant a kiss to your lips. You help his cheek and smile though it.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You tell him not being able to stop smiling.

“Thank you.” With another kiss he was pulled way for weighing and interviews.

You’re on the bed in Oscar’s hotel room. When you get an email from your old school, you frown and open it. reading it you smile to yourself in amusement. Oscar is in the bathroom showering.

“You won’t believe what email, I just got.” You tell him and don’t wait for him to respond. “Our school just sent me an email for a reunion, I didn’t even graduate from there, and they sent me an email.”

“Yeah, but you were at the school for years.” Oscar says and you only then notice how he has the towel wrapped low on his waist. Your phone is placed beside you, and Oscar notices your eyes, he remembers the talk you had earlier to day and smirks. He turns around acting as if he’s looking for his clothes, giving you full view of his back and shoulders.

“Oscaaar.” You whine, knowing what he’s doing.

“What?” He asks nonchalant.

“You know what.” You get off the bed and wrap your arms around him, your front flushed to his back, hands on his abdomen, you’re not even sorry when you untuck his towel and it falls to the ground. Oscar sucks in a breath and turns around.

“So are we going?” You ask, still a little breathless, your head was on his shoulder, while his arms wrapped around your waist, skin on skin.

“What?” Oscar asks confused.

“To the reunion.”

“Oh, yeah, why not.”

There was an option for people to go early a couple days and have dinner together before the big thing. Since you and Oscar had that time off you decided to go, Oscar wanted to meet his friend from school anyways.

You shared the same hotel and everything. Since you and Oscar arrived and sat together, you had no idea how no one clocked that you’re together. You both weren’t big on PDA but a person can read the room. It didn’t bother you much anyways.

A long table was sat up from all of you to sit, Oscar saved the seat next to him for his friend, but in front of him sat Saddie. You both didn’t pay her any mind, since you didn’t have friends, Oscar included you in the conversation with his friend, before a girl sat next to you. She asked you your name and that got you both talking. You weren’t friends in school, but people change, and you found that if she was like that back in school you would’ve been friends, not that she was a bad person or anything, just some people don’t mesh well together.

“So Oscar how are you?” Saddie suddenly asks, she was obnoxiously loud, gaining the attention of everyone around her, she patted her mascara caked lashes a few times.

“I’m good.” He said not knowing why she’s talking to him.

“You’re not going to ask about how I’m doing?” She pouted and rested her chin on her hand. “I did save you.”

That got a few people talking, Oscar glanced at you, and you shook your head. You don’t mind that everyone still believes she saved Oscar.

“Uh, that was so long ago.” Oscar stated not really wanting to engage with her.

“Come on Oscar, she still saved you.” One guy a few seats down said, other chimed in.

“Doesn’t matter how long ago it was.”

“Who knows where you’d be if it weren’t for her.”

It was clear that Oscar wasn’t going to say anything. He isn’t one to fall victim to peer-pressure.

“Come on guys, leave him be, he’s got so much on his mind, now that he’s a formula 1 driver and all that.” Saddie lets out a fake giggle and BLINKED again.

When everyone ate and moved a bit around, you went to the restroom. Saddie walks up to Oscar swinging her hips left and right, not that Oscar noticed. She walks in on the conversation he was having and giggles. Oscar and two guys he was talking to all looked at her a little weirded out.

“So Oscar have you been thinking about me at all?” Saddie asked and placed her hand on his bicep. “Wow, you must really work out.”

“Uh.” Oscar was clearly uncomfortable, he took a step back, making her hand fall to her side.

“You don’t have to act all shy with me, after all we have history.” Saddie said and Oscar’s eyes went wide.

“H-history? We don’t!” Oscar hoped you didn’t hear what she said and believed her, but he couldn’t see you.

“I mean about me saving you.” She laughs a very fake and ‘seductive’ laugh. “You have a dirty mind, but I don’t care, means you’re thinking about me.”

Oscar looked at the two guys wanting them to save him, they all just laughed at his predicament. Just then his phone went off and he knew instantly who it was. He picked up the phone and answered walking away from the group.

“Hello.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m heading out.” You stayed on the line but said nothing. Oscar found you by the car, he went straight to you and pulled you in for a hug. “God, you saved me again.”

“Looked like you needed it, and I’m tired of Saddie, she’s pissing me off.” You said and Oscar kissed your cheek before opening the door for you. “What did she want now anyways?” You asked once you were both in the car and settled.

“Just bullshit, said we had history and if I think about her.” Oscar didn’t really want to tell you, but he’s honest he doesn’t like the idea of you two hiding things from each other.

“I suddenly don’t like the idea of us coming.” You tell Oscar honestly, you’re irritated and you’re protective, you saw and can still see how uncomfortable this all made Oscar.

“We don’t have to go tomorrow.” Oscar tells you and puts his hand on your knee. You think it over for a second.

“No, we should go and show them we’re together and maybe finally say the truth.” You take his hand in yours and he takes it to his lips and places a kiss on the back on your hand.

“I already told the media, it’s about time they all know it too.”

The next day you and Oscar dress to impress, not anyone really but you love dressing up, and Oscar does what you want.

“You look beautiful.” Oscar said hugging you from behind, you leaned back into him. He kisses the side of your head. You’re looking at each other in the mirror.

“And you look handsome… wait! Let’s take a picture.” You get out of his arms long enough to get your phone, you’re back in his arms and you snap a few photos before you head out for the night.

Walking into the venue you’re holding hands, there’s no mistaking your relationship now. A few people turn their heads and talk, and you know they haven’t matured at all since they left school. You and Oscar smile at each other.

You walk up to one of the tables sat aside both placing the name tags for the other. You start mingling and some ask you about your relationship and you confirm that you are dating.

Saddie came “fashionably” late, strutting in as if she’s walking on a runway. She was pulled aside by one of her friends and was told about the ‘new’ development between you and Oscar. Her face turned red; she felt betrayed.

She walked towards you two, while you were laughing at a story Oscar told you.

“Oscar and y-y/n is it?” she clearly knew your name but acted as if she’s trying to remember it, and it was on your name tag as well.

“Yes, hi, we never talked before.” You replied with a sickly-sweet tone and a smile. “But I believe you’ve been very talkative with my boyfriend.”

“So, it’s true then, you’re dating.” She glares at you, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Yes.” Oscar said and wrapped a hand around your waist, giving you a smile that you returned. You heard her scoff, making you both look at her.

“B-but how? And since when?” It seemed like Saddie couldn’t take a hint; her face got red with agitation.

“Hm, well we started talking in school after she saved me-“

“Saved you?! I saved you! why are you always denying it?” Saddie cuts Oscar off her voice rising, more heads turned to face your group, the talk began.

“Not true.” You told her, your gaze cold and unforgiving. “I helped him, not you.”

“YOU? You, goody two shoes? You were out of campus after hours?”

“Yes, me, and you’re a liar.” Your tone didn’t waver or fill with any emotions.

“You bitch!” Your hand on Oscar is what stopped him from moving or saying anything. “I know what happened that night, how would I know that. Huh?”

“We asked ourselves the same thing.” Oscar said. “Only explanation is you knew the guys who tried to attack me.”

“No!” She answered to fast, and her eyes went to the people around, it was clear she was lying. “I-I didn’t, I don’t. Stop lying.”

As a way of distraction, she tried to lunge for you, but you just side stepped her last second, and with her very high heels she tripped and fell.

“Unless you lost the ‘training’ you had all those years ago, you’re not the one that helped Oscar.” You say and crouch down beside her, she’s slowly getting up, there’s blood coming from her mouth, looks like she cut her lip and broke a tooth. “Also don’t you date touch or talk to my boyfriend again, if you know what’s good for you.”

She tried to lunge for you, but you were already up and walking away, once she stood up and tried to walk towards you, she crumbled again clutching her ankle. No one moved to help her, all her ‘friends’ are now ashamed of her for her involvement with the group responsible for attacking Oscar.

“Let’s go.” Oscar said and took your hand in his, you left the party, not sparing anyone another glance. Oscar didn’t let go of you, you walked around the campus, went to where you used to train, before Oscar took you outside. You weren’t really paying attention, just enjoying having Oscar with you, your hand in his, and the night breeze.

Oscar then stopped you looked up at him, only to find him already staring at you.

“This is it.”

“What?” You asked confused, you had no idea what he was talking about.

“This is where we first met.” Oscar says and you look around.

“It is.” Your eyes go back to Oscar, and you smile.

“You know, I believe out lives changed that day.” Oscar admits taking both of your hands in his. “You didn’t just save me, you changed me life, I’m thankful every day that I came late, and that everything went the way it did, because then I met you, I got to know you, and now I love you.”

“Oscar.” You felt emotional. “I love you too, and I’m also very thankful and grateful that I was out that day, meeting you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You couldn’t take it anymore and just hugged him, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. Your bodies flushed together, you only lean your heads back to share a kiss, right where you first met, and where everything began.

Main Taglist: @gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life . @a-beaverhausen

[moonchildreads]

don't you know what the night can do?

summary: you call for help in the middle of the night and eddie comes to your rescue

pairing: best friend!eddie x reader

tags/warnings: mdni. technically a college au? depression, abusive relationship (not eddie, he's a sweetie), talks of potential homelessness, no SA happens but eddie thinks it did for a second before it's cleared up (again, it does NOT happen, but since it could be triggering consider this your warning), hurt/comfort, happy ending!

wc: 2.8k

a/n: i was supposed to post this yesterday but upon rereading it i realised it was me trauma dumping so i rewrote a significant portion of this to make it into it's own thing. i hope it brings you as much comfort for you as it did for me, and if you are in a situation like reader is, please seek help. i believe in you and i am rooting for you 🖤

Now's the time when it's down to me and you Spread these wings, we'll be flying

It’s already late when the phone rings and he’s immediately shoving his feet into his sneakers, rushing out the door of his apartment and into his van. It’s even more late when he parks across the street and decides against waking your entire building up by ringing your doorbell. Hurriedly, he searches his glove box for that little spare key you gave him for emergencies - the one that has a big metal ring and a tiny plastic tab with your name on it. He lets himself in, the storm outside in the sky and inside your head getting worse and worse every second that ticks by.

Eddie finds you slumped against the small table where your phone rests, the receiver still in your hand, and he knows. He knows something terrible has happened and it doesn’t matter that he’s been anticipating it ever since you told him you’d begun dating that asshole classmate of yours because nothing could have prevented his heart from shattering the moment he sees you.

You’re a lifeless looking doll, devoid of any emotion and feeling. He’d fear you’re actually dead if he couldn’t see your chest rising and falling slowly.

“Sweetheart?” he says, lowering himself to where you’re sitting and trying not to spook you. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” you say, almost surprised when his eyes come into view. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, baby, of course I’m here,” he shuffles closer to you, but still doesn’t touch you.

Eddie swears he can still feel your arms around his neck sometimes, how your hands always used to find his, and how your legs would tangle on the couch all the time. You don’t like to be touched too much these days. He misses your warmth.

“Are you okay?” he repeats.

“Cold.”

“You’re cold? Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“NO!”

Your voice rings loud in the quiet apartment, your eyes locking with his in a fiery yet terrified stare. What are you so afraid of? Eddie takes in your appearance and it’s clear that you’ve been crying, though he doesn’t really understand why. He peers into the hallway that leads to your bedroom, searching for answers though he finds none.

“I- I’m sorry… I made a mess,” you explain, deflating once more. “I was upset and the sheets, they… they’re not on the bed anymore.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says. “We can put them back on.”

You afford him a movement that barely registers as a nod and he thinks he hasn’t seen duller eyes in his entire life, except for when he used to look into the mirror when he was younger. You shouldn’t feel like that, not if he can help it. He raises up onto his knees, still keeping his distance but signaling that it’s time to get up.

“It’s late, sweetheart. Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

“Can… can I get a hug first? Please?” you whisper, your face contorting into a pitiful sight.

Eddie doesn't say anything before he pulls you into a tight hug, his arms shielding you from anything and everything that might be trying to hurt you. He lets you bury yourself into him, lets you crawl underneath his skin and bones, become a part of his very soul and he holds you tighter whenever you exhale another heavy breath.

He waits and waits with his ass turning into ice on the harsh linoleum floor of your kitchenette area, and he doesn’t let go before you do because you once read to him that you should always hug kids until they let go first and he still hasn’t forgotten about it. A booming thunder shakes your windows and Eddie feels as though the storm has moved inside your home. You are no longer a kid, but right now you remind him too much of himself when he first went to live with Wayne, and so he keeps holding you until you pull away first.

"I really needed that, thank you," you smile up at him, but it doesn't reach your eyes. He takes it as a win anyways, because you haven’t smiled in a while and Eddie has always loved your smile.

"You can have as many hugs as you'd like, sweetheart. Why don't you go take a shower while I get your bed ready, huh? You can leave the door open if you want, I’ll be here."

You follow him into your hallway, eyes full of tears at his words. He might be the only person in the world that knows you better than you know yourself, and you don’t take that for granted. You take a hot shower and rub at your skin with your washcloth until it's raw and sensitive and cleansed, and when you come out wrapped in your fluffiest towel Eddie says nothing about the fact that when he walked into your bedroom, he could tell that you’d ripped your bed sheets off the mattress somewhere between a nervous fit and calling him in the middle of the night. There’s a new set, clean and smelling like your favorite fabric softener, and he’s laid out your most comfortable sleepwear at the end of your bed.

Eddie throws your used sheets into the washing machine and gets it started while you get changed, and when you're done you fish out a pair of his pajama pants and a shirt he left behind what feels like eons ago. He thanks you, almost surprised to see you have those clothes and it dawns on you that he doesn’t remember he gave them to you, because you haven't had one of the movie nights where he used to wear them in a while now. When you're both ready for bed, Eddie lifts your covers for you and tucks you in, laying next to you on top of the duvet.

"You can get in if you want," you say, and it's clear you want him to do it.

Eddie thinks he'll never be able to say no to you, so he gets in without you having to ask twice. You are quick to shift closer to him once he gets under the sheets and he takes the hint to put his arms around you, bringing your head to his shoulder and tangling his legs with yours. It’s been ages since he’s held you like this and he’s not going to start complaining about it now - not when you’re right back where you’ve always belonged.

"I have to move out by the end of the month," you mutter, starting to explain the night's events.

"That sucks. You’ve been house hunting yet?"

"No. I found out today and I was hoping Matt would help."

"And he didn't," Eddie says, knowingly.

"He didn't," you confirm. "I asked him to come over earlier because I was upset and he said he’d be here for dinner."

"You cooked?" he hums, petting the back of your head.

"Yeah. I made, uhm, lemon chicken? It wasn't very good."

You've always been a wonderful cook, at least in Eddie's eyes. You don't have a lot of recipes you can whip out from under your belt upon short notice, but the ones you do have are some of his favorites. The chocolate chip cookies he has to hide from Wayne, the chicken noodle soup you bring over when he’s sick, the banana pancakes that always went along with his scrambled eggs and bacon when he used to sleep over. You've never made lemon chicken for him, but you're good at following a cookbook so he thinks it mustn't have turned out inedible.

By now Eddie has learned that "it wasn't very good" means "Matt didn't like it". He doesn’t understand why that piece of shit is dating you if never likes anything you do. Hearing you repeat the things he says to make you feel bad makes your best friend want to dig through your fridge for the leftovers and eat them all just to prove to you that your boyfriend is wrong.

"I think I have to break up with Matt."

Your words make Eddie's head turn. Of all the things you could have said tonight, this was not something he ever imagined. He could have sworn you'd date Matt until he'd decided he'd had enough of you, or you'd marry him and he'd have to sit in the front row watching that fucking guy sap you of your life force for the rest of your days.

Eddie is haunted by the sound of your vacant voice when you'd asked him to come over. At the forefront of his mind he can see it all in loose pieces: the disarray in your bedroom, your obsession with being clean, Matt not being here after you said he’d come over earlier for dinner. He waits for you to paint a clear picture, hoping he won't have to break your boyfriend's nose (or worse) when he sees him around.

"Did he hurt you?" Eddie asks, heart sinking.

"I don't think he likes me anymore," you say, breaking down. Eddie shifts closer and holds you while you shiver. "He, um… he said I can't live with him if I can't find a place before I have to move out of here. A-and when I got upset because I don't want to be fucking homeless during my last semester, he- he tried to distract me with sex."

"What the fuck."

"I t-think he only came o-over ‘cause he wan- he wanted to get laid," you admit between hiccups. "And when he- he couldn't g-get it, he just left.”

"Sweetheart, fuck, I'm so sorry. He's such a fucking asshole," he lets you sob into his arms, the tears coming out of your tired eyes rivalring the downpour outside hitting your windows.

“He- he wouldn’t even hug me. I was crying and he just stood there! He doesn’t care about me being homeless, he- he doesn’t care about me at all!”

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he says gently, and you want to believe he’s telling the truth but you don’t. You can’t.

“It’s not. It’s not okay,” you try to move away but he follows you, heart chasing after yours.

"What do you mean, baby?" he brushes a tear away from your face as you both sit up.

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong and I’m just… there’s nothing in here,” you say through your teeth while you grab at your shirt frantically, scaring him with the rough motion. "I feel so empty and I think- I know there's something really wrong with me, Eddie. Something has to be wrong. I’m not normal.”

"Hey, no, no, there's nothing wrong with you," he pulls you into him once more, not letting you run away from him again. "Sweetheart, I promise you, you're- you're not empty, what are you even saying? You're full - you're so full. You're full of love, a-and kindness, and if that son of a bitch is making you feel like you're not full then, I don’t know, dump his ass! He's mean and pathetic, please don't- don't break yourself into a million pieces for someone who doesn't deserve you."

"I don't feel full, Ed."

"That’s okay, we can work on it," Eddie says, confidently. "And I’m not gonna let you be homeless, I swear. You can move in with me until you feel ready to start house hunting!"

"What if I never feel better?"

"Then we’ll live together forever,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you know he means it.

"Ed-"

"Babe. I'm serious. One hundred percent. You can even have my bedroom, I don't care."

"And where are you gonna sleep, huh? Don't be stupid."

"Wayne slept in the living room for like a decade and he's still kicking, I'll survive."

You turn in his arms so you can look at him. Eddie looks back at you with his warm eyes and mischievous smile firmly planted on his face. He’s so special to you. And luckily for him, you've never been able to say no to him either.

"When is your lease over?" you ask, wiping your tears and feeling suddenly determined.

"Uh, after you graduate I think?"

"I’ll move in with you but don't renew it. Let's find a new place."

"Yeah?" Eddie grins. "You wanna be roommates? For real?"

"I think- I think it could be good for me," you raise your hands and squish his cheeks. I think you could be good for me. "I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you."

"Me too," he says, gaze softening.

He knows it's not your fault Matt has taken over your life, not when he's conditioned you for the past year to depend on him for everything. Eddie also knows he himself has been the source of many of your fights, and while it hurts to see you cry every time Matt gives you the silent treatment until you apologize for something you didn't do, your adamant refusal to cut your best friend off your life makes him incredibly proud of you.

As much as you've stood up for Eddie throughout your lives, you've never been good at standing up for yourself. He thinks it’s time he starts standing up for you too.

"You, um," Eddie starts, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from his cheeks and onto his lap. "You really are gonna break up with him though, right? Because I don't think I can pretend like everything's cool with the guy when he keeps hurting you like this."

"No, I know. I can't keep going like this anymore. There's... there's so much stuff you don't even know, Ed. Sometimes he really scares me," you confess.

"He hasn't, like… hit you or anything, right?" his throat constricts.

"No, but he says things... weird things. He's so mean sometimes,” you huff, finally getting rightfully angry. “He got mad for no reason the other day and said that the only time he felt I loved him was when he got sick and I stayed with him during Spring Break. I spent an entire week taking care of him and then when he gave me the fucking plague, because of course I got it from him, Robin had to take care of me because he was sooo busy."

"He's such a goddamn loser, he totally held you hostage ‘cause you had plans that didn’t involve him for once. I knew he had a problem with us going to Steve's cabin, he’s never liked any of us!”

"Also he says I humiliate him in class because I think I'm smarter than him. Like it’s my fault his grades suck.”

"You are, though," Eddie says, grinning.

“Huh?”

"You are smarter than him. You have always been the smartest of us all."

"No, I’m not,” you scoff. “Nancy was valedictorian."

"Be real, you didn't want that shit anyway."

"No, I really didn't," you giggle softly. "I was too busy running around town with you and Jonathan.”

“Those were the good days,” he snorts. “We totally made Hopper age in dog years.”

After the laughter ends, you two look at each other and know that something has changed tonight. Something that was slowly veering off track got violently course-corrected, and you let yourself feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time.

You’ll go to sleep in Eddie’s arms and wake up to the smell of him frying bacon. You’ll whip your banana pancakes from thin air and you’ll start deciding together what you want to sell, what you’ll put in storage and what you’ll take with you once you move out of your place. You’ll talk about your finals coming up and Eddie’s new job, and he’ll do the dishes while you call Nancy, who’ll call Jonathan, who’ll shake Argyle up, who’ll call Eden, who’ll call and wake up Robin, who’ll yell at a sleepy Steve to get up, who’ll then call you to ask when they should be coming to help you lug all your stuff into Eddie’s van.

And Matt won’t call all weekend, because he doesn’t care about you, but you will never know that because you’ll be getting drunk at Robin and Steve’s while Eden tells you about a two bedroom apartment that a classmate of hers is vacating after graduation, and everyone else will make bets on how long it’s going to take for you and Eddie to notice that you won’t actually need two bedrooms.

But for now, with eyes that hurt from crying and limbs that feel heavy with a tiredness you’ve been carrying for months, you feel a little less empty because you know that no matter what the future holds, you’ll always have Eddie by your side.

thank you for reading!

[skulla-rxcks]

Was that message for me?

Paring: friend!bang chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: PIV, mutual msturbation, friends trope, chan thinks the message wasn’t for him, slight daddy kink, oral, fingèring

Asking best friend!Chan for help orgasming.. but he thinks the message wasn’t for him

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Heyy can you come over? I need help :(”

“Why? You okay? What do you need help with?”

“I can’t seem to cum. Every time I try to orgasm I just seem to can’t, it’s like I’m stopped.”

“Were you meant to say that to me?” Chan asks typing his fingers across his phone, clearly confused. This message wasn’t meant for him.. right?

“Wdym?”

“You asked for help with.. you know.. uh things. That wasn’t meant for me right?”

He looks at his phone, his brows furrowing in confusing as he reads over the explicit question asked.

“Chris just come over please. It’s easier to talk in person”

I sigh my mood changing to regret as I can already see the confusion in his face even though I can’t physically see him through my phone. I end up receiving a thumbs up in response ‘thank god I didn’t just mess up our friendship completely’ I sigh in relief; and about twenty or so minutes later I hear the door bell ring; getting up from my bed and exiting my room I go and answer it, opening the door to Chan, clearly questioning what the fuck just happened not too long ago.

“So im guessing it was for me if you asked me to come over..? You did use my name after all.” He steps inside, making his way to my living room and taking a seat on the couch, I sit down next to him, both of us completely flustered.

“I’m really sorry for bringing this up I know it’s probably a bit uncomfortable talking about something like this but-” Chan cuts me off, looking at me with concern.

“No no don’t worry it’s fine! I uh, get like that sometimes I understand.. do you not own toys or anything that could.. give you a hand?” I shake my head, looking embarrassed for bringing this ‘issue’ up to someone who I’d probably consider my guy best friend.

“No.. I mean, I use the handle of my hair brush sometimes but I’ve never had this issue before.” I blush, why am I asking him about something like this? I feel like I’m going to cry out from embarrassment.

He sighs, noticing how uncomfortable I am and how much I trust him to even bring up an issue like this.

“Have you tried anything else? Pillow humping?.. uhh… maybe use more fingers if you.. never mind I’m so sorry I sound really perverted giving suggestions haha.” He laughs, trying to lighten the mood and get some of the tension out of the air that’s filling the room.

“No! Don’t worry Chan it’s fine.. I’m finding it helpful to talk about this stuff..” I mumble under my breath.

“Okay well.. are you stressed? Maybe that’s the reason I’ve heard that stress can stop people from orgasming sometimes?” He suggests, trying to get to the bottom of whatever’s happening. “I’m not sure. Can you give me a hand and see if that’s the problem maybe? I uh, maybe if someone helps me I’ll be able to..”

Chan nods slowly looking into my eyes for permission before reassuring himself with his words. “So you want me to.. help you cum? Like you want me to touch you or..” He scrunches his face, a hint of lust glazing over his features, his soft lips puckering with his expressions, a mix of frowns and smiles cover them.

I Look away, fiddling with my own hands. “If that’s okay.. hopefully it doesn’t ruin our relationship or anything.” I blush, fluttering my eyelashes at him, silently pleading for more. “Of course if that’s what you need to make you feel better then I’m happy to oblige, especially if I’m the one who can make you cum.” He chuckles, the top of his ears turning red.

I smile, beginning to take off my sweat pants along with my panties, watching as he strips himself of his bottom half as well.

“So what now..?” I ask. “Maybe we should start with mutual masturbation.. don’t wanna rush things, you know?” He smiles politely. What a gentle man he is, not rushing into anything fast, even though I’d be happy for whatever he wants to do first with me. “Okay” I nod, picking up our pants and bringing him to my bedroom and sitting down with him. “You know how to do this right?”

“We just.. masturbate side by side?” I look at him. Receiving a nod. I look at him as he starts to wrap his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly before picking up speed, the site of his dick making my insides ache and my cunt twitch with need. Watching him, I slowly thrust two fingers inside of my hole, curling them up to hit my g spot, my eyes however, are hooked onto his dick, watching him like he’s some sort of drug to me, drawing me in more and more with every stroke.

“You’re staring quite a bit, you okay?” He giggles, rubbing his spare hand on my thigh reassuringly. “Yeah yeah it’s just.. wow, I never expected to do something like this with you.. I mean, you’re probably one of my best friends after all” I shuffle closer to him, my pussy twitching around my fingers as I think about how his dick would feel inside of me; raw or protected I don’t care, I wonder how good he’d feel inside of me with his thick length, if he’d let me cum immediately or if he’d dominate me and use me to his liking; controlling whether or not I’m allowed to cum as I squirm under him.

I finally decide to let my horny thoughts get a hold of me. “I want you.. but I still can’t seem to..”

“You have me, princess. What’s on your mind?” He says, looking into my eyes with concern, noticing how needy I’m getting. He probably noticed how I was twitching around my fingers and lost in my thoughts. “I’m wondering how.. how your..” I try to get my words out but they’re tied back against my throat. “How my what?” He teases, clearly enjoying this side of me. “Tell me or I won’t give it to you, yeah?”

I nod, “I’m wondering how your dick would feel inside of me.. e-every inch and the thickness of it stretching me open.. how you’d treat me differently while I’m under you or on top.” I look away after finally spilling my words out, feeling my cheeks get hot. There’s so much more I want to say but it would take hours.

“Do you wanna stop wondering and try it out? Id be lying if I said I wasn’t wondering similar things about your pretty little pussy.. wonder how tight you are and how your face contorts as you make a pretty mess all over my dick.” He teases, reaching over into my lap to stroke his fingers over my clitoris, making me squirm with need.

“Please Chan.. Please Chris..” I beg him, using both of his names. “Good girl. Protection or no protection?” He asks, wanting to know my preference or if I want him to fill me up with his hot seed or not.

“As much as I want to risk it.. I don’t wanna accidentally you know, get impregnated and regret it once I’m not extremely fucking horny.”

“Mm that’s okay.. hopefully one day you’ll let me pump that cunt of yours up full of my cum, hm?” Chan smirks, enjoying making me into a soaking wet needy mess with his words.

He lifts his shirt over his head exposing his bare muscular body as he climbs on top of me. “Be a good girl and take your bra off for me, let me see those tits..” “yes da-“ I pause, realising what almost came out of my mouth. “Daddy huh? Fuck that made me so turned on.” He groans, reaching into his bag and finding a condom before rolling it onto his dick. While he does that I obey his order and unclip my bra, my breasts now being on display.

He licks his lips at the site of me now laying under him completely naked and vulnerable, dripping and ready for his cock. Chan positions himself at my entrance and pushes in, making me let out a moan of pleasure.

“Chris oh my god..!” I cry out, savouring the feeling of how his cock fills up my dripping needy cunt perfectly, slowly calming the urges inside of me but slowly making me want more. “Shh you’re okay.. just focus on how good I feel inside this pretty pussy, okay?”

“M-mhm..” a whimper leaves my mouth before feeling Chan press his lips against mine, his tongue parting my lips and our tongues now dancing and tangling together as his hands slowly creep their way down to my breasts massaging and playing with them making me squirm under him with even more need pulsing through my body as a result of his actions. “So fucking tight just for me..” he murmurs Into the kiss, beginning to plunge his dick in and out of my hole harder and faster. “Y-yes only for you daddy… I’m all yours ” I moan, parting away from the kiss to look into his eyes, my brain studying every scrunch and frown of pleasure lurking upon his face.

Fuck, I imagine how he must feel pounding and ruining me raw, without protection; every vein and every pulse as more blood runs to his dick making him grow and twitch inside of me. God, how I want him to fill me up and impregnate me with his children so Fucking badly. It’s definitely not right for our first time being intimate though.

“Whatcha thinking about now baby girl?” He teases again, pumping his length deeper into my pussy, I can’t even get a solid response out of my mouth it feels so fucking good. “So loud.. you gonna cum? You gonna make a mess all around my dick?”

“A-ah.. yes.. yes.. soon!” I cry, feeling myself tighten around him as I creep up the road to reach my peak. “So loud..” he chuckles, connecting his lips to my breast sucking gently on my nipple as I let loose a soft scream that turns into a loud moan as I feel him pound his length deeper Into me.

My back arching slightly from the pressure, tears starting to well up in my eyes as a loud string of moans leave my lips.

“Come for me baby~ Come for daddy~”

And so I did, screaming and crying louder than I ever had before, clenching him tighter, cumming around his cock. HARD.

Not long after I feel Chan reach his too, filling up the condom, making me feel a little bubble inside of me before pulling out, tying it up and properly disposing of it. “You sound so pretty when you cum baby? May I eat you out? Show you I can make you cum in more ways than one?” He chuckles, clearly amused with himself at the mess he’s created

“Please..” I pout, the thought of his plush soft lips against my clit and his tongue thrusting in and out of my needy little hole making me go feral.

“Only for you.” he smirks. I shivering as he slowly makes his way down to my cunt, licking and trailing his tongue down from my breasts until he reaches his desired destination. He grips his hands around my thighs, gently prying them open before attaching his lips to my now swollen clitoris flicking it with his tongue as his beady brown eyes look up at me and watch while I throw my head back in pleasure. “C-Chris..! Ah..”

“You taste just as good as you look..” Chan groans into my pussy, making me whimper even more this time due to the vibrations of his voice flowing through me and my pussy. “Fuck! You’re ruining me..!~” I sob out in pleasure, my hand reaching down to push his face deeper into my folds, needing more of his mouth, which only causes him to start moving his tongue and lips faster.

“Chris!! Don’t do that ill-“ I try to warn him but it’s too late, I’ve already made a mess of myself all over his face.

“Well at least you’re not complaining are you?” God, even his way of words makes me so horny.

I shake my head. “Good girl. My good girl.” He grins, moving his head up from my crotch to my face, forcing his lips on mine making me taste myself. “Mmph!?-“ I gasp against his lips as he pushes two fingers inside of me, bending them and moving them back and forth against that sweet spot inside of me.

“You like that baby girl? Tell me what you like about my hands.. since you stare at them so often you must have some naughty thoughts about them, yeah?” Chan pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting our lips as he waits for my response.

“Y-yes.. I.. i Imagine your fingers in me as I touch myself, but f-fuck they’re so much better and faster than mine.” I connect my lips back to his, our tongues beginning to swirl and twirl again. “Get on your knees for me.” He demands me, I let out a whine of disappointment as he pulls his fingers out of my pussy. “Mhm..” I smile, getting down on my knees and looking up at him. “I ate your pretty little pussy so now it’s time for you to wrap that mouth around me.,”

“Yes”

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Such a good girl you are, already knowing your place” he praises. I wrap my mouth around his already dripping cock and start taking him Into my mouth, sucking him. The flavour of his precum hitting my taste buds making me feel special, making me feel that I’m maybe definitely more than a friend to him.

“You wanna take me deeper? Think you can do it?” I nod, my mouth filled with his dick, I take him deeper and deeper, slowly beginning to deep throat him. Accidentally gaging around his length in the process.

“Your throats so tight baby. Im Gonna cum soon fucking swallow every drop of me.” I look up at him, he’s biting his lip as he spills his seed down my throat, I swallow it all, hungry for every bit of his cock, I whine slightly as he pulls out of my mouth, a tiny bit of his semen still dripping down my chin, I lick it up greedily.

“Good girl. Did you get what you wanted? Happy you could finally cum?”

I nod, now laying down with him and snuggling my head against his chest like a lost kitten.

“If you ever need help again don’t hesitate to call me baby girl.”

“Same for you Chris.”

[rootedinrevisions]

Not Just Some Option

SUMMARY: After years of friendship and hidden feelings, you and Tyler Owens, the charming and fearless storm chaser, find yourselves tangled in an unspoken connection. One quiet evening at home in Arkansas, the walls of denial crumble as the tension between you finally comes to a head. Tyler’s frustration with your reluctance to open up sparks a raw, emotional confession, forcing both of you to confront the depth of your feelings. As truths are laid bare, Tyler proves his devotion with words and actions, leaving no room for doubt that his heart belongs to you—and only you.

A/N: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! Hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Some Angst. Fluff. Some brief kissing/making out.

WORD COUNT: 2k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You’d always been good at hiding your feelings for Tyler. After all, what choice did you have? Loving him quietly from a distance was safer than risking everything and losing him for good. You told yourself you were fine being his best friend, the one he could count on through thick and thin, the person who knew him better than anyone. But sometimes, like tonight, the weight of unspoken words felt like it might crush you.

His arm was draped over the back of the couch, and you leaned into him, trying to focus on the movie playing on the screen. The warmth of his body so close to yours should have been comforting, but it only reminded you of all the times you’d wished for more.

And then his phone buzzed. Again.

You bit your lip, refusing to look at the screen. It wasn’t your business who he was texting, no matter how much it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest. You tried to ignore the flashes of girls’ names, the way his lips quirked up in a small smile when he typed out a reply. But when the fifth buzz shattered the silence, you couldn’t help the sharp glance you shot at his phone.

“Who is that?” you asked, keeping your tone light, though the words tasted bitter in your mouth.

Tyler barely looked up. “Oh, just that brunette from Kansas. You know, the one from the bar.”

The knot in your stomach tightened. You remembered her well. The way she’d draped herself over him, batting her eyelashes and whispering in his ear, like she owned the right to his attention. And the worst part? He’d let her.

“Right,” you said, your voice tight as you turned back to the TV.

Tyler frowned, his focus shifting from his phone to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you lied, your eyes glued to the screen.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I said I’m fine, Tyler.”

You could feel his gaze on you, sharp and searching. “Come on. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, your fingers clenching the edge of the throw pillow in your lap.

He sighed, his tone turning frustrated. “Why do you always do this? I know something’s bothering you, but you won’t tell me. Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

Because if I tell you, I’ll lose you. The words screamed in your head, but you couldn’t say them. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if your confession made things awkward, and ruined the easy friendship you’d spent years building? You swallowed hard, your throat tight with unshed tears.

“Forget it, Tyler,” you said softly. “It’s not important.”

“Bull,” he shot back, his voice firm. “It’s important if it’s upsetting you. Talk to me.”

The frustration in his voice broke something in you, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “I don’t like watching you with other girls, okay? I don’t like it when you’re texting them or taking them home. It hurts, Tyler. It kills me.”

The room went silent, the only sound the hum of the TV in the background. Tyler stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“You…” He hesitated, his voice quieter now. “You feel that way about me?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Tyler. But I know it doesn’t matter."

"It does matter. I want you." He said softly.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You could have anyone you want. Why would you want me?”

The vulnerability in your voice must have hit him, because he reached for you, his hand gently tilting your chin up until your eyes met his.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” he said, his voice low and intense.

You blinked, the words not fully sinking in. “Tyler, don’t—”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his eyes boring into yours. “I’ve wanted you for so long, but I didn’t think you felt the same. And yeah, I’ve been an idiot talking to other people, but that’s over. I’m done with anyone else. I just want you.”

You shook your head slightly, tears spilling down your cheeks. “How can I believe that? After everything? I've seen you take I don't even know how many girls back to your hotel room.”

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. 

“Then let me prove it to you,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, and the world fell away. It wasn’t rushed or tentative—it was a kiss full of everything he couldn’t put into words, everything he’d been holding back.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Do you believe me now?”

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I believe you.”

“Good,” he said with a small smile, his hand still cradling the back of your neck. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Tyler didn’t wait for your response. His lips found yours again, firmer this time, more insistent. The hand cradling the back of your neck tightened slightly, anchoring you to him as his other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against your lips in a silent request, and when you parted them, a quiet gasp escaped you as he claimed the moment. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring, tasting, and igniting sparks that spread through your body like wildfire.

Your hands, which had been resting awkwardly at your sides, moved on instinct. One slid up to his shoulder, gripping the soft fabric of his t-shirt, while the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. The soft strands felt warm under your fingertips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving a gentle tug, earning a low, almost guttural sound from him that sent a shiver down your spine.

He shifted, his body pressing closer to yours as the kiss turned more heated. You felt his fingers flex against your waist, holding you firmly but not harshly. The way he touched you was deliberate like he was savoring every second, every tiny reaction you gave him.

“God,” Tyler murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse and breathless. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His confession hit you harder than you expected, making your chest tighten and your head spin. You barely had time to process it before he kissed you again, tilting his head to deepen the connection.

You melted into him, letting go of the doubts and fears that had held you back for so long. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it all felt so right, so natural.

Tyler’s hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing just under the edge of your ribs before it settled lightly on your cheek, guiding your face to stay perfectly aligned with his. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the hunger in the kiss, and it left you breathless, craving more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were gasping for air. Tyler pressed his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the charged silence. His hands framed your face, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns along your jaw.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. “I want you. Only you.”

Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his tone, and all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping his shirt as though letting go would break the spell.

“I don’t want this to be just a moment,” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t want to go back to pretending.”

“We won’t,” Tyler promised, leaning in to press a softer, slower kiss to your lips. “No more pretending. Promise.”

Tyler’s promise hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt the truth of it in the way his hands lingered on your face, in the way his gaze bore into yours like he was trying to memorize every detail.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. It wasn’t just passion; it was something deeper, something that made the world outside this moment fade away.

You sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing into his as you let yourself get lost in him. Tyler responded by pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying against the cushions of the couch. He leaned over you, his weight balanced carefully on one arm as his other hand caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

His kisses trailed away from your mouth, moving to the corner of your lips, then along your jaw. Each touch of his lips sent a spark racing through you, and when he nuzzled against the curve of your neck, you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you.

“Tyler,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He hummed in response, the low, rough sound vibrating against your skin as his lips found the spot just below your ear. 

“I love the way you say my name,” he murmured, his breath warm and tantalizing against your neck.

You bit your lip, your hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It grounded you, reminding you that this was real—that this wasn’t some fleeting dream you’d wake up from.

Tyler pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, his expression softer now, almost hesitant. 

“I need you to tell me something,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you held his gaze. “Anything.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his brow furrowed as though the answer truly mattered more than anything else.

The question caught you off guard, but the answer came easily. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me when I say this,” Tyler continued his voice steady but laced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere. This doesn't ruin our friendship. You’re not just some option to me. You never were.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them. You’d spent so long doubting, second-guessing, convincing yourself that this connection between you was one-sided. But now, hearing him say it, seeing the conviction in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Tyler...” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check.

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “No more doubting, okay? No more wondering if you’re enough. You’ve always been enough. For me, you’re everything.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could say anything else, Tyler leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to prove his words with every movement, every gentle caress.

The heat between you began to build again, his kisses growing more fervent as his hand slid down your side, resting just above your hip. You felt his fingers curl slightly, holding you with a mix of reverence and restraint.

The sound of the rain tapping against the window faded into the background as the world narrowed to just the two of you. Nothing else mattered—not the doubts, not the fears, not the years you’d spent hiding how you felt.

In this moment, it was just you and Tyler.

And for the first time, it felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 2: Pretty Woman

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: reader convinces her girlfriend jay to dress up tags: teasing, sexual tension, groping, cunnilingus, thigh riding rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k a/n: honestly just an excuse to put jay in cheetah print

Your girlfriend in her steel toed boots, rotating closet of identical tank tops, worn in jeans, and leather jacket is hot. Capital H O T hot. You are absolutely not complaining about the way she dresses, especially when she’s looking at you like you’re something particularly tasty. No, it’s just – she makes you feel so pretty, that’s all. She makes you feel dainty, delicate in her hands, the belle of the ball on the arm of the most handsome woman there. You love the way she makes you feel, you love the way she lets you do her hair sometimes, and you just want to make her feel happy.

So it’s with that in mind that you start planning. Slowly start adding images to your pinterest board, start looking up hair and makeup tutorials. Flag certain items in your online shopping cart for when they go on sale, just so there’s no fuss when the items do turn up in your closet. Primp and practice, collect and wait until just the right moment. For the right mood to strike. And when it does, you’re ready.

You’re curled up on the couch, head resting on Jay’s stomach as you watch old reruns of Dynasty on the tv. She’s got a hand resting on the side of your face, fingers stroking softly as the lights from the screen flicker across your face.

“D’you think they’re pretty?” You ask her, not looking up from your comfy position.

“Who, the actresses?” Her fingers still on your face as you move your head to nod. “I guess, though their fashion’s pretty dated.”

“Yeah but don’t they look so gorgeous and confident though?” You continue to prod. “Big hair, bigger attitude.”

“O-kay,” she drawls, clearly just humouring you but it’s an opening.

“Doesn’t that remind you of anyone?” You tease, starting to push yourself into a seated position.

“What, you don’t mean me?” She squints at you like if she looks hard enough she can see the exact shape of the head damage that put you in this mood.

“Uhuh,” you nod, eyes bright and enthusiastic. “ A little bit of primping, a dab of red lipstick.”

“And then what?” Jay asks. “You turn me into some tv villain sleeping with her ex-husband’s mortal enemy?”

“Um,” you stutter, suddenly shy. “More like the morally grey lesbian that seduces her daughter?”

Jay grins because now she’s got the gist of your plan unfurling into the palm of her hand.

“Yeah?” She teases. “You want me to seduce you?”

You nod, vigorously.

“Okay fine, turn me into your soap opera lesbian then.”

You squeal and grab her hand, drag her off the couch and ignore her rolling eyes at your excitement. Push her down into the vanity seat as gently as you can while dashing around to grab things from their hiding places. Jay looks at you in the mirror as you start to backcomb her hair.

“Is this you preparing for the outcome you wanted again?” She asks suspiciously like she already knows the answer.

“Might have been,” you say, already nearly done with shaping her hair.

A fog of hairspray brings it all together, Jay coughing and swatting at your ass to leave off. Grinning, you spin her around in the chair and start on the makeup. End up sitting on her lap, legs splayed, as you swipe bold oranges and gold across her eyelids, too engrossed in your work to notice the way she’s palming at your ass. A careful hand applies a crisp line of red lipstick to her pout. Grabbing a tissue, you hold it up to her mouth and tell her to “Bite gently.”

She does, eyes never leaving yours with a hunger in them that’s not quite appropriate for prime time television. With a careful finger under her chin, you turn Jay’s head side to side to make sure you haven’t left any spidery mascara marks or fallen glitter. Satisfied with your handiwork, you push off her lap, only suddenly just realizing how far up your skirt had ridden.

“There’s an outfit laid out in the closet,” you tell her, hands fidgeting with your skirt hem. “You don’t– you don’t have to wear all of it if you don’t want to, but um, I’d really like it if you did. I’ll just um, just wait here for the grand reveal then?”

Sighing the heavy burden of the long suffering, Jay walks to the closet, trailing a lone finger down your shoulder as she brushes past. Inside just as you said is an outfit, or, what should be an outfit only there is barely enough fabric to qualify as such. Grumbling she throws her clothes in the laundry basket and starts inspecting what you’ve gifted her.

“Hey these underwear are missing half the fabric,” she calls out to you, holding out the glorified strings of cheetah print, trying to figure out which bit is supposed to actually cover her.

“Thongs just always look like that!” You call back.

“Well I hope you didn’t pay very much for them,” she continues to grumble, finally figuring out how to slide them over her hips without turning them into a garotte.

Pulls the high cut of the waistband up over her hip bones and admires the way they make her look curvy. The bra – the bra almost makes her laugh out loud. That same loud cheetah print only stuffed to the gills with padding. It’s probably 80% padding and the balconette cut means there’s basically no cup for her actual boobs. A very far, far cry from her usual sports bras, but she’ll bite. Has to adjust and play around with it to stop her nipples from wanting to spill out but she’ll admit her tits look good. She will be asking you later about why you had a lingerie set in her size just lying around though. A tight, tight pencil skirt that has her jumping and shimmying to get on goes on next, the stretch of the fabric smoothing out the harsh lines of her. A thin, see through button down is all that’s left. With a snort she simply knots it, already knowing that the hassle of the tiny buttons won’t be worth it. Not with how she plans the rest of the night to go.

Taking a breath, she allows herself a moment to just look at herself in the long mirror. Twists to admire what the skirt does for her ass, the line of her legs. She looks... powerful. The kind of beauty that crushes lesser beings underfoot with casual cruelty, sharp edges tempered by the fullness of curves Jay was never sure she’d really have. Wild. Her muscles make her look dangerous and wickedly feminine, red lips curling up at the corners at her thick thighs test the limits of the skirt seams. The way the shirt clings for dear life across her shoulders, make her an hourglass figure to kill for. Oh you knew what you were doing, dropping hints about seduction, but Jay’s gonna make you regret not being honest about it.

With a swish to her hips that is enchantingly new, Jay walks back into the bedroom. She savours the instantly glassy look in your eyes. The sweet little parting between your lips and the harsh bob of your throat as you swallow. Walks right up to where you sit on the bed and uses her height to loom over you. Your legs part automatically and she slots herself between them like she belongs there. She ghosts the back of her hand down the side of your face and you close your eyes and shudder.

“Like what you see, sweet thing?” She teases. You nod blindly and press your face into her hand. “Such a good girl, getting everything ready for me like this.” You sigh as her fingers card into your hair, cups the back of your head. “There’s just one teeny, tiny, little problem.” Your eyes fly open, brows creasing with confusion. With one hand Jay pulls on the knot keeping her shirt closed, exposes her breasts to the cold air of your bedroom. “My tits are sore from this teeny, tiny, little bra. You’re going to put that conniving little mouth to work and make them feel better.”

The hand cradling your head turns to iron, guides your face to her chest and plants it right in her cleavage. It takes a few slow seconds to realize what’s expected and Jay’s fingers tightening in your hair before you start to move. Quickly you begin to mouth at the warm flesh of her tits, laving your tongue over their heavy weight, kissing and sucking little red marks into them. Use your empty hands to massage them, squeeze at them the way you’ve been to ever since she walked out and tied your tongue into knots. Carefully free one breast from its confines and latch onto her dark nipple. Tease at it with your teeth until you can feel her panting. Your hips start undulating, desperate for friction at your throbbing core. The wet core of your panties brushes against her leg and the iron grip on your head pulls your off of her breast with a wet sounding pop. 

“I generously let you play with my tits but you just had to get greedy, huh?” She taunts. Steps back and has you moaning at the loss of her. “Thought your gluttonous little cunt deserved more.” With a broad hand she smacks between your legs, has you writhing and whimpering only held up by the hand still in your hair. With disgust she throws you back onto the bed and crawls up your body. Shimmies the tight skirt up around her hips, just the thin string of her thong keeping her covered. “I’m going to ride your lying little tongue,” she tells you with a cold kind of disdain. “Your hands are going to stay on my ass the entire time and if you’re good and make me come, maybe I’ll let you grind on my abs after.” 

Your keen gets cut off by Jay seating herself over your face, hands scrabbling to grab onto her plush ass. You tongue aside the wet fabric of her thong and start sucking. Seal your lips around her hole and grind your nose into her clit. Use your hands to encourage her to use you. Tongue at her entrance until she starts swearing, knuckles white around the head board. Slick coats your mouth and chin. Stiffening your tongue, you start to thrust inside of her and she grinds down on you. Throws her head back and arches her back in a way that pushes her breasts out. Entranced, you lap at her cunt reflexively as she starts riding your face in earnest, tits bouncing rhythmically. You throb between your legs, hips meeting nothing but air as you squirm beneath her.

Urging her on, you start to tongue fuck her in earnest, desperate to make her come in your mouth. Jay takes one look at your wide glassy eyes and grins wickedly, instantly understanding what part of the show has all your attention. Reaching behind her, she unclasps the bra and shrugs it off, lets her tits fall heavy. Arches her back artificially and starts to feel herself up. Moans as she tweaks and pinches at her own nipples, hips grinding faster against your tongue. She comes just as you start to give up hope of being good for her, thighs clenching around your ears and slick dripping into your throat, slow fire lighting up her veins.

With a heavy sigh she rolls off of you, sits next to your head as she fixes her skirt. Carefully you keep your hands to yourself as your roll onto your elbows to look up at her. Very intentionally you don’t grind your aching core into the mattress. Jay strokes her thumb over your cheekbone, then uses her hand to tilt your chin up, admiring the way your face glistens in the light.

“My, my baby girl’s a messy eater,” she chides, your face flushing warm. “M’gonna have to teach you better manners.” She tuts.

“Was I–” you clear your throat “Was I good though?”

“Yeah baby, you can have your reward,” she says affectionately. Scrabbling on the bed you straddle her, almost crying out in relief at finally having something to rub up against. “You’re gonna have to do all the work though,” she tells you, warm hands coming up to steady your hips.

You groan and start grinding, her hands guiding you. Strung tight already and achingly turned on, you know its not gonna take much. Your panties are disgustingly wet, soaked through and practically dripping. Frantic, grind as fast as you can, plant your hands on her chest and bear down on her taut stomach. Your thighs already burn and you whine in frustration, pleasure not building fast enough in your gut to satisfy you. Jay reaches up a hand and cups your breast through your t-shirt. Brushes a thumb over a sensitive nipple and you’re crying out as you come on her stomach, legs shaking and cunt quivering.

Exhausted, you slump over on her chest, face buried in her neck. She pets a hand over your hair and coos as you shake against her warm skin.

“There she is, there’s my good baby girl.” You sigh and try to wriggle closer at the praise. “See what being patient gets you? Now come on baby,” she says, rolling you onto your back on the middle of the bed. “Let’s get these sticky panties off. I want to see whose lips this lipstick looks better on.”

series masterlist | part 1 | part 3

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Whelmed 🩷

Even Jihoon needs to be taken care of sometimes.

Fluff - woozi x gn!reader

Maybe I'm projecting jussssst a lil bit. Anyway, Happy Birth Month, my precious, precious boy!!

AO3 link

Word Count: 2.5k

CW: crying, meltdown, a lil hurt/comfort, jihoon is stressed and needs maximum comfort

₊˚⊹ 🩷🩷🩷꒰.^₃^꒱☆⋆｡

You walk into the Universe Factory and the first thing you see is Jihoon laying face down on the couch. It’s silent in the room, which is incredibly rare, except for the sounds of heavy breathing and sniffles. You walk slowly toward the couch and plop down on the edge of it. Jihoon makes some room for you without lifting his face. Your hand finds his back to start rubbing it comfortingly.

“Want to talk about it?” you ask, your voice softly above a whisper.

“I got really overwhelmed.” Jihoon’s small voice is muffled by the cushions of the seat. He finally turns around to face you, now laying on his back. His nose and eyes are tinged red, and his face is slightly shining from a few tears left there. He’s been done crying for a while. He looks and feels small, however, and moves your hand to pat his tummy, still craving your touch.

“That’s okay. Want to go to my place to get whelmed?” you offer.

Jihoon lets out a laugh, a smile finally appearing on his face. “Is that even a word?”

“I don’t know, but my offer still stands.” You lift an eyebrow to him and return the smile.

He takes a deep breath and exhales an “Okay.” 

You begin to stand up and take a moment to look out of the window. The sun just went down. It’s still early in the night, however, since Jihoon usually ends his work past midnight. Only special circumstances like dinner plans or events get him to call it quits early, and even then, he just ends up back in the studio, producing away. Tonight is an extremely rare circumstance. One in which work stops because it absolutely has to or it will destroy the boy’s mind. It’s only ever happened one other time since you two started dating. You’re ready for it much better this time, knowing all he wants is to be taken care of and to not have to think about anything.

You wait for Jihoon to stand up and follow your lead, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, he puffs out his cheeks and reaches up for you, wanting you to lift him to his feet. He looks insanely adorable, even if there are still the dying embers of a meltdown still glowing on his face. You grab his hands and pull him up to a seated position then finally up to his feet. You are determined to make him feel better tonight, any way you can. 

“Carry me,” he pouts. 

You giggle at the suggestion, knowing exactly how he feels. “I would if I could.” You continue to keep the mood really light and joking as you leave the building and walk to your apartment building. You carry Jihoon’s bag for him, and he pays for some snacks at a convenience store. 

Once you make it into your apartment, you both immediately change into your fluffiest, comfiest clothes. Jihoon sits comfortably on the couch, picking something to watch while you make popcorn and pour your drinks into cute mason jars. You each picked out some candy to share and an ice cream treat to store in the freezer for later, as well. You come to the living room and set down the popcorn bowl and drinks and find Jihoon with his eyebrows furrowed as he scrolls through every streaming platform there is, trying to find something suitable.

“This is impossible,” he huffs.

“What are you looking for?” you plop next to him and throw a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

“I don’t know. Something good.” His response isn’t very elaborate.

“A K-Drama?” you ask.

“No, I want something I don’t have to think too hard about.”

“Then what about a kids’ cartoon? Like Bluey,” you suggest.

“No, no. I’m not in the mood for something for kids.” He sticks out his tongue while he scrolls. His cuteness is going to send you into an overload. Usually, he takes charge of things and lets you be the cute one. When he gets like this, it’s such a special sight for you to take in all the softness he locks away behind his more serious personality.

You are just happy to be next to him, watching him go through each genre until something strikes him. You kind of zone out merrily, until you hear slight groaning next to you. Jihoon’s face is twisted up in frustration. He’s getting overwhelmed again and fusses over the TV remote.

“I can’t choose,” he says, voice choking up a little bit.

You take the initiative to place your hand on his and gently set the remote down on the coffee table. You place your other hand on his cheek and turn him to face you. You smile and kiss his nose while softly assuring, “It’s okay. They give way too many options, right? If you want, I can pick, okay?”

Jihoon’s hand intertwines with yours, grabbing at your fingers and rubbing your palms. He nods and breathes, calming down more and more. You turn your attention to the TV and select a shojo anime you both have seen about a million times and restart it from the first episode. The tension you both were once holding onto in your shoulders finally relaxes as you both sit back and watch the opening credits. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” you say as you jolt up from your seat and walk toward your bedroom. “Be right back.” 

Jihoon follows you with eyes wide until you disappear into your room. He’s curious why you’ve run off and how long your errand will take. Not long, apparently, as you reappear within a minute holding velvet soft plushies for you both to cuddle. You return to your seat and settle into the back cushion of the couch placing a cat plushie in Jihoon’s arms. You place a bear plushie on the opposite side of you and let Jihoon settle into your outstretched arm, laying his head on your chest. It’s a position you usually take when you watch TV together, and you are glad he finds your chest as comfortable and secure as you find his.

The popcorn disappears about a quarter of the way into the second episode. You didn’t realize how hungry you were. You sit idly watching the cute female protagonist miss all the cues that the people around her are instantly infatuated with her. You try to focus on the cute little plot, but you are interrupted by a small growling sound.

You look at Jihoon then to his stomach then back to his face. His eyes are wide, and his face is red. You laugh quietly, “Ready for candy?”

“Actually, can we make ramen? I’m hungry for more than snacks.” 

“Of course, coming right up!” you say as you get up to move to the kitchen. It’s a little surprising when footsteps follow. “You want to help?” you question your sudden shadow.

Jihoon nods his head silently. For what it’s worth, he does fill a pot with water while you find a few packs of ramen. While the water boils, however, his version of helping beyond that is just to stand behind you with his arms around your waist, laying his head on your back. This kind of white noise is your favorite. Nothing but low TV chatter from the characters in a sweet shojo, the sound of water boiling, and soft breathing. You’re relaxed and hope that Jihoon feels the same way. You want him to decompress and let go of all the stress of the day. You know that eventually, he will have to talk about it to process it though. For now, you stir the pot with long chopsticks making sure the noodles are not too hard and not too soft.

You bring the pot and two pairs of chopsticks to the coffee table, making sure to put it on a heat resistant mat. Jihoon’s arms remain around you as he shuffles along with you every step of the way. With a huff, he finally lets you go as he sits back on the couch, but he does wait for you with open arms.

“Do you want me to feed you, too?” you laugh as you settle in next to him. He’s a little clingy, but it’s rare to see him so dependent on anyone else. In these small moments, you indulge him and genuinely do wish you could do everything for him so that he doesn’t have to think, or overthink, about it.

“No! I can eat by myself,” he responds, flustered. He grabs the chopsticks and takes mouthfuls of ramen. You let him fill up a bit first and swoop in for your share when he’s had his fill. The ramen disappears, and so do all of the treats while the anime plays comfortingly in the background. Jihoon is snuggled up with his head leaning against you, and you notice his eyes drooping heavier and heavier.

Before he completely knocks out, you get his attention, “Hey,” you start softly, “want to start getting ready for bed?”

Jihoon slowly lifts his head and nods while rubbing his eyes. Sometimes he reminds you of a sweet little kitten with the way he pouts with his pink lips. You kiss him before standing up and bringing him to stand with you. He grabs both of the fluffy companions from the couch, then he follows you like a little duck to the bedroom. You both breeze through your nightly routine. Jihoon is in bed with his arms out, again, waiting for you to join him.

“Wait here, I’m going to clean up the living room a little bit,” you say and turn for the door.

He pouts, “But I want you here.”

“I know, and I will be. Just let me take care of the dishes really fast.”

“I’ll help.” He begins to move the blanket covering him, disrupting the position of his new friend, the cat plushie.

“No, stay there. I got it. Just wait a bit, okay?” You smile at him reassuringly. He huffs and finally relents. You take care of the small mess left behind and muse on the way Jihoon has been acting. His clinginess getting the best of him was a sign. He was much more bothered than you originally thought. It is very cute and refreshing to see him get all needy. It reminds you that he needs you just like how you need him. He doesn’t say it all that often, but when you can feel it, feel that he needs you, it just solidifies your feelings for him even more.

But there is still something else. Something he’s not asking for, distracting himself with hugs and kisses so he’ll feel better without confronting what’s really going on. You hope it isn’t something he’s had to endure for a long time. He’s prone to do that, to endure alone and not let anyone help him. He thinks he can handle it himself without bothering anyone. He doesn’t understand that it’s not a bother. You resolve to talk about it with him no matter what. No matter how cute and sweet he’ll act when you get back to him.

With everything cleaned and your mind made up, you enter the bedroom again and are met with those same open arms. You settle into your spot, getting all comfortable. You turn in on Jihoon, and he rotates without hesitation until his back is against your chest. You enjoy the smell of his shampoo and lay a soft kiss to the back of his head. You wrap your arms around him tight and he holds on to them for dear life. It almost makes you feel bad that you have to make him a little uncomfortable, but it will help him sleep at night. You just lay there, breathing in sync, then you take a deep breath which disrupts the rhythm you have going with Jihoon.

“Hey,” you ease into the difficult conversation, “I know today was hard for you. I was just wondering… what happened?”

Jihoon buries his face in his pillow, “I don’t want to think about it.”

“I know, I know.” You stroke his hand, hoping to bring some comfort to his stressed out mind. “Talking about it will help you get through it, though. Can’t avoid it forever. It’ll come back to bite you.” You emphasize your words by pinching his arm in a playful attack. It lightens the mood a little and provokes a giggle to rise out of Jihoon.

“It’s just…” Jihoon begins cautiously, “my job can be stressful. It’s already hard enough to meet everyone else’s standards. When I can’t even meet my own, I feel… useless.”

You rub gentle circles on Jihoon’s arms and hands as he talks. You listen and understand how he’s feeling. He’s always been a type-A perfectionist since you’ve known him. It’s kind of stupid, but sometimes you let yourself think that his talent means that nothing is hard for him; he just does so well all the time and then acts as if it’s not a big deal. Of course, it sometimes is a big deal. He always burns so hot and bright for a long time, but even stars burn out eventually. This is the burnout; an increasingly frustrating time that leads to being so overwhelmed he cries alone in the Universe Factory. It’s a good thing that he’s not alone right now, though.

“You’re not useless; you just need some help. I know you’ll figure it out because you are a musical genius,” you respond. Your breath tickles his ear as you speak.

“You know I hate that word. ‘Genius’. A genius should be able to do it without help.” His voice starts cracking, and your heart breaks a little hearing it.

“No, no. It’s not easy being so smart. You’re the one that has to make the smart decisions. Being stupid is easy because the easy decision is to give up. It’s hard to keep going. Once you figure it out, that is what makes you a genius. I know you are smart enough to keep going and to figure it out. You can start by making the smart decision to reach out for some help on this.” You feel Jihoon relax in your arms, tension melting away from his shoulders. Your words reached him.

“I’ve never thought of it like that.” His voice is even again. You can’t see the look on his face, but you can tell he’s having a revelation. “I think I’m whelmed, now. Thank you,” he says simply. He moves to reveal his face. The tears that were once welling in his heart have disappeared. They don’t get to fall tonight.

“I’m glad,” you tilt his face toward you and capture his lips in a kiss. You settle once again into the spoon, somehow more comfortable than before. Jihoon falls asleep with a blissful slight smile on his face.

[cailinsblog]

Pit Stop for the Heart-Daniel ricciardo

Daniel ricciardo x reader

Masterlist

It had been a whirlwind season for Daniel Ricciardo. The late nights, the early mornings, the races across continents—it was all part of the glamorous and grueling world of Formula One. But today, for the first time in a long while, Daniel was home. No races. No press conferences. Just a rare, precious day off. And the best part? He got to spend it with Y/N.

They were in their cozy apartment in Melbourne, a place that felt like an oasis from the chaos of the track. The walls were adorned with small mementos from their travels, the soft scent of fresh coffee filled the air, and outside, the city buzzed with life, but inside their little sanctuary, everything felt peaceful.

Y/N was already up when Daniel had finally stirred from his deep sleep. The sun was creeping through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. She was sitting by the window, wrapped in one of Daniel’s oversized T-shirts, her hair a tangled mess from the night’s sleep. A soft smile played on her lips as she sipped her morning coffee, the mug held delicately between her hands.

Daniel, still groggy from his rest, propped himself up on his elbows, watching her with fondness. He loved moments like this—quiet mornings, no rush, no expectations. Just the two of them, sharing their space.

“Morning, love,” Daniel murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N glanced over, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him awake. "Hey there, sleepyhead," she teased, setting her coffee down on the table before walking over to him.

Daniel stretched lazily, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I’m still trying to recover from that race in Monaco. Think I deserve a nap till tomorrow?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was soft and full of affection. She leaned over the bed, brushing a lock of hair from his face. “You’ve been saying that all week. You need to stop using the race as an excuse. I think the only thing that’s exhausted you is your love for your own bed.”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Guilty. But you’re the one who kept me up late last night,” he teased, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer, his hands finding her waist as he nuzzled into her neck.

Y/N giggled, her skin tingling from his touch. "Oh, I kept you up, huh? I don’t remember anything special about last night."

"Well, that’s because I was too busy falling asleep with you in my arms to remember," Daniel said with a cheeky smile. “I’ve missed this. Just being here with you, no races, no cameras.”

Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, a quiet warmth blooming in her chest. "I’ve missed this too. You’re always so busy, but when we get time like this, it feels perfect."

The sound of Daniel’s phone vibrating on the nightstand interrupted their moment of peace. He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes, but reluctantly reached for it.

“Always something,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. It was a text from his team, reminding him about a few upcoming meetings and obligations. He groaned and tossed the phone aside, more focused on Y/N than the demands of his career. “You know, I swear, sometimes I think I’d rather spend my whole life with you in this bed and forget about everything else.”

Y/N smiled at his words, feeling a little flutter in her chest. “Don’t say that too loudly, or I might take it seriously.” She winked playfully, then added, “But I’d be okay with it, if you are.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, his hands slowly moving to trace the curve of her back. “You’d be okay with living a quiet life, just you and me? No Formula One, no traveling? Just the two of us, forever?”

“Sounds pretty perfect to me,” she replied softly, her voice sincere.

Daniel’s eyes softened as he gazed at her, his heart swelling with affection. “You’re my perfect, Y/N. Everything else? It’s just noise. It’s always been you.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She kissed him gently, savoring the sweetness of the moment, then pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Well, you better get used to me then, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Daniel grinned. “Good. Because I’d probably be pretty miserable without you.”

They stayed like that for a while, the world outside moving on without them, while inside, everything felt just right. There were no grand gestures or speeches. It was just the simplicity of being together, in their little world where nothing else mattered.

Eventually, Daniel reluctantly pulled himself up, stretching his arms out. “Alright, fine. We’ll have to leave the bed sometime today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure? I’m fine staying here a little longer.”

“Maybe later,” Daniel said with a playful smirk, “but right now, I’m thinking breakfast. How does your famous pancakes sound?”

Y/N chuckled. “You just want pancakes because I’m the only one who makes them the way you like.”

“And because you’re the best at it,” Daniel added, his smile softening as he looked at her. “How about I help?”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Help. You’re probably better off sticking to pouring the coffee.”

He grinned. “Deal. I’ll make the coffee. You make the pancakes. And I’ll eat both, as long as you’re there beside me.”

After a lazy breakfast filled with laughter and the occasional teasing, Daniel and Y/N spent the day exploring the city, hand in hand. They stopped by a little café near the water, where they sat outside with coffee and pastries, watching the world go by. No cameras, no team obligations. Just the two of them enjoying each other’s company.

Later, as the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over everything, Daniel turned to Y/N, his expression serious for the first time all day. “You know, sometimes I wish we could just keep days like this forever.”

Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can have more of them. We just have to make them count.”

Daniel nodded, the smile returning to his face. “We’ll make it work, then. You, me, and as many lazy days as we can steal.”

As they walked back to their apartment, with the cool evening air gently brushing their faces, Daniel realized just how much he cherished these moments with her. No race could compare to the comfort of having her by his side, and no trophy would ever be as precious as the quiet moments they shared together.

And so, even in the world of high-speed racing and relentless competition, Daniel Ricciardo had found his perfect pit stop—right in the arms of the woman he loved.

💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕

[solxamber]

Holding Them Close and Not Letting Go with: Vice Housewardens + Rollo, Neige

Ortho is platonic!

Other Parts: Housewardens + Jamil

Trey Clover

The kitchen is warm, the faint smell of vanilla and caramelized sugar hanging in the air as Trey wipes his hands on his apron. He’s just finished frosting a tray of cakes for the Unbirthday Party, and he cuts a sliver off for you to try.

“Here,” he says, holding it up with a small smile. “Open up.”

The sweetness melts on your tongue, perfect as always. “Delicious,” you murmur, stepping closer to him. “You’re amazing.”

Trey chuckles, a soft, self-effacing sound. “It’s just cake.”

But before he can say more, you wrap your arms around him. He stiffens briefly in surprise, then his hands settle firmly on your back, holding you in return. His hugs are steady and grounding, as if he’s built to hold everything together.

You don’t let go. Not even when the seconds stretch long enough for him to tilt his head and glance down at you.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Instead of answering, you squeeze him tighter. “I just love you,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest. “You’re my favorite, Trey.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, his breath catching. The words sink deeper than you probably meant them to, reaching a part of him he rarely lets anyone see. Trey’s always been the steady one, the dependable one, the one people count on—but being a pillar can get lonely. Sometimes he wonders if anyone sees the cracks he carefully hides beneath his calm demeanor.

But you do. Somehow, you always do.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something unspoken as he tucks his chin over your head. His arms tighten around you, pulling you as close as he can. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

He doesn’t say the rest—that sometimes he worries he’s only as good as the things he can make, the roles he can fill. But the way you hold him, like he’s the one thing you don’t want to let go of, tells him he doesn’t have to say it.

“I love you too,” Trey says, his smile brushing against your hair. “And… I don’t mind if you hold on for a little longer.”

Neither of you let go for a long time.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie strolls up with a grin, holding a donut split neatly in half. “Here, thought you might want a bite,” he says, wiggling one half at you like it’s the best deal you’ll get all day.

Before he can say anything else, you lunge forward and wrap your arms tightly around him, nearly knocking the treat out of his hand.

“Whoa, whoa—easy there, hyena’s fragile!” he jokes, laughing as he tries to balance the donut in one hand while patting your back with the other. “What’s this about, huh? Didja miss me that bad?”

But when you don’t loosen your grip after a few seconds, his teasing falters. He glances down at you, ears twitching as concern creeps into his expression. “Hey, what’s wrong? You okay?”

You tighten your arms around him, burying your face against his chest. “I just… I can’t believe you wanted to share with me,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “You could’ve kept it all for yourself, but you didn’t. And I love you for that. I’ll always be on your side, Ruggie.”

For a moment, he’s frozen, the words hitting him like a bolt out of the blue. Ruggie’s used to looking out for himself, clawing his way through a world that rarely gives him anything without a fight. Sharing isn’t just an act of kindness for him—it’s an act of trust, something he doesn’t offer lightly.

And here you are, hugging him like he’s the most important person in your world, as if that small gesture means everything.

A soft laugh escapes him, quieter this time, and he sets the donut down on a nearby surface. His arms come around you, holding you fiercely, almost desperately, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “You make me feel like… like maybe I don’t have to fight so hard all the time.”

His ears twitch again, betraying the flood of emotions he’s not sure how to say out loud. But the way he holds you—tight and unyielding—says everything.

“I got your back too, y’know,” Ruggie adds after a moment, his grin returning, though softer now. “So don’t go anywhere, yeah? You’re stuck with me.”

And even if the donut’s forgotten, neither of you are in a rush to let go.

Jade Leech

Jade gestures toward the terrarium with his usual composed elegance, his voice calm and full of quiet pride as he explains the delicate ecosystem he’s cultivated. “This particular mushroom is quite fascinating. It thrives in low-light environments and has a symbiotic relationship with the moss surrounding it…”

Before he can finish, you lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him and catching him completely off guard.

“Oh?” he murmurs, his tone still smooth, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Well, this is unexpected. Should I assume my explanation moved you to tears, or…?”

His teasing smile falters slightly as the seconds tick by and you show no sign of letting go. His hands hover for a moment before coming to rest lightly on your back. “Are you quite alright? Have I said something to upset you?” he asks softly, concern slipping into his voice despite his usual composed demeanor.

You squeeze him tighter, burying your face against his chest. “I’m fine. I just… I love you,” you say, your voice muffled but sincere. “I love how passionate you are about all this. You’re amazing, and I hope you know that.”

For a moment, Jade is still. Compliments aren’t unfamiliar to him, but genuine praise, untainted by ulterior motives, is rare. It’s even rarer for someone to look past his polished exterior and notice the part of him that finds joy in quiet, peculiar hobbies.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and rumbling in his chest as he pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you. “You’re quite the enigma yourself, you know,” he says, his teasing tone returning, though softer now. “Most people would find my interests… unusual, at best. But you, it seems, are rather fond of them—and me.”

There’s a pause, his usual composure giving way to something more vulnerable, though it’s masked by his playful smile. “I must admit, having someone like you by my side… it makes everything feel a great deal brighter.”

He leans down slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Thank you, truly. For seeing me—not just the surface, but everything beneath it.”

You feel his arms tighten once more, his grip firm but tender, as though anchoring himself to the moment. The terrarium sits forgotten behind him, but the glimmer in his mismatched eyes tells you he’s found something far more precious in your embrace.

Rook Hunt

The sharp knock on your window is startling but not surprising. Only Rook could make such an unconventional entrance seem like an everyday occurrence.

“Mon trésor!” he exclaims as you open the window to let him in, his voice melodic and his smile as radiant as ever. He swings himself inside with practiced ease, landing as gracefully as a performer taking center stage. “Ah, to witness your beauty in the glow of the afternoon sun—it is a blessing beyond compare!”

You don’t say anything in response. Instead, you step forward and wrap your arms tightly around him, catching him mid-gesture. His dramatic speech cuts off instantly, his body stiffening for a fraction of a second before he melts into the embrace.

“Mon cher, what is this?” he asks, his tone softer now, the usual flourish replaced by gentle concern. His arms come to rest around you, his hand brushing the back of your head tenderly. “You seem unsettled. Is something troubling you? Please, tell me.”

“I’m fine,” you murmur into his chest, squeezing him even tighter. “I just… I love you so much, Rook. I don’t know what to do with it sometimes.”

For a moment, Rook is silent—a rare thing for him. Then, he lets out a soft laugh, light and airy, as he effortlessly lifts you off the ground in his arms. “Ah, mon amour,” he breathes, holding you close as he spins once before settling you back on your feet. “Your words are arrows straight to my heart, more potent than any I’ve ever loosed from my bow.”

His voice wavers slightly, betraying an emotion he doesn’t often show. You feel his arms tighten around you as he rests his chin atop your head. “You see me,” he says quietly, almost as if to himself. “Not as strange or unsettling, not as the man others whisper about behind their hands. But as I am.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his green eyes shimmering with a mix of wonder and gratitude. “To have someone who understands, who doesn’t flinch away… Mon trésor, it is more than I ever dared hope for.”

You reach up to brush a lock of hair from his face, smiling warmly. “You’re not strange to me, Rook. You’re passionate and honest and so full of life it’s contagious. That’s why I love you.”

Rook lets out a soft, shuddering breath, his lips curving into a smile that’s more genuine than any you’ve ever seen. “And I, mon amour, am yours completely. To have your love, your understanding… It is a gift I shall cherish until my final breath.”

His arms envelop you once more, his hold fierce yet gentle, as if anchoring himself to you. In that moment, Rook is not the flamboyant huntsman or the dramatic poet. He’s simply a man who has found solace in your embrace, and for him, that’s everything.

Ortho Shroud

“Let’s lift it on three, okay?” Ortho’s chipper voice carries a note of determination as his metallic fingers grip the heavy object. You nod, bracing yourself.

“One, two, three!”

With ease that makes your own effort seem laughable, Ortho hoists his side, carefully adjusting his movements to match yours. Together, you maneuver the cumbersome object into place. As soon as it’s done, you let out a relieved sigh, straightening up.

“Thanks, Ortho. I couldn’t have done that without you,” you say.

“No problem at all! I’m always happy to help!” His eyes gleam with a bright, genuine energy.

Without thinking, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. Ortho stiffens slightly, his glowing core humming softly under your touch.

“Calculating,” he says after a moment, his voice shifting into an analytical tone. “Probability of distress detected: 63%. Likelihood of external stressor contributing: 47%.” He pulls back just enough to scan your face, his mechanical pupils adjusting. “Are you okay? Should I alert my brother or—”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Ortho. Really. I just wanted to hug you.”

His head tilts slightly, his processors whirring audibly. “But… you’ve been hugging me for longer than average. Are you sure you’re not—”

“Ortho,” you interrupt gently, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re like a little brother to me. I don’t say it enough, but I’m so glad I met you.”

His eyes flicker for a moment, a soft blue light radiating from them as his arms loop around you again. This time, the hug feels more deliberate, more thoughtful. “You… think of me as your little brother?” he asks, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“Of course I do,” you say. “You’re warm, kind, and you always look out for everyone. I love you, you’re my person.”

His core glows brighter, the light spreading through the seams of his frame. “That makes me… really happy,” he says, his tone full of sincerity. “Thank you. It’s nice to know I can mean so much to someone, even though I’m not like everyone else.”

You feel his arms tighten, the mechanical plates surprisingly soft and warm against you. Despite his synthetic nature, Ortho’s embrace feels alive, radiating a kind of affection that transcends what he’s made of.

“I’m glad I have you too,” he says softly. “And if you ever need help—or another hug—I’ll always be here.”

The moment lingers, filled with a quiet, heartfelt warmth that feels entirely human.

Lilia Vanrouge

The cacophony of clattering pans and the unmistakable scent of something slightly burnt fills the air as you step into the kitchen. Lilia is there, of course, humming a cheerful tune as he stirs something in a pot that looks…questionable at best.

“Ah, my dear! Come to witness my culinary genius in action?” he teases, turning to you with a grin that promises mischief. “Don’t worry, tonight’s dish is only mildly experimental.”

Instead of responding, you step closer and wrap your arms around him. He stiffens for only a second, the spoon in his hand pausing mid-air.

“Well, well! What’s this? Is my cooking so irresistible that you can’t help but embrace the chef?” he chuckles, patting your back lightly. “I must say, I am flattered—”

You don’t let go.

The teasing stops. Slowly, Lilia sets the spoon down, his hands hesitantly resting on your arms. “Are you alright, my dear?” he asks, his tone softer now, a rare seriousness creeping in.

You pull back just enough to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. “I’m fine,” you say, your voice steady. “I just wanted to say I love you, Lilia.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then, with a tenderness that feels out of place in the chaos of the kitchen, he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you as though he’s afraid to let go.

Lilia has lived lifetimes, far longer than most could even fathom. He has loved deeply, and he has lost even more. Those memories—the joys, the sorrows—are etched into his very being, woven into the fabric of who he is. Yet, as he holds you, your warmth grounding him in this fleeting moment, it all seems strangely… alright.

It’s a curious thing, how someone so young compared to his endless years can make him feel like he has all the time in the world. Your words settle into the cracks of his ancient heart, soothing wounds he thought he’d long grown used to.

“You,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent, “are a rare treasure, you know that?”

He pulls back slightly, just enough to press his forehead against yours, his eyes glimmering with something unspoken. “Thank you,” he whispers, his usual playful lilt replaced by something achingly sincere. “For reminding me that some things… are worth staying for.”

You smile, reaching up to gently brush a stray strand of his hair aside. “Always,” you reply.

For now, the burnt concoction on the stove is forgotten. All that matters is the warmth shared in that quiet, timeless embrace.

Rollo Flamme

The scratch of a quill against parchment fills the room as Rollo sits at his desk, meticulously reviewing council documents. The weight of responsibility hangs heavy in the air, but his posture remains rigid and determined, as always.

You step into the room quietly, watching him work. He doesn’t notice you at first, so focused on the task at hand. Without a word, you step closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind and leaning your head on his shoulder.

Rollo freezes, the quill stilling mid-word. “What’s this?” he asks softly, his voice betraying a flicker of confusion. “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer, only holding him tighter. The silence stretches, and Rollo turns his head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. “Are you upset? Did something happen?” His voice is tinged with worry now, his hands lifting hesitantly as though unsure whether to pry you off or comfort you.

Finally, you pull back just enough to let him rise from the chair, only to wrap your arms around him again, holding him close. He stiffens for a brief moment before your words break through.

“I just love you, Rollo,” you say quietly, your voice steady but full of emotion. “And I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, your words sinking into the guarded corners of his heart. Then, with a quiet exhale, he returns your embrace, fiercely pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you as though he never wants to let go.

Rollo has spent much of his life hiding behind walls of duty and principles, convinced that such things are safer than letting himself feel. Love, to him, has always seemed an ideal that exists for others—too volatile, too consuming. But with you, it feels different. Gentle. Steady. Filling in the spaces he thought were better left empty.

“You truly mean that,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I… I love you too.”

He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he presses his face into the crook of your neck, letting the warmth of your embrace wash over him. You’ve given him something he never thought he could have: a love that asks for nothing but him, no pretense, no perfection.

In your arms, the weight of his responsibilities seems a little lighter. The quiet strength you offer him fills the hollows of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, he feels whole.

Neige LeBlanche

Neige steps through the door, his cheerful voice calling out your name. He’s just returned from a long day of shooting—flashing cameras, endless praise, and the kind of adoration most would envy. Yet the first thing he does upon seeing you is drop his bags and rush over, throwing his arms around you with a delighted laugh.

“I’m home!” he says brightly, his voice as warm as sunlight. “You have no idea how much I—oh!” His words are cut off as you pull him into a tight embrace, holding him like you’ll never let go.

He chuckles softly, returning the hug. “Well, someone missed me,” he teases, nuzzling into your hair. But when you don’t respond right away, his laughter falters. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his smile dimming with concern. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You shake your head, a soft smile spreading across your face. “No, nothing happened. I just… love you, Neige. And I missed you. That’s all.”

For a moment, Neige is silent, his wide eyes searching yours. Then his smile returns, softer and more genuine than ever. He pulls you close again, this time holding you as if you’re the only thing grounding him. “I missed you too,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

To the world, Neige is perfect. Always cheerful, always radiant, always the picture of kindness and grace. But deep down, he carries the quiet fear that all of it—the admiration, the love, the endless praise—might be shallow and fleeting. He’s spent so much of his life performing, giving, making himself into someone people want to see.

But with you, there’s no act, no need to be anything other than himself. And in moments like this, he realizes how much that means. You see him—the real him—and love him for it, not for the glitz and glamour or the person he is in front of the cameras.

Neige relaxes against you, his head resting on your shoulder, the warmth of your embrace soothing the doubts that linger in the corners of his mind. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice carrying all the gratitude he can’t quite put into words.

Being with you feels like coming home, and in your arms, he can finally just be Neige—not a star, not an idol, but simply someone who loves and is loved in return.

Masterlist

[sakashq]

Love Drought. jude bellingham x fem!reader

🤍 summary: After his move to Real Madrid, Jude hasn’t been the same loving boyfriend you once had.

🤍 wc: 600+

🤍 warnings: y/n usage. I HATE IT. oh and angst! sorry guys 💕💕💕

🤍 yap! this is based on my current situation i fear 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️ i swear this is the last time i’ll bring my ex into my work💔

🤍 my girls <3 EXTRA SPECIAL dedication to @hrts4havertz because she is jude’s wife i fear. and to @ar4ujos @halfwayhearted @iovepoem @joaoflms &&. @planetpedri

Flexibility was always something you were capable of. So when your boyfriend Jude signed a contract for a team in Spain, of course you agreed to make the move for him. You loved the beauty of Spain anyway and ended up residing in the heart of the country. Besides, if things didn’t work out, you would still want to live here. You had made new friends and gotten a better job than the one back in Germany — life was just better in Spain.

Until it came time for him to actually play for the team. With Dortmund, Jude was amazing at balancing both you and his career. But now at this higher-level club, it seemed like he had just pushed you aside and only worried about his new club. It was great that he was focused on making the team proud, but that left zero time for you. Whenever he was home (he was always out with his new teammates), he’d barely acknowledge you and brush things off. Your friends called it the “Madrid curse.” Once signing with the team, they brainwash you. Obviously it was a silly joke, but sometimes it lingered in the back of your mind. Was this club destroying your relationship?

You never brought it up because you didn’t wanna seem selfish. He’s focusing on his career, he’s doing big things! That’s amazing, is it not? If you brought it up, it’d just make you seem like a jealous girlfriend. Even if you kind of were.

It got to the point where dates didn’t happen either. Someone who used to try and take you out once a week now only glanced at you once a week, every other time getting ready for football or hanging out with his new football friends. It was all him, him, him. Never any time for you.

Okay, that’s fine. He’s trying to establish relationships with his new teammates. But what about the relationship he already had? The one with his loving and loyal girlfriend that moved across the continent for him? Why was there no time for her?

For the first time in ages, the two of you were sat on the couch together. You sat away from him, sitting in nothing but silence. He looked over at you, raising a brow.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t seem too fine. Talk to me,” he responded, his body now turned and facing you.

You stared blankly at him, unsure if you really wanted to talk to him right now. You sighed, deciding communication was probably needed in this situation. “You barely have time for me anymore. I get it, you’ve joined a new club and you need to bond with your teammates. But do you really need to every night?”

He looked at you, almost as if he was going to laugh. “So you’re jealous of Vini, Aurélien, and Eduardo is what I’m hearing?”

“Jude, I’m being serious.” You looked at him, your face and body language very solemn.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, hear me out. You get ready, dress and wear whatever you want however you want and I take you wherever you wanna go.”

You frowned saying, “You don’t get it. Weeks of craving your attention, and you think it’ll just be resolved by one date. It’s just gonna go back to the way it was afterwards.”

“Well what do you want me to do, Y/n? I’m trying here,” his voice raised a little, startling you. “I can’t make time for Madrid and you.”

Your face dropped, your heart going with it. If you weren’t upset then, you definitely were now. What did he mean by that? “So you could with Dortmund but you can’t now because it’s a slightly bigger club? You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“It’s a lot more draining with Madrid, Y/n. You don’t get it,” he shrugged.

“No, I get it. It’s fine, do what you wanna do. You’re gonna realize how good you had it when it’s gone.” You got up from the couch, grabbing your car keys off the coffee table and heading for the door.

Jude got up, ready to chase after you immediately. “Y/n, come on, we can talk about this. Y/n.”

You opened the door, shutting it behind you. Jude followed not too long after.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. Okay, that was a dickhead move. But you leaving doesn’t solve the problem,” he told you. He had a point, sure, but you were mad at him. No way he was gonna win. He was just worried about whether or not you’d be coming back. He loved you dearly, even if he wasn’t currently showing. You leaving upset with him destroyed him. The thought of something happening to you while you were still mad at him paralysed him. He didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself if something happened.

“Okay, what?” You turned around.

“Come back inside,” he pleaded, his brown eyes begging with him.

Not giving in to his pleas you replied, “No. I can’t get a conversation with you and now you wanna talk. I’m done trying.”

“I know, I know, I fucked up. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just… saying stuff. I don’t want to lose you.” Your heart broke seeing his face, shattering into a million different pieces. Maybe he really wanted to try, or maybe this was just a manipulative move to get you to stay. Either way, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Please just talk to me.”

You sighed, not responding but walking back over to him. And after a lengthy conversation, everything was okay again. It wasn’t like how it was before, but things were starting to look up. You two agreed to communicate more and take days off just to spend it with each other. After all this, it ended right where it started— the two of you sitting on the coach together, this time with you in his arms.

[caitified]

kate x model?

model

kate martin x reader

warnings: jealously, i used them as the pronouns if i haven’t done this for other fics and you want me to switch i can! maybe a part 2 where they go to an event or something lmk

kate never expected herself to be the jealous type. she was grounded, confident in who she was, and knew she didn’t need anyone else’s validation. but dating you – with the world’s attention on you, people leaving adoring comments and celebrities tagging you in every other post – it brought out a side of her she hadn’t seen before. she had experienced some of this herself, but this was different.

she’d scroll through your posts sometimes, reading the comments that poured in after each new campaign, each runway shot, and couldn’t help feeling a tight knot in her chest. it was a mix of pride and something deeper, something almost possessive.

“can you blame them?” she muttered to herself, eyeing a recent photo dump you posted recently. but then she’d read comments like, “god, [y/n] is unreal. if i had a shot, i’d never let them go,” and it’d make her bite her lip, trying to shake off the small pang of jealousy creeping in.

she knew it was silly – she knew you loved her, had shown her countless times, but still… seeing the world fawn over you, knowing how much attention you attracted, it made her wonder if one day you’d realize just how many options you had.

one evening, after you wrapped a big photoshoot, you came home to find kate in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone. she quickly put it down when she heard you come in, flashing you a warm smile, but you noticed the slight tension in her shoulders.

“hey, you,” you said softly, crossing the room to wrap your arms around her from behind. “missed you today.”

she leaned back into your embrace, letting out a sigh as you kissed her neck. “missed you too.” her voice was soft, but you could sense something was on her mind.

“everything okay?” you asked gently, turning her around to face you. your eyes met hers, searching.

kate hesitated, then let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “yeah, it’s just… sometimes it’s weird, you know? seeing all those comments. all these people who think they know you, who say things like they… like they could just be with you.” she looked down, almost sheepish. “i know it’s stupid. i know i’m the one who gets to be with you, but sometimes… i don’t know. i just get a little jealous.”

you reached up, cupping her face, guiding her gaze back to yours. “kate, you have nothing to worry about,” you whispered, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “those people don’t know me like you do. they don’t know how much i love the way you make me laugh when no one’s around, or how you hold me when i’m stressed, or the way you look at me like i’m the only one in the room.”

she felt her cheeks warm, but her lips curled into a shy smile, the tension in her shoulders easing.

“besides,” you continued, your voice dropping as you leaned in close, lips barely grazing hers, “you’re the only one i want looking at me like that. you’re the only one who gets all of me, every piece.”

she let out a soft breath, her hands slipping to your waist, pulling you flush against her. “you have no idea what that does to me,” she murmured, her voice a bit huskier now. “i may not love sharing you with the world, but… you make it worth it.”

the intensity in her gaze sent shivers through you, and you melted into her as she kissed you deeply, her hands gripping you with a quiet need that told you everything she couldn’t put into words.

when you finally pulled back, her eyes were warm, but that fierce spark was still there. “you’re mine,” she murmured, almost to herself, as if to reaffirm it.

“always,” you whispered back, your fingers lacing with hers. you gave her hand a squeeze, grounding her in that quiet promise that she was the only one for you.