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selfcarecap · 1 day ago

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Dear Santa

✧ Logan Howlett x female!reader x Wade Wilson

✧ summary: Your best friend and roommate Wade is a little lonely over the holidays, third-wheeling with you and Logan the entire time. But the holidays are all about giving, so you and Logan decide to fulfil some of the more sexual wishes on Wade’s wishlist. Or: You have a threesome with Logan and Wade.

✧ warnings: smut 18+ (oral sex, piv sex, cum eating, frotting kinda, liittle bit of ass eating (f rec); deffffinitely attraction between Wade and Logan but the focus is on the reader), Christmas mention (just for the seasonal vibes, not the religion obv. wanted to make it neutral originally but sorry I needed Christmas vibes specifically!!), this is my first time writing Wade beyond a few lines, idk if I did him justice but either way this was so fun to write!

gorgeous dividers by @dollywons <3

✧ word count: 4.7k

Wade Wilson likes to flirt. That’s no secret.

But he’s been even more flirty recently, in the weeks leading up to the winter holidays. In fact, he’s been so flirty that you had to check in with your boyfriend Logan to make sure that he doesn’t mind.

And no, Logan doesn’t mind. If anything, he enjoys watching how Wade makes you squirm with the sexual remarks that you have to pretend are below your level but you actually quite enjoy.

It started when you bought yourself some cute Christmas pyjamas, pink and with a cheesy pattern on them.

“You look so cute, I could just eat you out,” Wade said as soon as he saw you in it.

You sat down between him and Logan on the sofa, ready for your first December movie night, and you shared an unsure look with your boyfriend.

“Don’t you mean you could just eat her up?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised.

Wade considered it for a moment. “Hmm, no. I said the right thing.”

You spent the rest of the night flustered, leaning into Logan and hiding your face in his neck as deeply as you could.

The next time it happens is when you get out of the car after buying some festive decorations for your shared apartment with Wade.

You’re getting the shopping bags from the back when you notice him still in the driver’s seat, leaning over to inspect the place you were just sitting.

“What are you doing?” you ask Wade, cheeks heating up.

“I was just checking if you were sitting in a pile of sugar, cause that ass is looking sweet.”

“You know why they call me Wilson?” he asks you over breakfast one time.

“Because that’s your last name?”

“No, because I will soon be between your legs.”

You take a bite of your food, humming, “That one still needs some work.”

Wade nods, “I know, still experimenting on the execution. Thanks for the feedback.”

“Does my tongue taste funny to you?”

You roll your eyes at Wade. “Ew.”

“No, I mean it, I think I’m having an allergic reaction. Can you at least look at it?”

“Oh!” you hurry towards him.

“You know, baby angel,” he tells you one afternoon, “I think you’re the only one who can still be on Santa’s nice list despite being so naughty.”

Your eyebrows inch closer together, “How am I naughty?”

“Your bedroom is right next to mine, Miss likes-being-spanked.”

“Oh…” is all you manage to say.

“But from what I hear in there you are a good girl, so that checks out with Santa’s nice list.”

It’s not strange per se that he’s acting this way, but it still makes more sense when you find Wade’s Christmas wishlist.

You’re in his bedroom to get back a hoodie of yours that he borrowed ‘because it smells like you’ and he wanted to cuddle it while he sleeps. He said it so sweetly that you couldn’t say no, though you hope cuddling is really all he did to it.

You find the piece of paper jammed between the bedframe and the mattress, and it only catches your eye because of the messy ‘Dear Santa’ scribbled at the top.

Wade is always graphic, but reading his wishlist still makes a tingle run up your spine. All that’s on the list is things he wants to do with you and to you, all of sexual nature, of course. Logan is involved too.

You read Wade’s wishes and get giddy, running to your bedroom to show Logan.

You’ve been struggling to find a meaningful Christmas gift for Wade, so this is going to be perfect. Now all you have to do is wait for the next horny joke – and you’re sure that won’t be long.

It’s Christmas Eve and you and Logan are watching some show when Wade comes in. It’s toasty warm, the fairy lights reflecting on the tv screen during every dark scene. You’re sitting between Logan’s spread legs with your back against his chest.

Wade sits down next to you two, eyes glued to your legs, bare underneath an oversized graphic t-shirt. You give him a minute before he says something.

His words come three seconds later.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving, and your right leg is Christmas, can I visit you between the holidays?”

You lean to the side to glance up at Logan, who gives you a subtle nod. You settle back against his chest, “Sure.”

“Wait, what?” Wade’s jaw drops.

You giggle, humouring him, “What do you wanna do when you visit me between the holidays?”

He scrambles for an answer, still surprised at your words, “Since Logan is my little honey badger,” your boyfriend huffs from behind you, “and honey badgers are named after their favourite food, I wanna know if your honey is as sweet as I’ve imagined.”

You laugh but Logan grumbles, “If you wanna eat her pussy, just say that.”

Wade rolls his eyes, holding a hand to the side of his mouth, “Honey badgers are no fun,” he says to you, “But yes, I wanna eat your pussy.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling.

His eyes light up. “Okay? Like, you’re giving me your consent okay?”

“Yes, Wade,” you giggle, watching him fall to his knees in front of the sofa as he gently pushes your legs apart. His fingers against your skin immediately make you feel warm.

Before Wade can get to your panties, Logan reaches around from behind you and pulls the hem of your shirt down, blocking Wade’s view. “Ah,” he chides, “No fucking manners. You kiss her first before you get between her legs.”

Wade doesn’t have to be told twice.

Your lips meet with a fervour exactly like you would expect from Wade. You figured he’s been lonely the last few weeks, single and alone while you and Logan are still in the honeymoon phase. You’re glad to provide some love for Wade. He deserves it.

While Wade almost bites your face off, Logan’s hands find your hips, gently circling the skin there, and you can practically feel the heat from your underwear radiating in the little space between you.

Logan knows your body so well by now that he can tell immediately when you’re getting needy. He reaches around you, taking hold of Wade’s jaw, interrupting the kiss.

“Now,” Logan commands.

“Don’t boss me around, the only one who can boss me around is this little thing,” Wade’s hand trails up your knee. You giggle, trying to suppress the moan you want to let out.

You spread your legs for Wade as he gets back on the carpeted floor, hands smoothing up your legs, playing with the hem of your panties. You want to tell him to stop teasing, the butterflies in your stomach almost too much to bear.

He laughs, “Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have the self control to tease you like this.”

You lift your hips for Wade to pull your panties all the way down your legs, grateful that he doesn’t comment on how wet they already are. You don’t comment on how he stuffs them in his pocket.

Logan helps Wade spread your legs further, two sets of strong hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. You’re getting wetter by the second.

“This is even better than seeing Hugh Jackman oiled up and shirtless with ‘Like a Prayer’ playing,” Wade says when he sees your pussy.

“What?”

“Huge who?”

Wade ignores the questions. “God,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, and you resist the urge of your legs to weakly fall shut from the pleasure.

He takes his time with you, eating your pussy like a five course meal, making out with it like he never wants it to end. Wade moans against your skin even more than you moan from the pleasure.

He fucks you with one finger, then two, while he licks your clit, but it’s still not enough. Luckily, your boyfriend recognises your need.

“Quit squirming, will ya? So needy,” Logan scoffs, lifting your hips off him for a moment to pull down his sweats, taking out his hard cock. You give him a desperate nod before he can even ask anything, and Wade helps position you so that Logan can slowly sit you down on his dick, all three of you sighing in pleasure as he bottoms out.

“Mhmm, good girl. Much better. Was startin’ to get cold anyway.”

You nod mindlessly, pussy already pulsing around your boyfriend.

“So fucking pretty,” Wade mumbles. He licks your clit, your pussy stuffed full with Logan’s dick.

Logan lifts your shirt over your head, discarding it in a corner of the sofa, playing with your tits from behind you. Wade looks up at your chest, tongue on your puffy clit, and moans so hard his eyes almost roll back. He brings a hand up to squeeze your tit, leaving his hand there.

“You close, baby?” Logan asks, able to feel your every squeeze around his cock, and you nod, grabbing his knee for support.

“Yeah, pretty girl, cum for us,” Wade parts with your pussy for just a split second to say this. Logan’s hand comes down from your boob to gently press down on the space between your abdomen and your pussy, and you feel everything three times more intensely.

Wade begins to suck on your clit, and that’s your undoing. You whimper as you try to fuck yourself on your boyfriend’s big cock just a little bit, squeezing around him, as Wade sloppily licks your clit to draw out your orgasm.

All of Logan’s willpower trying not to cum flows into your hips as he grabs you there. You feel a warm load of precum in your pussy, but he manages to resist the urge to cum, pulling you up and off his dick as soon as you stop pulsing with the aftershocks.

All three of you are out of breath. Logan turns you towards him to press a big kiss to your mouth, pinching your cheek, “You really needed to cum, hm? Did so well.”

“That’s three Michelin stars right there,” Wade says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it afterwards.

You blink at Wade.

“Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey?” he offers.

“Michelin? I knew that guy…” Logan says, shaking his head a moment later, “You wanna keep going?”

You nod eagerly.

Your boyfriend smirks, “Let’s see if Wade can make you cum too.”

Wade puts a hand on his chest as he stands back up, hard dick tenting his sweatpants, “Je m’excuse. Were you not just there for me licking her pretty pussy until she came?”

Logan shrugs, “I was the one inside her, bub.”

Wade huffs, “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

You smile, pulling Wade’s face closer to kiss him again.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks in between kisses.

“Yes, but not yet.”

Logan completes your thought, “Not before I cum in her.” You smile at his possessiveness.

Wade puts his hands on his face, “Woah, wait. Did you two plan this? That’s so hot.”

You’re already on all fours, Logan getting on his knees behind you, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips. You sigh in pleasure, pawing at Wade’s sweatpants and pulling him to the sofa by the drawstrings.

He moans, pushing his sweats down and getting in front of you, “Well, merry fucking christmas to me.”

You kiss Wade by his hips and support yourself with a hand on his thigh. He gets the tiniest little bit harder, a brief flex of his dick, now fully hard. A drop of precum drips down, and you only just catch it with your palm before it lands on the sofa.

Logan smiles behind you, “Can’t have him ruinin’ the sofa, hm, baby?”

You nod lazily, and look up at Wade, “Can I?”

“Holy shit, baby, of course you can.” Wade looks you right in the eyes when you open your mouth to take the head of his cock past your lips, moaning when you taste him.

Logan begins to fuck you at the same time, slowly at first. You suck Wade’s dick in the rhythm of Logan’s thrusts, slow but firm, that move you forward a little bit every time. Somehow, you manage to still look up at Wade with a little fucked out look in your eyes as your boyfriend fucks your wet pussy just how you like it.

“Such a good girl, baby,” Logan mumbles, “taking us both so well.”

Wade stutters “Yeah, yeahh, knew this would feel good but,” he needs a second to recalibrate when you move your head down to lick his balls, heavy cock falling against your cheek, spilling precum. Wade’s eyes fall shut as his head drops back.

He continues after a few moments, “but this feels like heaven.”

When you move back to his dick and take him into your mouth all wetly, Wade cums instantly. The pleasure of having him pulsing against your tongue and his cum spilling down your throat makes you clench around Logan’s cock so hard that he moans.

“Yeah, baby, cum for me,” Logan sneaks a hand around your hip to play with your clit, and with Wade’s dick still throbbing against your tongue, you cum too. You feel Logan letting go, fucking his cum into your pussy that’s squeezing him with the pulse of your orgasm.

You all come down from your shared high giddy and giggling, Wade’s hand smoothing over your cheek, Logan’s hand soothingly running down your spine.

Wade’s dick, still hard, flexes in front of your face when you look at him, sticking out your tongue, his creamy cum covering it. “Saved you some,” you say carefully, making sure to not let any of it spill from your mouth.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, bending down to kiss you and messily make out. Some of his cum spills from between your mouths, dripping down your chest.

Logan manhandles you to turn you around onto your back, and you bounce a little when you land. Then he bends down to lick Wade’s cum off your chest in one broad lick. You’re too excited yourself to pay attention to Wade’s reaction.

Logan moves to rest your head in his lap by his lower thighs, cock hard again and close to your face. He nods between your legs, telling Wade, “there you go. She’s wanted this for a long time”

Your head snaps straight up so that you’re looking at Logan, your gazes meeting. Your skin heats up all the way down to your chest and Logan smirks, “It’s okay, princess. This pussy’s still mine.” He reaches between your legs to deliver a gentle slap to your pussy, collecting some of his cum from inside you on his fingers, bringing them to your mouth. You suck them eagerly, and then sit up briefly to pull his face into a kiss.

“I love how we taste together,” you tell him.

Wade gets between your legs and tuts at Logan. “What an animal, doesn’t even clean up after himself,” he huffs and promptly licks your pussy. He smirks up at you and Logan, “I love how you two taste too.”

“Need you to fuck me, Wade.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing those words. Fucked my fist listening to you fucking so many times, gave myself friction burn.”

You and Logan share a smile. You know this; he talks to himself while he’s jerking off – you’re not sure if he’s aware.

Wade lines his dick up with your pussy, pushing your legs up against your chest, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit until you’re squirming. When Wade fucks you, he fucks you slowly, tauntingly yet desperately.

Logan lazily plays with his cock, slapping it against your cheek and your tongue from time to time, your mouth eagerly chasing after him, but he’s just teasing you, wants you to focus on Wade.

“Doin’ such a good job, baby,” Logan says from above you, stroking his hand over your cheek.

“Thank you, peanut,” Wade says, eyes closed, thinking Logan is talking to him. You both let him remain in that belief.

Wade is lost in the feeling of your warm, wet and tight pussy around his dick, languidly fucking you as your pussy starts to squeeze around him more and more as you get closer to your own orgasm.

“God baby, feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. Can’t last much longer”, Wade rasps, playing with your clit. But it’s messy, and Logan can tell it won’t be enough for you. He bats Wade’s hand away and circles your clit instead.

You cum before Wade, moaning as your pussy clenches around him, triggering his orgasm. Your back arches as pleasure flows through your belly and spreads throughout your whole body, Wade’s hips desperately chasing to keep that heavenly feeling until he stills inside you while he’s bottomed out.

“Still haven’t made her cum,” Logan says, with a teasing smile.

Wade looks up, “I was the one inside of her, bub.”

You roll your eyes at their teasing each other, but you don’t care as long as it’s about your pleasure. You don’t care who made you cum.

“Bend over for me, baby,” Wade says, pulling out, “wanna see if that ass is really made of sugar.”

You laugh as you get on all fours, Wade pulling your hips in place. He bends down and licks your pussy where he just came in you, swallowing some of his cum.

Then, he grabs your ass so hard your cheeks spread. Wade licks around your tight hole, and you wrap your hand around your boyfriend’s hard dick. Logan bends down to give you a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as the tip of Wade’s tongue pushes inside you.

You can’t deny that it feels good but you’ve never let Logan’s mouth stay near your ass long either. You squirm so that Wade moves away from your hips, and he gives you ass a teasing slap as he sits back up.

“Definitely made out of sugar,” he concludes.

Just when Wade is about to stand up, some more of his cum drips out of your pussy as you involuntarily clench around nothing, and he stuffs his face back between your legs. He sits back up with cum in his mouth, ready to kiss you, but you shake your head, looking up at Logan.

Your boyfriend pretends to be unaffected, but you can see behind it.

“Can he?” you ask Logan, and he agrees to it. You grab his jaw and open his mouth manually, biting your lip as you look at Wade. Logan’s skin is hot under your touch.

“Here you go, open up,” you beam at Logan, watching as Wade holds his jaw all tenderly, spitting his own cum into Logan’s mouth. You hold your breath as you wait for them to kiss, but the moment doesn’t come.

You visibly pout when they pull away without making out.

“I know, sugar bear, me too, but Peanut’s not ready yet,” Wade shrugs.

You press a quick kiss of encouragement to Logan’s lips, and he and Wade are on you again within the second, but you need a break after your orgasms. But that little exchange, their lips almost close enough to kiss, turned you on so much that you want to see more of them.

You tell them to sit together, facing each other, as close as they can. Their muscular thighs are tangled around each other’s hips, Logan’s leg resting over Wade’s on one side, vice versa on the other one. Their dicks are close enough to touch with just a little bit of assistance.

“Can I?” you ask, kneeling in front of the sofa.

“Can you what, princess?” Logan bites his lip.

“Rub your dicks together?”

“Yeah, but come here. Don’t wanna see the face it’s attached to.” Logan lies down and lifts you on top of him, your pussy in his face and your upper body by their pushed together crotches.

“Oh pfft, you know you love it,” Wade comments.

“He does,” you kiss him for reassurance. Logan is obviously into Wade, he just hasn’t admitted that to himself yet.

Logan begins to lick at your pussy, tongue playing with your clit. “Don’t. Can’t focus,” you warn with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

You wrap one hand each around their cocks, just jerking them off for a few moments.

“Don’t make it so suspenseful, sugar bear, or I’ll cum from the anticipation alone.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” you shrug with one shoulder, smiling down at their throbbing dicks in your hands.

As much as you’d love to see Wade cumming all over himself before you’ve even started, you have other plans. You let some of your spit drip down over their tips, jacking them off a bit faster, hearing their breaths stutter.

“Peanut, you’re really missing out not being able to see her. She’s so gorgeous.”

“I know she is, Wade.”

You smile at their compliments, lowering your head to trail your tongue between their cocks, paying more attention to your boyfriend first, then to Wade. They taste of your pussy and their precum, wetting your tongue with their taste.

Playing with them for a bit, you rub their dicks together, jerking them off at the same time.

“You need some assistance?” Wade asks, sitting up more and moving his hips. All you have to do is hold your boyfriend’s dick in place as Wade grinds against him, rubbing his cock against Logan’s for a few moments.

“God that feels good, wanna cum,” Wade groans.

“Off,” you tell him, smiling when his hips still in defeat. You tease them both a little longer, rubbing their tips together until their precum mixes and they’re both close, but you don’t let them cum.

You get off them, telling them to stand up while you sit on the sofa facing them, leaning back a little.

“Which one of you wants to cum on me first?” you ask, voice sweet and angelic.

They both start jerking off immediately, and you almost drool at having these two tall, muscular men stroking their dicks right in front of you – and for you – fighting over who gets to drain their balls for you first.

It’s Wade who cums first, a string of obscenities leaving his mouth as he jerks his dick to orgasm, painting your stomach white with his cum. Logan isn’t far behind, telling you what a pretty girl you are as he cums over your belly and tits. Their cum mixes, and it becomes impossible to tell whose cum landed where.

You sit up to lick your boyfriend’s dick clean, then Wade’s, then you lie back, puffing out your chest.

“Can one of you get wipes to clean me?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly that’s not what they’re going to do. They get to their knees simultaneously, starting to lick their cum off you, licking you clean.

They sit down next to you afterwards, you sandwiched between them. They lift one leg of yours each over their lap, touching you all over, putting their hands between your legs.

“Such a good girl for us, hm?” Wade says.

Your boyfriend agrees. “Did such a good job, baby.”

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum for Logan and me?”

You nod lazily, all blissed out already, “yes please.” Your eyes fall shut at how good it feels, and at some point you can barely tell who is kissing you, whose hand it is playing with your nipples, or whose fingers are inside your wet pussy.

You cum for them, clenching hard around the fingers inside your pussy as another hand grabs at your knee to keep your legs apart. When you open your eyes again after a few moments, both men are looking at you lovingly, and it’s Logan who slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy, delivering a few gentle, smoothing circles over your clit.

You grab his wrist to bring his fingers up to your face, looking him in the eyes, at how they light up when you suck his fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, no matter how often he’s seen you do it.

“You’re such a lucky bastard, honey badger,” Wade smiles, leaning his head against the back of the sofa.

You innocently smile at Wade, “I’d say I’m quite lucky too.”

You end up cuddling in your and Logan’s shared bed, all fucked out of your minds, freshly showered but exhausted to bits.

“All in all, a successful Christmas Eve,” Wade says, making you giggle.

You force yourself from your warm and cozy position between them when you remember Wade’s list, grabbing it off your bedside table, along with a pen.

Wade’s cheeks redden in recognition at the piece of paper, “You found that? That was just me writing fanfiction before bed one night.”

“We wanted to give you a nice gift,” Logan grumbles.

“Yeah,” you agree, “We didn’t want you to feel like you were third-wheeling all throughout the holidays.”

Wade smiles one of his sweet smiles, “Thank you, guys. You’ve made this little guy,” he points at his face, “and especially this big guy,” he points at his crotch, “very happy.”

“Let’s see if you got all your wishes.”

Dear Santa,

I’ve been an exceptionally good boy this year, my kill count is at a measly 34. I think I deserve a few things. Here are my wishes for Christmas this year:

- Eat out Logan’s girlfriend

“You know she has a name, right?” Logan huffs.

“Of course, but the writer didn’t want to have to use the dreaded y slash n.”

“What?” you cringe.

“Nothing, keep reading.”

- Eat my or Logan’s cum out of her pussy

- Sword-fighting with Logan while his girlfriend supervises

- Cum eating contest off her body with Logan

- Cuddle with them

“What genius came up with this?” Wade grins.

“We had to do some interpreting, but we got everything, right?”

Surprisingly, it’s Logan who points at the last wish, “We haven’t done that one yet.”

“Yippie!” Wade claps, “cuddle wuddle time.”

“Nevermind,” Logan says, ready to get up and sleep on the sofa, but you pull him back by the wrist, giggling.

You switch off the lights, putting Wade’s wishlist away – all wishes checked off.

Logan moves closer to you, pressing his chest against your back to cuddle, giving you a loving kiss before lying down.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

You let Wade snuggle up to you as the little spoon, draping your arm over his chest, and he holds onto your wrist with a warm hand.

“You made me a very happy Christmas boy, you know that?”

You laugh, “We love you, Wade.”

“I love you too,” he says, and lies his head down on the pillow. You kiss the side of his head before you pull the blanket over yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Wade.”

Just as you’re about to fall asleep a while later, you hear Wade’s voice:

“You know that means Santa’s real, right?”

P.S. Thank you so much for reading <3 Let me know what you liked and reblog to get on Wade’s and Logan’s nice list 🤭😇 and Merry Christmas!!! <3

#logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x reader #Logan howlett x reader x wade wilson #wade wilson x reader x Logan howlett #wolverine x reader x deadpool #deadpool x you x wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #Logan howlett smut #wade wilson smut #Logan howlett x you #wade wilson x you #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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jupiterpilgrim · 3 hours ago

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Everything's Ruined

Christmas Special 🎄

Hanni x Male Reader

word count: 10K

The room glows with the warm, soft buzz of Christmas lights tangled messily over the mantle and around the windows. Music hums in the background—a lazy mix of holiday classics and some throwback pop songs someone thought was ironic. You’re sunk deep into the couch, a heavy glass of whiskey and eggnog dangling loose in your hand. It’s late, the party is only half over, but everyone is already wasted, even though they're just chilling now; a handful of half-drunk bodies lounging, half-assedly debating the virtues of Die Hard as a Christmas movie.

Then there’s Hanni.

She’s curled up next to you, except "curled" isn’t right. She’s draped—like she forgot personal space was a thing about three drinks ago. Her dark hair tumbles over her face as she tips her head back in a laugh that’s way too loud for whatever dumb joke someone just made. Her cheeks are flushed, probably from the wine she’s been inhaling all night, and when she looks at you, her eyes are glassy and warm, like you’re the most hilarious person alive just for existing.

Thing is, Hanni’s your best friend—the one person you're not supposed to have these feelings for, but with the alcohol in your system and the way she’s leaning into you now, all flushed cheeks and that stupid, glassy smile, it’s getting real fucking hard to remember why.

“God, you’re so fuckin' cute,” she slurs, and you blink. She doesn’t seem to notice, just scoots closer, swinging her legs over your lap like she’s staking territory. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

You snort. “You tell me that every time you’re wasted, Hanni. Get some new material.”

She pouts, sticking out her lip in this over-the-top cartoon way that somehow makes you grin like an idiot. Her weight settles heavier against you, and yeah, you’re feeling that whiskey warmth in your veins too. Her hand wanders—innocently enough at first—over your shoulder, across your chest, then down to rest right at the edge of dangerous territory.

“I’m serious this time, though!” She pokes your chest like she’s trying to prove a point. “You’re the only person who gets me, y’know? Like…fuck, dude, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d probably marry you.”

That pulls a laugh out of you, sharp and incredulous. “Wow, what an honor. Thanks for the consolation prize.”

Hanni leans forward, her face inches from yours now, her breath sweet with wine and whatever sugary cocktail she’s been nursing all night. “I mean it, asshole. You’re like…everything.” Her voice drops, softer now, and she smirks, but it’s the kind of smirk that’s all affection and none of the usual bite. “You’re my fucking rock.”

You feel something twist low in your gut. “Shit, Hanni, who knew wine turned you into a Hallmark card?” you say, trying to keep it light.

She bursts into giggles, doubling over, her face pressed to your chest. Her ass shifts on your lap, and you freeze for a second because—fuck��her skirt’s hiked up just enough for you to feel the heat of her through the thin fabric. Hanni doesn’t notice, or maybe she doesn’t care, because she’s too busy tracing lazy patterns over your stomach now, her touch just shy of intimate.

“Y’know what sucks?” she mumbles, tilting her head up to look at you, her hair sticking to her damp forehead. “You’re too good for me. Like, no joke, you should be with someone hot, not stuck babysitting my drunk ass.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to focus on the way her thighs are pressing into yours or the flash of bare skin where her sweater’s ridden up. “Who says I’m stuck? Maybe I like babysitting your drunk ass.”

Her face softens in this way that makes your chest feel too tight. She shifts again, pressing closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear when she whispers, “That’s why I love you.”

It’s teasing, almost playful, but there’s something heavier underneath, something that makes your pulse spike. You’re about to say something—maybe a joke, maybe something stupidly earnest—but then someone across the room yells out, “Alright, last call for shots!”

Hanni perks up immediately, her attention snapping away from you. “Hell yeah! Let’s fucking go!” she yells, hopping up so fast you almost spill your drink.

As she stumbles off, you exhale, leaning back into the couch, trying to will away the heat simmering low in your stomach. It’s just Hanni, you remind yourself. She gets like this when she’s drunk—touchy, emotional, saying all kinds of shit she won’t even remember tomorrow. But fuck, if she isn’t beautiful, with her tiny frame and those absurdly thick thighs that make no goddamn sense on someone her size.

You shake your head, draining the rest of your drink.

—

What began as a quiet night spirals into that perfect mess of booze and laughter, the kind of chaos that only happens when no one’s watching the clock or counting drinks. Someone’s wearing a Santa hat and nothing else but a pair of boxers. Someone else decided the fake Christmas tree would make a great dance partner, and now half the ornaments are shattered on the floor. You and Hanni are still on the couch, her body leaning heavily against yours as you both wheeze-laugh at something dumb on the TV—a claymation Rudolph looking suspiciously baked out of his red-nosed mind.

At some point, Hanni grabs the half-empty bottle of wine from the coffee table and lifts it in a mock toast. “To you, bestie,” she slurs, words spilling out like syrup. “The only motherfucker who didn’t ditch me when I got kicked outta karaoke night last month.”

You roll your eyes, reaching to take the bottle from her before she spills it. “You got kicked out because you tried to sing ‘WAP’ like it was a gospel hymn, Hanni.”

“It was art, you heathen,” she shoots back, but her pout barely lasts before her face splits into a grin. “But seriously. You’re the real MVP.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you say, laughing as you set the bottle safely aside. “But thanks, I guess.”

Time keeps sliding, blurring at the edges. Someone takes an Uber home. Someone else starts snoring under the coffee table. By the time you look around again, the room’s mostly empty. It’s just you, Hanni, and the sound of some low-budget Christmas movie droning in the background. Hanni’s slumped sideways against you, her head resting on your shoulder. Her breath is soft, wine-sweet and warm, and when you shift slightly, she groans.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” she mumbles, voice thick with the haze of too much alcohol. Her hand tightens on your arm like a sleepy cat staking its claim.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, but the sight of her like this—soft and unguarded—makes something in your chest clench. “You, on the other hand, can’t even sit up straight. You’re not going anywhere.”

She blinks up at you, her eyes unfocused but shining, like she’s trying to process your words. “So what? I just crash here?”

“No,” you say, patting her leg. “My place is closer, and I don’t trust you not to wander into traffic if I send you home.”

She snorts, the sound loud and ungraceful. “Aw, look at you, being all responsible and shit. You’re such a dad sometimes.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted.”

You help her to her feet, and she wobbles, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. After saying goodbye to your friends, somehow, you manage to guide her the short distance to your apartment, both of you giggling like idiots the whole way. By the time you’re inside, her sweater’s sliding off one shoulder, and her hair’s a mess, but she looks at you with this sleepy grin that makes your head swim worse than the booze.

You sit her down on the couch, and she flops back like she’s about to take a nap right then and there. “God, your couch is so comfy,” she murmurs, kicking off her shoes.

“It’s a couch, Hanni, not a five-star hotel,” you say, but you’re smiling anyway as you sit down next to her.

For a while, it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when the party’s over, and the city outside is muted under the weight of night. Hanni shifts closer, curling her legs under her, her knee brushing yours. She looks at you, and there’s something in her gaze now—not just the drunken haze, but something deeper. Something you’ve been trying not to notice all night.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she says, her voice soft but steady.

You frown. “What? That I’m cute?”

She nods, biting her lip like she’s bracing for impact. “Yeah. That. And the part about loving you.”

Your chest tightens, and you let out a short, breathless laugh, trying to break the tension. “Hanni, you’re drunk. You’re gonna forget this by tomorrow morning.”

“Fuck that,” she says, sitting up straighter now, her face inches from yours. “You think I don’t know how I feel? You’re my best friend, yeah, but also…you’re more. You’ve always been more.”

Her words hang there, heavy and undeniable. Your pulse thrums in your ears as she leans in, her lips brushing yours, tentative at first. Then it deepens, and all the air seems to vanish from the room. Her hands slide up your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair, and before you can think, you’re kissing her back, your hands gripping her waist like she’s the only thing keeping you anchored.

When you finally break apart, her lips are swollen, her breath hitching as she looks at you like you’ve just answered a question she’s been too afraid to ask.

“This is so fucking stupid,” you whisper, but you’re already leaning in again, your lips finding hers as the tension between you snaps like a live wire. She climbs onto your lap, her thighs pressing against you, and you don’t even care that you’re both still drunk. The couch groans under your combined weight, but neither of you notice, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“We should—bed—” you manage to mumble between kisses, and she nods, her lips trailing down your jaw.

Somehow, you make it to the bedroom, the clothes leaving a haphazard trail in the hallway and inside your room. By the time you hit the mattress, both already naked, it’s not just excitement buzzing through you—it’s the quiet, electric realization that this is happening, and there’s no turning back.

The bed creaks beneath you both, the springs protesting as Hanni sprawls out on her back, looking up at you with a mix of hazy confidence and nervous vulnerability. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a wild mess against your pillow, and she’s biting her lip so hard you’re half afraid she’ll draw blood. You hover over her, your hands on either side of her, just taking her in for a moment. This is Hanni—your best friend, your partner in crime—and right now, she looks like a fucking dream, her legs parted slightly, the curve of her hips begging for attention.

“You’re staring,” she says, voice low but teasing, and she reaches up, cupping your jaw with one hand. Her fingers are warm, soft, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I know I’m hot, but damn.”

You laugh, short and breathless, shaking your head. “Fuck off, Hanni. You’re not gonna ruin this by talking shit.”

“Oh, I’m totally gonna talk shit,” she replies, her grin sharp but faltering slightly when you dip your head, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss is slower this time, deeper, and when you nip at her bottom lip, she gasps into your mouth, her hips shifting beneath you.

Your hand finds her side. Her skin’s soft and warm, and when your palm grazes the swell of her breast, she lets out this soft, needy sound that goes straight to your cock

“God, you’re so fucking impatient,” you murmur against her lips, but your tone’s more affectionate than mocking. Your hand slides down, over her tummy, then you pause, your fingers resting just above where you know she’s burning for you.

“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a moment, you think she’s gonna back out, but then she smirks. “Don’t fucking tease me.”

“Well, now I have to,” you say, rubbing your fingers on her mon pubis.

“Asshole,” she breathes, but her words catch in her throat when your fingers find her slick folds. She’s soaked, and the realization sends a rush of heat through you. “Oh, fuck—”

“Shit, Hanni,” you say, your voice rough with a mix of awe and lust. “You’re fucking dripping.”

Her laugh is shaky, more like a breathy moan. “Yeah, well…you’re taking your sweet ass time about it.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you reply, but your fingers are already sliding lower, brushing over her clit. The reaction is immediate—her body jerks, her hips pressing up into your hand as a strangled moan escapes her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her words tumbling out as your fingers circle her clit, slow and deliberate. “Just like that—oh, god, yeah, like th—oh fuck!”

Her voice cuts off as you slide one finger into her, her walls clenching around you like a vice. You add another finger, curling them slightly, and the noise she makes is obscene—half a gasp, half a moan, her head tipping back against the pillow.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you say, your voice low and rough. “How the fuck are you this tight?”

“Shut up,” she groans, but there’s no real bite to her words. Her hands grip the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping her grounded as you start moving, your fingers pumping into her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips roll against your hand, desperate and needy, and when your thumb brushes her clit again, she practically cries out. “Oh my god—yes—just like that—fuck!”

“Yeah?” you ask, grinning as you lean down, your lips grazing her ear. “You like that, Hanni? You like the way I’m fucking you with my fingers?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—” she gasps, her voice breaking as her body arches off the bed. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking dare—”

Her words dissolve into moans as you pick up the pace, your fingers fucking her harder, faster. You can feel her tightening around you, her breath hitching, her entire body trembling as she teeters on the edge.

“Come on, Hanni,” you murmur, your lips brushing her temple. “Let go for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my fingers.”

Her response is incoherent—a garbled mix of your name and curses—but then she’s coming apart, her back arching, her thighs trembling as her pussy clenches around your fingers. Her moan is long and guttural, her hands flying to your shoulders as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.

“Fuck—fuck, oh my god—” she pants, her chest heaving as she comes down, her body still shivering under your touch. You don’t stop, not yet, your fingers slowing but staying inside her, coaxing out every last aftershock.

When you finally pull your hand away, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at you with a dazed, fucked-out expression that makes your chest tighten.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, her voice shaky. “That was…”

You smirk, leaning down to kiss her, your lips brushing hers lightly. “We’re not done yet.”

Before she can respond, you slide down the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. You press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, your hands spreading her open, and she gasps, her hands flying to your hair as your tongue flicks over her sensitive clit, licking through the mess she’s left behind—sweet, sticky, and fucking intoxicating. Hanni’s trembling beneath you, her thighs twitching every time your tongue grazes her clit. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to sting, and you can’t tell if she’s trying to push you away or keep you there forever.

“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” she gasps, her voice breathy and half-wrecked, like she’s been screaming at a concert all night. “I’m—oh god—s-sensitive—”

You pull back slightly, grinning against her skin. “Yeah? Sensitive, huh? You’re the one who keeps pulling me closer.”

“Shut up,” she snaps, but her words falter when you press your tongue flat against her, slow and wet, dragging it from her entrance to her clit. Her body jolts, a sharp inhale cutting her off. “Oh fuck—stop talking and just—”

“What? Just this?” you interrupt, sucking her clit into your mouth, your fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place when she tries to squirm away. Her reaction is immediate—her back arches off the mattress, her head tossing back against the pillow.

“FUCK—yes, like that—oh my god, just like that—” she chokes out, her voice rising and falling with every flick of your tongue.

You pull back just enough to murmur, “You taste so fucking good, Hanni. I could eat you all night.”

She groans, throwing an arm over her face, her voice a mix of exasperation and raw need. “You’re such a goddamn showoff.”

“And you love it,” you reply, sliding your tongue back inside her, savoring the way she clenches around it. The cream left behind from her last orgasm coats your lips, and you lap at it like a man starving, dragging out every broken moan she gives you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stammers, her hands gripping your hair like a lifeline. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

You pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at her. “Gonna what? Cum again? Already?”

Her glare is half-hearted, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re dripping,” you shoot back, crawling up her body until your face is hovering over hers. You kiss her, slow and dirty, letting her taste herself on your lips. When you pull back, her eyes flicker down between your bodies, and her breath hitches.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, and you follow her gaze to where your cock is pressed against her stomach, hard and heavy. “That’s…uh…”

“What?” you ask, smirking. “Bigger than you expected?”

She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing as her eyes dart back to your face. “I mean—yeah, kinda.”

You laugh, the sound low and rough as you reach down, guiding her onto her hands and knees. “Don’t worry. You’ll take it.”

She lets out a nervous laugh, glancing over her shoulder at you as you position yourself behind her. “Confident much?”

“You’ll see,” you say, running the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her just enough to make her hips jerk back toward you. “Fuck, Hanni, you’re so wet. You’re gonna take me so good.”

Her response is a shaky moan, her hands gripping the sheets as you push inside her, slow and steady. The stretch is immediate, her body tightening around you like a vice, and you grit your teeth, fighting to keep control.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice high and breathless. “Oh fuck—you’re—fuck, you’re huge—”

“Yeah?” you say, gripping her hips as you sink deeper, inch by inch. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes—don’t stop—” she groans, her head dropping forward as you bottom out, your hips flush against her ass. You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust, your hands smoothing over her waist, her back, the curve of her ass.

“You look so fucking good like this,” you murmur, giving her ass a firm squeeze. “All spread out for me.”

She lets out a soft laugh, glancing back at you with a dazed smirk. “You’re so full of yourself.”

You don’t bother replying, instead pulling back and snapping your hips forward, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Her gasp turns into a cry, her body rocking forward with the force of your thrust.

“Fuck—yes, just like that—” she moans, her voice muffled as her face presses into the pillow. You pick up the pace, your grip on her hips tightening as you fuck her harder, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you.

You raise one hand, bringing it down on her ass with a sharp slap. The sound echoes in the room, and she cries out, her walls tightening around you. “Shit—you like that?” you ask, spanking her again, harder this time.

“Fuck—yes—do it again—” she pants, her voice ragged. You oblige, your hand coming down on her ass until it’s red and warm under your palm. She’s a mess beneath you, moaning and writhing, her body arching every time you spank her.

Your grip tightens on Hanni’s hips as you feel her starting to unravel. Her moans spill out in frantic, breathy bursts, her voice trembling under the pressure of everything building inside her. She’s trying to keep her balance, her arms shaking as she holds herself up, but you’re not making it easy. Every thrust has her lurching forward, her ass bouncing back to meet you, her body completely giving in to the rhythm you’ve set.

“Shit—fuck—oh my god, I’m so close,” she stammers, her voice climbing higher, more desperate with every word. Her hands claw at the sheets, bunching the fabric into her fists as you slam into her again, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.

“Come on, Hanni,” you growl, your breath hot against the sweat-slicked curve of her back. Your hand dips between her legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it in sync with your thrusts. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you?”

“Yes—oh god, yes,” she cries out, her voice cracking as her hips buck against your hand. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

You don’t. You keep your pace steady, unrelenting, the wet sounds of her slick pussy growing louder, more obscene, until finally, she snaps. Her whole body locks up, her head tossing back as a scream tears out of her throat, raw and broken.

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her thighs trembling violently as her orgasm rips through her, wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure. Her walls clench around you like a vice, trying to pull you deeper, but you hold still, grinding into her just enough to prolong her high. Her moans turn into whimpers, then gasps, her body sagging forward as she rides out the aftershocks.

When she finally collapses, her chest heaving against the mattress, you can’t help but grin. “Oh Hanni,” you murmur, sliding out of her slowly, your cock still hard and aching, slick with her arousal. “You looked so fucking good just now.”

She turns her head, her hair sticking to her flushed, sweaty face as she glares at you halfheartedly. “Shut up,” she mutters, but her voice is shaky, her body still twitching with the remnants of her orgasm.

“Nah, I mean it,” you say, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “You’re fucking perfect like this.”

Her response is a muffled groan into the pillow, and you laugh, flipping her onto her back before she can complain. Her legs fall open instinctively, and the sight of her laid out beneath you—skin flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly—makes your cock twitch.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you murmur, positioning yourself between her legs. Your hands slide up her thighs, pushing them further apart as you line yourself up with her entrance. She looks up at you, her lips parted, her eyes hazy but full of something that goes deeper than just lust.

“God, you’re so fucking cheesy,” she whispers, but there’s no bite to her words. If anything, she looks…soft. Open. Like she’s waiting for something only you can give her.

You push into her slowly, watching her face as you fill her inch by inch. Her lips fall open, a soft gasp escaping her as her body stretches to accommodate you. “Oh fuck,” she breathes, her hands coming up to clutch at your shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re—fuck, you’re so deep—”

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice rough as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “Feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” she moans, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you closer. “God, you feel so fucking good—”

You start moving, your thrusts slow and deliberate, dragging your cock out almost all the way before slamming back into her. Her head tips back, her nails digging into your shoulders as she moans unabashedly, her voice filling the room. “Yes—fuck, just like that—”

You lean down, bracing yourself on your forearms so you’re hovering over her. Your lips find hers, swallowing her cries as you pick up the pace, your hips snapping against hers harder, faster. She breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, her hands sliding into your hair to tug you closer.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding. Her eyes meet yours, wide and shining, and the vulnerability in her expression makes your cock throbs. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

You freeze for a second, but the way she’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth—it's enough to drive you crazy. “Hanni,” you murmur, your voice breaking as you start moving again, slower this time, each thrust deep and deliberate. “Fuck, I love you too.”

Her breath hitches, and she pulls you down into another kiss, her legs tightening around you as if she’s trying to fuse your bodies together. “Don’t stop,” she whispers against your lips. “Don’t ever stop.”

"I won't," you groan, your cock throbbing inside her tight, wet pussy as you grind deep. Her walls flutter around you with each slow, deliberate thrust, and you can feel how close she is to cumming. You press your forehead against hers, maintaining eye contact as you fuck her with long, measured strokes.

"You feel so good wrapped around my cock," you tell her, your voice rough with emotion. "So fucking perfect, Hanni. Love how wet you get for me."

She whimpers, her nails digging into your shoulders as her hips buck up to meet yours. "Only for you," she gasps. "Nobody's ever made me this wet before."

The admission makes your cock twitch, and you reward her with a particularly deep thrust that has her crying out. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So good," she moans, her pussy clenching around you. "Your cock fills me up perfectly. Feels like you were made for me."

You kiss her hard, swallowing her moans as you pick up the pace slightly. Your tongue slides against hers as you fuck her deeper, harder, but still maintaining that intimate connection. Her tits press against your chest with each thrust, her hard nipples dragging against your skin.

"Love these perfect tits," you growl, breaking the kiss to trail your lips down her neck. You suck hard enough to leave marks, wanting everyone to know she's yours. "I love how they bounce while I fuck you, how they get so hard for me."

Hanni arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against you. "Please," she whimpers. "Touch them, suck on them, anything!"

You shift your weight to one arm so you can cup one of her tits, rolling the nipple between your fingers as you continue to thrust. "Like this, baby? Like having your tits played with while I fuck your tight little pussy?"

"Yes!" she cries out, her walls clamping down around you. "Fuck, I'm getting close!"

"That's it," you encourage her, lowering your head to take her other nipple into your mouth. You suck hard while still pinching and rolling the other one, your cock never stopping its steady rhythm inside her. "Want to feel you cum all over my cock. Want to feel how tight that pussy gets when you lose control."

Her hands slide into your hair, holding you against her breast as you continue to suck and nibble at her sensitive flesh. "Oh god, oh fuck," she pants, her thighs trembling where they're wrapped around your waist. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You release her nipple with a wet pop, looking up to meet her eyes again. "Never stopping, baby. Gonna keep fucking this sweet pussy until you can't take it anymore." You punctuate your words with a particularly deep thrust that has her seeing stars.

"Love watching you fall apart on my cock," you continue, your voice rough with desire. "Love feeling your pussy get wetter and tighter with each thrust. You gonna cum for me, Hanni? Gonna show me how good I make you feel?"

She nods frantically, her eyes glazed with pleasure as she stares up at you. "So close," she whimpers. "Just a little more, please!"

You shift slightly, changing the angle of your thrusts so your cock drags against her g-spot with each stroke. At the same time, you slide your hand between your bodies to find her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud.

"Fuck!" she screams, her back arching off the bed. "Right there, right fucking there!"

"Yeah? This what you need, baby?" You keep the pressure steady on her clit as you continue to pound into her g-spot. "Love how your pussy's gripping me right now. Can feel how close you are to cumming."

Her nails rake down your back as she writhes beneath you, chasing her orgasm. "Please," she begs. "Make me cum again, please make me cum!"

You lean down to whisper in her ear, your voice low and rough. "Cum for me, Hanni. Show me how good my cock makes you feel. Want to feel that tight little pussy squeeze me while you cream all over my dick."

That does it. With a sharp cry of your name, Hanni's orgasm crashes over her. Her pussy clamps down around you like a vice as she cums, her whole body shaking with the force of her release. You can feel her cream gushing around your cock, making everything even wetter and slicker as you continue to fuck her through it.

"That's it, baby," you groan, fighting against your own need to cum as her walls milk your cock. "Fuck, you look so beautiful when you cum. Love watching you lose control like this."

She's babbling incoherently now, a stream of "fuck" and "yes" and your name falling from her lips as her orgasm continues to roll through her. Her pussy is practically convulsing around your cock, making it incredibly difficult to hold back your own release.

But you manage, wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. You stay buried inside her for what feels like forever, your bodies pressed together, sweat mingling, her legs still wrapped tightly around your waist. Hanni’s breathing slows gradually, her chest rising and falling against yours as her trembling subsides. You brush her hair out of her face, tucking the damp strands behind her ear, and she gives you this sleepy, satisfied grin that makes your chest ache.

“You’re gonna ruin me, baby,” she mutters, her voice soft and teasing, her fingers trailing lazily over your back.

You chuckle, nipping at her jawline. “Pretty sure I already did that.”

“Shut up,” she murmurs, but there’s no heat to it. She shifts slightly, wincing when your cock twitches inside her, still rock hard. “Jesus, are you still ready to go?”

“Can’t help it,” you reply, smirking as you grind against her, making her gasp. “You’re fucking addictive, Hanni.”

She groans, covering her face with one hand, but when she peeks up at you through her fingers, her eyes are gleaming. “Okay, fine. My turn.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Your turn for what?”

“To make you cum, dumbass.” She pushes at your chest until you roll onto your back, letting her straddle you. Her thighs press against your hips as she sits back, your cock still buried deep inside her. She bites her lip, her hands sliding over your chest. “God, you’re fucking huge. I can feel you all the way in my stomach.”

“Yeah?” you say, your voice rough, your hands finding her waist. “You’re taking me so fucking well, Hanni. You're absolutely perfect.”

“Damn right I am,” she says, smirking as she starts to move, slow and deliberate, rocking her hips in a way that makes your breath catch. “Fuck, you’re so deep…”

She sets a rhythm, her hands braced on your chest, her body rolling against yours with a lazy, drunk confidence. The sight of her above you—hair a mess, lips swollen, her tits bouncing with every move—has you gripping her hips like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Shit, Hanni,” you groan, your head tipping back against the pillow. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

Her laugh is breathy, almost mocking. “Good,” she says, picking up the pace, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. “You deserve it.”

Her movements get sloppier, needier, her breath hitching every time your cock hits that spot inside her. And then, out of nowhere, she starts talking—dirty, raw, and absolutely unhinged.

“God, I can feel you so fucking deep,” she moans. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that? You’re gonna fuck me so full I won’t even be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” you hiss, her words going straight to your cock, making you buck up into her. “Keep talking, baby. Fucking say it.”

With your request, Hanni rides you with a desperation that feels almost animalistic, her hips slamming down onto yours like she’s trying to bury you even deeper inside her. Every bounce makes her tits jiggle, her nails scraping against your chest, leaving angry red trails that sting just enough to keep you tethered to reality. But just barely. You’re so drunk, so fucking drunk, that every sensation feels magnified, her heat, her tightness, the wet sounds of her cunt taking you over and over—it’s all you can focus on.

“Fuck—oh fuck—you’re so fucking deep,” she continues, her voice raw and slurred, her head tipping back as she grinds against you, her clit brushing against the base of your cock. “I really can feel you in my fucking stomach—god, you’re ruining me—”

You groan, your hands glued to her waist, guiding her movements as she slams down onto you again and again. “You’re so fucking tight, Hanni. I can barely move—you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”

Her moans grow louder, more frantic, and when she leans forward, her lips grazing your ear, her voice drops to a sultry whisper that shoots straight through you like lightning. “You’re gonna cum inside me, aren’t you?”

Your breath catches, your hands tightening on her hips. “What?”

“You’re gonna fucking fill me up,” she says, her teeth nipping at your earlobe. “I can feel you, baby—you’re so fucking close. I want it. God, I need it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hanni—” Your head falls back against the pillow, your grip on her hips almost bruising now as she speeds up, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a reply, because all you can hear, all you can feel, is her.

“I want you to breed me,” she breathes, her words spilling out like she doesn’t even care how insane they sound. “I want you to fill me so fucking full I can feel you leaking out of me for days.”

You choke on a groan, your hips bucking up into her so hard it makes her gasp, her nails dragging down your chest. “Fuck, Hanni—you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

“And it's all your fault,” she shoots back, her voice dripping with lust as she smirks down at you. “You know you drive me crazy and still insist on teasing me. Tell me the truth: you’ve been dying to cum inside me all night, haven’t you?”

“Shit—” Your voice cracks as she grinds her hips in slow, teasing circles, her walls fluttering around you like she knows exactly what she’s doing. “You’re fucking insane.”

She leans down, her hands braced on either side of your head, her breath hot against your face. “Maybe,” she whispers, her voice trembling but full of wicked intent. “But you’re gonna give me what I want, aren’t you?”

Her lips crash against yours before you can answer, swallowing your groan as she slams down onto you again, her movements frantic and unrelenting. The angle shifts just enough to make your cock hit that perfect spot inside her, and she breaks the kiss with a scream, her body convulsing as she clings to you.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck yes—just like that,” she babbles, her words spilling out in a breathless rush. “You’re so deep, so fucking deep—I want it, baby, I want you to cum inside me. Please—fuck—please, I need it.”

Her pleading sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your control unraveling, your body tensing as the pressure builds, white-hot and unbearable. “Shit, Hanni—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m so close—”

"Yes, yes, fucking breed me!" she begs, voice breaking as she slams herself down harder. "Fill this tight pussy up with your hot fucking cum. I need you to knock me up so bad. Pump that thick cum deep in my womb!"

Her dirty talk drives you wild. Your hands grip her waist, helping lift and drop her onto your throbbing shaft. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, making obscene wet sounds each time she takes you to the hilt. The way her walls grip and massage your cock has your eyes rolling back.

"Gonna cum," you grunt, feeling your balls tighten. "Gonna flood that tight pussy."

"Do it! Fucking do it!" She starts grinding and circling her hips, stimulating every sensitive spot. "Give me every last drop. Want your cum dripping out of me for days!"

Your orgasm hits like a tsunami. Your cock pulses violently as you start shooting thick ropes of hot cum deep inside her. But she doesn't stop - if anything she fucks you harder, determined to milk out every single drop.

"Oh fuuuuck!" you moan as she keeps bouncing through your orgasm. The stimulation is almost too much on your sensitive cock but she won't let up. Her pussy walls contract rhythmically, literally sucking the cum out of you.

"I can feel it," she pants, eyes glazed with lust. "So much hot cum filling me up. Keep cumming for me, baby. Give me more!"

The continued stimulation has you seeing stars. Your cock is so sensitive it almost hurts but the pleasure is mind-blowing. She grinds down hard, working her hips in circles as she milks out another surge of cum.

"Such a good boy," she purrs. "Giving me all that potent cum. Gonna put a baby in me with all this hot fucking seed."

Your whole body trembles as she continues riding. More cum spurts out with each bounce, making wet squelching sounds as it mixes with her juices. She's absolutely relentless, using your cock like her personal cum extraction tool.

"Please," you gasp, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. "Fuck, Hanni!"

"Just a little more," she moans, her movements getting erratic. "Want every last drop inside me. Need all your cum breeding my tight little pussy!"

Your eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through you, smaller but just as intense. She cries out in triumph as she feels the fresh surge of cum, her own orgasm making her pussy convulse around your oversensitive cock.

"Fuck yes! Breed me, breed me, breed meeee!" She collapses onto your chest, still grinding slowly. "So much cum... You give me so much cum, baby… can feel it so deep..."

Your cock gives a few final weak pulses, completely drained. She finally stills but keeps you trapped inside her, her pussy occasionally squeezing as if trying to coax out any remaining drops.

"Mmm, your cum is so hot, baby," she sighs contentedly. "Filled me up so perfectly. Gonna keep all this hot cum inside me until it takes."

You can only lie there panting as she nuzzles your neck, your thoroughly milked cock still twitching inside her cum-flooded pussy.

You wrap your arms around her, holding her close, and for a long moment, neither of you says anything. The room is silent except for the faint hum of the city outside and the sound of your uneven breathing. Everything feels still, heavy, like the world just stopped to let you exist like this.

Then Hanni snorts.

It starts quiet, just a soft huff against your chest, but it builds quickly, bubbling up until she’s full-on giggling like a kid who just got caught doing something stupid. It’s contagious. You’re laughing too, your head tipping back into the pillow, your chest shaking beneath her.

“What the fuck are we even laughing at?” you wheeze, running a hand through her damp hair as her giggles turn into full-blown cackles.

“I don’t know!” she gasps, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. “I think—I think it’s just—holy shit, we actually did that.”

You grin, wiping at her face with the pad of your thumb. “Yeah, we fucking did. And now I can’t feel my legs, so thanks for that.”

“Don’t even,” she shoots back, propping her chin on your chest and glaring at you playfully. “You’re the one who fucked me so hard I saw stars.”

“Yeah? You’re welcome, then.” You wink at her, and she groans, burying her face in your chest again, her laughter muffled against your skin.

When she finally calms down, she tilts her head up to look at you, her expression softening. “Hey,” she says quietly, her fingers brushing over your jawline. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, you know. I love you.”

Her words hit you like a sucker punch, but not in a bad way. It’s more like someone just flipped a switch inside you, lighting up every dark, unspoken corner of your heart. “Fuck,” you murmur. “I love you too, Hanni.”

She beams, her smile so wide and genuine it almost makes you forget how fucking trashed you both are. “That was—shit, that was the best sex of my life,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Like, no contest. Hall of Fame level.”

You snort. “Same. And that’s saying something, because I once hooked up with this girl who—”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence,” she interrupts, smacking your chest lightly. “Don’t ruin the moment!”

“Fine, fine,” you say, grinning as you squeeze her waist. “Moment un-ruined. But seriously, you were fucking amazing.”

She smirks, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Duh. I know that already.”

“God, you’re impossible,” you mutter, but your smile doesn’t falter.

She yawns suddenly, the sound soft and innocent, and you raise an eyebrow. “You good? Wanna hop in the shower or something before we crash?”

Her nose wrinkles immediately, and she shakes her head. “Fuck that. I’m not moving an inch. We can sleep like this—sweaty, sticky, whatever. I don’t give a shit.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you pull her closer, tucking her against your side. “You’re such a goddamn gremlin.”

“Aaand-youuu-loveee-it,” she mumbles, already half-asleep, her voice muffled against your chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand running up and down her back. “I fucking do.”

Then, finally, the alcohol and exhaustion hit you both like a fucking truck, pulling you under faster than you expect. You drift off together, her body warm and soft against yours, her breath slow and steady in your ear. It’s messy and stupid and probably the worst decision you’ve ever made, but for now, it feels like the best thing in the world. You fall asleep like two reckless, drunk kids who don’t know any better, and for a little while, everything feels perfect.

—

It's like the first morning in purgatory.

You stir first, the throbbing in your skull dragging you out of unconsciousness. Your mouth is dry, your limbs heavy, and every movement feels like wading through molasses. You blink against the pale light leaking through the blinds, your vision blurry, the pounding in your head relentless. Beside you, Hanni lets out a soft groan, still half-buried in the covers, her hair a wild mess against the pillow.

“Fuck…” you croak, your voice rough as sandpaper. “What the hell happened?”

Hanni stirs, her face scrunching up in discomfort. “Why does my brain feel like it’s on fire?” she mutters, her words muffled against the pillow. She shifts slightly, the sheet slipping down to reveal bare shoulders. “Wait—”

She freezes.

Your eyes snap fully open, the fog in your head clearing just enough to process what you’re seeing. Hanni’s eyes go wide, darting between your face and the sheet draped haphazardly over your waist. “Why the fuck are we naked?” she asks, her voice pitching higher, panic seeping into her tone.

You wince, the sound drilling into your already aching skull. “I—uh—” You glance down, seeing your bare chest, then feel the cool air against your equally bare ass under the sheets. “Shit.”

Her hands fly to her own chest, clutching the blanket against herself as if that’ll undo whatever the fuck happened. “Did we…? Oh my god, did we fuck?”

You sit up slowly, your head spinning. “I don’t know! I mean…” Your brow furrows as fragmented memories start piecing themselves together. Her riding you, her breathless moans, the way she begged—fuck, fuck, fuck. “Okay, maybe. Yeah, probably.”

“Probably?” she snaps, sitting up too quickly and clutching her head. “Fuck, my brain feels like it’s gonna split in half. Okay, but like—wait.” Her voice falters, her panic mounting as her eyes search your face. “Did you—did you, uh, cum inside me?”

You freeze, the question hitting you like a brick to the face. “What?” you ask, stalling for time as your headache roars back to life. “I don’t…fuck, I don’t remember. I was so wasted—”

“Oh my god,” she interrupts, her voice trembling as she throws off the covers and sits back on her heels, her hands flying between her legs. She winces, her fingers brushing something sticky, and when she pulls them back, her face goes pale. “Oh my fucking god. I can feel it. It’s—it’s dry—holy shit, you really came inside me!”

Your stomach twists violently as the memories come flooding back—the heat of her body, the way she clung to you, the way you spilled into her so deeply it felt like you’d never come back up for air. “Shit,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. “Okay. Fuck. Yeah, that…definitely happened.”

“On Christmas?” she nearly shrieks, clutching the sheet around herself like it’s some kind of moral shield. “You knocked me up on fucking Christmas? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up!” you say, raising your hands defensively. “First of all, technically it was on Christmas Eve. Hmm, although there is a big chance it could have happened after midnight, I think we got here pretty late…” Hanni looks at you as if contemplating the idea of committing murder. “Oh, second and most importantly, nobody’s knocked up yet. It doesn’t happen that fast!”

“Yeah, but you fucking came inside me!” she shoots back, her voice a wild mix of fury and panic. “What the hell were we thinking? Why the fuck didn’t we use a condom?!”

“I don’t know, Hanni! We were drunk off our asses! I barely even remember half of last night!” You gesture vaguely at the room, at the scattered clothes and the bed completely messed up. “I mean, look at this shit. Does this look like the scene of responsible decision-making?”

She glares at you, her hands still clutching the sheet tightly. “Okay, well, what the fuck do we do now? The pharmacies are probably closed. It’s Christmas! Do you think there’s some magical 24/7 Plan B hotline we can call? Hey, Santa, got any emergency contraceptives in that bag of yours?”

Her sarcasm slices through the tension, and despite the mounting panic, you can’t help but laugh—a short, bitter sound. “Yeah, let’s just write to the fucking North Pole. ‘Dear Santa, I was very naughty last night. Please send condoms and a time machine.’”

She doesn’t laugh. She’s too busy pacing now, muttering under her breath as she tries to piece together a plan. “Okay, okay, maybe there’s a convenience store open somewhere. Or—fuck, do I know someone who could have contraceptives? No, that’s stupid—god, I’m so fucking stupid—”

Hanni moves like a whirlwind, her body tense and her face set as she grabs her scattered clothes off your bedroom and hallway floor. She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t even glance in your direction as she yanks her sweater over her head and hops into her underwear with sharp, jerky movements. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheet pooling around your waist, watching her with growing agony.

“Hanni, will you just fucking stop for a second?” you say, your voice low but urgent. “We need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” she snaps, still not looking at you as she grabs her jeans. “About how we were too drunk and stupid to use protection? About how I might have a goddamn Christmas baby on the way? Yeah, sounds like a super fun conversation.”

You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face. “Come on, don’t do this. We can figure it out together—”

“There’s nothing to figure out!” she interrupts, finally turning to face you, her expression a volatile mix of anger and panic. “I’m going home. I need—I just need to think. Alone.”

“Alone?” you repeat, standing up, the sheet slipping off your waist. “You’re seriously just gonna leave? What if you—”

“I’ll find a pharmacy,” she says quickly, cutting you off again. “I’ll take care of it. I just… I can’t fucking deal with this right now, okay?”

“Hanni, please,” you say, stepping closer, reaching out to grab her arm. “Don’t shut me out. I—fuck, I care about you. We’ll get through this together.”

She pulls her arm out of your grip, her jaw tight. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up pregnant. You’re not the one who has to wonder how the fuck you got here with your best friend.”

This unsettles you for a moment, but before you can reply, she’s already slipping on her jacket, her hand on the doorknob. “Hanni,” you say again, softer this time, your voice almost pleading. “Stay. Please.”

She pauses, just for a second, her shoulders slumping. But then she shakes her head, her voice nothing but a whisper. “I can’t.”

And with that, she’s gone, leaving you standing in the doorway, naked, hungover, and completely fucking lost.

—

The next few weeks are a blur of radio silence and vague, clipped texts that feel more like placeholders than actual communication. Hanni texts you the morning after to say she found a pharmacy that was miraculously open on Christmas and took the pill, but that’s it. No follow-ups, no calls, just short, impersonal messages that feel like they’re written by a stranger.

You spend every day alternating between guilt, panic, and a weird, gnawing ache you can’t quite name. Every time your phone buzzes, your heart races, hoping it’s her. Half the time it’s not, and the other half it’s just more of the same: I’m fine. Just busy. Talk later.

When “later” finally comes, it’s weeks down the line. You’re sitting on your couch, staring blankly at some shitty Netflix movie you’re not even watching, when your phone rings. The sight of Hanni’s name on the screen jolts you upright, your heart pounding as you fumble to answer.

“Hanni,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “Hey. What’s—what’s up?”

There’s a pause, and then her voice comes through, soft and hesitant. “I got my period.”

Relief floods through you so fast it almost knocks you over. “Oh, thank fuck,” you mutter, leaning back into the couch, your head tipping back against the cushions. “That’s—that’s fucking great news.”

“Yeah,” she says, but there’s no relief in her tone. Just exhaustion. “It is.”

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you like a storm cloud. Finally, you clear your throat. “Can I see you? Maybe we could grab coffee or something, just talk. I miss you, Hanni.”

She sighs, long and heavy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What…? Why not?”

“Because,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “Because I’ve spent the last few weeks losing my mind, thinking about what might have happened, what did happen. I’ve been trying to figure out how the fuck we ended up here, and I still don’t have an answer.”

“We ended up here because we were drunk and stupid,” you say quickly, your words spilling out like a defense mechanism. “But that doesn’t mean—”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake?” she interrupts, her tone sharper now. “Because that’s what I keep asking myself. Was this a mistake? Did we ruin everything for one fucking night of drunken stupidity?”

“Hanni,” you say, your voice low and steady. “It wasn’t just one night. Don’t pretend like you don’t feel something—”

“Of course I feel something!” she snaps, cutting you off. “That’s the fucking problem! I can’t stop thinking about it—about you. About your hands, your body, your mouth, your fucking cock. And that’s why I can’t see you right now, because if I do…” She trails off, her breath hitching.

“Because if you do, what?” you press, your chest tight.

“Because if I do, it’s gonna happen again,” she says, her voice trembling. “And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if it’s just gonna destroy everything we had.”

“We’ve already fucked up everything we had, Hanni,” you say quietly. “The question is whether we’re gonna fix it or just throw it all away.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, bitter and broken. “I don’t know if it can be fixed. I don’t even know what it is anymore.”

“So what?” you say, your voice rising slightly. “You’re just gonna ghost me? Walk away from everything we’ve built?”

“I’m not walking away,” she says softly. “I just… I need time. To figure out what I want, what we are, what we could be. I need to get over this before I see you again. Because if I don’t…”

“I thought you loved me... I mean, you said that to me that night.”

“I wasn't ready, you understand? Not really. This wasn't how I wanted it to happen… our first time, the confession of my feelings… I just…”

She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to. The weight of her words hangs heavy in the silence, suffocating you.

“When will I see you?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” she replies, her voice cracking. “I really don’t.”

“Hann—”

The line cuts out, and you’re left holding the phone, staring at her name disappearing from the screen. The movie’s still playing, but it might as well not be.

You drop the phone, lean back, and close your eyes. Outside, the world moves on, but inside, it’s just silence—heavy, empty, and endless.

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orcasoul · 1 day ago

Text

The Plus One

Summery: You and Pedro have been in a relationship for a while but for some reason he'd stopped inviting you to social events. Has he grown tired of you...?

Warnings: swearing, angst (because I liiive for it!), mental health issues, low self esteem from reader, caring Pedro, fluff, use of Y/N.

This is inspired by the video of Pedro dancing his arse off at Sarah Paulsons 50th birthday party. God bless this man for randomly inspiring us when he's not even trying to lol.

Word Count: 3,516

It's a quiet evening at home. The living room fireplace is softy blazing, the crackling red and orange flames along with the Christmas tree lights and low lamp light bathes the room in a reposeful ambience. You're snuggled up on the settee in your favourite fluffy Oodie, sipping a hot chocolate as you finish reading a Christmas rom com by one of your favourite authors. And while this is something that usually helps you to unwind at the end of the day, you can't seem to shift that gutting feeling deep down in your stomach. You should have been with Pedro tonight at Sarah's party instead of here alone. With the book finished you're about to check Kindle for your next read but before opening the app, you'd decided to check your notifications on facebook.

Now you wish you hadn't. Of course the first thing to pop up would be a video of Pedro having the time of his life at the party. Not that that is the real issue here. You're not the controlling or possessive type who wants to keep their partner all for yourself and deny them any kind of social life; quite the opposit, in fact. The thing that really hurts, that makes your heart physically ache is that you're never included in Pedro's social events anymore. You would have loved to have been his date to Sarah's party and make memories with him like normal couples do. You've met Sarah on several occasions and the two of you had always got along really well, so why would he rather go alone than bring you?

You've been together for six months now, so it's not like you're in the early stages where you're both yet to meet the others' family and friends. It just doesn't make sense. You had attended a few ceremonies and promotional events for Pedro's movies with him before now and even though they had been quite intense environments to be in, you were just thrilled to be there with him, to support him and show the world how proud you are of him. And you'd like to think that you were adept at hiding the effects that your social anxiety had on you during these occasions. You'd smile, engage in chit chat and if it became too overwhelming you'd always secretly resort to your special coping technique to calm your nerves; stroking slow circles on the palm of your hand.

But it had been months since you'd last attended any events with him and as time goes on it just hurts more and more. You'd hoped time would have made it easier to accept, but truthfully it makes you feel abandoned, insignificant, like you don't belong in his world. Is that it? Is he embarrassed by you? It's true you're both from very different worlds, having met through friends of friends and not through working together in the film industry. Sometimes you still can't understand why he'd chose to be with a nobody like you when he could literally have any woman he wanted. As your mind continues to spiral, taking you to dark places, tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

To love him so much, only to feel it's not enough for him to want you around is... soul crushing. You'd been trying for so long to ignore that niggling little voice in the back of your mind; the one telling you that you aren't good enough for him and there has been times when you'd been able to mute it, especially when you're together and he looks at you with pure adoration in his eyes, or the times he would come home to LA between filming, even if it was just for a couple of days to see you or if he couldn't make it he'd fly you out to the set. No matter what he always made time for your relationship, but only out of the public eye. Pedro has always been a private person, especially when it comes to romantic involvements, but it feels like he's trying to hide you.

And now, this latest video has turned that niggling little voice into a full on megaphone, screaming an endless barrage of ugly truths at you; you're not enough for him. He's bored of you. You're an embarrassment, a stone around his neck. It was only a matter of time. You clutch at your chest as your heart shatters into a thousand pieces, sobs wracking your body. It's over! How could you have not seen it sooner?! He doesn't need you in his life. He's bloody Pedro Pascal for heavens' sake.

You were a delusional fool to ever believe you had anything to offer him. Maybe this is his way of subtly telling you it wasn't working for him anymore. Maybe he'd hoped showing you the stark differences between you both would have made you realise it couldn't continue, and being the kind and gentle man he is, he didn't want to outright dump you and hurt you, so this was the best strategy.

Now your sorrow is tinged with anger. If he wanted to end it all this time he damn well should have had the balls to tell you instead of dragging it out. So, it's down to you now; if he won't do it, you'll have to. Your tablet screen is now shining with your tears. You wipe it dry with your sleeve and throw it down beside you, Knidle well and truly forgotton. Fluffing up a cushion, you curl up on the settee while your broken heart mourns and weeps.

As the party came to an end Pedro couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He'd had a great time and wouldn't have missed one of his best friends' milestone birthdays for the world, but he missed you like hell tonight. He especially felt the sting of your absence when he would see couples dancing or sitting together, hand in hand or snuggling up. He feels selfish, but he wishes you could have been here tonight. And not just tonight, but to all his recent public appearances like the premiers for The Wild Robot and Gladiator 2, but he won't put you through that again.

The guilt still eats away at him when he casts his mind back to the last couple of times you'd attended high profile events with him, even low key and private ones where there isn't a constant blinding flash of cameras. He knows of your struggles with your mental health, in particular with social anxiety (something he can absolutely relate to) and even through your obvious facade he could see what the pressure was doing to you, often feeling a slight tremble in your hand while laced with his. He could see the difference between your forced smile and your genuine smile; the one that would make your eyes sparkle and he could lose himself in them completely.

But the worst thing was when you start rubbing the palm of your hand over and over when you'd thought he wasn't watching. He knew then it was all becoming too much for you and that's when he'd decided that he won't be selfish anymore, that he had to prioritise your well being and comfort before his own and if that meant attending ceremonies and large gatherings alone, so be it. Of course, he always felt incomplete without you at his side, but your needs far outweigh his own as far as he's concerned. Knowing he can shield you from even a fraction of discomfort makes the sacrifice worth it.

After slipping into his jacket, Pedro found Sarah at the front door of her house, waving some guests off. Wrapping her in a big hug, he said, "Happy birthday again, sweetie and thanks for inviting me." Sarah returned the hug. "I'm so glad you came, but I missed seeing Y/N tonight. How is she?" Pedro couldn't hold back the grin that broke out across his face at the mention of your name. "She's great. I wanted to bring her tonight, but I think the crowd would have been too much for her." Sarah smiled endearingly at her friend. "You really do love her, don't you?" Pedro chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh no reason..." she smirked. " Only that I've never seen you so smitten and protective over any other woman in all the years I've known you. You've got it bad." Pedro rolled his eyes, playfully. "Yeah, I guess I do." "So, what are you waiting for?" Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you talking about?" Pedro asked, knowing exactly what she meant. "You've been carrying that ring around with you for weeks now and still haven't asked her. What's holding you back?" Pedro shifted uncomfortably, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Just worried about her, that's all. The moment word gets out of an engagement, paparazzi will be circling like vultures. I don't just want her overwhelmed." "I think you underestimate her," Sarah began, "I don't think she'd ever let her anxiety get in the way of being with you. It's obvious how much she loves you. In fact when I'm around you two for too long, the sweetness gives me temporary diabetes." Pedro let out a deep belly laugh at that, drawing one from Sarah in return.

"Just do it..." she urged, gently. "You know she'll say yes." Pedro smiled and nodded, "I know." "Well..." Sarah yawned, "Get out of here. I'm fifty now and need my beauty sleep." She gave Pedro another hug. "So, I'll see you and Y/N for lunch next week?" "Sure," Pedro replied, "Goodnight, sweetie." He waved as he walked to his car. "Night," Sarah called out before closing the door.

Settling in his car, Pedro connected his phone to the car speaker and rang your phone. He promised he'd call after the party to say goodnight and couldn't wait to hear your voice. But as soon as you answered, he knew something was wrong. "Hey baby, everything okay?" he asked, worridly. His worry only increased when you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. "Yeah um... I'm fine." You most definitely aren't fine! "You're a shit liar, you know that?" Pedro says, lightheartedly to help put you at ease. Now his tone turns more serious. "Tell me what's wrong." Silence... "Y/N? You're starting to scare me now." "I told you I'm fine. I'm just... tired." You tried to sound convincing but failed, spectacularly.

"I'm coming over -" "No!" Your abrupt outburst silenced Pedro. You've never turned him away in all the months you've been together. "It's... uh... it's late. You should just get home safe." Pedro sighed. "I know something's wrong and if you won't tell me on the phone I'm coming over." At that, you burst into tears. A pang shot straight through Pedro's heart at the sound of you crying. "Hey, baby, talk to me!" he pled. "What happened?" In between the the sniffling your voice became strained. "I didn't want to do this over the phone." Pedro suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut, not liking the tone of this conversation. "Do what?" he asked, hesitantly. "Its..." sniffle, "It's over."

If Pedro hadn't already been sitting in the car his legs would have given out on him! "W- what?!" he stuttered in disbelief. "What do you mean it's over?!" His hands gripped the steering wheel for support. Where the fuck did this come from all of a sudden?! "Please..." you whispered, sounding mentally drained. "Don't pretend you didn't know this was coming. If you don't want me anymore you should have said something sooner." Pdero jerked his head back, blinking in shock. "What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?" You are full on sobbing now, your words just an unintelligible jumble. "I'm coming over, right now!" "No, please-" "I'm coming over!" he cut you off bluntly and hung up the phone.

His hands shook as he started up the engine and it took all of his willpower to not floor it to your house. Getting pulled over for speeding is the last thing he needs right now. The whole way over, his mind was a frantic mess. What could have happened between the last time he saw you (which was only yesterday) and now? Did he say something? Do something? When he got to your house, he practically flew from the car, his fist pounding on your front door almost as hard as his heart was pounding behind his ribs. "Baby open up, please. I'm not leaving until you talk to me." A few moments later the door cracked open and there you stood, puffy eyed and blotchy faced. Your lips had swollen and your nose shone red from crying.

Pedro could have cried himself from the state you're in. Without a second thought he pushed his way through the door and swept you into his arms, cupping the back of your head to his chest. To his relief, instead of pushing him away, you encircled your arms around his waist, holding him tight. He reached back to close the door behind him, then guided you to the setee, sitting beside you. "Now, what's all this about, hmm? I know this isn't what you really want." You shook your head, a small humourless laugh escaping you. "Of course it's not, but deep down I think it's what you want."

Pedro's forefinger gently tipped your chin up so you were looking into his eyes; big puppy dog eyes filled hurt, confusion and fear. "What I want?" His bottom lip twitched as if he was lost for words. You nod, wiping your cheeks. "W- why would you ever think something like that, sweetheart?" Pedro's shocked expression now has you doubting yourself. Were you wrong? But how could you be? For a while, you've been trying to ignore the feeling that he was slipping away but looking at him now... It's like he'd never even entertained the idea of leaving you. All this uncertainty is giving you whiplash and you can't hold it in anymore. You need to get everything off your chest.

"I..." you trail off as you feel more tears gathering, ready to pour out along with all your insecurities. "...I feel like you don't want me around anymore..." you begin, chest shuddering with nerves and hiccups. "You never invite me to anything, whether it's to do with your public life or even your social life. I'm never included like a partner should be. I need you to be honest... Are you ashamed of me? Because sometimes I feel like you don't want to be seen with me and that you've been pulling away..." You're rambling now, but you just can't stop. "I know I'm not on the same level as you and there are so many beautiful women out there throwing themselves at your feet. Maybe I don't belong in your world. Maybe I'm not enough for you-" Pedro's hands on either side of your face stops your self deprecating tirade.

"Baby, don't you ever put yourself down like that again, you hear me?" You're shocked to see Pedro's cheeks are now wet too. "I'm sorry. Fucking hell! I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I thought I was protecting you this whole time." "Protecting me?" you ask in bewilderment. Pedro gave you a sad smile. "I Know from years of experience that being in the spotlight is tough. It can be draining and I could see how hard it was for you." Pedro took one of your hands and turned it over, rubbing slow circles into your palm. When you realised what he meant by that action, he nodded and kissed your forehead.

"I know you tried to hide it from me, but I noticed every time." "I'm sorry," you mumbled, shame burning your cheeks. "No." Pedro squeezed your hand. "You never apologise for that. I'm the one who's sorry. I was afraid if I mentioned it, you deny it for my sake, so I stopped asking you to come with me thinking it was the best thing for you." Pedro exhaled and your heart ached for him, seeing the guilt and remorse crushing him. "I didn't think it would have looked like I never want you around, 'cause the truth is I miss you, EVERY GODDAMN TIME I have to attend these things without you. I want you with me, now and forever. I'll tell you what..." he looked to be carefully considering his next words. "if you feel up for it, come with me to the next event and if you feel overwhelmed at any point, you tell me and we'll take some time out or even leave."

More tears fall, but this time from sheer relief. You hadn't realised you'd dropped your head again until Pedro, once again, lifted your chin. He looked into your eyes with a fierce and passionate determination. "Now, I'll say this only once; I'm not ashamed of you, we are on the same level, you are more than enough for me and you ARE my world. I love you, so much!" You couldn't fight the beaming smile that practically split your face and you grabbed Pedro by the collar of his jacket, crashing your lips against his.

A surprised "Oomph!" came from his throat and you felt him smile against your mouth. His hands slid to your waist and he pulled you flush to his upper body. His tongue licked your lips and you opened them, allowing him to deepen then kiss; a kiss filled with love, reassurance and a promise of forever. Pedro then broke the kiss, pulling you into a hug. "I love you too," you whispered into his ear. "And I'm sorry, I should have told you how I was feeling instead of keeping it from you." Pedro cupped your cheek, wiping away a tear. "I'm sorry too, for making that decision for you instead of talking to you."

You let out a lighthearted chuckle, Pedro's frown softening at the sound. "I guess it was just bad communication on both our parts." "Yeah..." he agreed. "Let's make a promise to each other, right now; that we'll always be open and honest with each other and not keep things bottled up." "I promise," you smile and kiss the tip of his nose. "And I promise, too," he returned the kiss. With all the tension drained from your body, you suddenly feel exhausted and can't stop the big yawn taking over you. Pedro smiled at you, adoringly. "I think we should get you to bed, sweetheart." He stood up, picking you up off the setee and made his way to your bedroom.

"Will you stay tonight?" You whisper as you snuggle into his neck, inhaling the scent you love so much. "Of course I will." He kissed the crown of your head. While you used the bathroom, pedro changed into a pair of PJ bottoms and an old T-shirt he'd left here for when he'd stay over. He used the bathroom after you, rushing through brushing his teeth just so he could return to you sooner. Walking into the bedroom, he laughed to himself when all could see was your eyes peeking at him from the edge of the quilt, which was pulled up to cover your nose. God, you look adorable. Your eyes creased in the corners as you laughed under the cover, then pulled it away for him to settle in next to you.

Pedro laid on his back, lifting his arm for you to snuggle into him. Sighing happily, you lay your head on his broad chest and lace a leg over his hips, the steady thump of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body soothing you instantly. "I love you." You tipped your head up to kiss him softly on his lips. "I love you too," he purred, tightening his arms around you. It didn't take you more than ten minutes to drop off, judging by your slow breaths. Pedro, on the other hand, stayed awake long after you'd dropped off, just relishing the feeling of holding you in his arms. He feels sick to his stomach when he thinks about how close he came to losing you tonight, and all because of a misunderstanding.

He thinks of the ring he's been carrying around, how he almost lost the opportunity to give it to you. Well, he won't wait any longer. If tonight has taught him anything, it's that nothing is guaranteed in life and, even though he never once doubted you'd say yes, just your devastated reaction to believing you'd lost him proves that you love and need him as much as he does you. Tomorrow he'll ask you; He'll wine and dine you at your favourite restaurant, take you on a stroll along the beach and then, he'll get down on one knee and invite you to share the rest of your life with him.

@greenwitchfromthewoods @picketniffler @liciafonseca @misscornelia13 @missadangel @southernbe

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrohub #pedrito #pedro pascal fic

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alexseanchai · 2 days ago

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No data. By which I mean, I now know that this take on the dog I only just learned Superman has had for An While was inspired by James Gunn's dog Ozu, that Alan Tudyk is in the movie but who he's playing has not been announced (and there's a couple other people in the cast whose role is not identified on IMDB either), and that the actor portraying the title character of Air Bud was named Buddy. But I do not know the name, the breed, or anything of the history of the actor portraying Krypto, nor have I seen any behind-the-scenes photos.

So maybe Krypto is CGI voiced by Tudyk—where's that clip of him discussing his role in Moana, where he reminds the audience "I went to Juilliard"?—and maybe Krypto is portrayed by a real dog whose identity is being kept secret for presumably similar reasons to why Tudyk's role is being kept secret. Drawing a blank on why anything about a canine actor would be a spoiler, though. Especially since it seems to me like the canine actor could be in commercials to promote the movie and the SPCA simultaneously, which—

He made the announcement in honor of October being Adopt a Shelter Dog month.

—does seem to be something the creative team cares about.

KRYPTO SUPERMAN (2025) Directed by James Gunn

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bruhstation · 2 days ago

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hello tumbled er

greetings and salutation. it is I, senja heterocaine, speaking to you through your favorite home screens. now you might be wondering: where on earth has senja heterocaine disappeared to these past 5 months? well the answer is as simple as it gets

I focused on my studies.

well yes that is the main reason. but that's like the nerd "obvious" answer. there’s other reasons too. some of which includes me getting into new interests, revisiting my old, hibernating interests, getting involved in university organizations and events, getting more involved in big family stuff since I'm the oldest and the only of-age grandchild of grandma from mom's side.... lots of stuff

so I just finished the third semester of premed school right. honestly speaking, with how I was losing motivation on drawing, the art block post-art fight, and lack of time, I decided to well, take a break. and it’s pretty convenient too since it was early on in the third semester. during the entirety of it I was feeling pretty proud of myself like "oh I've been studying a lot. I've taken a break from drawing and blog stuff. surely things will get better" and it did! not immensely but it's significant enough that for once I don't feel an indescribable sense of terror after the semester ends. the focus of this semester was about reproduction systems and growth and development which is pretty fun? we get to use models and medical phantoms hands-on and poke them with needles and other rube goldberg contraptions. I did miss breeding bacterias in petri dishes and seeing my friends burn the microbiology lab’s ceiling like last semester though. my grades are also improving… slowly but surely

(aftermath not pictured: me lounging on the couch scrolling through quora to see if there are people currently in college wanting to drop out)

maybe I was aiming too high. at least my grades are better than the previous two semesters and my social life is much better than it was back in high school. speaking of exams -- I went through my first osce exam around a week ago (practical exam to see if you can actually perform the skills labs lessons from the entire semester like you're a real physician). it was the most terrifying day of the month. my dentist said I have a big tongue and that’s why I can’t speak properly if I’m being too fast. ntm I WAS NERVOUS!!! MY FIRST OSCE!!! with how I memorized everything I needed, I was pretty confident that I'd pass, though. I didn't and retook the exam the next day. the prelude was the worst crash out ever

ah ptooey. I'll just take it like a champ. my tutor who's 3 years older than me and currently in the anesthetic rotation of co-ass told me that things will get easier but that's very subjective. he's a medical olympiad student after all. my parents are pretty happy though with how my academic life is becoming better so that's that

LETS MOVE ON TO SOMETHING LIGHTER. section B: what I've been getting into ever since bruhstation was put on cryostasis

you know Transformers One (2024)? the transformers movie directed by josh cooley? based on the Transformers(tm) franchise by Takara Tomy and Hasbro? most tragic break up movie of the decade? I watched it twice, squealed once, and left me broken and inconsolable for weeks on end. it made me revisit my dormant transformers interest after 5 years. I've reread the idw comics (mtmte, LL, taao, main transformers comic), and is currently checking out more (reading the wreckers saga right now). god it made me miss rodimus and friends' zany space opera adventures. I've always envisioned casa tidmouth to have the same tone as mtmte... the oftentimes dark humor, fridge horror stuff, weird magic/science, the roller coaster of emotions, confronting the past... its crazy good.

stories where misfits and knuckleheads band together in a confined space while having crazy doctor who-like adventures am I right. like I want casa tidmouth to be like that. remind me to thank 14 year old me for this trip down memory lane. and as usual, I tend to make self-indulgent crossovers of any interest I'm thinking about at the moment with casa tidmouth

a terrifying sneak peak on what's to come.

I've been working on my oc projects too. you may have seen some of them on artfight (graciela, saudade, altair, etc) but I've been focusing the most on graciela and saudade's universe, children's heterotopia. it has the largest amount of characters in any story I've created (not counting casa tidmouth), the most effort put into planning the stories and weaving in its themes about capitalism, patriarchy, period-typical bigotry, etc. there's human experimentation and they're given powers that range from punching super hard to time and space displacement. I also inserted whatever I wanted into the story. sure, yes, there's a lesbians-only organization of which its members are named off the knights of the round table, theres a mafia that focuses more on the family drama and attempted parricide from all angles, and tragic assassin maids of which their names are wuthering heights references. also if you've been following my main tumblr hajimedics for a while, you might've seen my three fairly oddparents ocs. well I've given them the tezuka star system treatment and inserted them into children's heterotopia as well.

I've also gotten into UTAU production! I've made a number of UTAU covers but haven't uploaded them to youtube. only shared them around with my friends on priv twitter. a good friend of mine assisted in the creation of my own UTAU voicebank! their name is TORKA (like "torque"), their voice bank has a slight accent when singing in japanese (because I'm their voice lol) and CV-only, their in-universe lore is that they're an intergalactic train conductor picking up wayfarers and outcasts trying to find a place in the vast universe, and I love them dearly

moving on! this is a thomas the engine and company blog THIS IS A LIFE UPDATE POST

I'd rather not discuss about how I'm doing mentally in deep detail BUT what I'll say is that I can't confidently say "I'm doing better" or "I'm doing worse" because it always depends on the days. things are okay-ish nowadays. some days are scary. some days are boring. I still experience delusions, (ironically) worried about my anhedonia, and believe that certain bouts of confidence will trigger a jinx, but I think I've been controlling myself well? at least? I keep internalizing the belief that I'm an adult. 20 years old. I have to act accordingly and my life in real life is ten times more important than the internet. things are going to change more and more once I graduate premed and began the co-ass program. I have to think 10 steps into the future. building successful connections before you turn 30. sigma grindset and all that. sorry that was my father using my body as a spirit medium

AND ALSO. ALSO. BACK TO THE BLOG DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME I PROMISED TO MAKE A COMIC BASED ON THE RESULTS OF THE 1000 FOLLOWERS POLL AND NEVER DID UNTIL NOW. I'm terribly sorry. I promise I will get into it I SWEAR procrastination is kicking my ass. I have to plan the dialogue and script and stuff AND DRAW BUT

BUT HERE’S THE FUNNY THING

THE BLOG REACHED 2000+ FOLLOWERS A FEW MONTHS AGO

NOW WHAT DO I DO TO CELEBRATE?

I don’t know honestly. I haven’t done the 1000+ followers celebratory comic, and NOW I HAVE 2000+ FOLLOWERS. THERES 2000+ OF YOU NOW!!!!! THAT’S CRAZY (IN A GOOD WAY)!!!! I thank you all for sticking with bruhstation through thick and thin for around 2 and a half years. I’m glad for all your support, fanarts, asks, and such truly. like wow. 2k. in such a short time too! thanks guys. admittedly, I feel kind of guilty to leave everyone hanging for months with nothing to give, especially with such a high follower number. and realistically? I don’t think I’ll be able to draw as much as I used to. like I’ve said earlier, I’ve been busy with my personal life and oc projects. it’s not like I’m abandoning this blog any time soon? I’m just speaking from a logical perspective, given my status as a student and (possibly, hopefully) future doctor too. I don't want to burn myself out posting like thrice a week, answering asks daily, I want to take things slow. at my own pace. maybe I'll focus on designing side characters as well and thinking about their roles in the story! but that's for another day. I’m just glad everyone’s still sticking around and enjoying my silly stuff

I do want to draw more for this blog! I want to put thomas and co. in more situations. make them dance for all our entertainments. but when you’re an adult, you realize that you have your own priorities. you can’t always do the things you wanna do. you can’t just drop something you don’t like out of the blue. sometimes you have to sigh, scratch the back of your neck, and brave it while saying “I sure am getting old”

oh and also I'm a butch lesbian now. still he/they (heavy preference on he/him), still preferring masculine terms like "mr", "sir", "guy", still as crazy as ever. still aroace too and not interested in dating, something that's been a constant in my identity ever since I'm in early high school. little have changed I can assure you this. I am still senja. senja heterocaine from the net.

and thus concludes senja’s life update post! what will the next post after this be about? something gordon-centric again? serious colored art? old men yaoi? silent hill UK localization? place your bets. everyone loves a good laugh

#life update post: now with illustrations #zin.txt #thomas the tank engine #ttte gordon #ttte james #judea (oc)#casa tidmouth #tugs zip #tugs ten cents #fortezza bigg city #very long post #senjart

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keiluv-s · 3 days ago

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u can run but u can hide

cw. ghostface!suna x fem!reader, pet names, smut, little non-con if u pay attention, established relationship at the end, english isn’t my first language.

wa. 2,7k

It was close to 10 p.m. when I went down to the kitchen to make some popcorn. My parents went on a trip and left me home alone. It was common for nights like this to happen, as they always traveled for work.

I put the butter and corn in the popcorn maker and turned on the stove at the same time as the landline in the living room started ringing. The phone was maintained by my parents' work, because let's face it, nobody still uses a landline these days.

“Hello?”

“Hello, who is it?” a thick voice asked on the other end of the line.

“Who are you trying to reach?”

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” I replied.

“I don't know.”

“Well, I think you have the wrong number, then” I spoke simplistically.

“Do I?”

“Yeah, it happens.” I shrugged, even though the person couldn't see me, and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. I turned to go back into the kitchen when the phone rang again.

“Yeah, I guess I really did call the wrong number.” It was the same voice.

“So why did you call again?” I asked, with a laugh.

“To apologize.”

“You're forgiven. Bye.”

“Wait, don't hang up!” The person exclaimed.

“Huh? Why not?”

“I want to talk to you for a minute.”

“Well, you have plenty of other numbers for that.” I said with a smile, hanging up the phone.

The popcorn had left a delicious aroma in the kitchen and my mouth was already watering. I was stirring the popcorn popper, waiting for the corn to stop popping, when my cell phone rang. It was a private number, so I had no idea who it was, but I answered anyway.

“Hello?” I asked as I looked for a bowl to put my popcorn in.

“Why don't you want to talk to me?”

“Okay, who is it?”

“Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”

“Um, no, I don't think so.” I rested my cell phone on my neck to get the popcorn out of the pot.

“What's that noise?”

“Popcorn.”

“Um, I only eat popcorn at the movies.”

“Well, I'm going to watch a movie now.”

“Yeah? What movie?”

“Oh it's just some scary movie.”

“A scary movie? Interesting” the person on the other end of the line paused and I could hear his heavy breathing “What's your favorite scary movie?”

“Oh, I don't know...” I pondered a bit, leaning on the kitchen counter, popping some popcorn in my mouth “I think… Scream.”

“It's the one with the masked killer, isn't it?”

I mumbled an "uh-huh", wanting to end the conversation

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” The person asks.

“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” I asked mischievously, with a laugh.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mm, no.”

“You never told me your name.”

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.” the person stopped talking and I remained silent, a shiver ran through my body and the joke was no longer funny. “Are you used to being alone at home, y/n?”

“Who's talking?” I asked seriously this time.

“Calm down, there's no need to get nervous” the person spoke with an annoying calmness “You see, it's important to lock all the doors when you're home alone, especially at this time of night. Are you sure everything is locked, y/n?”

“It's not funny anymore. You know I can call the police if you carry on with this silly little game, don't you?” I checked the front door and the door to the living room that led to the garden and both were locked.

“Yeah? And what would you say to the police? Although... I don't think it's a good idea to call the police, sweetheart, especially given the clothes you're wearing, right? You know how disgusting these guys can be.”

I swallowed, going up to the second floor.

“And what am I wearing?” I asked. It was probably just some weirdo trying to prank and scare me. From school, maybe. But even so, I checked the glass doors leading to the balcony, just to be sure.

“Um, let's see... You're wearing a black tank top, and apparently you're not wearing a bra since your nipples are marked on the fabric, and a... what is that? A pair of panties? Shorts? I can't tell the difference, but it's short, black and has a kitten print.” My heart was pounding out of my chest and I wouldn't be surprised if it jumped out “You're quite a sight, y/n.”

“Right, end of joke. I'll call the police.” I ended the call and went to my room. Of course I wouldn't call the police for that.

A cold wind blew in through the open window, chilling my bare legs. I hurried to close it and locked it out of conscience just as I heard a noise in the hallway, only to stick my head out and see nothing. I jumped with a gasp when my cell phone rang again, but fortunately, this time it was my mother.

“Hi babygirl, how are you?” she asked softly and I relaxed at hearing her voice.

“Hey, Mom! I’m okay, how are you?” I lied, I wasn't going to worry my parents on account of some unoccupied weirdo.

“We're fine!” I heard my father shouting "I love you, baby!" in the background and my mother's laughter “I called to see if everything was okay, you're not scared, are you?”

I laughed nervously “Of course not! I'm a big girl, I can stay at home on my own!”

“Huuumm okay, Mrs. Grown-up” we laughed “Make sure you go to sleep soon, huh? Don't stay up till dawn.”

“Yes, ma'am!” We laughed some more and said goodbye.

I was able to relax a bit more and went down to the kitchen to get my popcorn. I went upstairs and turned off the downstairs lights that were on and returned to my room, putting the movie on the TV and lying down on the bed.

[…]

I was almost halfway through the movie, about forty minutes in, when I heard a noise, a kind of thump. I instantly remembered the phone call from earlier, which had really scared me. I decided to ignore it, it must have been the wind knocking something over in the garden or something. I played the movie and snuggled into bed, my popcorn bucket long since empty. But, as my peace wasn't lasting long tonight, I began to hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. I stopped the movie immediately. I tried to convince myself that it was nerves about the phone call that must have been in my head, or even the influence of the movie, but it was too real to be in my head. The footsteps were firm, they didn't seem to want to go unnoticed. A thick, loud voice said "toc, toc" followed by two knocks on my door. I froze, paralyzed on the bed.

“Cat got your tongue, y/n?” it was the same voice from the phone, I knew for sure.

“What are you doing in my house?! How did you get in here?” I asked nervously.

“Come on, I told you it was dangerous to leave the doors unlocked, didn't I?” the guy said, in the same calm, irritating tone of voice.

“Everything was locked, you weirdo!”

“Are you sure?” the door handle began to turn slowly and my body moved on its own towards the closet.

I hid among my clothes, crouching on the floor. I was panting and shaking, tears in the corners of my eyes. I heard the door creak open and footsteps entered my room. I mentally cursed myself when I realized that I had left my cell phone on the bed. Now would be a good time to call the police.

“Do you want to play hide and seek?” he said, laughing before continuing: “All right, it's more interesting that way.”

I heard him open the door to my bathroom and I could see when he turned the light on through the crack in the door. I also heard him open the drawer of my dressing table and play the movie on the television, even though he had turned the volume down.

My heart was pounding loudly and I was afraid he could hear it, so I put my hand over my mouth to stop my panting coming out too loud. I watched as he opened the closet door. He was a tall guy. All black pants, shirt and boots and a white ghost mask preventing me from seeing his face. The fucking ghostface. He rummaged through some hangers, making space between the clothes. My heart beat even faster, he'll find me. He'll find me!

“Boo!” he made space at once between the clothes covering me, a sadistic laugh coming from beneath his mask.

[…]

“What do you want?” I asked in a tearful voice, sniffling.

He laughed: “Let's watch the movie.”

What?!

I looked at him paralyzed, still crouched on the floor of my closet, and he left, sitting on my bed.

“Aren't you coming?” he turned to me, as if waiting for me. I got up from the floor, walking slowly over to him and sitting on the bed on top of my legs. He shook his head in denial, clicking his tongue. “Come here, sit down.” he patted his own lap.

I swallowed and looked at him incredulously, even though I couldn't see his face. I stood up and faced him. With surprising speed, he turned me onto my back and whispered against the back of my neck: “Do you know what a safe word is, y/n?” I nodded “Yours is mercy, you'll use it if you need to.”

His big an cold hands gripped my thighs firmly from behind.

“Bent forward and your head on the floor.” he ordered, his voice firm.

I did as he asked, sat on his lap, my clitoris almost brushing against his scratchy jeans, I was hanging off the bed, my torso stretched out and my face almost touching my white fur rug.

“What do we have here?” he said, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was smiling.

He pulled my pajama shorts aside, the chilly air in the room making my pussy clench around nothing, since I wasn't wearing any panties. He ran one of his fingers between my outer lips, realizing right there that I was wet.

“Did the fright I gave you make you wet, sweetheart? What a pervert...” he pulled my shorts down my legs with a little difficulty due to the position, hooking my ankles around his waist.

His hands roamed up and down my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the curve of my ass. I was all open for him, open and dripping.

“So pretty, babe” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, followed by a slap on my ass. It burned.

One more.

My thighs trembled from the slaps and my pussy throbbed and ached from lack of stimulation. I moved my hips down, my clitoris rubbing against his jeans, and I let out a louder moan than I expected.

“Owwn” he laughed “Does that pussy need something, pretty girl?”

I gasped when his icy thumb brushed under my clitoris.

“Come on, beautiful, I asked you a question. Don't be rude.”

“I...” I was dizzy. Maybe because I was horny, maybe because of my position and my blood was rushing to my head. I was nothing but a mess.

“Looks like someone here likes to be scared” he laughed as he rubbed my swollen clit.

I moaned, unconsciously leaning towards him for more contact as his palm slapped my pussy, the pain reverberating throughout my body. He slapped my ass again, my skin was hot and burning.

“Your pussy looks even prettier when your ass is red, that’s funny” but his tone had no humor in it.

When the seventh slap came, I let out a yelp, scrambling to my feet in a failed attempt to ward off the pain burning my skin. He laughed at my attitude, stroking my burning ass. Each time he slammed into me, the momentum pushed me further and further down, rubbing my clit against his jeans, which were probably already stained with my lubrication. Those flashes of pleasure were what kept me there, the pain and pleasure turning me on even more.

“Come on, babe, do you want to cum already?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down.

I turned my crying face to the side, trying to see his figure: “Yes! I... Please!” I was nothing but a humiliating mess who just wanted some relief.

“Very well, then” he pulled my torso to himself, my back against his hard and warm chest, my battered ass pinching under his scratchy jeans.

“You okay, babe? Do you want to use your word?” he asked, his hot breath hitting my cheek. I denied it. He smiled. “That's my good girl.”

He laid me on the bed, my back on the mattress, while he lay on top of me. He ripped off my top with ease, my nipples erect from arousal and the chilly air in the room welcoming them. He tugged on my right nipple with his forefinger and thumb, twisting it and pulling it upwards, eliciting a moan from me. He left a kiss on my belly and started to undress, without taking off his mask yet. His chest was white and toned, with a few spots here and there, as were his thighs. His cock wasn't thick, but it was long and slightly curved upwards. The little pink head was leaking pre-cum and had a prominent vein at the base. I sighed at the sight.

“Enjoying the view, doll?” he asked, head tilted to the side, sliding his right hand in a slow masturbation. I tipped my head back, biting my lip with a stifled laugh. You bet I am. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He said slyly, pulling me up by my ankles and slowly inserting his cock into my needy pussy.

“Oh fuck” I moaned, sinking my head into the sheets. My insides trembled around his cock, feeling full. He sighed heavily above me, muffled by the mask.

He moved his hips back, taking his cock out completely, to shove it in again with force. He did this a few times before he started thrusting hard. I moaned loudly, too sensitive. My pussy was squeezing his hard cock and my clit was throbbing, my ass was burning against the sheets. I brought two fingers to my clit to stimulate it, but they were soon removed and replaced by his.

He rubbed my swollen spot hard with his thumb while I squeezed my nipples. The familiar pressure felt extremely good from my womb.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum!” I exclaimed as I felt my orgasm coming, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving deep into my pussy.

My legs trembled as the orgasm hit me and I opened my mouth in a silent moan. He penetrated me a few more times, prolonging my orgasm as he deposited his hot cum inside me.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he removed his mask, kissing me for the first time that night, a delicate kiss. I laughed against his lips. “You perverted little thing!” he laughed, slapping my sensitive ass, not so hard this time.

“Rin, babe! That was awesome!” I kissed him with so much love.

“You naughty naughty girl!” he laughed, biting my lower lip as he pushed his oozing cum back into my pussy.

“Yeah and you like it!”

Well, let's see what a coincidence. The weirdo Mr. Ghostface who broke into my house and fucked me happened to be my boyfriend, Suna. He and I always like to do something different when it comes to sex from time to time, and knowing that his naughty girlfriend was a little scared and horny about ghostface and that she'd be home alone all night, he wanted to surprise me. Besides, I would recognize my boyfriend's voice on the phone, which only increased my anxiety and excitement about what he would do that night. And what a good surprise it was!

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revelboo · 1 day ago

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Your Soundwave and Starscream make my brain more happy than my antidepressants * - *

I like writing both of them and coming up with alternate takes for them

The idea for the first part popped into my head before bed and was still there in the morning, so I wrote it. But I keep thinking, what if Soundwave knew Shockwave before empurata, back when he was Senator Shockwave? Before they stripped the good parts away and left only the drive to preserve and protect Cybertron, before all the reasons he cared, every emotion but anger had been cut away along with his memories of why it was important to him. What if they were friends and that’s why Soundwave is so patient with his weird, unsettling behavior and anger issues?

Clumsy Heart Pt 2

IDW Shockwave x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• “I can dispose of this one and find another if they’re unsatisfactory,” he offers when Soundwave is silent, visor dim as he just stares at the human. Displeased with you. Reaching for you, Soundwave’s hand catches his wrist when the human tenses as if considering jumping even though they must realize they won’t survive the fall. Head turning back to Soundwave in question, he waits. “I can find another.”

• “No. Leave it.” You’re only a human, nothing he should care about, but that dispassionate offer to dispose of you doesn’t sit right with him. Knows it’s the lingering grief, but the fear in your eyes, in your mind pulls at him. Makes his spark ache. Releasing Shockwave, he lays the back of his hand on the surface. “Come.” Those wide eyes go from him to Shockwave and back. You’d just heard Shockwave mention disposing you, of course you’re scared of both of them now. And yet, you twist your little hands together and approach him. Stopping just shy of his servos. Looking up at him with wet eyes.

• Dispose, like you’re a bit of trash to throw away. Because the universe isn’t done screwing with you. Apparently catching your ex was just the warm up to this horror. Trying to study them both without angering them, you can feel your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough you wander if you might have a stroke and not actually have to worry about what the giant, robotic monsters want with you. Because that might be the kinder way to go if all the horror movies you’ve watched are any indication. Dissection? Maybe you’re food? A plaything to torment until they break you?

• That anxiety and fear is nearly crippling as Soundwave crooks a servo. Needs you to calm down, because right now he can’t think. Little face grim like you think you’re marching to your own death, you climb into his hand and sit down, shoulders tense. And it’s worse. So much worse when you lay your little palms against him, your wild emotions crashing through his defenses, flooding into him. Shuddering with your fear, head bowing, he’s aware of the ragged, tonal sound of pain he makes. That he’s drowning in you, unable to stop it. “Stop.” Pleading because he can’t shut you out, your terror needling his spark, slicing into him.

• That word sounds like a plea. Like he’s in pain. Something’s wrong. Soundwave trembling faintly as his head dips toward the human. Doesn’t understand what’s happening, but it seems plausible that it’s because of you. Reaching, he uses his cannon to rake you out of Soundwave’s palm, hearing your yelp as you land on your back and slide on the surface of the desk, immediately curling into a ball. And again Soundwave stops him from removing you, grabbing his arm. “Why?” He asks. You’re clearly somehow a threat, so why restrain him? Why not let him permanently remove you?

• Arms covering your head, you draw your legs up against yourself and wait for the next blow. Wonder if you can make it to the edge of the surface you’re trapped on before you’re caught. If you can jump and land so you don’t break something. Needing to believe there’s a way out of this. That you can survive them.

• Venting raggedly as he watches you peek at him, he wonders that himself. You hadn’t been trying to hurt him, your fear just too visceral. A living thing, all jagged edges that can cut him. A hand still on Shockwave’s arm, he reaches out a single servo. Rumbles softly at you, making that low, tonal hum he uses on his cassettes to soothe. Spark aching as you shiver, curling tighter into a ball. Because you’re not a cassette, you don’t understand he isn’t going to hurt you. Ghosting that servo over you, he keeps humming to you. Coaxing you even as it hurts him, his grief and loss tangling with your fear in a confusion of misery. Unable to stop crooning at you through the agony.

#transformers x reader #idw soundwave #soundwave x reader #shockwave x reader #idw shockwave

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scary-grace · 3 days ago

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(secret) santa, baby - part 7 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii

part vii (staying in)

“I think everyone else is asleep,” you say, glancing around Toga’s living room. “We can probably turn this off.”

“Still awake,” Spinner says from the armchair, which he stole when Magne left after the end of the third movie. “I’m watching.”

“Yeah? What just happened?” Tomura asks.

“He’s giving everybody weird haircuts,” Spinner says. Close enough. “I have to pay attention. Aiba likes this guy’s movies. She says he’s –”

He yawns. “Nostalgic. I’m watching.”

“Okay, but nobody else is,” you say. “Shouldn’t we call it?”

Tomura glances around the room. Magne left after making everybody sit through Love Actually and Twice left midway through Die Hard because he gets scared of sleeping in other people’s houses, which leaves Toga, the girl she invited, Spinner, Dabi, Tomura, and you. Of everybody who’s left, only you and Tomura can be said to actually be awake. Spinner’s yawning on every other breath, Toga and the girl are cuddled up in the same beanbag, snoring, and Dabi drank too much eggnog and was out like a light before they’d even finished Krampus. You and Tomura are definitely outnumbered.

It’s not like Tomura isn’t tired. Tomura’s really tired. He feels the heaviness in his limbs and the yawns tightening his jaw, but his mind is wide awake, and he’s going to pay attention to every second of the movie you picked. Since he gave up forcing everybody to watch Gremlins in favor of your movie, he wants to make sure it was worth it, and he wants to know exactly what happened in case you want to talk about it afterwards. He’s hoping you do. He’s not ready for you to leave yet.

Tomura wasn’t sure about seeing you outside of work, but then he decided it would help him figure things out. Seeing you around the office is one thing. For him to know if he likes you, he has to know what you’re like outside of work, so he can decide if he’d want to hang out with you then, too. Tomura’s not good at this whole liking-people bullshit. If there was some kind of life skills class where everybody learned it, he probably missed it while he was being homeschooled or in juvie. By the time he got out, halfway through high school, everybody already knew what they were doing. Tomura just has to fumble through somehow.

You make it feel less like fumbling. It makes more sense to Tomura when you’re sitting next to him, roasting Love Actually just like he is, actually paying attention during the horror movie he picked instead of drinking straight through it. You pay attention to things, notice them, just like Tomura’s Secret Santa notices stuff about him. Tomura feels less weird about being noticed than he used to.

But he doesn’t want to just sit here noticing and getting noticed all night long. He wants to talk to you about something that’s not work or whatever dumb Christmas thing is happening, and he can only manage half. “Is this really the first movie you thought of when I said you could pick one?”

“I was trying to pick one you all would like,” you say. Something about that reminds Tomura of the way you wrote your wish list. “I do like this one, though. Some people think it’s stretching it to call it a Christmas movie, but it’s all leading up to Christmas, so I count it.”

Movies that can only be called Christmas movies if Tomura’s stretching it are his favorite kind of Christmas movies. “Why do you like it when it’s going to be sad?”

You glance sideways at him. “What makes you think it’s going to be sad?”

“The grandma telling the story is the main girl when she’s old, and she’s telling it past tense,” Tomura says. You nod. “Besides, he’s – like that. No way is that working out well for anybody.”

“But it could,” you counter. “You might be right about how the story goes, but there’s nothing in the story that says it has to be that way.”

Tomura thought you were awake, but maybe you’re sleepier than he thought. “You mean, other than the whole story so far?”

“I mean –” You trail off. “In some stories, there’s obstacles that can’t be overcome. Like somebody being dead, or something being too wrong to work. And in some stories the obstacles are a choice, kind of. Those are the ones I like.”

Tomura’s played games where choices matter. Somehow he always stumbles into the bad ending, and knowing that there’s a good ending out there that he was too stupid to get makes it even worse. If you like those stories, you’re probably better at making choices than he is. Still – “If the end’s the same, why does it matter?”

“Well –”

“Hey, can you save the philosophy until after the movie?” Spinner yawns. “I’m still trying to watch.”

Tomura gives it five minutes until Spinner passes out, and he’s only off by about thirty seconds or so. Now it’s just the two of you awake, watching the weird movie you picked. Tomura’s trying hard to watch the movie, but just like he keeps getting the song you sang stuck in his head, he keeps getting stuck looking at you.

The movie ends like Tomura thought it would – sadly, but not surprisingly – and he glances at you. “You’re going to say she could have chosen to stay with him,” Tomura says, and you nod. “Why would she do that? When he’s – like that –”

Tomura doesn’t get why he’s being squeamish about calling it like it is. The main character’s ugly. Scary. Nothing anybody wants to touch. “Maybe she likes him how he is,” you say. You’re not looking at the screen anymore. You’re looking at Tomura. “There’s nothing about the story that says she couldn’t have picked him. There’d have been consequences, but there are always consequences. And I guess that’s why it’s sad. Knowing it could have been the other way just as easily.”

You look away from Tomura, and even though he usually hates being looked at, he sort of misses it. “I guess it’s good that everybody fell asleep,” you say. “This doesn’t really seem like a sad-Christmas crowd.”

“Sad Christmas makes more sense than happy Christmas,” Tomura says before he can really think about it. “It never made sense to me, except –”

Making friends. Spending the holidays with them instead of wondering why everybody but him got to celebrate with people they mattered to. And he’ll never admit it to Toga, or anyone, but the Secret Santa thing is kind of fun. He likes leaving stuff for you and seeing how you react. Almost as much as he likes getting things from whoever his Secret Santa is.

“Yeah,” you say, like he’s explained it all out loud. Maybe he’s tired enough that he has and just didn’t realize. “I can see that.”

You’re doing that noticing thing again. Tomura keeps looking at you, trying to notice you back, but the longer the two of you look at each other, the weirder it starts to feel between you. Like there’s something more that needs to happen. Tomura steels himself, braced for whatever you do or to act as soon as he has an idea of what to do.

And then you look away. “It’s late. I should go.”

“You could stay,” Tomura says. “None of us except Toga live here, and we’re all sleeping over.”

You look like you’re thinking about it. Tomura can think of a lot of reasons why you should – it’s late, it’s cold, it’s probably a long way to your apartment, you’d basically have to wake up again by the time you got home – but before he can say any of them, you nod. “Okay. Where should we sleep?”

You end up with your heads at opposite ends of the couch, under the same blanket. Both of you rustle around, knees knocking together as you try to settle in. You fall asleep faster than Tomura does. There’s no way he can imagine you tangling your legs up with his if you were awake, and Tomura’s so focused on trying to live with being this close to someone that the question of whether he likes you is answered definitively offscreen. It’s something he wakes up with. Just like he wakes up still sharing the couch with you.

<- part vi part viii ->

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #secret santa au

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daisymbin · 19 hours ago

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cookies & sprinklers - joshua hong

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

joshua punched in the passcode to seungkwan and jeonghan’s shared apartment, the beep echoing in the quiet hallway. he pushed the door open and stepped aside to let you in, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“it’s so like them to be late to their own plans,” he remarked as the lock clicked behind him.

you laughed, toeing off your shoes. “i feel like they secretly do it on purpose. but doesn’t it feel kind of wrong to just… be here without them?”

“they told us to come in,” joshua replied, calm as ever. “besides, if we waited outside, seungkwan would just call us irresponsible for standing around like we don’t know how to open a door.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “true. but it’s so quiet. what are we supposed to do?”

“we could just sit and wait like normal people,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. “or maybe put on a movie?”

you snapped your fingers, a sudden idea sparking. “what if i baked something? as a surprise for them. seungkwan would love it.”

joshua looked skeptical, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “in their kitchen? are you sure that’s a good idea? jeonghan’s super particular about his stuff.”

“it’ll be fine,” you waved him off, already heading to the kitchen. “i’ll make cookies. simple, sweet, and impossible to mess up.”

joshua followed reluctantly. “just don’t tell jeonghan i let you do this.”

you threw yourself into baking with enthusiasm, pulling out ingredients and chatting away. everything was fine—until it wasn’t. halfway through, a puff of flour exploded from the mixer, enveloping you and joshua in a cloud of white dust.

“okay,” he said, coughing. “not a great start, but we’re fine.”

“it’s under control!” you insisted, though your voice wavered.

then, in a moment of carelessness, the dish towel left too close to the stovetop caught fire.

“joshua!” you shrieked, pointing at the growing flames.

he didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a pitcher of water and dousing the flames in one swift motion. but before relief could set in, the apartment’s sprinklers activated, drenching you, joshua, and the entire kitchen.

“oh no,” you whispered, water dripping from your hair. “they’re going to kill us. we need to clean this all up now.” panic overtaking you.

the sound of the front door unlocking made you freeze.

“we’re here!” jeonghan’s voice called, cheerful as ever. his footsteps faltered as he entered. “what... happened?”

seungkwan followed, his expression turning from confusion to outrage in record time. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY KITCHEN?”

joshua quickly stepped forward, shielding you from their wrath. “it was me,” he said calmly, raising his hands. “i tried baking.”

jeonghan’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “you? you thought baking in my kitchen was a good idea?”

“you don’t even bake!” seungkwan screeched, waving his arms at the chaos. “my oven! my beautiful, perfect oven! she was pristine until you destroyed her!”

“i’ll clean it up,” joshua said, unflappable. “and i’ll replace anything that’s damaged. just... don’t be too mad.”

jeonghan crossed his arms, glaring. “oh, we’re mad. you’re never hearing the end of this.”

“i’m putting it in the group chat,” seungkwan added with a vindictive grin. “everyone’s going to know.”

“even jihoon?” joshua asked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

jeonghan smirked. “especially jihoon.”

as they continued their tirade, jeonghan suddenly squinted at you. “wait. why are you so quiet?”

“yeah,” seungkwan agreed, his eyes narrowing. “you look guilty.”

you froze. “me? i —”

jeonghan pointed dramatically. “you're hiding something.”

“totally guilty,” seungkwan agreed. “spit it out.”

joshua stepped between you and their accusatory stares. “leave her out of this. it was all me.”

jeonghan blinked, momentarily thrown by the firmness in his voice. seungkwan hesitated, then huffed. “fine. but you owe us. big time.”

as they stomped off to inspect the damage in their closets, joshua turned to you with a soft smile. “don’t worry. they’ll forget about it in a week. maybe.”

you looked at him, water still dripping from his hair. “you really didn’t have to take the blame.”

“of course i did,” he said easily, his tone warm. “it’s my job to protect you.”

despite the chaos, a grin tugged at your lips. “thank you.”

he shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature, gentle smile. “just don’t try to bake in anyone else’s kitchen, okay? especially not mingyu's or seungcheol's.”

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #joshua seventeen #seventeen joshua #joshua fluff #joshua fanfic #joshua imagines #joshua x you #joshua x reader #joshua #joshua hong

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taojjang · 1 day ago

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𐙚 a white christmas ᯓ h.sh.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day nineteen! pairing: bf!seunghan x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: seunghan is so cute u might sob

synopsis: seunghan was absolutely crushed when you told him you’d never experienced a snowy christmas. though snow wasn’t in the forecast, you woke up in a winter wonderland.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

"you've gotta be kidding me!" seunghan shouted.

you flinched from seunghan's sudden shift in volume.

"you've never experienced a white christmas?" seunghan repeated, staring at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. you nodded and looked out the window. "i mean, i've been around snow of course. i've just never seen it snow on christmas." seunghan's mouth was left wide open. snowy christmases were a core memory of his childhood; it would be impossible to forget waking up to white flurries falling out the window before opening the gifts beneath the tree. to hear that your childhood lacked such an endearing memory tugged at his heart.

"that's so unfair :( white christmases are the best! it makes christmas so much better!" seunghan whined. you laughed and brushed his hair away from his face. "it's fine! i can experience it through movies or something. it's not a big deal," you reassured as seunghan was seemingly about to cry.

though you brushed it off as trivial, seunghan felt like he'd just cracked the code as to why you'd been a bit gloomy these days. how could anyone have a good christmas without snow?

the next few days, seunghan would constantly check the weather forecast in search of even a 1% chance of snowfall. the moment he woke up, he'd pick up his phone and check the weather app, then mumble a defeated "no snow today..."

as christmas neared closer, seunghan began losing all hope of a snowy christmas. but as he was shopping for your christmas gifts, his eyes landed on a can of artificial snow.

his eyes lit up with a thought popping into his mind.

why don't i make a white christmas?

★

the night before christmas, you spent longer than usual in the bathroom getting ready for bed. seunghan had pampered you with a rose-petal bath and a glass of champagne. you winded down for the night feeling refreshed and excited for the next morning. as you tucked yourself into bed thinking about how exciting tomorrow will be, you felt seunghan's arms wrap around your waist. he pulled your body backward until your back pressed against his chest. pressing a kiss against your temple, seunghan asked with his voice dripping in affection, "did you have a good day today, angel?" snuggling yourself further into his hug, you nodded and closed your eyes. "of course i did, love." tightening his grip on you, he pulled the blanket over your bodies. he smiled, "i'm glad you did, are you excited for tomorrow?" his embrace was pushing you further and further into tranquility. you weakly mumbled, "so excited..." seunghan laughed feeling your body grow heavier against him. brushing your hair behind your ear, he kissed the top of your head and closed his eyes. seunghan sleepily cooed, "goodnight, angel. i hope you're ready for tomorrow morning~" not thinking much of this, you returned his kiss and drifted off into sleep not long after.

but after falling asleep to the pure silence between you and seunghan, you woke up to a terrible static noise ringing through the room. wondering what could be making so much noise this early in the morning, you turned around to face the airy noise. to your surprise, seunghan was standing with his back facing you, seemingly doing something in front of the desk. "seunghan..?" you called with a groggy voice, rubbing your eyes. turning to you with a panicked expression, seunghan apologized with sad eyes. "oh, i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to be so loud." he put a can down onto the desk and walked over to you. he laid you back down on the bed, stroking your hair. "i'm sorry for waking you, angel. go back to sleep, it's too early." you wanted to listen to him, but you couldn't help but notice a tiny snow-covered christmas tree on your desk which wasn't there last night. still delirious, you ask pointing behind him, "baby, what's that?" seunghan stood ahead of you to block your vision and shook his head. "nothing, y/n, go back to sleep." his dismissal only piqued your curiosity, so you sat up and looked around the room. your mouth went agape as your eyes scanned the snowy scape inside of your room.

the floor was covered in white confetti and there was a small christmas tree sitting on your desk. "ah, i told you to go back to sleep! i'm not even done yet!" seunghan whined, looking down at you with a pout. you smiled and cupped his face in your hands before leaving an affectionate kiss on his lips. "no baby, it's already perfect! this was all for me?" seunghan nodded and wiped the pout off of his face. "i made a white christmas just for you!" he cheered, searching for any satisfaction in your eyes. you excitedly stood up and gave seunghan the tightest hug possible, cheering with an overwhelmingly warm heart, "thank you, baby! you're the cutest :(" his spirits recovering from the excitement in your voice, he pulled away from your hug and looked down at you with pure joy glistening in his eyes and urged, "hurry and freshen up! i need to show you the rest of the house!"

as you exited the bedroom, you were shocked to see the rest of your house turned into a snowy forest. laughing in amusement, you shouted "seunghan, this is so cute! you did such a good job!" seunghan couldn't contain his pride hearing your praises. he wouldn't stop giggling as he stood beside you while you brushed your teeth.

once you were finished freshening up, you explored the rest of the house. each room had white confetti everywhere and sparkly white streamers hanging from the ceiling. but the living room was decorated extra prettily.

entering the living room was like entering a fairytale. the floor was covered in pretty white petals, the ceiling had paper snowflakes hanging from it, the walls had shiny star decals sticking onto them, and the christmas tree was covered in fake snow with crystal icicles hanging from each branch. you never imagined your own home could look so breathtaking.

nor could you ever imagine your love for seunghan to feel so overwhelming.

you turned to seunghan with tears in your eyes as you took him into your arms, wrapping yourself around his chest. speaking through giggles, you said, "it's so beautiful! you did an amazing job, hannie!" seunghan laughed and ran his hands over your back. "thank you, angel! don't worry about the mess, i'll clean it all up once the holidays are over." you shook your head and rested it on his shoulder, whining in disapproval, "no! i could keep it like this forever!" seunghan chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "alright then, let's keep it this way." you cheered and hugged seunghan tighter, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "thank you, hannie. i love you so much more than i could ever put into words," you whispered tenderly, running your hand over the soft fabric of his hoodie. seunghan looked down at you with pure affection in his doting eyes.

"anything for my angel. merry christmas, y/n."

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

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psychoticfemmm · 1 day ago

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Hia! Can you do another Peter Parker x Stark! Reader, I absolutely loved your last one. Could the plotline be along the lines of : Tony walks into your room and finds you and Peter asleep cuddling after you snuck him in the night before. Maybe the whole team gets involved and starts taking photos for blackmail 🤣 Thank you!

Caught in the Act

pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

summary: read the request

The sunlight streamed through your bedroom curtains, falling perfectly on the two of you. Peter Parker’s arm was draped over your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you groaned softly, stirring from your sleep.

The events of the night before were hazy but thrilling: a whispered phone call, Peter scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, and an impromptu movie marathon that ended with the two of you tangled up in each other’s arms.

Peter shifted in his sleep, his nose brushing against your collarbone. A soft hum escaped him, and you smiled, reaching up to lightly ruffle his messy curls.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

The unmistakable voice of Tony Stark shattered the moment.

Your eyes snapped open, and your heart dropped. Standing at the foot of your bed was your dad, his arms crossed and an expression caught between amusement and absolute mortification.

“D-Dad?!” you stammered, sitting up abruptly. Peter groaned at the sudden movement, blinking himself awake.

“Morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled sleepily before realizing where he was and who was standing there. His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. “MR. STARK! I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? Because it looks like Spider-Boy snuck into my daughter’s room and decided to cuddle his way into trouble.”

“Dad, it’s not like that!” you protested, though your flushed face said otherwise.

“Oh, so it’s worse,” Tony quipped, cutting you off. “Got it. And by the way, the entire team is outside, loving this.”

Your jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Tony replied smugly. “Because if I have to suffer through this, everyone else does too.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Steve Rogers stepped in, his phone out and snapping a picture. “Morning, kiddos. Cute couple pose, by the way.”

“STEVE!” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.

Natasha followed, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Aw, I remember young love. You guys were adorable—until Stark called us in for backup.”

“Seriously?” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Natasha added as Thor poked his head in.

“Why was I not informed of this bonding moment?” Thor boomed, grinning. “Ah, Spider-Man and Stark’s offspring. A powerful duo!”

“Can you all get out?!” you shouted, grabbing another pillow.

“Not until I get my blackmail photo,” Natasha teased.

Peter tugged you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to climb out the window.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered back, glaring at the group.

Bruce finally showed up, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Tony, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I like to think I’m setting the bar,” Tony said smugly.

Finally, the team filtered out, laughing and bantering as they went. Tony lingered for a moment, fixing Peter with a look. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker. But if I catch you sneaking in again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter stammered.

As the door shut, the room finally fell silent. You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. Peter lay beside you, covering his face with his hands.

“Well,” you started, “that went about as horribly as it could’ve gone.”

Peter groaned. “They’re never going to let me live this down. Your dad is probably going to build a tracker for me now.”

“Probably,” you teased, rolling onto your side to face him.

He peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin.

Peter leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You know, we could’ve avoided all of this if you hadn’t convinced me to stay the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I convinced you? Last I checked, you were the one who said, ‘But I can’t leave you now, you’re too cute when you’re sleepy.’”

His cheeks turned redder. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did say that.”

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

Peter’s breath hitched, but before he could respond, you pulled back, smirking. “Now, get up, Spider-Boy. We’ve got breakfast to deal with—and probably a million jokes from the team.”

“Great,” he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “But next time, we’re sneaking into my room. May wouldn’t call the Avengers on us.”

“Deal,” you replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

#peter parker x stark!reader #Peter Parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #marvel mcu #fanfiction #the avengers #marvel #Peter Parker x avenger!reader

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mytherapyisreading14 · 2 days ago

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Halloween

Summary: Halloween is just around the corner and it finally brings you closer to Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Fluff

Author’s Note: I have on idea why this came to my mind during Christmas but here we are, I hope you still enjoy it!

“So, do you already have a costume idea?” Garcia asks as I come in. She insisted that the team celebrates Halloween together after finding out that none of us planned anything special that day. “Not yet. But Spence and I wanted to make pumpkin muffins, we'll bring them with us,” I tell her. "Making muffins, how boring. You should make out instead. In the kitchen. No wait, in the kitchen after making muffins,” Garcia says excited and grins.

"Who’s making out in the kitchen?" Morgan asks as he comes around the corner. "Reid and her,” Garcia says. "What? Pretty boy and pretty girl finally make out?" he asks in disbelief. „Shh, he can arrive any moment. And no, we didn’t make out,” I tell Morgan. „Boring,” he says and I roll my eyes at him.

When I started at the BAU, I spent a lot of time with Spencer from the beginning. I loved listening to his ramblings, he taught me to play chess and we always talked about our favorite books and movies. We started to hang out together and over the time, my crush got worse and worse. Eventually I was head over heels in love with him before I could stop it. But I’m too afraid to tell him because we've been friends for so long, even though the others think he's just as in love as I am.

“Why don’t you ask him if he wants to make a partner costume with you?” Gracia asks me. “Babygirl, you always have the best ideas,” Morgan says and I smile. “Why didn't I think of it myself? The idea is great!” I agree. “Oh that’s gonna be so good,” Gracia says when the door opens and Spencer comes in with a coffee and a bag from my favorite bakery.

“Good morning,” he says and hands me the bag. “I heard that they make pumpkin donuts because of Halloween, so I brought you one. It’s from your favorite bakery,” he says and smiles. Morgan and Gracia look at each other and grin. “Oh wow, thank you so much! Did you try them too?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “Then we have to try it together!” I say and reach for the donut and hand it to him. "Just take a bite. It doesn't bother me." He nods and takes a bite of the donut. “They’re really good,” he says and gives me a thumbs up and a smile. I take a bite of the donut too. “Oh wow, I think I've found my new favorite pastry for autumn,” I say with my mouth full of the donut and Spencer smiles again. “I’m glad you like it.” He looks so cute, I just want to kiss him.

“Hey lovebirds, you're not here to feed each other pumpkin donuts, there's still a lot of paper work waiting for you,” Derek says and points to the large stacks on our tables. Spencer turns red and turns away quickly to hide it. I sigh and reach for the first file, Morgan is right, the work doesn't do itself. And we should use the time before we get called away due to a new case.

Half a dozen paper files later, we’re finally done with our work. My head is spinning and even though I've had much more stressful days at work, I'm totally exhausted. Emily and JJ finished work half an hour ago. Rossi is still in Hotch's office to discuss a case and Spencer is just finishing up his last bit of work. I wanted to wait for him so I could ask him about the costume.

He packs up all his things and after saying goodbye to everyone we make our way to the elevator. "Spence, do you already have a costume for the Halloween party? I don't really know what to do yet," I ask to steer the conversation in the right direction. “Not yet, I have some ideas but haven't really decided yet. But I wouldn't tell you anyway, I want it to be a surprise," he says and grins.

“I, um, I was thinking we could, you know, maybe we could make a partner costume?" I ask him and blush. “Oh wow, that’s a great idea! Did you have any couple - uh I mean partner costumes in mind? Since we’re, I mean, since we’re just going as friends,” he says. He’s nervous now too. “To be honest, I don't have any ideas yet. But I will think about it, we'll come up with something eventually. I mean, we still have time left until it’s Halloween,” I say and smile. “Right,” he says and we leave the building and go over to the parking lots.

“Do you need a ride home?” I ask him and Spencer shakes his head. “I'm here by car too but thank you anyway,” he says. “Well then I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks again for the donut,” I say and unlock my car. He smiles and blushes again. He looks so cute, especially when he blushes. "You’re welcome, I'm glad you liked it. See you tomorrow then,” he says and gets into his car too. Before I leave, I send Garcia a quick message. "He agreed!! :)" She answers immediately. "I can hardly wait. I'm excited to see your costume." I smile. Hopefully the time until Halloween will pass quickly. I can hardly wait.

Almost two weeks later the time had finally come. I'm just waiting all morning for the time to pass. Spencer wanted to come early in the afternoon so that we have enough time to make the muffins and then get ready together afterwards.

Last week, after some back and forth, we finally decided on a costume. At my request, we watched Suicide Squad on one of our weekly movie nights. Then the idea came to me to go as Harley Quinn and Joker. Reid wasn't entirely convinced at first, but he couldn't say anything against my argument that he has the perfect hair length and after seeing me so excited, he agreed. We planned our costumes and after a while he got just as excited as I am.

To make time go by faster, I clean my whole apartment again and prepare everything for the pumpkin muffins. Time passes painfully slow but eventually it’s finally 4 o‘clock and the doorbell rings. My heart automatically starts beating faster and I rush to the door. “Hello, I bought us pumpkin donuts, today is the last day they have them,” he greets me. “Hey Spence, thank you so much! I’m really gonna miss them, they made my Halloween time even more sweet. Especially since you always brought them to me.” He blushes, takes off his shoes and we go into the kitchen.

“I've already started to prepare a few things for the muffins. Then we'll have more time to get ready later,” I explain to him. “That’s good, thank you. You have to help me with my makeup anyway, I don't think I can do it that well,” he says and I nod. "No problem, I can do it. Did you get the green hairspray?" I ask him. He nods. "The last bottle, I was lucky.” He goes over to the sink to wash his hands. I turn on some music and we start baking.

I keep snacking on the dough all the time and Spencer just shakes his head laughing. “We won't have anything left for the muffins if you keep on eating all the dough,” he says. “I know, but it just tastes soo good,” I exclaim and take some more.

2 hours later the muffins are all ready and decorated. I put them on the balcony so that they can cool down while Spencer goes in the bathroom to change into his costume. We haven't seen each other's costumes yet, even though we know what it will look like. I go into my room and take my costume out of the closet.

I keep getting stuck in my fishnet tights but manage to put them on after what feels like forever. When I'm finally finished, I look at myself in the mirror again. My shorts are not covering that much but honestly I don't care. I want to driver Spencer crazy tonight. I quickly put my hair in two ponytails and take all my makeup with me into the living room. I'm going to do Spencer's makeup first before I finish getting ready.

He's struggling with the hair dye bottle when I come out. He looks up and his gaze wanders over me. "Wow, you look perfect - I mean the costume. Not that you aren't perfect too, but the costume fits you perfectly. That's what I meant,” he says. I have to hold back my laughter. That's off to a good start already. “Your costume is amazing too, Spence. Purple suits you,” I say and take the bottle out of his hand to open it.

“Do you want me to put it on?” I ask him and he nods. “A little help wouldn’t be bad. But if you want you can get ready first,” he says. “No, I will help you with your hair and make up and then it’s my turn. I can still put on make-up quickly even under stress,” I tell him. "I don't want you to be stressed because of me,” he says. "Don't worry, I’m not,” I tell him and point to the couch for him to sit down.

“Hair or make up first?” I ask him. “Make up,” he says and I reach for my bag. I take two clips so I can keep his hair out of his face. I giggle when I see him like this and quickly take a picture. “Hey, you're supposed to do my makeup, not taking pictures," Spencer interjects with a laugh and tries to take my phone away from me. But I'm quicker and let it disappear back into my pocket. "Sorry but I had to, you just look so cute with the clips,” I say before I reach for the makeup.

I'm really close to his face and it makes me nervous, especially because he's looking into my eyes the whole time. He has the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen. I get lost in them for a moment but then I tear my gaze away from his eyes and focus on applying the makeup. I lean further forward to get a better look before I start applying it but I stumble and lose my balance, falling straight into Spencer's arms.

I turn bright red and try to stand up while straddling Spencer's lap. His hands are on my hips because he tried to catch me. Our faces almost touch and my heart is beating faster than ever. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just lost my balance, I had to lean so far forward so I could see -“ I begin to explain myself but Spencer interrupts me by taking my face in his hands and kissing me.

For a second I'm overwhelmed by the situation because I didn't expect it at all but then I kiss him back immediately. The kiss is gentle and I run my fingers through his hair and briefly break away from the kiss to take out the clips because they are annoying at the moment. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Spencer admits, pulling me even closer to him. “Me too, Spence,” I say, leaning forward to kiss him once more. His hand are gently roaming over my body. I craved this feeling, having him to this close to me, for a long time now.

We keep kissing and after a while I pull away from him. "We should continue to get ready now, otherwise we'll be way too late. The others will tease us all evening then. And this time, rightly so." I say and grin. "I'm afraid that's not possible. I never want to stop kissing you,” Spencer simply says and places another kiss on my mouth. “You only have to stop for now. You can keep kissing me when we’re all ready,” I tell him and play with his hair.

He looks in my eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. He suddenly seems a bit nervous and I nudge him. "What's wrong?" I ask him. “Do you, uh... I mean, should we, uh... I mean, I need to know, do you want to be my girlfriend? Because that's what I want. For long time. Since I first saw you, to be more exact. So I want to know if you want that too, because then we have to think about telling the others and -“ he starts with a faint blush on his cheeks but I cut him off by gently placing a finger on his lips.

“Of course I want that Spencer. I always wanted that. I've been head over heels in love with you ever since you sat next to me on the jet my first day and stated me 1000 statistics about absolutely everything imaginable. I wanted to listen to you forever,” I tell him. He smiles and pulls me into his arms. “I love you. So much that I don't want to let you go just yet. What do you say, kissing and cuddling for 10 more minutes?" he asks me and grins. “You are impossible. And unfortunately also irresistible. Okay, 10 more minutes before we get ready. I love you, my pretty genius.” I say and tap him on the nose before I lean forward and kiss him once more.

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