#text: My World ♥️

[orange-dreamzer]

Just a quick reminder (especially if you're a teenager) because my friends recently have started "diets" which sound pretty harmful actually: especially as a teenager or child you are Expected to eat lots of carbohydrates and also likely fats and glucose and gain calories so that your body can properly build itself!!! Please don't do harmful diets no matter how skinny or pretty you want to be!!! Being pretty means NOTHING if you're not healthy!

[pepprs]

lmaooooo i think i need to quit teaching forever and also bury myself in a hole. lol

[littlestpetship]

this card is the cutest ever aahhh!!! (T_T ) riddle looks so gentle and happy...

[tinycoffeeroom]

more than enough | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍 Miami

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others

landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!

See 997,729 other comments

fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden

oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!

maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris

mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris

fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him

fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week

fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends

liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others

f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.

fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????

fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you

fan i have a knife.

fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???

fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men

fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear

It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 

Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 

He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 

The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 

When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 

–

To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 

Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 

Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 

God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 

And maybe he was. 

If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 

Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 

He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”

He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”

The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 

–

Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 

The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 

Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 

As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 

Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 

Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 

He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 

You were crying. And he had no idea why. 

Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 

Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 

You’d locked the door. 

In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 

The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”

He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 

He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”

More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”

He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”

“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 

“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”

He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”

He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”

Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 

He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”

Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 

He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 

This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 

The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”

You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”

He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”

Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 

You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 

Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”

He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 

[folkloresthings]

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.

in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.

( charles leclerc x singer!au )

track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.

✩⡱ warnings: like one curse word

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oliviarodrigo, charlieputh, and 738,928 others

yourusername baby’s too pretty to be put in the corner

view all 56,914 comments

landonorris BARK BARK

user mother is mothering

sza i’m so in love with you it’s silly

charles_leclerc pretty indeed

⤷ user unhinged charles spotted

⤷ user he’s making moves people!!!

lewishamilton are y’all seeing what i’m seeing

yourusername added to their story!

TWITTER.

the pre—race buzz was electric in the ferrari garage, your phone pinging with messages beckoning you to the mercedes garage on the other end of the paddock. you knew lewis wanted to see you, he’d been the one to invite you to the race in the first place, but there was something pulling you to the room filled with red. someone.

“hello again,” your smile widened across your face as charles dodged past mechanics to find you by the wall. his decorated race suit adored his lean figure, but his head was still free of his helmet, despite the clock ticking closer to when he needed to be in the car.

that godforsaken smile of his mirrored your own, knees wobbling as soon as it graced your gaze. without thinking, his arms pulled you into a hug. a friendly one, to be sure. a happy to see you, no matter how your heart yearned for another reason. the emerald in his eyes shone down at you, that same look he’d given you when you’d first met all those weeks ago backstage before your show.

and now here you were, after weeks of texts and late night calls, staring at each other through a fog of tension, waiting with bated breath. he speaks first, and you try so desperately to ignore how his gloved fingers brush your wrist when he does.

“what are you doing tonight?”

you blink, his eyes hopeful for an answer. your head shakes, shoulders shrugging, brain nagging to be an ounce cooler than you were being right now. “i don’t know. why?”

“let me take you to dinner. it’ll be my prize, if i win,” he speaks quickly, as though he needs to say it before hesitancy can change his mind. that familiar lump of nerves turns in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. not since austin first asked you out — a feeling that had ended in catastrophe. could you face that kind of tumble again?

“charles, you have to go!” a voice nearby urges, every other driver already behind their wheels. urges him to move, and you to answer. his feet are moving backwards, slowly, but his eyes stay trained on you, awaiting your reply.

“well, you’d better win then.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername, and 762,629 others

charles_leclerc P1!!! so happy with today’s result, thanks to everyone who got me there ♥️ time to celebrate (even more)

view all 467,333 comments

scuderiaferrari YES! 🍾🍾🍾

user THE THIRD PIC???

⤷ user bro thinks he’s slick

yourusername congrats again!! super duper proud 💌

⤷ user the hair in the pic looks so much like hers oml

⤷ user she literally just got out of a relationship like five minutes ago

yourusername i think i trust you enough to teach me to drive now

⤷ charles_leclerc only now? ouch, my heart ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

⤷ lewishamilton STOP FLIRTING

INSTAGRAM.

liked by nicolacoughlan, zendaya, and 889,201 others

yourusername what the fuck is patience?

view all 661,820 comments

charli_xcx damned if i know

pheobebridgers a man? 🤢🤢🤢

⤷ yourusername so true bbz

user SQUINTING to see who the guy is

⤷ user maybe it’s just a friend?? who cares

⤷ user puh lease he got her flowers

charles_leclerc nice flower arrangement

⤷ yourusername i know a sexy florist, want his # ?

user I MOVED

TWITTER.

writer’s note: they’re getting there 😭 i’m emotionally attached to this fictional couple i can’t. fyi this is just a filler to move them along there’ll be drama soon dw

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ A couple of months after Jake’s (Evan’s friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evan’s shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surprise—one that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smutty—like you like it.

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5 | Read Part 6

Word count ─ 5.1K (I had a lot to say 🤫)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.” Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

Two months after Jake’s accident 

Thursday, 16:42 pm 

You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the city’s hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreat—if only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.

You’d think by now you’d have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.

As you’re fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brain’s fried, and next thing you know, you’re aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time it’s Evan’s name glowing like a beacon of your favourite “distraction,” and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.

Oh, hello, messages!

You open the chat, expecting a quick “I’ll be back in 10’, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you” text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger “yo” next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.

And here comes the string of messages:

“Babyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!” 

“he’s signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!” 

“ill bring it home and we frame it ;)” 

“we’re going live.. tune in xx” 

“changed into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so ♥️”

Let’s pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane – who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.

Because damn.

Todd’s cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the one—that half-cocked sly smile that screams, “Yeah, I know what I’m doing to do, and you’re welcome.”

You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. It’s weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him. 

Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheet’s waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, you’re remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, “let me tie your shoes, princess” way, but more of an arousing “let me worship you, queen,” Roman Empire situation.

Oh, yeah. That night. 

You’d seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting he’d ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like it’s cherry on dessert.

His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans. 

Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic… just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though you’re sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him. 

Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isn’t it?

But here’s the kicker. As much as you’d love for a repeat performance, that’s not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get it–one of Evan’s best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evan’s drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now. 

And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but you’re not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isn’t mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that he’s having it rough at the moment. You’ve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy. 

But you can’t help it. 

Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, let’s be real—he might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, you’re the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if that’s not worth waiting for, you don’t know what is.

You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but you’ve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and his—well, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality. 

That “we’re going live, tune in xx” text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be. 

Gasp.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.

The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now. 

You scramble up from the table so fast, you’d think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptid—always hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Don’t ask. Today? Who knows. You’re flipping couch cushions like you’re on an archaeological dig.

“WHERE IS IT?!” you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like you’re a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.

Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. It’s like the remote’s decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.

Curse you, technology masterminds.

Plan B. 

You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, and—oh no, what’s this? Your whole screen’s been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:

Software Update: 30% Complete.

Are. You. For. Real. 

You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend you’re not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, that’s placebo—no such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, you’ll be watching Evan’s interview in the past tense or through his narration once he’s back home. 

You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesn’t fail you amidst crisis. 

“Come on, come on,” you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on you—boom, there it is. The live stream. 

The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). He’s sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour. 

He’s got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But there’s also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when he’s either totally in his element or way too awkward. 

The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.

The next question is about Jake, as he’s guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. He’s adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now you’re all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.

You can see the shift in Evan’s face from media charm to something… darker, melancholic. He’s trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.

Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. “Yeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,” he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. “But there’s… a... there’s a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.”

For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just say—? He moved?!

Your heart does a somersault, and you can’t help it—you cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though you’re alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand. 

Evan lets the crowd’s enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. “It’s good news,” he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. “But let’s not start planning the parade just yet—there’s a long road ahead for him. We’ll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His family’s already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.”

There’s a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he’s got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your baby’s always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyone’s baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is. 

You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. There’s so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior. 

You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a “I’ve got you, you’re not alone” kind of way. You’ve been weathering this storm together, and it’s been tough as hell. It’s taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but he’s doing it. He’s really doing it...

There’s something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if there’s a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesn’t expect you to tackle it all just because you’re working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like “I have my life together and didn’t just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTube” level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.

So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado mode—scrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn calories—when your ears perk at the rustling sound. 

That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.

Baby Evan’s home.

You drop the sponge like it’s on fire and just bolt. You don’t even think. It’s pure instinct, like you’re a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, you’re flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.

Your man. Your whole heart.

He’s got his arms full—takeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hair’s a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.

“EVIEEEE!” you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.

“Whoa!” he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. He’s out of breath, but he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, you’re just tangled together—glued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyes—he’s just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are. 

“You have no idea,” you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like he’s been starved for weeks. You’re pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever… they can wait.

It’s not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, “I’m never letting you out of my reach again.” It’s deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.

You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that you’ve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.

“I was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,” he grumbles, and it’s a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an “awh, my poor baby” pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks. 

When he finally sets you down, you’re both grinning like idiots. Your heart’s doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied in—his laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like you’re a precious gem.

Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, “Did Jake really move?” Your voice is hopeful, but there’s a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.

He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Yeah. He really did.”

Before you can even process the relief, Evan’s lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. “Gosh, how much I needed you today,” he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.

You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. “Me too,” you huff out, because honestly, you feel like you’ve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.

But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. “Can we go see him now?”

Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. “Not tonight,” he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get it—you really do—but there’s still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. “How ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. “We’ll try tomorrow afternoon. His family’s still adjusting, but I’ll talk to them.”

The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, “Okay, great,” your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evan’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him. 

You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.

You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. “You know, we do live together, sir” you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.

“That’s a reminder in case you forgot,” he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.

He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like he’s fully aware of what he’s done, and he’s proud of it.

“Hey!” you whimper, swatting at him, but there’s no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.

“What?” he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “You look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hint—it’s not the burgers,” he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. There’s something about the way he’s staring down at you—like he’s hungry, and it’s not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasn’t there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

“Speaking of burgers, if food’s your love language, then you’re speaking mine fluently,” you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives you—whoa, buddy. Food’s officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like you’re the main course, dessert, and everything in between—like you’re the most appetising thing in the room.

And, let’s just say, he’s a lot more “warmed up” than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way he’s touching you are the real giveaway… The man’s practically simmering.

And oh, honey, you’re more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonight’s the night to put up a show… Literally. 

You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until you’re just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. “How about I pamper you tonight?”

You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesn’t shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosity—mixed with something darker, more primal. “Oh?” His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like he’s intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.

You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.

With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. “Sit tight, big boy,” you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. “This show’s just getting started.”

You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.

There it is: that little black number you’ve been saving for a night just like this. 

A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everything’s sitting just so. 

A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bun—tousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, he’s done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and you’re sorted.

When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.

His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenches—hard (hint: and not just his jaw).

The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.

“F-fuck,” he wheezes, like the breath’s been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look that’s pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in. 

You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that’s nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little more—a twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.

The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But you’re not giving in that easily. “Uh-uh,” you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile. 

His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can’t help but smirk. “I’m in charge tonight, remember?” 

Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, it’s delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerie—delicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift he’s dying to unwrap.

You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. He’s so close to breaking, and you haven’t even actually started yet. You scroll through your phone’s playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of Beyoncé’s ‘Dance For You,’ wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles. 

You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like he’s holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.

You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.

“God, you’re killing me,” he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly parted—oh, it’s so sadistically satisfying. 

You’re gonna make him beg for it. 

Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, “Good,” voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m just getting started.” 

You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but you’re not finished (no pun intended).

“Please, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my face…just—” His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing you’ve got him right on the edge. 

You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.

His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing he’s at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you he’s loving every second of it.

The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire. 

He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still “hold the leash.”

He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you don’t let him seize control. Not yet.

Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you won’t allow him to touch you the way he wants.

“The more you resist, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. It’s a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Perfect,” you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing but not quite giving in. “That’s the idea, baby.” 

You’re serving cunt, and he knows it well.

With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.

You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.

You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue. 

Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. “F-fuuuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me blow in a sec,” he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth. 

Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. “I want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.”

Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.

His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesn’t force you—he doesn’t have to. You’re in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.

Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. He’s a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure you’re generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps. 

The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. “Ahh, yeah, keep going,” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.

He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.

But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign he’s about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.

You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and then—he’s there. 

His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips. 

You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.

“You’re one hungry bitch, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow. 

Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.

“I am hungry for you, baby,” you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.

Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no time—he hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips. 

The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute. 

His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.

“Evan,” you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

“My slut’s ready for me?” he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say you’re a ‘mere’ tease for him is an understatement. 

“You’re doing so good, my baby girl,” he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.

“You’re in night care, baby boy, remember?” you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.

His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm that’s equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesn’t push or pull—he’s letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way he’s looking at you though? Like you’re a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,” he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.

You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. It’s all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. It’s the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two. 

His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Nu-uh,” you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. “Eyes on mine, boy.”

He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. “You feel so damn amazing, baby,” he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.

Panting heavily, you exhale, “I could do this all night.” Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. You’re so soft—sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. “Thaaat’s it, hngh. This pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamic—he’s reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.

“I love fucking you so much,” he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Evan’s grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.

“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.

Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. You’re in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get what’s going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.

“Evan!” You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiver—but not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.

He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You don’t have time to argue—not that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. There’s no remorse in his eyes—just pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. It’s like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed… like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.

He wants to smash, and he’ll get it.

The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.

His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he can’t get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelming—every movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.

Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy. 

“E-Evan, I can’t take it! T-too much!”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Say please, baby,” he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.

“P-please,” a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah” pouring from his lips, he gushes inside you—creamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.

He’s panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.

His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like it’s adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire that’s coursing through your veins. “I wanna feel you.”

That’s it—the words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin—have you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You can’t hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core. 

As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “You’re a menace, you know that?” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But he’s not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.

“You smell like honey… I wanna taste you,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control. 

His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, “Y/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you can’t stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat. 

Your eager pussy can’t help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers in—only to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and again…

That’s all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. “Fuck, fuck,” you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You can’t stay still for the life of you—it’s as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and Evan’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

You’re making a mess out of him, and he’s still eating it up—the dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding. 

“Mmph, Y/N. So beautiful,” he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure. 

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.

Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great. 

You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. “You really know how to leave a girl breathless,” you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.

You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evan’s sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne ad—except sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man… God, this man.

You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couch—the one you always steal when it’s movie night, or when you’re feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka “fuck time”).

“You look like a smurf burrito,” Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.

You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. “Better than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.” You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.

He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. “Sweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.”

“Touché,” you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. “But the jury’s still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.”

“Oh, is that so?” His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.

“Maybe.” You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way he’s looking at you. Damn, those eyes.

“Hmm. Well, maybe I should just—” Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if it’s some kind of armour.

“Okay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.” You’re laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.

Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. “Five stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.”

“Please,” you laugh, “the only thing you’re qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.”

His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? I’m thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like they’re in a pizzeria.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. “So, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?”

“Absolutely! And the best part? I’ll have a pepperoni ring!” He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you can’t help but crack up.

“Oh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. “But really, I want to make sure I don’t just slice into this whole ‘life together’ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now because…” He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of prank”

“Well, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.”

Your heart stops.

“What?” The word barely squeaks out, and you’re pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did he—did he just say proposing?

Evan’s mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee on the sofa. “I mean, I’ve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,” he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. “...and I don’t want to waste another minute from making you my wife!”

Your heart stops.

You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like you’re on the world’s most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did he—did he also just say wife? “Are you serious?”

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, “I’ve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it all—through the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to you—is that I want every single day to be with you.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this.

“From the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. You’re my jackpot. The reason I smile—even when I feel like I’ve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“So here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest.

“You drive me crazy in the best way possible. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“Evan!” you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.

He chuckles heartily, but there’s something so tender in his expression now. “So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“Yes!” you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.

He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fits—how perfectly it all fits.

And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. “So, Smurf burrito, looks like you’re stuck with me for life.”

You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. “Lucky me. Now... about those burgers? I’m still hungry.”

Evan grins, pulling you closer. “First, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?”

“Burgers first, then more disaster sex,” you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.

“Deal,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, you’re the best thing on the menu.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

Announcement

This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, y’all. I’ll admit, I sometimes feel like I’m navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my “writing persona,” if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. I’ve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well… he’s been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx

[court-jobi]

The Bet (Hawks' Version)

((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's works/characters))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 7k //good grief//

Rating: M | 18+ (put down the spicy chicken bucket, baby birds)

Warnings: NSFW, foreplay confessions, DTR, first time, piv smut, porn w feelings, flirting, kissing galore, biting & marking, vocal Hawks is vocal, wrap it up this is fantasy

Summary:

You turn the tables on Hawks' games -the ones he insists are crafted with you alone in mind. You've benefited from his tokens and gestures for long enough, and plan one of your own. You'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it once you're home and 'Keigo' can enjoy it all to himself… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, he makes one thing clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to 'get comfortable' together~

A/N: as promised, part 2 has arrived!! Missed Part 1? Not required, but makes it a bit sweeter, IMO, so catch up if you'd like~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Three months since your shopping excursion, you turned the tables on Hawks and placed a one-sided bet yourself. It was a harmless game, just as his had been from the start. 

You’d watched him pace on the edge of a building by happenstance, noting how he walked the teetery edge like a tightrope against the harsh wind. He's incredibly athletic -that point, you never doubted- but surely he couldn't make it clear across the edge without tripping off to the side… 

His wings would pitch in at any sign of a fall, but you made the sneaky bet that even their offset couldn’t keep him upright the whole way.

…but he did~ graceful and with a little personal stroke of pride as he batted his feathers back onto the roof of the building when he reached the rain gutter at the end. So cute, he even marked himself ‘safe’ like in baseball as he accomplished his goal while waiting for his intern to arrive. 

From the ground below, you couldn't believe how such a man had caught your eye- one as  flashy as he was. Normally you'd have veered far away from big personalities like that… but look at this kid, here. 

He's taking names of bad guys across the country and raking in hundreds of thousands of dollars in promotional money alone (much of it funneling secretly to charities, you came to learn), but here he is entertaining himself: like the child he is at heart. 

… That little show earned Keigo a text. 

From your cell, you sent a far off video snippet of your dashing Pro-Hero traipsing around, with the overlaid caption: 

You win, pretty bird ♥️ Made it across, and didn't tip over once! Still want that dinner?

Just your luck, Hawks pulled out his phone in real time after you sent the message. 

He's swiping, he's shielding it against the glare of the sun to read, and– yup, now he's jumping. And hollering for the whole wide world to hear, if they were only paying attention to the punk on the roof across the street. 

You giggled to yourself, shaking your head. What were you gonna do with him?

That question was easy to answer; you know exactly what you'd be doing and wearing. 

Hawks will be granted his wish after losing that first bet after all, with you completing the perfect night out in that stunning red dress. 

Sake-soaked words, a lovely meal, and a thousand endearing stares later, you two are seated on the way back to your place courtesy one of Hawks’ longtime drivers employed from his agency- where he could unabashedly makeout with you in the backseat. He's come through with enough personal favors with the hero to take him on harmless outings without snitching: movies, the rare sportsball game… dates, you ask him, but Hawks assures you this is the first time fairer company has joined him for a ride.

Mindful as you are, you’re careful not to make too much noise, though Hawks says his valet hates him just as much as yours does. 

‘Some people just don’t see the appeal, and can't handle me~’ he’ll goad, but you still make a pitiful attempt to make him behave in mixed company. 

Hard to do, when you're backed up against the seat of the car with an adoring angel of a man testing the limits of his seatbelt to a ridiculous degree-all for the simple plea to hold you closer: 

How he can't wait another minute. How good you look. How really good you look. 

It doesn’t help the Hero’s impatience when you’ve draped your legs across his lap, exposing the thigh where your dress cuts open. Hawks has a handful of it the entire way home, content to massage and fondle any inch of you he can get. 

After several months of teasing that this thing has been in the back of your closet, you'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, Hawks makes it clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to dress down and get comfortable together~ 

Obviously, Hawks sees no need for wearing night clothes to bed with what you tease in his ear. Though you laugh nervously about that very fact the whole way to your bedroom, to your walk-in closet where he unzips you fully: and to now as you’re slung over his shoulder wrapped up like a cigar in the towels you’d grabbed for your inevitable shower together... 

You wonder what he'd done that for when you just planned to toss them into your ensuite bathroom– only to realize he wanted to unwrap you himself. He’s in full playtime mode, and that makes you hysterical as he whistles along to your bedroom despite your squirming. 

"Keigo!!" you mind your volume a second too late, muting your giggles, "Keigo, what in the hell do you think you're up to?"

"Getting you to bed-- what's it look like I'm doing?" your Pro-Hero rumbles as he drops you gracelessly on the mattress. Off-hours Keigo was fun- and a welcome sight after his long-awaited return from Tokyo. 

No longer the apartment he simply drops you off after nights like this spent out on the town: he spends a few nights a week here. The home where he can snuggle in and shut out the roar of nightlife more than his solo apartment. 

Though till now, you’ve not traipsed this close to the edge of the intimate boundary.

You scramble for the sheet’s edge, still minding your tucked towels as much as you can before Hawks’ impatience gets the best of him.

"It's freezing though; get in if you wanna mess around!" 

Rolling a little eye, Hawks rests back on his heels where he’s perched on the mattress, and  makes a small, swift flare of one wing with a few feathers shooting out, and the flames on your small portable fireplace rekindle themselves with a feather’s arrow-straight press. Your head shoots to the noise and light suddenly casts the warm, flickering glow on his skin and yours.

Bright eyes look up at him, impressed by his little trick,

"Woah! Is that new??" 

"New to you. I try not to show off everything my feathers can do to the fans right away. Gotta leave ‘em wanting more."

You collect your hair above the pillow and flop back alluringly, having forgotten for a moment altogether his glory is on display just a foot away from you laid hidden by a quickly slipping towel around his waist, too.

"Uh-huh, smart move,” you admire Hawks in both the professional and personal sense, “So I've earned that distinct honor, have I?"

"Oh, you? You're gonna get more from me than basic Pro-Hero tricks, lovedove." Hawks kneed off the bed to come around to your open swath of blankets, “You have somethin’ of mine that no one else on this earth has...”

You open the covers dressed only in a waiting smile, having shucked the towel off in your settling in, allowing Hawks to take his time joining you into your makeshift nest. Soon he’s ditched his towel as well, favoring the covers. 

You’ve laid like this before, with him propping an arm above you, and your joint expressions glazed over while soaking in the sight of each other… 

…but like a warning memory flashed before his eyes unseen, Hawks paused; he’s brushing your cheek with utter fondness, yet his smile drops from his face. Like he did before he left town on that mission over a long week ago.

Naturally, you picked up on it. You always did.

"Uh-oh." you coo lightly, "Where'd you go, ‘Number Two’?"

He couldn't say right away, but his brow furrows at being caught. His hand pets firmly along your jaw to ground himself. Careful, reverent, his roughened fingers brush along your face’s comforting fullness, studying you - in no other words- adoringly.

"Nowhere pleasant. Not like here."

"Then come back here." you whisper and lean up to catch a kiss. 

You kiss a few times in quick succession, Hawks sighing into each one heavily; for the first time, feeling at home in who knows how long. 

“I just love it here,” Hawks whispers to you in such close proximity, “Wish I could be here more often. Was hoping this ‘villain boom’ woulda died down by now… work myself out of a job, be able to spend more nights like this…”

Cupping his face and guiding his forehead to yours, you offer a word up to him softly: to will away the furrowed lines hardening his face.

He’s far more serene in private than he is out in the public eye. ‘Hawks’ can act devil-may-care as a comforting, assuring tool in interviews as it boosts his ratings- but you hope for real peace for ‘Keigo’ when he can go home at night.

"Y'know you don't need to be 'big bad Pro-Hero' here. I know I joke all the time, but.. You are Keigo to me, now-- not the famed ‘Hawks’, not the Winged Hero, or some fanciful title the people carry on about in the streets."

Hawks gave pause, sinking into your touch.

"Those names, it’s part of you, yeah- but you know holding your own with a blade in each hand isn't what deems you perfect in my eyes. If I’m honest, your realness does. Your openness does. The care you give me? Everytime I ask, and you answer me? The aches you’ve told me about that no one else hears, because they aren’t the prettiest…” 

Hawks’ gold chain around his catches your attention. Well, his now- but it was originally yours. 

It’s a small token you’d given him after your first accidental late night sleepover together, because he loved how thin and subtle it was, shining on your jewelry tree. Loves shiny things: just like the pretty bird you are, you’d teased him- but it was a darling reaction from him. So you gifted it away, without a second thought.

It’s those moments that you catalog as reasons to fall for this boy again and again- even months after you know you know he’s got you locked in.

“The imperfectness: it’s untouched– and it’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen, when you let me in. When you be yourself.”

His pretty eyes soften, hedging back ever so much in surprise. Crimson feathers plum behind him in interest. 

“It’s heavy, isn’t it,” you look up to the top of his wings unfurling above you, reaching high from the space between his shoulder blades where they stem from; where you hold him tenderly. “I can see that.”

By the look of emotion growing in his eyes, you know you're the only one who sees how heavily life can weigh on him.

“And I know- I know someday,” light tints your voice, trying to offer the same treatment he gives you, “you’ll believe me when I say I will never once slight you for things you choose to share to me- even if they’re out of my depth. Even if you think it's too much for me. You can be anything you want to be with me, tell me anything. This... is what I'll be here for. No sugar-coating. No pity. I’m just here, Keigo."

And if his smitten heart wasn't mush before, it is now. 

Hawks's voice sinks like gravel, "How the hell do you hit the nail on the head, dove…"

"I try- though I do try to save my best lines for you~" you added a hint of playfulness.

He kisses your smug look away, right on the nose.

Hawks’ wings cast a shadow over you as they flare up more when he leans.

"That’s why they pay you the big bucks, isn’t it… You're incredible, lovedove."

"So are you."

With a released hum, Hawks grumbles a little, sinking his head into the pillow beside you, sliding down in the covers to drape a heavy arm over your waist. Some heat has died down from his body -but you feel the tone has shifted past a hot pre-shower makeout to something way more intimate.

Watching him lie here, content on his stomach with his wings at their fullest all the way outstretched, you respect this as a gorgeous, vulnerable state. 

"I don't– wanna sound crass about this..." Hawks mumbles half into his arm.

You look over at the fire over his shoulder. Reining in a snide remark about the definition of the word, 

"Mm, well I am naked in bed with you, having stripped the second you offered to in my closet- into which I fell almost flat on my ass getting in, by the way–the opposite of grace and charm befitting a lady fair as humanly possible. So if you're worried about decorum? You really don't have to hold your tongue with me, Kei."

Hawks laughs with that bright, shallow sound again that shows his full smile.

"Well! Truth it is, then." 

Hawks freed his chest with some honesty. 

"..I've.. I’ve been dreaming about waking up next to you like this since before I made that stupid race bet. It's– kinda what gets me up in the morning."

You balk at the confession. The calendar in your head backtracks that first shopping trip: more than three months ago. He’s spent dozens of nights in your bed since then, and never once made a move like this.

Three months of waiting out a fantasy to become reality- and now he finally has it fulfilled: nestled beneath him in ivory sheets, stripped of the dress that brought you into his arms in the first place, and still hesitates. You couldn’t believe it.

"Are you serious??"

"Yes?”  Hawks answers, almost pained.

"Oh my God!!" you cry out at the ceiling before tucking yourself in your blankets and turning to him fully, "You have the restraint of a eunuch, Kei!"

He swipes a palm down his face.

"Don't get religious on me. Nothing pure about having a hard-on everytime you so much as fix your hair up with a fuckin’ pen. Forget it when you use one of my feathers."

You giggle wildly again. This does little to spare his sheepish embarassent and hides his face with a retracted wing.

"It's not funny, birdie..." the wing speaks.

"No- no, I guess it's not," you try audibly straightening up, running the backs of a few fingers to pet the feathers offered to you. "So– you were saying, about being horny and obsessed with me when you come around? ...Why pump the breaks now, hun?"

"Because-” Hawks’ wings drops ever so much to reveal at least part of his face. “-it's not just 'urges'. I've felt... strongly about you for a while. I know I told you as much back in that dressing room, but that was, like, barely scratching the surface. I've not missed someone like I've missed you." 

His heartstrings shine in his eyes, like Hawks is hoping you'll notice his effort. 

"I've lived long enough and, yeah, maybe flown around the block enough, too.. But it’s made me know what I really want. And for me... It's not just a want. I meant everything I said earlier.”

His shyness leaving him, Hawks finally returns his arm and outstretched wing over you again:

“I wanted to be the one for you. I loved you then,” Hawks tenderly confesses. “I just didn't know how to put it. Had to keep up all those damn appearances and walls up. Lie that I was joking to cover my ass, n’ regretted it ever since."

You soften because you know that fact must be hard for him to admit. 

"And by the time came to come back into town, it’d been so long since I'd seen you, since we last even could talk freely. You’d accomplished so much here and in Mustafu. I… honestly feel kinda shitty that I didn't tell you after so long away… before you were pulled in twenty different directions too, I bet– back when I should have slowed down a damn second to tell you so. I should have, you deserved to know."

"Oh, Keigo..." you loop your arms around his neck loose, brushing his hair back over his ear within reach.

"Sooo, you're not mad?”

"No, I'm not mad."

"Long time I wasn't exactly honest with you,” he presses with apologetic eyes, “I know how you get around all the PDA and stuff.”

You value how much Hawks is trying to be as open with you as he can. You know his limitations and pressures full well that keep him from speaking his mind in the moment as he might like to, and know his affections holding true despite the formalities he’s forced to keep up must have been torture itself.

It shows adorably, on his pouting face, even now. 

"That kind of 'dishonesty' is the only one I can live with, hon’. It was worth it in the end anyway, wasn't it?"

Hawks smiles -finally- and pushes up to kiss you chaste on the mouth before melting into your forehead again, 

"Every time our paths crossed, baby. even for a second- I ached to get my hands on you any way I could.. but after this last mission, the only thing I wanted was to see you safe and sound, here at home. Nothing more. Just safe. So now- even this-  has a bigger weight than ever."

"What do you mean?"

"Being with you, like this..." 

Hawks’ hand sweeps down, rubbing long strokes up and down your side. You turn further into him, encouraging the touch. 

"I want this,” Hawks utters with soft reverence, “I want you.. but sweetheart, it's not just about a bed anymore. Not for me. It's a connection -an important one- and it goes two ways. I don't want you nervous in any way around me. I want you to be sure. All of this is completely up to you- and I can wait. I will wait, if that's what it takes for you to feel ready."

You cringe at how firm yet desperate he sounds. 

See, you’d finally opened up about your hesitations too, about dating heroes in general. It was a funny topic in quirkless circles, as you’d shared with him: widespread assumptions about unfair power dynamics, acclimating to fame by proxy, privacy retention, the like. It made you doubly cautious in your line of work, as you surround yourself with Pro-Heroes on the daily– only to find out one held your heart in a perfectly private place that you were nervous about letting slip and smack you in the face should it go wrong. All irrational fears, truly.

"Dammit, I wish I'd never worded it like that.." you moaned at your past slip. "Keigo, I feel nothing but safe with you. It's--" you flit your gaze around bashfully, "This-- may be something to explore and fumble around a bit with. But it's not because I'm scared, it's because I-- I dunno, I don't want to-..."

He raised a patient brow to you, kind and reassuring.

"... Dissappoint you, I guess?" 

With a funny pout, Hawks waits for you to explain.

"I can dole out all the pretty words on a page I like, but things are different when you're right in front of me. Looking at me like this… like I’ve wanted all this time, too,” 

You cup his cheek, which he totally sinks into the moment your skin makes contact- 

“I get nervous because you're so damn incredible and I want you so fucking bad too… I can't help it either."

Hawks chuckles, relieved in his shoulders as your hungry tone shimmers over your words.

Looking up at him just as tenderly as you touched, you trail a hand along his shoulder, down to his arm. There’s tiny, light freckles there, if you look hard enough.

"Self-conscious is a better way to put it,” you decide, “You've never given me a reason to think you'd hurt me, never... But it's just a fact; you've lived and operated in a different world than I have, Kei. I hope to not be all flustered and blushing through the newness, but I might, still. I know your heart has the best intentions, but I couldn't help imagining you making– comparisons.”

“Comparisons?-”

You swallow your nerves and insecurity rarely voiced to others.

“Just… want to be enough for you. For what you need me to be- if you even wanted that with me."

In favor of fixing his necklace’s clasp, you settled. Inside you knew this wasn't a fair stereotype for heroes, given all he'd shared so intimately about what the life was really like, and he confirmed this suspicion with his displeased reaction.

"You think because I’m out front and center that I should be with someone else.”

You toss the thought away, but answer him in the way you might have months ago, “Maybe?”

“And you think you're lesser because you don't have ‘experience’- because if you're unprepared, you're not of value? That I wouldn’t still want you that way?”

Heat creeps up from your neck, “I- I mean…” 

Hawks further stops your preening of him, and holds your hand instead-

“--And because no one's fucked you right in the past means youre unworthy to have it now?”

You dropped your head back immediately in regret and looked off. "Ok crass, but sure."

"Baby, look at me."

At his word, you level out and meet his gaze again. He cups your face again more gently.

"We're going to make another promise to each other, here and now, okay? Gotta make one thing crystal clear, if nothing else."

You nod to agree.

"One, no more bullshit mind reading. I've had enough of that."

A snort leaves you and he smirks to match.

"I mean it! It won't do either of us any good. If you -or I- need to talk, we talk. You said you were here to support me, and you always have been."

Hawks smooths out his hand to grace your collarbone- meant to soothe. 

"But that means you need to let me be the same for you. I would never, ever judge you either. You are important to me- as an equal. In so many ways. You have my word on that. Deal?"

"Deal." you agree.

"And for two," the kind tone flips to annoyed, "I’ll rid that 'blushing bride' streak out of your head about this amazing body of yours myself... And I'm willing to use any means necessary. I am a Pro-Hero with training and coercion strategies under my belt. With a problem staring me in the face, I’ll fight it until it’s done- and I'm patient."

You quirked your lip while trying to maintain the sensitive conversation.

"Uh-oh. That sounds serious." 

"It will be if you make my job difficult, sweet thing." His eyes jump down to your increasing blush. “Which is why -by the way– it's laughable that you think I'd ever have had time for any chasing tail. Have ya met me? I'd never hear the end of it from my agent!”

That’s funny, but– fair. Another unfair assumption on your part, but Hawks’ easygoing attitude has you bursting into a fit at how easy it is for him to make you laugh.

You really do adore him, and if you can trust him to protect you against a world full of villains, you could give him grace in the love department too.

"Now I'm going to ask you something…”  

Hawks turns to an amorous side of him: where you expected him to land once your head hit the pillow…

“and you're going to answer me honestly…"

"Yes, sir?"

Hawks' top rung of feathers ebb, enough to buffer his telltale control. Seems he’s just as susceptible to a sultry title as you are... 

"See, that shit?” Hawks pipes up, “That's what’s made the last three months a living hell!"

"What, being polite?" you tease your leg to nudge against his from where you’re pinned beneath him. "I thought you liked that I was a nice girl..." 

Lowly, Hawks growls an appreciative moan. He rubs the pads of his fingers along your shoulder all too sensually with just enough pressure to prove his point.

"I do, lovedove. But now, you're my nice girl. Can’t keep you from being yourself… but it's going to be twice as hard not to show everyone who so much as looks at you just how much you're mine."

Behind a demure smile, your heart pounds at this possessive Hawks. Quick instincts targeting prey cross over into the pleasure realm it seems, too.

"My question is..." Hawks leans in shifting lower to nose your hair aside– punctuating his options with a kiss at each stop along your cheek:

"How would you like me to warm you up tonight, lovely? Do you want my hands... my mouth... or something else?"

STARS ABOVE, SOMETHING ELSE YES.

Rather than make the impossible decision, you shudder out a funny quip,

"--Dealer's choice?"

Hawks chuffs against your neck, "That's not an answer, beautiful..."

But how can you answer when he’s so close and siphoning all thoughts from you? All you can do is keen at the sensations on your neck and curl up into him with leisurely hands around his back scratching enticing circles. Kissing gentle suckles at your neck- plus a bite here and there- Hawks sweeps back your waves before he whispers low again,

"Tell me how far you wanna go with this. Can you do that for me?"

"Mhm.." you hum wordlessly. Hawks’ hand presses to the space above your breast.

"Heart's racing again. Does this feel ok?"

You hum back, drawn out and comfortable.

"How ‘bout this?" He dips and now cups a breast in a hand and massages carefully while peppering your neck and chest with the same hot kisses.

A longer moan still.

"There you go. Keep talking to me. Tell me what feels good; you can do it."

There’s nothing you want more than him– nothing in the world.

"You have me. You have all of me," Hawks’ hips curl into the bed in a grind below you getting high off the accidental confessions you let loose.

"I want..." you swallow for control, "... To-- kiss- hah."

His eyes flicker to your face from his perch atop you, seeing you blissed out, lolled to the side: smirking at his success already.

"Yeah?" Hawks drifted a little lower, cooing up at you between wet open-mouthed presses. "Where do you want me to kiss you?"

"No, I-" your voice pitched up higher and he stops, smoothing out his strokes and eyes you as you rouse enough to face him.

From his hand's touch, he surely feels your pulse throb and hangs on your words just as he did before, but you want to take the pressure off of him. 

Just for a little while. He deserves it. He won the bet, after all.

"I wanna kiss you."

Hawks bridges over you to meet your eager arms to pull you in for a hungry kiss. Together, you get an addictive taste of each other over and over, meeting each one with equal passion and excited fervor.

In between heavy breaths, you push your racing heart forward towards his next dousing of affection. 

" I wanna.."

"Wanna what?" Hawks slurs like he’s drunk. Enamored, but rutting into the bed again impatiently.

"Wanna kiss you-- fuckin' everywhere." you sigh, zeroed in on his throat’s bobbing- adorned with your gift of gold there.

Pleased at your growing excitement, he chimes back, "Be my guest~" 

Hawks scoops you up and flips you so you are positioned laying on top. Pleased at the shift, you smile charming as ever and sit up to adjust, putting yourself on full display for him. It’s proof that it was never the dress specifically that made you appealing to him: but the model underneath.

His hands rove over your thighs and hips, getting a good look at you in the firelight, but settle on your angelic face in the end, as usual.

"I kinda like you up there~!"

"Kinda like it, too,” you wriggle yourself with a refreshing rake to your hair's part. 

With Hawks's hands on you, you felt truly as powerful and enticing as he made you out to be-- if his gaze wasn't indicative enough.

"Wish you could see yourself right now… You're damn gorgeous."

"And all yours-" you lean down in perfect confidence, settling on his chest and brushing his hair out of your way as well. "May I?"

"Please." He tease a brow for a 'go ahead'.

Oh was he in for it. 

The moment you latch on, you suck and mark at his neck like a pro, pulling a groan from his sweet spot already. How the hell did you find it so fast? You're just that good.

You caress his chest with the hand not crucial for balance, fingers beginning to memorize every soft-lipped jump in the skin where a faint scar splits it. It’s the tender attention he deserves that you know from his offhand comments that he does not and has not received in the years spent under the Commissions’ eye. 

Taking your time and attention, you lavish on worshipful kisses across the column of Hawks’ throat and have to flip your hair again when you switch sides. Hawks seems to enjoy its drape like a curtain across his field of vision in the few moments where his eyes flutter open. It's a reverse of what his wings do for you; he's enamored by the sight. 

"Ohhhh, that's perfect. Oh, you're so perfect- fuck, you're good at thi--S-MMMMM."

Hawks cut off his trill when you sucked another equally tender spot and hum along with him. Lost in the moment yourself, you roll your hips to meet him; how he trembles under you and against the cock twitching to life- hot against your bare skin. 

You’re just about to move away from a high point of his neck, when his hand comes up to fist in your hair and hold you in place–

"Harder."

"Hm-what?"

"Bite me--Harder, baby, please."

At the hoarse request, your eyes flash wide open… but who the hell are you to refuse?

So you give him a little nonsensical melody, sung just soft like so along your kisses’ trail, then tease his throat with your teeth before nipping him gentle enough in play. But it’s enough of a shock to make him groan–

"FFFFuck, YES."

You chuckle low, followed by a little hushing finger on his lips.

"Keigo, baby… You don't want my neighbors and half the joint to give my shit about the Winged Hero’s volume, do you?"

"I don't fucking care." Hawks rasps, "Let em hear what you're doin’ to me- let ‘em hear what they can't fuckin’ have."

His lovesickness makes you proud in the most selfish way, and reward him by blowing on the hot skin rising and falling with breath as you kiss along each pec next, lightly singing bits and pieces of no song in particular. For as much as this boy has made your heart sing just by looking your way, you try to give him a piece of that back. Just wordlessly praising him along every scar and response to the sounds he’d make; in want, plead, hunger for more.

Slow torture.

Shockingly- and much sooner than you expected from his control so far- Hawks had enough.

His eyes flash open in molten gold.  He’s capturing you with strength you’ve so far only witnessed on tv and is pulling you into his lap in full force. Sitting with legs astride him, you gasp at the heat of him again- even more at how desperately your source of need literally weeps for him. 

Blindly Hawks reaches for himself and prods you with some gently-paced rocks up and down, kissing you back and with renewed vigor as your breaths got faster.

"Ready for this?"

You nod and cast every ounce of trust to him with a grounding breath, taken with his eyes for about the millionth time tonight– strong jaw and blonde whisps crafting his face.

"Y’gonna hold on, pretty girl?" Hawks scoops under your shoulder blades, a more mischievous smile gracing his kissed-bruised countenance.

"I got you," you echo. "Your turn to tell me just what you want, huh?"

"Got all I want right here."

And you believe that softness from him: private and earnest and shared as gently as a secret.

It brings a barely audible word of love from the pit of you. Hawks breathes it back into your waiting lips before sealing his mouth to yours. 

Then, gloriously slow, he pushes up and moans sinfully into your mouth, low and slow. You made the sweetest sounds in complete rapture once he settles in -full in the best way- slick and deliciously joined.

Hawks curses against your chest, breathing heavily. 

"Mmmmm tell me when–I can move... Y’you say when-”

"Ohmygod yes,move…" 

No more teasing needed. 

Hawks hoists you up and forward suddenly, now bent on his heels. One arm is wound tight around your waist, and the other clutches you to his chest by your warm nape. You release the breath and pull tight onto his shoulders, moaning loud for you. Then, Hawks just went to town: fucking up into you, deep, steady, and hard.

"Oh ssshit, babe, you're so good~~" you praise light and high in your voice, rocking your hips in time, in awe without even the slightest shock of his strength. 

Pressing down against him nudges your own sweet spot every time– a point not lost on your dear Keigo.

You rock with him eagerly, but quickly reach the point of lightheadedness he had when you’d kissed all along his chest… the same shocking sensations flutter through you when he starts to make love to each breast lavishly. All those sensations of hard nips and soft  tracing were quickly building up and up and up.

“Fuck,Keigo– I, ah… AAH!--”

“That’s it, lovedove– say my name. Say my name- I’m gonna have you cummin’ for me, love.”

Kissing praises into his neck, you become entranced by the sounds of your pats of joining, the grunts of Hawks fighting against his moans in between, the reactive bats of those fierce wings and his strong hand petting through your hair. By its steady grip, you can tell he’s possessively keeping you close while he ruts into you. In no time, it was his turn to babble nonsense while deeply buried in you.

"Sweet baby... Fuck, that feels so good-- ughhhh do thatagain, squeezin’ me... Fuck, you could kiss me anywhere n’ I wouldn’t care... Ahhh just wanna feelyou..."

Your insides swell and sigh at his happy cries... and you can’t bear to refuse him. 

So you choose something small~ to test how much your touch truly affects him. You opt for a small, breathy peck at the corner of his eye, where his lashline is fanned out in a darling beauty mark on him by nature’s design. It works: whether it’s a teasing kiss on the neck or a peck on the tenderest skin on his face, you’re making him drive extra punches in his thrusts.

His name is your steady prayer in this treasured, rare time with him,

“You waited a'long time for this haven't you, pretty bird... Missing me so much, loving me from afar, and I didn't even know it yet…"

Hawks chuckles a savory growl, "Missed me too, didya. You missed me? This what you wanted? Feels good, huh?"

"Hell, I couldn't even have imagined it would feel this good, -near- this good-- gods, you're so strong.. and safe- fuck, I'm so safe, and all yours. All yours."

Hawks' pants pick up, almost feral again-- 

"Say that again."

“I’m– yours?”

“Again.”

Pushing back on his shoulders, you find balance framing his face and pushing his hair back to study his glazed over eyes-- the ones staring right through you with his love’s fire consuming him from the inside out.

Purely on instinct, you tug Hawks’ hair back to whisper against the sensitive skin under his ear,

"I'm yours, Keigo Takami."

Sealing your declaration with a hot mix of tongues, Hawks brokenly cries out, squeezing you tight and pushing you down so hard you felt the stars shoot through you in a blazing hot wake. The burning heat makes you gasp at the fullness now warming you through. Too quick to even ask where you’d have preferred he cum in you, you wouldn’t have honestly had it any other way,

…telling him you were his is what did him in, and you take a special stroke of pride knowing your claim on his heart.

After his strangled grunts give way to deeper breaths, Hawks collapses to the side, sending you in a barrel roll along with him extending his legs under you- still submerged in you. His fingers trail along your back leisurely while he catches his breath, which made for such a comforting cool down. 

Breathing normally and opening your eyes again, you notice the fire was still alive in your fireplace unit, but barely- as if the heat you were generating was snuffing out the actual flames.  In reality, the timer was just going out.

"Oh wow~" you sigh, "Look at that."

"Yeah- wow~" Hawks sighs.

Your lashes tickle from your pillow -his chest- and remind him, "I was looking at the hearth, sweet boy." 

Beyond the heartbeat making music under your ear, you hear only a small rustle above you, then watch a singular feather make another bullseye, and the light roars back to fullness.

"oOo…” It’s shameless how ditzy you feel, watching him not miss a beat, even in his afterglow.

Hawks chuckles, back to stroking you.

"So.. ‘terms fulfilled’, love?"

"Mhmmm. To the letter-" you tease and slowly manage to rise up enough to cross your arms across his chest as a pillow for yourself so you could look at him. Naturally, a smile settles onto your face at the sight, "How bout you; winnings ‘sufficiently provided’?"

Hawks pillows an arm under his head and caresses your face with the other.

"This winner didn't last near as long as he intended to… with all your ‘fulfillment’, little minx." 

"I think it was worth it. I got you really worked up- which I imagine, is a hard feat given your occupation,” you fall into his touch. “I'm pretty proud."

Hawks praises you with a sexy little smile, "You should be~"

With his sparkling eyes drooping shut for a moment, you press a little kiss above Hawks' prominent winged eye once again. Upon opening, you found him lazily watching you with a content smile.

"What's that look for?" you ask.

"Just kicking myself,” Hawks holds no sweet-talking twang in his voice now, “Why didn't I cut my rascal act sooner?"

You dismiss his fear in a little roll of your eyes. 

"Don't do that. It was meant to be like this. Like you said- no need to rush." Another small kiss is granted on his cheek.

"C'mere," Hawks coaxes you up and gifts you a soothing kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Your brain still needed catching up, because your muscles seem very slow to move. Shifting off of him,  you felt your 'activities' leak its mess down your legs and you shut them immediately, flopping back embarrassed. Hawks chuckles warmly, grabbing one of those abandoned towels and taps your knee to open.  The prodding renders you more openly shy now, but Hawks only gave a sweet, consoling brow back.

"C'mon, why so shy? Open up." He prompts your knees to open, and wipes you down with a caring touch. 

Even with his task set on purely cleaning your skin, you lay back and stretch your arms just watching him work. Slowing his movements, Hawks meets you eyes again when he makes an unintended jolt along your clit, giving you an appreciative once over, shaking his head with gentle eyes.

“And don’t you think I forgot about you, baby~” he whispers like the rascal he claims to have put behind him: “We’ve got quite the night ahead of us. Can’t be overwhelming you too much too soon.”

You giggle, pulling him down to hide in his shoulder again. Pleased enough at his sense of peace as he breathes, you melt more at the reminder:

"You're gorgeous, you know. Fancy dress or not."

A closed-lipped smile is all you can manage in your exertion. 

"Wish I could see it through your eyes. All I see hangin’ over there is a sure fire way to get me laid."

Hawks’ laugh is near delirious- carefree. 

"I’ll make you see. Just give me a little time. I'm patient." 

Hawks offers you a hand and helps you to your feet- only to catch your unsteady legs, leaving you chuckling into his chest, nuzzling playfully when his wings come around to keep you warm in the meantime.

"Sorry ‘bout that…" you gain better footing.

"What, that I fucked you too good?"

"Keigo."

"Crass, sorry,” Hawks pouts.

"You are not that sorry."

And he agrees, full cheek returned, "Nah." 

When he passes your still partially open closet where you’d tossed the dress back to hang up for dry cleaning, Hawks stops your walk altogether in favor of holding you from behind– just like he did in the dressing room.

“And you know that’s not the only thing to get me to take you to bed, lovedove,” he makes the promise by your mess of hair, “Try on anything else in there for me– and all you need to do is ask.”

[mj0702]

For this anon... I try to get a follow up with the camp... any favored players? 😊♥️

“Fuck Lucy...” Keira moaned when Lucy lightly bit her neck

“Mhm” the older player murmured against her lovers skin smirking

“Fuck I...” the blonde groaned and scratched Lucys back “... this long distance is killing meeee... JESUS”

“I'll make up for it, Ging... all night long” Lucy mumbled softly as she kissed her way further down on her girlfriends naked body

The first time in six weeks they had the evening to themselves. No games this weekend so Lucy decided to book the next flight from Lyon back to Manchester to spend the weekend with her girlfriend. She surprised Keira with a bouquet of flowers and a cheesy “I love you” - Teddy Bear from the airport smiling happily when the blonde opened the door in her Pjs barefoot her hair a little touloused like she just woke up from a nap on the couch

“Luce?” Keira whispered like she couldn't believe her girlfriend was really standing in front of her

“Hey Love” the brown haired woman smiled softly “... thought I pop around for the weekend – hope you didn't text your affair”

“But you...” the blonde looked at her girlfriend still confused “.. you have a game”

“No... I said I need a break” Lucy smiled “... may I.... come in?”

“Yes of course” Keira said quickly stepping aside “... it's your house... Lucy!” she squealed as Lucy picked her smaller frame up laying Keira over her shoulder

“My house, my rules” the dark haired said smugly as she walked through the hallway towards the living room

“Also my house” the blonde laughed hanging over her girlfriends shoulder “... shoes off”

Lucy quickly flipped her shoes off sending them flying down the hallway before she entered the living room deposing a laughing Keira on the couch

“No welcome home kiss?” Lucy grinned while she already leaned down

“Didn't get any chance now did I?” the blonde whispered as she pulled Lucy down by the hem of her shirt connecting their lips in a soft, loving kiss

“Fuck I really missed you” Lucy murmured against her girlfriends neck hovering above her their clothes scatter around the house “I love you Kei”

“Love you too..” the blonde panted out her hips acting on their own as she tried to get Lucy to finally give her what she so desperately needs “... but for the love of god”

“Getting there Love” the older one murmured kissing her lovers breast “Let me enjoy this”

“Get there faster” Keira whined spreading her a little apart hinting her girlfriend how much she needs that sweet release and touch

“A minute...” Lucy mumbled licking over Keiras hardened nipple

“Scoot over...” you mumbled sleepy already crawling on Keiras bed

“JESUS!!” your sister exclaimed shocked holding down the blanket that's covering Keira and herself “Bubs... what are you...”

“Ssshh Lucy... tired” you mumbled face planting into the pillow next to the two already dead asleep again

“What the....” Lucy whisper yelled looking between you and her girlfriend back and forth

“She has problems sleeping since you left...” Keira said “... she comes over three, four times a week now...”

“I so looked forward to us having some... alone time” your sister grumbled as she moved off her naked girlfriend

“I didn't know she would be here tonight” the blonde said apologetic and pressed herself against her girlfriends side

“Why didn't you tell me?” Lucy asked her voice lowly pulling Keira closer into her side “That she has nightmares again”

“She didn't want me to say something to you... and they're not nightmares per se... she misses you Luce...” Keira mumbled as she pressed her nose into Lucys necks

“I miss you too... both of you” your sister sighed holding her girlfriend tightly

“Can you two shut up already... I'm trying sleepy here” you mumbled but Lucy immediately heard you were basically dead to the world

“Sorry your Highness...” your sister chuckled pulling you into her other side her naked body still covered by the light blanket while you laid on top of it

“You are forgiven” you mumbled into the pillow which made Lucy and Keira laugh quietly

[kwanisms]

Kinkuary 20 Jeongin — cnc/dubcon // table/counter sex

➥ dom!Jeongin × sub!Reader

summary: Y/N’s biggest fantasy has always been to be forcefully taken advantage of, something she never shared until she started dating Jeongin who seems more than willing to help bring her fantasy to life.

wc: 2.5k

warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): fingering, rough unprotected sex (use protection!), Jeongin pins the reader down and forces himself on her (it's consensual! It's part of the con noncon thing!), reader asks him to stop and says no but it's part of her fantasy, sex on a table (they make a mess of their dining room lol oops), dirty talk and degrading names, Jeongin comes off as a little mean but it's all part of the fantasy. I think I got them all but let me know if I missed any!

a/n: TW: THEMES OF CONSENSUAL NON CONSENSUAL SEX. ALSO CALLED CON NONCON OR CONSENSUAL R@PE. THE READER HAS AGREED TO THIS PREVIOUSLY. If this topic bothers you, DO NOT READ!!! When she says no and asks him to stop, it's part of her fantasy and Jeongin makes sure to check in and give Y/N the opportunity to use their safe word to make sure she's still good to go. Consent is sexy and the most important thing between partners. Thank you for reading this installment of Kinkuary! If you like it, pls reblog as it helps with getting more people to see my work and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon

Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan

Stray Kids taglist: @niktwazny303 @g4megirl @rapmonie2047 @indigo35 @witherednotes @cixrosie @fay-ebrahim

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

Join the taglist!

════════════════════════════════

You pushed at Jeongin’s chest, trying to push him off you but it was no use, not when your boyfriend was definitely stronger than you and for good reason. He’d spent most of his free time in the gym with Chris and Changbin.

And it was beginning to show how easily he overpowered you.

“Stop fighting me, Y/N,” Jeongin purred, caging your ur body between his arms and pressing you against the wall. “No,” you whimpered, gripping the front of his sweatshirt. “Let me go!”

When you first explained you fantasy to you boyfriend, he took the time to sit you down and have you walk him through every aspect. He was intrigued by the idea of consensual non consensual sex and even more impressed that you trusted him enough.

By no means, did Jeongin ever fantasize about taking advantage of you but when you assured him it was something you fantasized about a lot, he was willing to give it a try and came to find that he absolutely loved it.

He loved the control and power it gave him to over power you, but more than anything, he loved how you trusted and loved him enough to let him into this secret world of yours.

He’d fulfilled this fantasy of yours more than once and somehow he managed to keep it new and exciting each time.

You’d sent a text to Jeongin, one of your usual to communicate that you wanted him to come home and take advantage of you.

You: you wanna play with me tonight?

Innie🦊: tonight? You sure?

You: yes. Today was so stressful at work. Pls Innie?

Innie🦊: of course baby. Whatever you want 💕 what do you wanna play?

You: thank you Innie 🥰 how about obsessed stalker?

Innie🦊: i think I’m a little out of practice with that one. How about jealous estranged boyfriend comes home after a fight? I think i can pull that off on short notice 😉

You: perfect ♥️

Innie🦊: safe word?

You: cherries 🍒

You’d gone about your day like normal, making dinner, cleaning up the apartment, and putting away clean laundry. You were finishing filling the dishwasher when the doorbell rang.

You curiously walked over and peered through the peephole to see Jeongin standing outside the door. You sent him a quick text.

You: what do you want?

Innie🦊: let me in.

You: no. You left for a reason, Jeongin

Innie🦊: please baby. Let’s talk this out.

You: I don’t have the energy to argue anymore, Jeongin.

Innie🦊: no arguing. No fighting. I promise.

You forced the smile off your face before unlocking the door and pulling it open, but only as far as the chain lock would allow.

Jeongin turned to look through the gap.

“Baby,” he said, smiling at you.

He noticed the chain. “What’s with the chain?” He asked, smile almost falling instantly. You shook your head. “You wanted to talk?” You asked, noticing the way the smile on his face fell completely.

“Let me in, please, Y/N. I don’t want to talk this out through the door.”

You hesitated, eyeing him as he stood on the other side of the door, looking equal parts sad and pathetic. You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Fine! But you’ve got five minutes,” you said as you closed the door, undoing the chain and letting it open, allowing Jeongin inside. Once he was inside, he shut the door, locking it and advanced on you, taking your face in his hands. “I missed you so much,” he said softly, pulling you into a kiss which you tried to shy away from.

You weren’t going to let him get it that easily.

“You wanted to talk,” you said, trying to keep your voice even but the excitement of what Jeongin was about to do was evident.

You moved to the kitchen island and waited for Jeongin to make his move.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Jeongin said, taking your hand in his, caressing the back of it absentmindedly. “I was such a jerk the last time we spoke. I said some things I knew would hurt you and I never should have said them,” he said softly.

The look on his face was genuine and for a split second you forgot he was acting, as were you. He’d just gotten so good at it.

“What’s said is done, Jeongin,” you replied, pulling your hand from his. “Let’s just forget it and move on,” you added.

“Of course. I’d like nothing more than to move on with you,” Jeongin replied, getting to his feet as you moved to put space between you.

“Jeongin,” you warned. “When I said move on, I meant move on alone,” you continued. “We need to end things. This isn’t good for either of us.”

Jeongin’s expression shifted from confusion to anger. “Are you breaking up with me?” He demanded, sounding every bit outraged as he would, were this real.

You nodded slowly. “It’s for the best,” you said softly, moving out of his grasp and towards the door, hoping to urge him out into the hall. “Baby, please don’t do this,” Jeongin pleaded. “Give me another chance,” he added.

“I’m sorry, Jeongin. I just can’t,” you said, reaching for the doorknob. You felt his hand close around your wrist. “Is there someone else?” He demanded. You shook your head, trying to pull from his grip. “No! There isn’t someone else!”

His eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying you weren’t all buddy-buddy with Seungmin the other day?” He growled, eyes flashing darkly. For a moment you thought he was being serious. That he actually thought you were messing around with one of his friends. You pulled from his grip, turning to grab the doorknob.

“You need to leave.” You twisted the handle, pulling the door open only for Jeongin to force it shut. This was exactly what you were hoping for.

-last warning. con noncon from this point on-

“Did you really think it would be that easy to get rid of me?” He asked in a much lower and darker tone. You looked up at him, eyes wide. In all the times you’d acted out this fantasy, his voice had never once sounded like that.

It sent a chill up your spine as he grabbed your wrist and turned you, pushing your back against the wall and pressing himself against you, keeping you pinned to the wall. “What’re you—” you started but stopped when he captured your lips in a searing kiss. You melted for a moment before remembering the act.

“Get off me,” you hissed, pushing him off you only for him to cage you against the wall, leaning in to whisper four words that would be your undoing.

“Stop fighting me Y/N.”

The next few steps happened so quickly it took your brain a moment to catch up. Jeongin grabbed your wrists, pinning them against the wall on either side of your head, leaning in to brush his lips against yours as you whimpered out a no.

“I know you want this,” he purred, a devilish grin on his face because he was right. You did want this. You did ask for this. It was the delivery of his words that had your heart racing. “Let me go,” you whined, struggling against his grip.

Jeongin let out a chuckle. “It’s so cute how you fight back, knowing you could never escape me,” he retorted, his tone low. “I promise you’ll love it,” he added and before you had a chance to respond, he’d grabbed you by your hair, guiding you over to your dining room table.

“What are you doing?” You cried as he knocked everything off the table, turning you to face away before bending you over the wooden surface, keeping you pinned against it with one hand and undoing his pants with the other.

“Stop!” You cried out, struggling against him as he grabbed your shorts and panties and pulled them down your thighs with one hand. “Jeongin!” You whimpered as he kept you pinned down, one hand disappearing between your thighs to find your center already soaked.

“Fuck,” he groaned, fingers finding your clit and teasing it briefly before moving up to your slit. “I knew you’d enjoy this,” he continued, pushing two fingers into your cunt. “So wet already for me.” You shook your head, eyes burning with tears.

“S-stop,” you whimpered, walls clenching around his fingers. “But you’re responding so well,” he chuckled. “Squeezing around my fingers like you want more,” he added, pulling his fingers from your pussy and rubbing the tip of his now freed cock against you.

“Jeongin please,” you sobbed. “Stop!” ‘Don’t stop!’

He sighed, leaning forward, resting his forearm across your back and ducked his head closer to your ear. “Do you really want me to stop? You know what to say,” he whispered, the teasing tone absent from his voice. He was giving you a chance to use your safe word but this is what you wanted.

You shook your head quickly, letting him know you weren’t calling it quits.

“Then shut up and stop crying,” he said, the darker tone back in his voice.

“Just stay there and take it.”

You let out a moan, hands balling into fists as he pushed the tip of his cock into your cunt, your walls pulling him in as he bottomed out, a groan leaving his lips as he stilled, buried balls deep inside you.

“Fuuuuck me,” he growled, his momentary lapse in focus allowing you to try and push yourself up. He was quick to regain control, pushing you back down, grabbing both your wrists and pulling them behind your back to hold with one hand. “I told you to stay there,” he ordered.

“You think I’m gonna listen to you?” You hissed, struggling against his hold. You felt his fingers dig into your hair. “I already told you once,” he grunted, giving you a sharp thrust. “Stop.” thrust “Fucking.” thrust “Fighting me!” thrust.

You cried out with each sharp hit of his hips against your ass. “Jeongin please stop!” You sobbed again, tears burning the corners of your eyes and blurring your vision. “Stop bitching,” he growled, his grip on your wrist tightening.

“Just lay there and take it like a good girl,” he scoffed. “I know I’m not the only one you’ve been fucking,” he added. “W-what?” You asked incredulously, trying to focus on the dialogue. “You’ve been fucking my friends behind my back, haven’t you?”

You shook your head. “No I haven’t!” Jeongin ignored your protests.

“You think just because I left the apartment the other day that you can go off and fuck anyone?” He asked, the force of his thrusts causing the table to scrape against the floor. “N-no!” You cried out. “I haven’t been fucking anyone!”

Jeongin scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh,” he growled. “I’m not an idiot, Y/N.” He let out a chuckle. “It doesn’t matter how many guys you fuck after me. You’re mine,” he added. “You. Are. Mine.”

Your walls clenched around his cock at his words as if agreeing and solidifying his claim over you.

“This pussy is mine,” he continued, giving a few measured, sharp thrusts before resuming the same relentless pace from before. “That pretty mouth is mine,” he added, releasing your wrists and leaning over your back, pinning you to the table as his hips continued their assault.

His hand came up around your mouth, cutting off your protests and your screams as he pounded into you. “That’s it, baby,” he said softly. “Scream for me. No one can hear you.” Your walls tightened around him, your thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed over you quickly.

“Oh that was fast,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’m not done yet.”

You tried to pry his hand off your mouth but he was too strong for you. His free arm wrapped around your chest. “If you don’t want me to tie your hands, stop fighting me and just take it,” he groaned, hips moving erratically, thrusts growing sloppy as he chased his own high.

You moaned, the sound muffled by his hand as his own orgasm washed over him, his hips stuttering to a halt as he buried his cock deep inside you as he came, emptying his load into your cunt. “Fuck!” He swore loudly, giving you a couple more thrusts before letting go of you and pushing himself up.

You fell limp against the table, panting heavily. “Y/N?” Jeongin said, his voice back to normal. “You alright baby?” He asked. You nodded feebly.

“Was I too rough?” He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses against your cheek. You shook your head. “No,” you said hoarsely. “It was perfect.”

Jeongin pressed a couple kisses to your head before finally pulling out of you, wincing from sensitivity as you whined at the loss of his cock inside you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmured, pulling your shorts and underwear back up. “I’ll pick up later,” he added as he helped you stand up straight, your legs shaking as he supported your weight.

“Do you need me to carry you?” He asked, all semblance of the act from before gone. He was just your loving, sweet, and caring boyfriend again. You shook your head but let out a little yelp when he scooped you up anyway.

“Jeongin!” You whined in embarrassment as he carried you through your apartment towards the bathroom. He silenced you with a kiss before setting you on your feet and guiding you to sit on the closed toilet lid.

“Shower first, then bed,” he said as he turned to start the water. “Bed?” You asked, looking up at him. “It’s only—” you tried to protest but he silenced you yet again with another kiss, this time longer than the last.

“Yes. Bed. I want you to rest. Then we’ll have dinner and then makeup sex,” he added. “But—” he pressed a finger to your lips. “No buts,” he answered.

“I’m gonna cuddle you, feed you, and spend the rest of the night making it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for! Jeongin, I asked for that. I wanted it!”

He shook his head as he tested the water. “You didn’t ask for that part with Minnie. I’m sorry about that,” he replied. “I don’t think you’d ever sleep with my friends by the way.” You nodded. “I know Innie,” you said as he knelt before you.

“It was just part of the act. I know that,” you said, caressing his cheek. He took your hand in his, placing a kiss to the back of it and caressing your skin with his thumb. “I love you,” he said softly, looking up at you.

You smiled at his admission. “I know that, too,” he playfully smacked the back of your hand. “Yah! Say it back!” You rolled your eyes, sliding from your seat and onto his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck before your lips descended onto his.

“I love you too, you dork.”

[darkbluekies]

edmund always makes a big deal about the fact people should care about him simply because he’s royalty. sometimes i think that he thinks without his silly titles he’d be nothing. would there be anyway to let edmund know that his most important title is not ‘my king’, but in reality ‘my precious most darling husband’??? or would it simply never quite get through his thick skull :/ (great writing by the way, sorry for spamming your notifications recently♥️)

(This got longer than I intended!! I kind of want to make an oneshot out of this now because vulnerable edmund>>>>)

this made me so sad, i haven't thought about that, but it makes so much sense

I went through some of my texts and found evidence that he uses his title to his advantage

So I think that he ABSOLUTELY would be lost without his titles. He is most likely very insecure because of the loss of a real parent figure, so this is the only thing he can rely and back up on.

I think that it would be very hard to convince him that he is more than his titles because that is what he has been fed since he was a kid: he is the future king, he is the one to rule the kingdom, he is special, he is chose, he is everything ... and so forth. Of course he believes it because he is that role. He is KING Edmund. Without the 'king' part, who is he then? He doesn't know who 'Edmund' is. That person disappeared completely when his parents died and he became the king.

Thankfully, your presence allows him to dip back into the 19 year old guy he actually is, and find who Edmund is. He can be silly, funny and do teenage shit without a care in the world.

If you'd tell him that his titles don't matter and that you see him as your darling husband, he would probably cry. He never cries since he doesn't think a king should show weaknesses, but I think that he would break down in tears, because I do think that he feels that everyone likes him because he's the king, not because of him. Just knowing that the one he loves the most isn't like everyone else would lift a heavy weight from his heart. He has been lonely and isolated since childhood, so knowing that he isn't alone anymore would make him happy.

Just be careful though, because the second you tell him this, he will never let you go. If there was a slight possibility of getting away from him earlier, there's impossible now ... because why would he let the only person that actually likes him slip away? His possessivness, jealousy and clinginess would become much, much worse, more people would die because of that, but he would be much, much happier<3

[the-afterparty-au]

[✨*ABOUT✨]

The Afterparty AU is briefly summarized as taking place in a party within the void, lasting forever after a genocide route that was never undone. After many months of nothing but wind, our first fallen human realized the world was not going to be reverted by the player, and they stayed true to their word of Erasure. Chara however, simply getting bored decides to play a game framed as a experiment & brings back all the monsters you failed to befriend in a Genocide route back for a encore. Allowing everyone to reside in the void, a space between files & between deltarune and UNDERTALE. The amount of monsters that are happy about this is uncertain, but all of them are certainly questioning literally everything that brought them here.  (Lightly Inspired by these fanworks so, Thanks to @garbagechocolate, @djsmell & @jazze-bee for accidentally inspiring me to make a whole AU)

By; Modphys (They/them) (Main Blog & Art Blog: @kates-cave & @ryzies-ralley)  Modtaton (He/they) (Main Blog + Art Blog: @spiltmilk34 & @spoiledcheese34 | Instagram ) Papymod (She/they/he) (Main Blog + Art Blog: @theartistthatcantraw & @fail3dexp3rim3nt) Also thanking this for the text boxes haha

[*TAGS]

#ModAlphys🍍 #ModMTT🦝 #ModPapy💀 - Content from specific Mods

#OutOfVoid - General out of character posts/Asks/Announcements Etc.

#PostsFortheVoid Reblogs of any Fanart or random posts I/we might reblog

#PostsOfTheVoid Extra Content asks lore etc. not relevant to the actual plot Or announcements

#TheAfterPartyAU In universe & Main Story posts

#AskAfterparty is any asks in character

#ModsQ&A, Any Asks directly for the mods + #ModsArt is any Art Directly from the mods (not counting story)

[📋*RULES 📋]

[*Current AU Status: Active]

- No SERIOUS NSFW media. Swearing and certain (Chara Frisk & Flowey are all children) jokes are allowed but actual sexually explicit content & HARD GORE is prohibited. Plus the mods are minors 

- Harassment towards me, Or anyone of Any group, will not be tolerated

- Repeat asks will probably be ignored, sorry.

- Please Be patient, This blog does not have a schedule & updates come out when they’re ready (aim for at least 2 weeks) 

- No Magic!Anon please, While this story is a bit aimless it’s still there, plus Keep Roleplaying limited maybe. Makes my life easier.

- Technically not a hard rule but If you’re asking & have an ask blog I recommend you add your @, Love seeing other AU/Blog’s Out there in the wild!! Doesn't matter the fandom either :D 

- Probably will close the ask box if it gets too full, might cap it at 20 0r 25.

* Have funnnnn. =)

[*⚠️ *WARNINGS ⚠️]

This AU is estimated to be 15+  

While I don't plan to include shipping, it might sneak its way in here, who knows.

Swearing in Asks Is allowed plus the mod swears. (Steer clear of slurs, even if you can reclaim them.)

Scarring, Blood, Death, themes of unreality trauma & gore is around, Everyone was brought back from the dead. Additional CW for mentions Genocide considering this au is after one. 

potential mentions (& possible depictions) of suicide & Self harm, Fratricide, Mind Control (Possible Manipulation), & Divorce.

While this aims to be (kind of) joke au, General CW for potential disturbing content is out there. 

Feel Free the DM With any warnings I missed & should include

[*ACT - ASK] - ASK BOX STATUS [OPEN]

*Chara - 💔 *Frisk - ♥️ *Toriel - 🔥 *Papyrus - 💀 *Mad Mewsy - 💢 *The Undying - 🦈 *Muffet - 🕷️ *Mettaton NEO -  👾 *Sans - 🦴 *Asgore - 🔱 *Flowey 🌻

 DNI LIST

Homophobes, Terfs, LGBTQIA+Phobic, Racists, Xenophobes, Pro shippers, Anti-Anti's, Misogynists', Cancel Culture & Cringe Culture, NSFW/18+Blogs, Abelists, Zoophiles, Anti Semitism, Hate speech, MAPS/Pedos, Discourse Blogs, AI supprters, Y’know the basic DNI criteria stuff  (Just don't be a dick man this feels dumb to make.)

[*LINKS – 📎]

Beginning - N/A

Arcs  - N/A

Character Sheets - N/A

Most Recent - N/A 

[ladylooch]

What if you’re recently going out with Nico and you can’t go to the game but you have plans to go out to eat after? But after the defeat he is feeling sad and tired and cancels, and you feel bad for him so decide to get him takeout from his favorite place ♥️. Once you get to his house he is just sad looking at replays of the game so you cheer him up! (You can do whatever it can be fluffy and cute or hot l) love your writing!! 🥰🥰

A/N: Okay Nico girlies, it’s time to heal. 🙏🏻

You’re five minutes into the third period of the Devils game when it dawns on you that you have not heard Nico’s name in quite sometime. Your eyebrows lower as you pause from wolfing down popcorn and M&Ms - your guilty pleasure snack. Tonight, you are trying to hold off your hunger long enough to meet Nico for a late-night snack. Eating at 11:00pm isn’t your normal dinner procedure, but for Nico Hischier you’ll make any exception. Curiously, your head tilts to the side while you grab your phone, scrolling through Twitter, looking for an explanation. 

“Nico Hischier is missing from the #NJDevils bench.” 

Ten or so more tweets follow that one. You bite your lip. The Islanders pressure on him has been intense since puck drop. You hope he is okay, but resist the urge to reach out to him. He will when he is ready. 

At least you think so.

Things with Nico are new. You aren’t sure what to expect from him tonight.

You watch the rest of the game, curled up under your weighted blanket, hoping it will relieve some of the anxiety you feel pressing into your lungs. Breathing is laborious as your airway tightens. Tingles of uncertainty practically numb your fingers by the end of the game. 

A little ping brightens your dark living room to your left. You grab your phone, seeing Captain Nico 😈 pop up with a text (his doing, not yours). 

Hi 😘 I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to take a rain check for tonight. Doctor’s orders are to sit on the couch and not move until I leave for practice tomorrow. I am so sorry. I promise I will make this up to you. I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight. I’m sending you some pizza through DoorDash. 

A lump forms in your throat from both the frustration of not getting to see him, but also the sadness for him being less than 100%. 

It’s okay! I completely understand. Your payment of DoorDash Pizza will be enough for now 🤪 You’re so sweet and do not have to do that. I’ve had enough popcorn and M&Ms for the two of us! But, I hope you are okay. I am here if you need anything.

You sigh, tossing your phone back onto the couch and leaning down to scream into the fabric. Fuck. You wanted to end the night falling asleep in his arms again. He has this way of calming the entire world with his touch. You needed that after a stressful week at work. Now, you’ll be tossing and turning all night, worrying about him.

Now, I’m definitely getting you pizza. No girl dinner for my girl. I am bummed, babe. Trust me. Wanted to get my hands on you. It’s been a long week.

An idea pops into your head, but first, you’ll need to wait for that pizza.

The pizza is still warm in your hands when you walk towards Nico’s apartment door. Thank god for the nightly activity in Hoboken, so you could easily piggy back into the main entrance. Plus, who looks scary with pizza in their hands? No one.

Your boots scuff at the floor beneath your feet until you get to Nico’s door.

“Hey did someone here order grabby hands and pizza?” You call out after a soft knock. You chuckle at the movement you hear beyond the door.

“I did.” He chuckles as he opens the door. Your body relaxes when you see his dimpled smile. He is definitely happy to see you. He’s wearing a backwards hat and comfy, Devils sweats. He looks okay, but his right shoulder seems to have extra padding around it. You tentatively reach for it, feeling the coolness. “Ice.” He winces slightly when he tries to shrug.

“Back on the couch, cap.” You insist. 

“Can I have a kiss first?” He asks, puckering his lips. You lean up, going slightly on your tip toes to connect your faces. Your eyes close as Nico gives soft, gentle pecks that awaken your body. Pink dusts your cheeks as a soft moan escapes his mouth. “I’m afraid the hands will have to wait. I look better than I actually feel.” He tenderly adjusts the ice on his shoulder. You frown deeply, staring at his hand there. 

“Are you… going to be okay?” You finish hesitantly. You aren’t sure if he will tell you, or if you really even want to know. But you’re a little scared and more information would be better than being in the dark.

“It’s too swollen and sore to know the extent of what’s going on.” Nico says. “Could be a sprain, could be a tear.” You nod, then bring your eyes back to his.

“Whatever it is we will work through it together.”

“I’m so glad you are here.” He murmurs, reaching to caress your face. His thumb strokes your cheek in soft swipes that have your heart growing in your chest. “I bet if we each have like five slices of that pizza and fall asleep together, I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“I stay the night one time and now you’re so presumptuous Mr. Hischier.”

“I can’t help myself. You’re a great cuddler. I’ll beg if I have to.” There are his dimples again, just for you.

“And here I thought I was going to have to beg you.” You chuckle, poking his stomach then walking towards his kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” You ask him.

“No.” He murmurs back, looking lost in thought as he scans your face. “Have I said how much I love having you here?”

“Literally two seconds ago.”

“Okay, well, that was too long ago. I love having you here. A lot. I usually have to go through these moments alone and not having to do that tonight is nice.” You nod because you understand how comforting it is to have someone take care of you too.

“I love being here, Neeks. Now put your butt back on the couch. I’ll bring you pizza when its warm again.”

[hughesluv]

Broken Trust | Luke Hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader in which Luke ruined your relationship in the worse possible way. (words: 0.8k)

request: could u do a angest with luke! “are you fucking serious” “we built so much together, and you threw it all away…for her?” plz☺️♥️

a/n: not proofread! my first writing in forever! finally found the time to sit down and write, and of course it had to be so angsty😭 this broke my heart to write and i apologize in advance.

The time on your phone displayed a brutal 3:00 am, a merciless reminder of sleeplessness as you lay in your dimly lit room. The image was etched in your mind—the image of the man who had once been your entire world, his lips pressed against another woman's.

Ten missed calls, sixteen text messages, all from the very person responsible for this. The phone lay there, silent yet pulsating with the echoes of a love that had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

You placed your trust in him, more than anyone else in the world, only for him to carelessly toss it aside for a stranger he met in a bar? The front door slammed shut, reverberating through the house, and heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs. Yet, you remained seated, hunched over, tears streaming down your cheeks, each one hitting your phone. You watched the minutes on your phone's screen tick by, yet it felt like everything was standing still. What did you do to drive him to do this? You’d been nothing but a faithful and loving girlfriend.

Luke swung the door open. It forcefully smashed against the wall. But you couldn't summon the energy to care. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice pitiful. “I swear it meant nothing. I love you more than anyone else.”

"Are you fucking serious?" The words, heavy with disbelief, escaped your trembling lips. “It meant nothing? Luke, if you loved me, you would’ve never done that. You would’ve never touched that girl!” You spat his name like poison on your tongue.Your blood ran cold as he frowned. What did he have to be sad about? He ruined your relationship. He ruined you.

“I’m just so-” he began, but your laughter cut through the air, devoid of any humor.

“You’re just what?” you retorted. “You’re just sorry?! Oh my god, that means so much to me, Luke!” You spat, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "We built so much together, and you threw it all away…for her?” The anguish in your voice reverberated through the room, mingling with the breeze that rustled through the curtains.

Outside, the world remained oblivious, stars glistening with beauty. But inside, your world was crumbling, crumbling like the fragile trust that had been shattered.

He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the wooden floors, avoiding your accusing eyes. He looked like a child that got caught lying after breaking his mother’s vases.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised.” You muttered, your voice slicing through him like sharp knives. “Because everyone told me this was going to happen. Everyone said that you’re just another hockey boy with a lot of talent and a small brain.” The hurtful words rolled off your tongue so simply. You paused, breath hitching in your throat. “But I didn’t believe them. I didn’t believe them when they would say you were going to cheat. No, my Luke would never! He’s too sweet, he’s too kind.”

Soft sobs escaped both of your lips.

In the heavy silence that followed, Luke's shoulders slumped, weighed down not just by your words, but by the guilt he couldn't escape.

As your soft sobs filled the room, Luke finally found his voice, but it was shaky and hesitant. "Y/N, I don't know what came over me. It was a mistake—a terrible mistake. I can't even explain why I did it." He took a step toward you, but you backed away, your trust destroyed.

"You can't explain it?" Your voice wavered between anger and sadness. "That's not good enough, Luke. You owe me an explanation, a real one. Why did you ruin what we had?!”

He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I'm not making excuses, but I was confused, Y/N. Things were going wrong, and I made a stupid decision. I was weak."

A heavy silence hung in the air of the room.

Finally, you whispered, your voice filled with exhaustion, "I don't know if I can ever trust you again.”

His face contorted with anguish, and he fell to his knees beside you, tears glistening in his eyes. "I'll do anything to make it right, Y/N. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please, give me a chance to prove that I can change."

You stared at him through teary eyes. “I really want to forgive you. I really want to give you another chance,” you swallowed harshly. “But I can’t. Trust is what relationships are built on, and you ruined it. It’s never going to be the same.” Your soft tone tore through him.

What had he done?

Through choked out sobs you whispered, “I’m sorry.” Except you weren’t exactly sure what you were apologizing for.

The room echoed with the sounds of your broken hearts. You walked closer to him, pulling him into your chest. He didn’t have the strength to stand up, so he comfortably sobbed into your sweatshirt.

And that’s when you both realized it was over. It was truly over.

[norrisreads]

into you #YT22

PAIRING : yuki tsunoda x reader! + other drivers

SYNOPSIS: words on the paddock seems to be thrown around fast yet silently because apparently yuki tsunoda has a girlfriend who’s loving the relationship to be kept lowkey!

WARNINGS: fluff just FLUFF

FC: jennierubyjane on ig

yuki is out with the other drivers to celebrate seb’s last race, and pierre caught yuki grinning on his phone multiple times.

It isn’t like yuki to always be on his phone and smile like someone who’s crazily in love

“what got you smiling, yuki. It’s creeping me out” pierre pointed it out while nudging yuki

george hearing the convo, decided to jump in too.

“yeah, what pierre said. Don’t you think you’re looking at your phone every few minutes, mate?” george laughed and at this point everyone is focused on yuki tsunoda.

yuki’s ears turned red and gave out a confession.

“I’m just texting my girlfriend, don’t you guys do that too?”

pierre, shocked snatched yuki’s phone and judging from his reaction, everyone is refusing to believe the yuki tsunado has a girlfriend.

“It’s fucking real, it’s a real woman. There’s texts here saying baby. I’ve never know i’ll live to the day yuki is texting a woman”

yuki rolled his eyes proceeding to snatch his phone from pierre back

and the next few weeks it was all about yuki’s love life in the grid.

yukitsunoda0511 just posted

liked by pierregasly, alphataurif1 and others

yukistsunoda0511 found a new travel buddy 😎

view all comments

pierregasly oh it’s not us anymore charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc yuki broke the bro code

danielricciardo your travel buddy looks different mate 🤨

yukitsunoda0511 you’re dreaming.

liked by y/nfilms

yukisluvr YUKI GF? SINCE WHEN?

yukixpierre now this is A pierre effect

pierreswrld FOUL.

y/nfilms just posted

liked by pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511 and others

tagged yukitsunoda0511

y/nfilms my world is back home, can’t wait for more dates with you ♥️

yukitsunoda0511 please never cook again

y/nfilms wish is granted 🙏🏻

pierregasly where was my invitation

yukitsunoda0511 blocked

y/bestff/username get back to travelling yuki, i want her back

y/n knew that this day would come now or never where she stepped foot into the paddock. Yuki have finally convinced her to attend the miami gp, and now she’s here.

Attending the paddock is fine, what’s scaring her is meeting yuki’s teammates and friends, yuki knows you are scared of meeting new people and have never forced you into attending any of the races.

Avoiding the paparazzi and reporters, you’ve decided to attend alone and meet yuki at his driver’s room. While walking pass through everyone, you can’t help but to look down and kept on updating your best friend until u stumbled on to someone.

“whoa slow down, cutie” you’ve recognised this voice somewhere and you’ve finally placed the rightful owner to its voice once taking a look at his face.

“y/n? you’re here? you’re real?” Pierre shooked you

this is so awkward, you and Pierre have talked online numerous time but never in real life and this being your first ever online interaction is such an awkward timing.

“Surprise? I’m here! Any idea where’s yuki? I can’t get a hold of him” and before you could continue talking, pierre pulled you and directed you to an unknown location

“We’re having a drivers meeting, just the drivers no team principals or whatever. What a great timing, i was tasked to get drinks for them, but now that you are here, you should meet the rest too!”

Oh Dear, this was the biggest nightmare ever

Both of you stood in-front of a meeting room, following that Pierre knocked twice and there stood in-front of you was Yuki and 18 other drivers looking right at you and Pierre.

Knowing you so well, yuki went straight to you and held your hand to calm down your nerves

“hi baby, I’ll introduce you to them? you okay with that?” well you had no other choice, you can’t just walked away, that is such a bad impression, so you nodded your head

“hey guys, this is y/n my REAL girlfriend” yuki emphasised on the REAL

“whoa, always thought you were fake! I’m charles, great to finally meet yuki’s girlfriend”

and in that moment, you realised maybe you’re able to go public with yuki tsunoda because of how well loved he is.

y/nfilms just posted a photo

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and others

y/nfilms does anybody know who is this driver??? I’m attracted to him 🤭

nyckdevries that might be me 😊😊😊😊

pierregasly no it’s me sorry y/n 🙏🏻

yukitsunoda0511 never letting y’all interact ever.

yukitsunoda0511 hmmm not sure, i’ll ask around? just kidding, love you baby

yukitsunoda0511 just posted a story

[erinfern0]

i love your writing! can i please request some more softdom roman? with any prompt you want.

thank you ♥️

perfect for me.

softdom!roman x gn!reader

— gender-neutral anatomy, gender-neutral nicknames, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: he doesn't usually take any breaks at work, but you can take as much of his time as you want, especially after you've been so good to him. you were always his favorite stress cure.

warnings: slight financial dom, office setting, semi-public, teasing, unprotected sex, messy, creampie, cock warming, a bit of performance anxiety.

Please, reblog if you like my posts!

His mind was always busy, thinking about his work and all the upir stuff that was happening to him, but you were that little anchor that kept him going. You kept him feeling loved and secure, always calmed by your soft hands and words of affirmation. No matter how tough life was, just a glimpse of your smile could make his day better.

That's exactly why the moment he started to feel overwhelmed, he called you a little before midnight, asking you to visit him in his office. You were so worried the moment you heard his exhausted voice, almost begging you to use his card to pay for your taxi. And so you did, not even half an hour later you texted him you were waiting by the elevator.

He was so happy you were there for him, the moment you stepped into his office, he turned around in his chair, smiling ear to ear as he watched you lock the door behind yourself.

"Oh, baby... Look at you!" he said excitedly as he spotted your outfit. It was one of many that he had bought for you during one of many of his shopping sprees. Seeing the way the soft fabric wrapped around your body so perfectly made his heart melt. "Come here, love."

You giggled as you felt warmth spreading over your cheeks, walking over to his desk. Before you could even think about protesting, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling his face into your soft tummy.

"Are you okay, Rome?" you asked, fingers slowly playing with his hair just the way he loved so much, nails gently scratching the back of his neck. He murmured something in response, palms slowly kneading your hips.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired, y'know? Needed you here." he explained while resting his chin on your stomach just to look into your eyes. You smiled at him and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You weren't even sure when the soft, gentle pecks on his face started trailing down his neck, your fingers lingering over his clothed shoulders and chest, messing with the buttons of his shirt.

His breathing became heavier but shakier, quiet groans leaving his mouth every time you teased his exposed skin with your teeth, gentle hickeys suckled over it. Feeling the way your knee rested between his thighs, placed on his chair, makes him feel like he has his whole world above him.

"If you keep going, I might not..." he stopped with a gasp as you pressed your knee over his bulge, allowing him to slowly grind against it. The chair squeaked as he got up, your knee still between his legs as he pushed the papers aside. Proud smirk on his lips as he pulled your body to sit on top of his desk.

His body moved automatically, spreading your legs to fit between them, a low chuckle left his mouth when you threw your arms around his neck. You shifted, tilting your head to make space for his yet-cold lips to leave kisses the same way you did for him.

Roman's hands gripped your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, your crotch pressed against his as he purposefully avoided your lips. You tugged on his hair, whimpering into his ear as he pulled your shirt up, thumbs caressing your nipples under the material.

"R-Roman..." you moaned, feeling him gently bite into your exposed shoulder. He looked at you, eyes already glistening with lust, as he smiled at you. Nodding his head, he pressed a kiss on your cheek, smirking as you tried to reach his mouth with yours.

"You want a kiss, doll?" he asked, feeling the way you arched your back against his digits. Slowly rubbing and tugging on your sensitive buds. You nodded your head eagerly, legs wrapped around his waist. "Use your words... Say 'Please, kiss me, Roman'. I know you can..." he whispered encouragements into your ear, a little high-pitched whisper so similar to the way you plead. Vibrations of his voice send shivers down your spine.

"Please... Kiss me, Roman." you whined and he proudly kissed your lips. Fast pecks slowly turn into passionate making out against his desk, bodies grinding against each other while you claw at his belt, trying to unbuckle it.

He chuckled at your miserable attempts, quickly pulling your wrists away to help you. Your movements are rushed, clumsy, and fueled by the adrenaline that the idea of being discovered like this brought you. Roman's palm started rubbing your clothed sex, patting it slightly through the material, just to hear your little mewls against his lips.

His trousers fell to the ground with a clank of his belt, you softly palmed him through his boxers, focusing your thumb on the wet spot right above his slit. All this pent-up stress made him desperate, and happy at the same time – happy that he had such a loving little toy that was always there for him whenever he needed it the most.

He couldn't wait any longer, almost ripping his shirt off his body, staring at your hands flimsily pulling your own pants down. He can't keep his eyes off of you as you get yourself prepared for him. Not only that, but he praised you, tracing your inner thighs with his fingertips as he witnessed you moving your fingers in and out of your tight hole. Spreading them around with the addition of spit to help with the slight soreness.

"All this just for me, huh?" he asked, kissing your temple as he stroked his cock, precum covering your smooth skin. Roman never cared about how messy you got, it never bothered him. Sometimes, though, it worked like fuel to his actions. Getting him so eager to finally make you feel good, to hear your soft moans again.

This time, you were in his office, legs wrapped around him as if you were scared he was going to move away any second. But he wouldn't ever leave you like this, exposed and vulnerable. You were his and to his eyes only.

His nature took over, pulling your thighs apart as he slowly slid inside, feeling your walls already clench around his leaking tip. He groaned, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes focused on the spot where your bodies connected.

"Am I... doing okay?" you asked, panting above him as you tugged on his hair. The way his head jolted upwards to face you made you squirm in your seat. Slowly moving his hips, one hand on your thigh, the other cupping your jaw. Not harshly pulling towards him, just softly holding it as his greatest treasure.

"You're doing so good for me, baby. As you always do." He didn't sound upset, just slightly shocked that such a silly thing could ever cross your mind. His hips started thrusting into you a little harder, making your eyes roll and your voice crack. "So. Fucking. Perfect."

Soon enough, his palm covered your lips, muting your moans as he continued, kissing your neck and earlobe as he panted against you. Your hands focused on holding his torso close to yours.

The room was quickly filled with rhythmical sounds of flesh slapping against each other and the desk hitting the wall behind him, but he didn't even care at this point. He slowed down, seeing how overwhelmed you were becoming. You couldn't even look at him anymore, eyes closed shut, tears slowly pricking at the corners of your eyes as he pounded you.

His movements slowed down just to allow you to rest for a second, his forehead against yours as he pecked your cheek, asking if you were okay. Roman's hand moved down your body, easily finding your shoulder, then your arm until he found your hand, taking it away from his neck.

He kissed each one of your knuckles until you looked back at him. "Too much for you?" he asked worryingly but never stopped moving his hips. Your lover chuckled as you shook your head, grinding against him for even more friction. The way he kept hitting that sweet spot inside of you started to create a knot in your lower stomach, you couldn't allow him to stop now. So he didn't.

Roman found the pace that got you the most worked up, still hissing your hand as his eyes closed in the indescribable, almost overwhelming pleasure. Your bodies were caged together over his desk, above the documents that he was supposed to take care of.

His arm wrapped around your waist just to hold you a little closer if that was even possible. Your lips connected for the last time before those coils inside the both of you unraveled. You moaned into his mouth, feeling the way he painted your walls in his spend, claiming you yet another time.

He panted heavily, a string of saliva connecting your lips as they parted. Roman grasped your shirt, pushing his face against your chest to calm down, not pulling out yet. The warmth of your flushed bodies interlocked with each other always made him feel that maybe there was heaven for someone like him.

You spent the rest of your time in his office, straddling his lap as he sat by his desk. Leaving kisses all over your neck and shoulders, arm still wrapped around you as he worked. All that stress he couldn't bear was gone, replaced by his well-known post-sex kindness and care. Even when his mind was solemnly focused of his paperwork, his body still soothed you in the gentlest ways possible, despite him almost breaking you a couple of minutes ago.

masterlist | request info | kinktober 23

[angelpuns]

OH HELL YEAH I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!!

Did someone paint the stripes and details on L330-N?? Or did he do it himself, thinking it was important? And, in relation to them, does he ever think about where they came from?

And, to add, does he know (or did know) that he was built to replace someone? Did he react to it at all?? Does ninpō spirit leo think its kinda weird that he has a robot counterpart just a-wandering about or is he just kinda in acceptance that his brothers are shit at coping with loss?

For Kid Leo AU, how is big Leo doing? I get that theres only so much that a younger splinter can do with their limited resources and I do kind of wonder how Leo and Splinter interact. Is it awkward? Does Splinter accidently infantilize him at all (either due to the fact he showed up in such a sorry state or the fact that it's still his baby blue and he doesnt know what else to do)? Does Leo lash out at him at all, either for that or just in general from trauma? And, vice versa, does Splinter bark at him at all when he's stressed or overwhelmed and treat him like an adult when he's still just a teenager (notably a seriously traumatized one, but i imagine going from movie star to coliseum fighter to sewer dweller isnt a walk in the park either..)? Idk im thinking thoughts.

Anyways love your art style and comics and I gobble them up every opportunity i get. Love youuu!! ♥️♥️

I couldn't draw a ton of stuff for this one, so I decided to just answer with text!

Donnie actually painted the stripes on L330-N, since he built L33 to hopefully get Leo back :)

I think L33 probably does think about where they come from when he is able to see them. He's only been able to look in a mirror a few times before, but he's always very fascinated by them!

He doesn't have any memories of 'before'. All he knows is one day he woke up and found himself in an apocalyptic world, and he THINKS he's looking for someone.

I can't say much about the Hamato spirit Leo, cause that'd be spoilers ;)

I assume by big Leo you mean the spinoff Leo :) I haven't thought much about him tbh, though I imagine things are pretty awkward. On one hand, Leo would be glad to see his dad and his family looking healthy and safe and not yet traumatized by the Kraang, but he'd also be sad because he's the only 'broken' one. He and Splinter probably would end up having a heart to heart and its all fine in the end or smthn. I haven't thought much of the spinoff since i haven't really had any ideas for continuing it, especially since its not canon :/ though I'm glad that people enjoy when I do post about it :)

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying my art <3