#the way they get so casual and friendly the more you complete his requests too :')

[ferrarifudds]

Hiii! Could u write abt Oscar getting a crush on a girl that works at hospitality and he’s terrible at hiding it ? Thankssss

The Two of Us. ✷ Oscar Piastri

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Employee!reader

Summary: When he has a massive crush and never knows how to act when he’s around you.

Word Count: 2.1k

Disclaimer/s: Fluffff!!! AWKWARD!oscar…. teehee andddd reader works in f1 hospitality and all that jazz :3

Vera’s Voice! LOVEDDD this request thank u for submitting!!!!. personally my fave so far :’) hope u enjoy :3 SMIRK.

Oscar was terrible at hiding things.

He always had been, actually. Whether it was his nerves before a race, his tendency to overthink every decision, or, as it turned out, the fact that he had developed a massive crush on you.

You worked in F1 hospitality, handling the teams needs, making sure everything ran smoothly, always with a smile on your face.

Oscar often saw you rushing around during race weeks, organizing drinks, coordinating with the chefs, and generally keeping things running in perfect order.

He admired your ability to juggle it all while making it look effortless. But over time, his admiration had morphed into something far more complicated — something he couldn’t ignore.

And the worst part?

He was absolutely terrible at hiding it.

Oscar knew he was being obvious. He could feel his heart race every time you passed by. His palms would sweat, his words would get jumbled, and his eyes would follow you across the paddock like he was under some kind of spell.

He had tried to play it cool, to not let his feelings show, but every time you smiled at him or greeted him, it was like everything he had worked so hard for in his career flew out the window.

And today was no different.

It was an unusually quiet morning preparing for the upcoming practice sessions. The hospitality area was quiet, and Oscar, ever the over-thinker, had found his way to the coffee station.

His fingers drummed against the counter, eyes flicking from one side to the other, waiting for the perfect opportunity to speak to you.

He realized you were standing nearby, organizing some supplies, until you spoke up.

“Goodmorning, Oscar! Need a coffee?” You greeted and asked with a friendly smile, making him jump slightly.

He looked up, caught in the act of staring at you. “Uh—hi, Goodmorning.” He cleared his throat and smiled softly. “And y—yes, that’d be great,” His words stammered, trying to hide the fact that he’d been watching you.

You didn’t seem to notice. You were too focused on pulling the right kind of coffee for him, as always, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

He couldn’t help but watch you work, amazed at how effortlessly you navigated the space, chatting with a few colleagues while still managing to prepare everything just the way everyone liked it.

Oscar, on the other hand, felt like he couldn’t even hold a conversation with you without tripping over his words.

He cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly when you handed him his coffee.

“Thank you,” He smiled, taking it from your hands with a bit too much eagerness. The warmth from the cup didn’t do much to calm the fluttering in his chest.

“No problem,” You said casually, but there was something in the way you glanced at him, as if you were trying to figure him out.

“Mm..” You hummed softly, analyzing him with narrowed eyes and a teasing demeanor but you were still clueless about the way he felt. You were just messing around. “You alright?“

Oscar froze, his heart skipping a beat. Did he really look that obvious? He immediately thought of the worst possible scenario — that everyone could tell how much he was crushing on you.

He forced a smile, trying to brush it off.

“Oh, yeah! Just tired. Got a long day ahead,” He said quickly, hoping to sound nonchalant. “You know how it is.”

You smiled again, that kind smile that made his stomach twist in a good way. “I hear you. Race weekends are always busy. You should take it easy when you can.”

Oscar nodded, but his eyes couldn’t stop flicking back to you. He knew he was being so obvious, but he didn’t know how to stop it. It was like there was some magnetic pull between you, and he was powerless to resist.

“You’re, uh... really good at what you do,” He said, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. His face heated up in embarrassment, and he fumbled with his coffee cup, trying to look like he wasn’t just blabbering on.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden compliment. “Oh, Thanks!” A soft and flattered giggle escaped your lips, clearly a little surprised. “I’m just doing my job.”

Oscar winced internally.

Why did he always sound so weird when he talked to you?

Before he could say anything else to dig himself into a deeper hole, a couple of other team members walked into the area, greeting you with familiar waves.

Oscar took the opportunity to retreat back to the McLaren garage, hoping he hadn’t completely embarrassed himself.

Later on, going into the early afternoon, the Aussie was casually lounging with his dearest teammate, taking a break from the madness of the day.

Lando, ever the curious one, knew about his Oscar’s little crush and had been sure to watch his reactions every race weekend.

The way he would suddenly stiffen up whenever you walked into the room, the way his eyes would lock onto you from across the paddock — it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

Oscar, as usual, was trying to act casual. He was sipping on his water, pretending to scroll through his phone, but his eyes kept flicking over to where you were standing, talking with some of the hospitality crew.

You were laughing at something someone had said, completely unaware that Oscar’s heart was about to leap out of his chest.

Lando, noticing this for the hundredth time, raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “So... how long are you gonna keep doing this?”

Oscar’s head snapped to him, his face flushing immediately. “What?”

Lando let out an exaggerated sigh and leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He chuckled. “Mate, you’ve got it bad.”

Oscar groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t have it bad,” He scoffed. “I’m just... I don’t know. It’s not like I can just walk up and ask her out.”

Lando snorted. “Are you twelve? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Oscar shot him a look. “Say no.. And then it’d be... weird?”

“Well, yeah, that’s possible,” Lando admitted. “But, seriously. What’s there to be afraid of? You’re a top performance athlete and you’re afraid of rejection?”

Oscar groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This is completely different. This is personal.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his grin widening before he snorted, clearly amused. “You’re making this way more complicated than it needs to be. If you ask her out and she says no, it’s not the end of the world. But if you don’t try, you’ll never know. You can’t just keep staring at her from across the room forever.” He paused.

“And that’s just creepy.”

Oscar winced at the thought. “I’m not a stalker.”

“I’m just saying,” Lando shrugged. “You’ve got to at least try.“

Oscar’s face flushed, his nerves getting the best of him as he glanced over at you again, laughing with the hospitality team. He couldn’t help but feel the pull of wanting to ask, but his anxiety still held him back.

“I don’t know...” Oscar muttered, taking a deep breath. “What if she thinks I’m … I don’t know.. weird..”

Lando leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You’re weird regardless.” He rolled his eyes.

“Ha. Thanks.” The Aussie sarcastically quipped.

“Just go for it, mate. Trust me, it’ll feel a lot better than holding onto it.”

Oscar’s eyes darted back to you again. Lando was right, wasn’t he? His whole body was practically buzzing with anticipation.

Lando was basically daring him to take the plunge. He had to admit, there was a part of him that was tired of waiting.

“Okay,” Oscar said, his voice low but determined.

Lando’s grin widened, satisfied. “That’s what I like to hear. Go and make your move, mate.”

Later, the evening eventually arrived, and the paddock slowly filled up with people winding down after a long day. Oscar found himself aimlessly wandering, still unsure how to make his move.

It was now or never.

He couldn’t just keep pining over you in silence.

As he walked past the team lounge, he saw you again, standing by the refreshments table, chatting with a couple of other crew members.

He stopped in his tracks, his palms suddenly sweating. He had promised himself he’d do it tonight, but the closer he got, the more his courage wavered.

You looked over and saw him standing there, looking like he was about to hyperventilate, so you waved him over after your colleagues parted their ways.

“Evening, Oscar!” You smiled as he approached your beverage cart. “Need anything?”

He blinked, panicking. This was it. He had to do it now.

“Hi,” He stammered, stepping closer. “Um. Can I... can we actually talk for a minute?”

You gave him a puzzled but polite smile. “Uh.. Yeah sure, what’s up?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but for some reason, the words just wouldn’t come. He felt like he was about to melt into a puddle of awkwardness right in front of you.

He cleared his throat.

Just ask her, Oscar. Come on.

“I’ve been thinking,” He began, his voice coming out much higher than he intended. “And I just—well, I thought it’d be nice if you and I went out sometime.” He briefly paused.

“You know, like, for dinner. Just the two of us.”

You blinked at him, tilting your head as you processed his words.

He could tell you were trying to figure out if he was joking.

And honestly?

He wasn’t sure either.

But he had already said it, and now there was no turning back.

Your smile softened, but there was a hint of confusion in your eyes. “You mean, like a date?”

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest. His throat felt dry, and all he could do was nod awkwardly.

“Yeah, um... yeah. Like a date,” He mumbled, wishing the floor would just swallow him whole.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now. But, I’m... I’m not great at this stuff.”

There was a long pause.

Oscar's palms were sweating, and he was sure his face was bright red. He was pretty sure he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he could’ve sworn he was going to faint right then and there.

You blinked a few times, and then your lips curled into a slow, surprised smile.

And then, you giggled.

Oscar’s eyes widened. It wasn’t the teasing laugh he’d feared. No, it was sweet. It was genuine. The kind of laugh that made his heart race even more.

“You’re asking me out?” You asked with a quiet, sweet laugh, clearly taken aback.

“Y-yeah, I... I know this is probably a little awkward,” He admitted, feeling himself sink deeper into the ground. “But, I do like you. A lot.”

You blinked at him, and then your cheeks flushed as you took a step back. “Oh my God, Oscar,” You whispered softly, still giggling. “I had no idea! I thought you were just being... well, you know, your usual kind self.”

Oscar’s heart nearly stopped. “Wait, you... you didn’t realize?”

“No,” You said with a laugh, almost shy now. “I had no clue.”

Oscar let out a nervous laugh of his own, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

You smiled warmly. “I am just a bit oblivious…” And there was a soft gleam in your eyes as you met his gaze. “But! This is... really sweet. I didn’t expect this. I think it sounds great.”

Oscar’s heart did a somersault. “So... you’d... go out with me?”

You laughed again, the sound sending a wave of warmth through him. “Of course I would. It sounds like it’ll be fun.”

His grin widened, and before he could even process it, he found himself letting out a small, relieved laugh. “Alright, then. I can text you and we can figure it out.”

You smiled back at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Looking forward to it.”

Oscar stood there for a moment, utterly dazed.

He had done it.

He had actually done it.

And you’d said yes.

It was the best feeling in the world.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ & please lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!!

extra vera’s voice! ALSO A BIG YIPPEEEE for 200 followers :3333 THANKUUUUUU!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[thirteenheavens]

I was wondering if I could request joshua as your brother’s (jeonghan) bestfriend since you were a teen, then he makes a move on you without jeonghan knowing?

(I also want to say i really really like your writing style, and if ever you’re uncomfortable of my request it’s okay you dont have to do it or feel any pressure)

luv ü 🩵🩷

Brothers Bestfriend|| Hong Joshua

Notes: off today so will get some fics out hehe

The tension between you and Joshua has been growing lately, especially since you've noticed his lingering glances and subtle touches when Jeonghan isn't around. One afternoon, Joshua corners you in the kitchen while Jeonghan is out. His eyes are dark with desire as he presses you against the counter.

"I've wanted you for so long," he confesses, his hands resting on your hips. "But I've been holding back because of your brother." Your heart races as Joshua's words sink in. "Joshua, we can't," you whisper, even as your body betrays you by responding to his touch.

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Why not? You know you want me too," he says confidently. "We've always had chemistry." His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "Tell me you don't feel it," he challenges, pulling back slightly to search your face.

"I... I do feel it," you admit quietly, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "But it's wrong. You're my brother's best friend." Joshua smirks, clearly pleased with your response. "All the more reason to keep it a secret," he murmurs, pressing his body against yours. "Just one little taste, and I promise you'll forget all about your brother."

His lips hover dangerously close to yours, waiting for you to make the decision that could change everything between you. Your rational mind screams at you to push Joshua away, but your body is already responding to his proximity. His scent fills your senses - a mix of musk and cologne that makes your head spin.

"Just one kiss," he coaxes, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "Let me show you how good we could be together." His other hand slides up to cup your face, tilting it up towards him. His eyes are dark with desire, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your stomach.

"Please," he whispers, his lips almost touching yours. "Just one." The moment your lips meet, a jolt of electricity shoots through your body. Joshua's kiss is gentle at first, but quickly grows more demanding as he pulls you closer. His tongue slides into your mouth, exploring and claiming you in a way that makes your knees weak. One of his hands tangles in your hair while the other grabs your ass possessively.

You can feel his satisfaction in the way he deepens the kiss, knowing he's finally gotten what he wanted. His hips grind against yours as he pins you against the counter, completely dominating the situation. Joshua's smile is predatory as he looks down at you, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. "That's just a taste," he says, running his thumb over your bottom lip again.

"Now you know what you've been missing," he continues, his eyes glinting with triumph. "And I know you want more." He steps back slightly, but not before giving your ass one final squeeze. "Think about it," he whispers. "You and me, behind your brother's back. The thrill of it all." The front door makes a noise slowly starting to open. You quickly turn to the sink, pretending to wash dishes while Joshua moves to lean against the counter, trying to look casual. Your heart pounds as you hear Jeonghan's footsteps approaching.

"Hey guys, I'm home," he calls out, entering the kitchen with a cheerful smile. "What are you doing?" Joshua greets him with a friendly grin, acting as if nothing happened. "Just hanging out with your sister," he says smoothly. "She was telling me about her latest cooking disaster."

You force a laugh, keeping your eyes focused on the dishes. "Yeah, nothing exciting," you manage to say, hoping Jeonghan doesn't notice your flushed cheeks or disheveled appearance. Jeonghan looks between you and Joshua suspiciously, but doesn't seem to sense anything off. "You two are always up to something," he teases, heading to the fridge.

"I'm starving," he continues, grabbing a bottle of water. "Want to order takeout?" Joshua shrugs, still watching you from the corner of his eye. "Sounds good to me," he says. "But maybe Y-N should cook for us. She needs the practice."

You shoot him a warning glare, knowing exactly what he's implying. Jeonghan chuckles and nods. "Good idea," he agrees, completely oblivious to the tension between you and his best friend. As Jeonghan heads out of the kitchen to grab his phone, Joshua smirks at you, mouthing 'later' silently. Your stomach twists with anticipation and guilt as you realize this is far from over.

[fairestwriting]

Hi, I just found your blog and saw requests are open.

Can I request Riddle, Ruggie and Rook with a reader who avoids using their names (instead using nicknames, last names, "hey you", etc) and their reactions when they discover it's because she has trouble saying words that start with "R" and is self conscious about it?

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

He’s kind of conflicted about it, but not because he immediately clocks it as a strange thing, and that makes him see you as a strange person, or anything like that— No, it has nothing to do with his opinion. But it does have everything to do with Heartslabyul’s mile long list of rules, many of which mention things of etiquette and behavior. Many of which are also very similar, making it so that even Riddle, who’s memorized them, has trouble telling them apart.

Greeting someone and not using their name, isn’t there some rule somewhere that warns against that? He’s pretty sure he’s seen one, maybe, probably… Riddle goes over them in his mind while he’s talking to you, and he almost commits to spacing out, or maybe he almost remembers whatever he was trying to search for in his mind. But his attention is completely taken by the fact that, well… you’re just a really polite, nice person. Going out of your way to have a conversation with him and everything.

…So he can overlook that minor slight, then. Of course. And as time goes on, Riddle genuinely just stops noticing it. Unintentionally, he’s actually a much more accommodating person than he seems. He subconsciously assumes that’s just how you talk to people, and you were so perfectly polite and nice otherwise, he just starts to tune it out. But then, he realizes you do refer to others by their name— You do it with Ace, then with Deuce, one afternoon where the three of you are in the Heartslabyul dorm sipping tea. So Riddle, trying his best and secretly delighted at having a new person to talk to… starts to wonder if you just had some kind of issue with him. And that thought makes him anxious.

It takes him a while of mulling over it to get the courage to ask you. ”Why do you not… use my name?” Genuinely thinking you might have an issue with him or something like it, the poor guy. You’re embarrassed to admit you actually just didn’t want to mess up his name, since you had a speech impediment and all that— And before you could really launch into explaining yourself, you’re stopped by the sight of the tension so visibly dropping from his body, while at the same time, he awkwardly apologizes for the misunderstanding. ”I m-mean, I thought it was…” His face is all red from embarrassment, he shakes his head. ”Ahem… you could’ve just told me that sooner. I wouldn’t judge you for something like that. And if anyone in this dorm dares to, it’ll be off with their head.”

𐙚 Ruggie Bucchi

Doesn’t even bat an eye. ”Hey you” is probably more of a familiar greeting to him than ”Hey Ruggie”, he likes how casual it feels. It’s a little homey even. He returns it with a grin, chiming “Hey yourself!” before he hops onto the seat next to yours. The only opinion he forms from this first impression is that you seem friendly and fun to talk to. In a laid back sort of way even, kind of like himself. And well, he’s happy about that. He thinks you two will get along great.

Ruggie really just won’t think about it unless you specifically bring it up. There’s a limit to how many R sounds you can avoid in conversation before he notices you talk a little differently, sure. But even the way you hesitate for a bit before saying certain words — when you’re trying to think of a substitute — just registers as a quirk of yours. You know, everyone has those little things that make them speak differently from others.

Eventually, it kind of slips, while you’re right in the middle of a conversation with him too. You wince, your entire face feeling hot, and apologize. Ruggie blinks, and asks you what for. You’re left staring at each other, you might even question if he’s actually making fun of you—

”Oh, you say your Rs different. Kinda sounds like a guy I know from my Potions class.” He realizes eventually, and cracks a smile as he points it out. Not really the most tactful way to go about it, sure… he’ll genuinely apologize if that makes you feel uncomfortable, it’s not really his intention. It’s just that it’s so not a big deal to him, it kind of slips his mind that it might be a sore spot for some people. He prompts you to continue talking anyway, and you might try to explain yourself or something like it, your own self-consciousness pressuring you— But even if you’re embarrassed by the whole thing, Ruggie just continues to smile, relaxed as ever. ”Nah, really, keep talking. Why’d I mind that? It’s just how you speak, shishi.”

𐙚 Rook Hunt

Rook notices and takes note of it, going as far as to file it away in his mind— But he also does with every single other quirk in every single interesting person he meets. It’s not something that he doesn’t see, but it’s also not something he’s going to be thinking about that much. At least while he doesn’t know much more about you, his mind couldn’t be further away from hyperfixating in such a small detail. He just wants to get to know you better, because you’re interesting, because there’s a certain type of beauty to you, unrelated but not entirely to your speech — Of course, since that’s an important part of anyone’s selfhood.

And when it comes to interesting people he knows, Rook likes to listen to them as they talk… so it won’t be too long until he notices there’s a little bit of an unusual feel to your speech. You seem to circumvent saying certain words, and his own name is included in that list. He wonders why. The look you get on your face feels like it hints at it being more than just the way you talk.

Honestly, he probably will just realize what’s going on sooner or later. Maybe sooner than later. There’s a ton of other reasons why he finds you interesting, the speech thing is just a detail in a massive picture, and Rook is all about noticing details. Even if you avoid pronouncing any word with an R sound in it at all, after some time, he’s just estimated that you pronounce them differently by listening to how you say other words. And he won’t say a thing about it, though if you did ask what he thought about it, he’d probably say it’s just part of your own unique type of beautiful, or something like that.

He won’t really react at all if you “slip up”, or even if you decide to be upfront with him about it. “Non, Mademoiselle, there is no need for all that. I’d love to hear the rest of what you have to say, regardless of how it’s said.” He smiles at you, from ear to ear, that very Rook-like knowing smile that lets you know there’s no element of surprise to him in this. It might feel embarrassing at first, suddenly being aware that he’s just… known, for this whole time. And like Ruggie, he’ll apologize if his words come across as insensitive in any way, of course, the last thing he wants is for you to feel bad about yourself in any way! He definitely won’t hold back on reassuring you that the way you speak is not and will never be something he sees as bad or embarrassing, about how it’s beautiful in its own way, you know how it goes—It’s Rook. He does, however, really want to hear you say his name now that his theory is confirmed… but that’s just his curiosity, and he won’t pressure you to do it, of course.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[chalantzah]

FRIENDLY FIRE

oneshot requested by : @caramia-mara

´when every chronically online persons two worlds collide - collab stream´

the stream starts like most slushynoobz chaos: martin in the middle of an unhinged monologue and hamzah pretending he doesn’t know either of you.

“hello stream,” martin says, already waving the camera around like it’s a documentary film, “today is a milestone. maybe even a moment in history. she’s here. not a discord bubble. not a voice on a headset. god is a woman and she is real.”

you’re already seated, sipping something cold, perfectly unbothered. you offer the camera an enthusiastic grin to match martins energy back to him.

“you’re doing a lot, too much” you say.

“it’s deserved,” martin replies, shaking his head and taking a bow to you and all your apparent glory.

“you have no idea how long chat’s been waiting for this.”

“i’m literally just here to play mario party.”

“sure,” he says. “sure you are.”

"what does that even mean?" you laugh off to the side,

hamzah mutters, “okay, stream peaked. turn it off.”

you glance over with an eyebrow raise. “well hello to you too.”

“i said hi earlier.”

“saying ‘yo’ while staring at your phone doesn’t count.” you fight back, slightly joking but also not, confused by hamzahs genuine attitude,

“so you wanna argue, or play the game?” he snaps instantly.

he hasn’t looked at you once since you sat down, which would maybe mean something if he didn’t rearrange the entire living room setup this morning to make sure you had the “comfiest spot.” (his words. muttered. while looking at the floor.)

martin’s already mugging for the camera. twitch chat is a wall of chaos.

chat: “LMAO HAMZAH CANNOTTTTT MAKE EYE CONTACT”“he’s so weird rn i love it”“the way she’s just chill about it tho?? queen”"girl is he bothering you?"

the game boots up. martin claims he’s choosing teams at random, but somehow you end up seated between them. naturally. you don’t mind. the energy’s easy, and you’ve streamed with them enough to know the rhythm by heart.:

martin’s ongoing commentary, hamzah’s casual insults, the chat’s perpetual meltdown. it’s a specific dynamic. it works.

but in person, it’s a little different. realer. better.

especially when hamzah keeps doing things like passing you the exact brand of drink you mentioned offhand, mid conversation once, months ago.

you take it without making a big deal out of it. “you remembered this?”

he shrugs. “you talk a lot.”

“so do you. and i don’t remember your favorite drink.” you tilt your head with a chuckle.

“mine’s easier.” he replies in monotone.

“is it?”

he doesn’t reply, which is fine. martin is already throwing a look at the camera, as if he’s saying "did you see that too?"

chat:“the way he puts on this whole non chalant persona just to ruin it by specifically buying her favorite brand of mf WATER.”“this is literally a romcom but he thinks he’s the cool one lmao”“chat never forgets”

you’re winning. casually. just enough to keep the banter alive. hamzah’s competitive, but quietly. not trash-talking you loud like martin, just relentless.

but today, he keeps getting distracte, missing easy jumps, second guessing timing, adjusting his headset even though it’s completely fine and basically glued onto his head.

at one point of the stream, you flinch at an unexpected pop up in the game, more from the sound than anything on the actual screen. but before you can even register it, there’s a hand on your shoulder.

his.

just briefly. like muscle memory. like he forgot the context and thought he was alone. it’s gone in a second.

you turn your head toward him, then regretting it, thinking maybe you should've pretended to ignore it.

he doesn’t look back, just feels you turn.. “you jumped.”

“you put your hand me.” you recall.

“reflex.” he snaps

“it’s mario party.”

“you flinched.”

you lean back slightly, amused with a chuckle. “you good?”

“great,” he says, shrugging his shoulder as if he didn't just act obnoxious and slightly out of character.

martin actually pauses the game. “nah. pause. run that back. did anyone else see that?”

chat definitely saw it.

chat: “I have some innapropriate things to say about protective hamzah.” “hamzah’s version of ‘reflex’ is concerningly soft” “blink twice if you’re repressing and ignoring feelings bro”

the game resumes. martin is doing everything short of narrating your interactions like a national geographic special. chat’s theories have just multiplied after this stream, and martins livestream call-out.

you just keep playing. you’re used to hamzah being.. a little strange. not like this, but the general branding of it.

later, somewhere between rounds, martin throws a look between the two of you and goes, “so… is this how it’s gonna be the whole stream, or are we atleast try to acknowledging what’s happening?”

“what’s happening,” you echo, straight-faced, as you roll your lips into your mouth.

hamzah just shakes his head, doesn’t even pretend to be subtle.

“so nothing’s happening?” martin reverts.

“exactly,” both you and hamzah say in sync, bluntly.

it’s almost impressive, the perfect harmony, with the energy of two people who have absolutely talked for seven hours straight at 2 a.m playing video games. and will absolutely decide to never to talk about those seven hours again.

martin leans forward, hands clasped like a therapist about to ask a life-ruining question. “you guys practiced that or…”

you and hamzah say “no” at the exact same time.

chat: “THEY’RE LIKE THE SAME PERSON IT’S CREEPY” “hamzah’s whole persona with her is ‘i don’t care’ while deeply caring” “she’s just chilling and he’s melting down quietly”

the rest of the stream runs like that- tense in a way no one will admit to, but it makes the air feel thicker by the second,

hamzah’s less dismissive now, but not less present. he keeps glancing your way and catching himself. every time you laugh, chat lights up. every time he says something under his breath and you catch it, chat goes even more nuclear.

the cameras eventually go off. the room is quieter without the lights.

you stretch, unplug your mic, and glance down at hamzah, who’s still fiddling with his controller like it didn’t glitch out an hour ago.

“fun stream,” you say, casually.

he nods. “yeah.”

his foot taps yours as you walk past. not hard. not even on purpose, probably.

but you feel it.

you don’t say anything.

he doesn’t either.

but you’re both thinking the same thing:

this is definitely not going to blow over quietly.

and chat? chat’s already writing the sequel in the comments, you both are sure going to have a joyful time explaining yourselves to twitter later.

view request here

idk how to feel about this, will probs be edited tomorrow!! it honestly may be tooooo angsty and not enough fluff so it kinda gets me mad..

taglist : @shegiaa @cherrieluvrr @caramia-mara @marixoa @valluvsu @78kate-blog @pictureperfectblue @aalanahh0 @noturbabe22 @martiniibluee07 @mopslusher @ladylincoln @officialthrad @urfavblonde27 @infinitefireflies @notmeee3 @slicdfo0t @beybeys-world

[coofsbear]

Bucky Barnes Headcanons

A/N: Hi everyone! I am a LONGG time reader, first time poster here! I'm currently DEEP in my Bucky/ Marvel rewatching phase, so here are some random head canons i've thought of recently! Enjoy <33

Random Headcanons:

He forgets English 😭 Sometimes, Bucky forgets English mid-sentence because he was forced to speak Russian for so long. I also think Nat would totally translate him for everyone.

Avid knitter Bucky picks up knitting because the repetitive motion helps calm his mind. Now, everyone has a sweater whether they asked for one or not. Sam’s would have little embroidered wings (we love u grandma bucky)!!

Soft hand(s) For someone who’s fought his whole life, his right hand is ridiculously soft. He takes care of it like it’s the only part of him that’s his.

Can't sleep in silence Hydra made him hyper-aware of silence, so he actually sleeps best when there’s some kind of background noise—rain, a fan, soft music. Anything but complete quiet.

Always makes sure you get home safely! Even if it’s just a casual hangout, Bucky will text to make sure you got home okay. If you don’t respond, he will show up. Or even better, he will walk/drive you home.

Sarcasm- bad. If he likes you, he’ll give you the driest, most deadpan responses, and you just have to figure out whether he’s messing with you.

Physical touch If someone rubs his back or runs fingers through his hair, he melts. He doesn’t even know why, but it grounds him in a way nothing else does.

He follows you around EVERYWHERE He never really learned how to just exist without orders, so he sometimes follows people around like a lost puppy.

Food insecurity Hydra only gave him bland, functional food—just enough to keep him alive. He never got to enjoy eating. After getting free, he starts craving real food, but struggles with eating too fast or hoarding food without realising it.

Hates sudden movement He flinches at sudden touch, especially if it’s from behind. He hates being grabbed, even if it’s friendly.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed these! I will make more, and if you have any requests please feel free to send them through!!!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Hello! I'm Anon who requested the Spiderman!Anakin Headcannons. I was wondering if you could make a fanfic about him? 👉👈(Because ever since I read those headcannons he lives rent-free in my mind.)

Only if you feel comfortable and if you have the time, of course.

Bye~

PAIRING: nerd!spiderman!anakin x reader

City you lived in buzzed faintly in the distance as you made your way home after work, the cool night air nipping at your soft skin. The streets were quiet—eerily so—except for the occasional sound of a car rushing by or a distant siren wailing. You tried to ignore the tingling in your gut, the sense that something—or someone—was watching. Closely. Intensely. Purposely

You turned a corner, faint light from a streetlamp casting long shadows along the brick walls, and that was the moment you heard it.

“Shouldn’t a pretty thing like you be home by now?”

The voice was playful, dripping with charm and laced with a grin you could almost feel. You stopped in your tracks, glancing around, heartbeat quickening.

“Up here.”

Your gaze snapped up, and there he was, of course. Your favorite, friendly neighbor Spider-Man. Hanging upside down from a fire escape, his body silhouetted against the dark sky, one hand gripping his web while the other hung loosely at his side.

“Late-night strolls can be dangerous,” he teased, the lenses of his mask tilting slightly as if he was narrowing his eyes. “Lucky for you, I’m here to save the day—or, you know, just say hi.”

“But you really should stop making this a habit,” he continued when you didn't say anything, too stunned to speak much when his tone was turning to more of a teasing one yet with softer undertones than usual. Like he was genuinely, really concerned.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’m fine. It’s not like you aren’t always watching anyway.”

“True,” he admitted, tilting his head so casually. “Guess that makes me your personal guardian angel.”

His voice dipped lower, almost to a purr, to which you swallowed hard. Your heart beat a little too fast in your chest as he hung there, relaxed and so completely at ease.

“You really think you’re that charming?” you muttered, trying to keep the voice steady.

He didn’t answer right away, but you saw his hand flex on the web he was clinging to, grip tightening as if he were holding back. “You tell me,” he said, words slowly leaving his mouth.

You took a step closer, the space between you shrinking until you could see the faint outline of his lips beneath the mask. The memories of the last time he saved you—of the way he looked at you, spoke to you, even with the mask on—flooded your mind back, making your cheeks burn. This is what you meant by saying you have a weird relationship with spiderman. All the teasing, bickering back and forth, his appearance when you don't need him, his flirtation, even made you think a lot of thoughts..

“God, you never shut up,” you muttered, and before you could lose your nerve, you reached up and tugged down the edge of his mask.

His lips were soft—warm, inviting, pretty—and you leaned in, pressing your own lips to his before he could say or do anything. It wasn’t hesitant or shy. It was bold, almost desperate, and you felt the way his breath caught in his throat as he froze for half a second before he actually kissed you back.

The world around you melted away as his lips moved against yours, slow and gentle, like he wanted to memorize the taste of you. The gloved hand brushed against your jaw, or tried to from his position, and you felt his thumb stroke your skin, sending more sparks down your spine.

When you finally pulled back, his breathing was much heavier, and you could feel the sudden warmth radiating off him even from inches away.

“You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, voice lower, raspier, lips swollen from the kiss

“Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.”

He huffed a soft laugh, but there was no denying the way his gaze lingered on you, body tense as if he was holding himself back.

“G-get home safe,” he called, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving you standing there, breathless and trembling, taste of him still lingering on your lips.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @nikiloveshayden

[oceansssblue]

Pantie thief silco

🤣 here goes a little fun one.

Xx, Sky.

(Still taking silco requests, really easy rules in my profile)

PANTIE THIEF – SILCO/READER

WARNINGS: SILCO STEALING UNDERWARE LIKE A CREEP, ALCOHOL. 💖

Silco would'nt indulge anyone else like this. He would'nt allow any of his men the pleasure of getting wasted at the expense of his alcohol; and he wouldn't have the decency to take care of anyone else but you. Like Jinx, you had managed to slip undetected through his carefully constructed defenses all the way into his heart; and now, Silco finds himself carrying an armfull of a very drunk woman up the stairs towards his bedroom.

The two of you aren't together. Yet. Though Silco is perfectly aware of his feelings towards you, and he trusts you as much as he thinks he is able to trust anyone at this point in his life, he is still somewhat hesitant to make a move. Both because he isn't sure about your own feelings towards him and because he doesn't really... He doesn't really do this. Date –more than a casual fuck–. Have a partner. He doesn't like stepping into the unknown; so he's got no rush.

It's still clear the relationship between you isn't exactly just friendly. There's this energy simmering below the surface; this... carefull expectancy. Rumours, too; as Silco's behaviour around you hasn't been unnoticed either. It can't be; for the second time this month, he's carrying you like a ragdoll up to his bedroom, grunting under his breath at the effort of climbing the creaky stairs with the aditional weight on his knees.

As soon as he sets you down on his bed, you start clawing your clothes off; a task amusingly difficult for your half sleeping, half drunk state. Silco tries not to watch your grumpy effort to get under the soft covers; but it's not an easy thing to do. He's hard –the first glimpse of your smooth naked skin already enough– and he's atracted to you. And you're now completely naked in his bed, twisting around so that you can sink your face into the pillow and inhale. You mumble and sigh, muscles relaxing under the covers, and Silco throbs at the knowledge that is his scent what caused that. Or a promise of a good night's rest.

You fall asleep, and Silco lingers in the bedroom picking up the disaray of your clothes from the floor and putting them into a pile to ease the headache you'll surely have tomorrow. He hovers in place when his fingers close around a black, lacy, pantie; groaning at the thought of seeing you in it. It's almost too pretty to belong to the Underground. He wonders if you only use it on special ocasions –he doubts it's comfortable to wear in any of your spy misions–; and if that's the case, why is he the only man to be lucky to see it. Perhaps you really weren't waiting for anyone else.

He's not proud of it –he doesn't feel guilty either, though, after all, you're invading his space– but he takes it. He pushes it into the safe private darkness of his pocket and leaves the room, resigned to spend the night twisting around in the sofa of his office.

The pounding headache you wake up with the next day quickly reminds you of the –admitedly– too large amount of alcohol you had ingested the night before. You groan all the way through getting dressed, frowning at not finding your underware but too tired to worry about it. You exchange a few words with Silco on your way out –relieved and gratefull that he had been considerate enough to let you crash in his private rooms once again and mortified at the same time–, and return home to shower and go about your day.

You find out all about the dissapearance of the one particular item of your clothing a few days after that. It's just another working day, and you're leaving a stack of business papers on the drawer of Silco's desk when a bunch of suspicously familiar lace calls your attention. Surprised and confused, you grab the fabric and examin it; confirming your initial suspition. It is your pantie. What the hell is Silco doing with this?

As if summoned by your thoughts, Silco chooses that exact moment to pop out of his bedroom, walking down the stairs towards his office in a dark wine red shirt that makes your mouth water. His eyes –still holding a trace of sleep–, inmediately fall upon you; eyebrow silently arching in question at your unexpected visit.

You raise up your hand to show him your discovery with an expectant pop of your hip to the side. Silco's expresion morphs from surprise to recognition to a sort of careless guiltiness. He shrugs as if this were a daily occurence –and a totally normal thing– and you can't help but laugh.

"You fuckin' sociopath" you chuckle while he approaches you. "I was wondering where the hell did my underware go".

Silco stops right in front of you and hums uncomitedly.

"You have a tendency of getting naked when drunk, it seems" he replies with a deep, calm tone.

You tilt your head to study him.

"If you liked me, you could have just told me, you know" you decide to risk it, though you hate to be vulnerable. "Surely it isn't a secret I have a crush on you by now".

Silco can't mask the sincere surprise that travels through his face quick enough. He smirks, then, a single side tug of his lips that shouldn't look that attractive –but it does–.

"I see" his eyes roam through your figure in a sugestive way with undeniable interest. "Come back to my office after work then, darling, and I shall compensate you for my cruel robbery".

The promise of a good time with this man sends a rush of excitement through your veins; and you give him a single firm nod with a victorious grin on your face.

THE END.

[rhiannonsknife]

been thinking about a college au where we‘re Jackie’s roommate. she’s the outgoing and extroverted type and tries to convert her introverted roommate to her lifestyle.

one day, she takes us to a frat party and sees us getting hit on. while she tries so hard to be happy about it, she cant help but feel jealous. its like a switch had been flipped, since that moment, she’s been acting different around us. kinda like she’s possessive over us

i’m finally getting some requests done again!! thank you for your patience anon! <3

ever since the party, jackie has been acting odd, to say the least. you didn’t really notice it at first; just a few offhand comments or lingering looks that seemed a little more pointed than usual.

it started a few nights back at the frat house. jackie, your much more outgoing, golden-girl-esque roommate, had finally convinced you to go. “you can’t spend your entire college life cooped up in the dorm,” she’d said, practically dragging you into her world of beer pong, thumping music, and spaces too crowded and loud for your personal liking.

the party was overwhelming at first, but jackie stayed close, introducing you to her friends, handing you drinks, and making sure you didn’t feel completely out of place. somewhere along the line, though, she got swept up in a conversation across the room, leaving you alone. that was when he showed up: a guy from one of your classes, charming and overly confident, leaning against the counter as he struck up a conversation. he was harmless, really, but that didn’t stop jackie’s gaze from snapping over the moment she saw you talking to him.

you remember the way her smile dropped, the way her laughter dulled as she watched from a distance.

you didn’t think much of it. he seemed friendly enough as you spoke, though his compliments started to feel a little too persistent, his eyes lingering a little too long. you were trying to figure out how to politely excuse yourself when jackie appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“there you are!” she said brightly, her arm sliding around your waist with casual familiarity. “sorry to interrupt, but i need to steal this one for a sec. you know how it is!”

before he could protest, she was steering you away already, her grip firm but not rough.

for the rest of the night, jackie had been practically glued to your side. anytime you tried to drift away, even for a drink or a moment of quiet, she was there: her arm found its place around your shoulders, fingers brushing your collarbone as if to silently remind you of her presence.

days later, and her uncharacteristic behavior hasn’t changed one bit.

“who was that guy, anyway?” she asks casually one afternoon.

you glance up, confused. “who?”

“that guy at the party. the one who was all over you?”

“oh, him,” you say, shrugging. “just some guy from class. he wasn’t ‘all over me’!”

jackie snorts. “oh please. he was practically drooling!”

you roll your eyes and go back to your own work, but you can feel her watching you the entire time.

then there are the other things as well: small, subtle shifts in the way she acts around you. jackie is always sitting closer than she used to, always finding an excuse to touch your arm or brush against you. she doesn’t invite you out to parties as often anymore, preferring quiet nights in where it’s just the two of you. any time someone else so much as looks at you for too long, jackie finds a way to insert herself into the situation.

last night, when you were watching a movie together, jackie had thrown a blanket over both of you, her head resting on your shoulder by the end of it. her voice had been soft as she asked if you were cold, tucking the blanket tighter around you before you could even answer.

or this morning, when she poured you coffee without asking, placing it in front of you with a small smile and an offhand comment about how you like it. it was such a small thing, but it made your chest ache in a way that felt both comforting and simultaneously terrifying.

you’re not sure what’s changed or why jackie is suddenly acting this way, but the possessiveness becomes impossible to ignore.

it all comes to a head one night when you’re sitting on the couch in your dorm, reading a book while jackie flips through a magazine beside you. the room is quiet except for the faint hum of music from someone’s stereo down the hall, but the air feels heavy, charged with something unspoken.

“hey,” jackie says suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence. you glance up to find her looking at you already.

“yeah?”

she hesitates, tapping her fingers against the mattress. “do you…like him?”

“who?”

“that guy,” she says, the words coming out faster now, like she’s been holding them in for days. “from the party. the one who was…well, you know”

you blink at her, caught off guard by the question. you thought jackie had moved past this by now. “not really,” you admit. “he seemed nice, but i barely know him”

jackie doesn’t look satisfied with that answer. in fact, she frowns, her gaze dropping to the magazine in her lap. “good,” she mutters under her breath, so quietly you almost don’t catch it.

“what?”

“nothing,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “it’s just…i don’t think he’s your type”

you raise a brow, both amused and confused. “and you know my type?”

jackie leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she holds your gaze. “yeah, i think i do”

your heart stutters and for a moment, neither of you speaks. her eyes flicker down to your lips before darting back up, and you realize with a jolt that the space between you suddenly feels impossibly small.

“jackie…”

“i don’t like seeing you with guys like that,” she interrupts, “i know i don’t have a right to feel that way, but i do”

it’s like all the little moments, the lingering touches, the possessive looks, the sudden shift in her behavior, suddenly click into place.

“you’re jealous,” you say. it was supposed to be a question but it doesn’t come out as one.

she flinches, then laughs softly, though there’s no humor in it. “i just don’t want to share you,” she tells you. “not with anyone”

[elliespassagerprincess]

Can you do smt for abby with the song new magic wand by Tyler the creator?

I love her puppy eyes and muscles so much 🥺

Also, i love obsessive women so

New Magic Wand - abby anderson x reader

hi anon!! fictional obsessive women are so hot ughhhhhhhh. i hope you enjoy:) also abby in this pic??? i love her.

this story is based off the song new magic wand by tyler the creator. If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: dark themes, obsession, violence, psychological tension

Summary: Abby has never been good at letting things go. And she sure as hell isn't letting go of you.

Masterlist

You met Abby during a supply run in Jackson. Just two soldiers assigned to the same patrol, nothing special. But there was something about you—your laugh, maybe. The way you didn’t flinch when she barked orders. The way you looked at the world like it hadn’t completely fallen apart.

That was two months ago.

Now, she watches you from the shadows.

She doesn’t mean to. At first, it was casual. Coincidental. A walk past the stables. Lingering near the training yard. Asking around. But then she saw you with someone else. That girl—Mia, from the medbay. Too close. Touching your wrist. Whispering.

Abby’s jaw locked so tight her molars ached.

She waited. Quiet. Calculating.

She told herself you weren’t hers. But that wasn’t true. Not really.

You were hers. You just didn’t know it yet.

“She’s gonna be dead, I just got a magic wand.”

You started noticing strange things.

Your door left slightly ajar when you knew you closed it. The sweater you thought you lost suddenly reappearing on your cot. A shadow behind you in the glass of the dining hall. At first, you brushed it off. The world was full of paranoia and trauma—maybe it was just stress.

Then Mia disappeared.

She never showed up to her shift. Her bunk was untouched. No note. No signs of struggle.

You asked questions. Abby watched you from across the rec room as you begged the search party to look further. No one had the energy to care. People disappeared sometimes.

But Abby cared.

Abby had taken care of the problem.

She didn't use a "magic wand"—just her hands. Just enough pressure. She didn’t scream. Abby was proud of that. No mess. No loose ends.

She thought you'd notice her now. You didn’t.

You started pulling away. Spending more time alone. Your smile—her favorite thing about you—began to dim. She hated that. Hated that you didn’t know she was trying to protect you.

Abby tried to get closer. Leaving you small things. A can of your favorite peaches. A leather glove you mentioned needing. You thanked her, politely.

But not the way she wanted.

“I need to get her out the picture, she’s really fucking up my frame.”

Abby started dreaming about you. In those dreams, you kissed her like you meant it. You let her hold you. You begged her to stay. Woke up to soaked sheets and a clenched jaw.

Reality was uglier. You barely looked at her now. You were scared—she could see it in your eyes. That made her blood boil and her stomach twist.

It was that fucking patrol leader next.

Sergio.

Too friendly. Too smug. Too willing to walk next to you, show you how to hold a better grip on your rifle.

Abby followed him. Took his knee out behind the stables. Broke his arm and left him in the snow. Said she found him that way.

It wasn’t about jealousy, she told herself. It was about clarity. You and her—there was no room for anyone else in the picture.

They were ruining the shot. The life she could see so clearly with you.

She’d fix it.

“I wanna be found, passenger in your car.”

You knew it by the fourth disappearance. This wasn’t just coincidence. Someone was doing this.

Someone was doing this for you.

That’s when you found the journal.

Hidden under the floorboard in the old stables. Pages and pages of your name. Drawings of your face. A lock of your hair taped to the corner of a page. Abby’s messy handwriting scrawled beneath every entry:

“I saw her smile today. I think she smiled at me.”

“She wore her green coat. It suits her. She looked cold—I should bring her another.”

“She looked at her again. I want to rip her throat out.”

“She's mine. She just doesn't understand yet.”

Your breath caught. She was watching you. All this time.

“You got a new friend, it hurts. I’ll make you one, I’ll make you one.”

You confronted her. Cornered her in the greenhouse, where no one else went anymore.

"Abby," you said, voice trembling. "What the fuck did you do?"

She didn’t deny it. Just looked at you like she always had—like you were the sun burning through her skull.

“I protected you,” she said. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did.”

“You killed them,” you whispered.

She stepped closer. You flinched. That hurt her—cut deep.

“I’d do it again,” Abby murmured, voice soft and low. “I’d do anything for you.”

You should’ve run. You should’ve screamed.

But something in her eyes—something fractured and sincere—rooted you in place.

She reached out, calloused fingers brushing your cheek. You didn’t move.

"You don’t have to be scared," she whispered. "I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want you to see. We can be good, you and me."

And despite everything—the deaths, the obsession, the blood on her hands—your heart stuttered.

Because some broken, desperate part of you wanted to believe her.

Wanted to believe you could be loved that completely.

“Please don’t leave me now.”

Abby kept you in a cabin miles from Jackson. Safe. Stocked. Secluded. A place where no one could come between you.

She made you tea. Lit the fireplace. Spoke softly. Touched you like you were made of glass.

You tried to run once. She found you hours later, frostbitten and sobbing.

She carried you back. Wrapped you in blankets. Kissed your forehead.

“You don’t get it,” she murmured against your skin. “You’re all I have left.”

And eventually...you stopped fighting. Let her touch linger. Let her hold you at night.

You told yourself it was survival. But when she kissed you the first time, your lips parted.

Not in protest.

But in surrender.

[miniaturecollectiveendermen]

hihi! hope you’re doing well :)

i was wondering if you could write headcannons for phoenix drop high Gene, Garroth & Blaze with a popular reader? like reader is well known in phoenix drop high, super energetic, kind and captain/leader of a big sports team/club? maybe just general headcannons (including how the two get together?)

tysm <33

A/N: i had a lot of fun writing this!! im sorry it took a while, i was sick when the request was sent and got sick again in the middle of writing im good now - for the most part at least

i hope you enjoy read this! :3

!! WARNINGS !! i feel like PDH!gene needs a warning of his own, gn!reader, you/your pronouns used

Gene: 

You were the volleyball club president, the cheery type who had a knack for making friends.

Gene is in no way fond of the popular types; so then why did you catch his attention? 

Why does his heartbeat pick up when he sees you smile, when he hears your laugh?

Gene is a selfish person, he takes what he wants - and in this case he wants you.

He considered trying to find something to blackmail you with, and get you to join the shadowknights.

But you always had people around you, and everyone knew what he was like, so there was no way they'd let him pull you away for a private conversation. 

But he found himself with the perfect opportunity one day after school. 

Your teammates had other obligations they needed to attend to; this left you to put away the equipment. 

He dismissed Sasha and Zenix (mainly Zenix as he had a tendency to speak without thinking). 

He approached you, and offered to help clean up. 

It was almost unnerving how nice he was being - you may have been a friendly person but you weren't stupid. you knew he was planning something.

You chose to be nice to him, but you kept your guard up. 

Time passes and you guys finish cleaning up, you say goodbye to Gene, and leave. 

Only after you leave does he realize he didn't even bring up you joining the shadow-knights. 

He just spent time with you, talking and hanging out like you were old friends. 

This is the first thing that made him question his plan.

PDH gene is by no means a good person - but even he has some morals. 

After this you would say hello to him in passing and make small talk - again acting like you two had been friends for years. 

You were just too sweet, and it chipped away at him. 

Eventually he completely forgot about forcing you to join the shadowknights. 

Although you weren't a shadowknight, you were friends. 

And not just with him, you were nice to Sasha and Zenix too. 

Sasha had gotten rather attached to you, and although Zenix would rather die than admit it - he quite liked having you around. 

Of course other people questioned why someone as sweet as you would be friends with them. Were you being forced?

you would always respond with “they're actually really nice” - Which no one believed of course.

But Gene quickly shut down all the questions, and no one really wanted to get on his bad side; so they stopped asking you about it.

Your relationship with Gene slowly changed, you two never acknowledged it.

but you both knew you weren't just “friends” anymore. 

Gene isn't the type to be explicitly romantic or loud with his affections - he's more subtle about it. 

He asked you out in a very casual way - you two were hanging out at his house. 

You were scrolling on your phone absentmindedly while he was playing a game, when he suddenly asked:

“Do you wanna go to the coffee shop this weekend?” “Sure!” “It's a date then.” 

No beating around the bush with this man. 

It's an interesting dynamic between you two - but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

Garroth: 

Garroth is a naturally charismatic and sociable person.

This, along with him being the baseball team captain, meant it was only natural for Garroth to be well acquainted with other sports captains. 

You were the track and field team captain. 

Much like Garroth you were charming and peppy, and had a tendency to naturally draw people to you. 

On the first day of the new school year, you were tending to the track and field club’s stand. 

Some other club leaders asked for your help; because of this a handful of nearby freshmen got the impression that you were helping with everything, and not just your own stand. 

You were happy to help, but you didn't anticipate being suddenly surrounded by a large group of over-excited freshmen who kept talking over each other.

You tried to help them all, but it was getting overwhelming.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Garroth redirected the freshmen to the mentors - he also offered to help out with the track and field stand. 

He wasn't very busy with the other members tending to the baseball stand.

You gladly accepted his help - although you and Garroth were friendly before this, you weren't very close.

After this day your friendship blossomed; the two of you would often spend free time together and even help each other with team captain responsibilities.

If either of you had a match, the other would be sure to come and cheer. 

With the two of you being as popular as you were, it was only inevitable for rumors to start about you two dating.

Garroth brushed it off and acted as though he wasn't affected by the silly rumors - but that wasn't really the case.

Truthfully he had been harboring feelings for you for some time, and these rumors gave him a chance to see how you'd react to the idea of you two dating. 

He did sometimes flirt with you, but played it off as a joke causing you to respond with joking flirtation of your own (was it really a joke tho). 

When you didn't seem opposed to the idea, his heart jumped out of his chest.

He took the first chance he got and asked you out. 

He's so cute guys I love him.

Blaze: 

You had been the tennis team captain for over a year - your popularity grew along with the tennis club as you led the team to win many matches.

had been receiving complaints by team members about a group of werewolves that kept stealing tennis balls in the middle of matches.

A few lost balls wouldn't be much of a problem, but they kept doing this until the players had none left.

You knew if you went to the werewolves responsible yourself the chances of them listening to you were little.

So you opted to go directly to the principal - so far she seemed a lot more competent than the previous principal, so you had hoped she'd be able to help you.

But these hopes were quickly diminished when she said she couldn't intervene as it was a “werewolf issue”.

You argued it was affecting the tennis club members who were human and meif'wa as well.

But she made some vague excuse about having a meeting and told you to talk to the werewolf studies teacher about it. 

After having any and all hope in the new principal destroyed, you went off to find the werewolf studies teacher.

When you explained the situation to him he informed you that this was the responsibility of the “alpha” and he couldn't do much.

By this point you were getting very frustrated - you had to run all over the school to find someone to help, only for them to tell you that they couldn't do anything. 

To your relief you were informed that the werewolf alpha was Aphmau (you decided to not ask why a human was the werewolf alpha). 

You weren't super close with Aphmau, but you met her once when you and Katelyn were playing tennis - you’d had some friendly interactions since and you had hoped that she wouldn't dismiss you like the last two people.

You managed to find her as she was talking to a red haired werewolf - you had seen him around a few times. His name was Blaze if you remembered correctly.

She was friendly as usual when you approached her, but you noticed she seemed more tired and even a bit frazzled.

You explained the situation to her and she was very understanding, but you could see that just thinking about handling this made her look even more tired.

That's when Blaze interrupted and said he was happy to help, as aphmau had to focus on choosing an alpha male - whatever that means.

You were ecstatic, after all that running around you finally found someone who could help.

Blaze was very sweet- and although he was a tad clueless when it came to certain things, he certainly had the spirit.

You helped Blaze find the responsible werewolves and at first he was explaining to them that they shouldn't steal things that don't belong to them. 

However after they were not very receptive to this, he took a more,, “hands on” approach.

You knew after going to this school for some time that werewolves would often solve conflict by fighting.

But you didn't expect blaze to throw the werewolves out the nearest window and then jump out after them??? 

You just wanted your team members to be able to practice in peace.. How did this happen-?

By the time that you reached downstairs where they were, the group of werewolves were standing in front of Blaze, looking down silently.

Blaze was grinning and looked very proud of himself - he seemed to be waiting for you to tell him he did a good job.

You didn't expect a 6’3 werewolf to be so.. Cute? 

You thanked him for his help and told him he was welcome to play with the tennis team whenever he pleased.

In the following weeks your friendship grew - he would join your practice in his free time. 

Although when he did it was mostly him chasing after the ball and forgetting he's supposed to hit it with the racket. 

As you grew closer, Blaze started noticing that his feelings towards you were changing. 

He always thought you were rather cute but he didnt think too deeply about it. 

But his desire to be around you grew.

subtlety isn't Blaze’s strong suit - the second he realizes he has a crush on someone, he starts following them around everywhere and his affection grows tenfold. 

He's a naturally affectionate person towards his loved ones, but you noticed that it's different with you. 

One day you decide to ask him about it and he just looks at you and just flat out confesses.

He was under the impression that he was being quite obvious. 

He's so <3333

I love him 

Immensely

[joaosnovia]

Can you do one of kenan liking reader who’s a family friend and can it be like reader is moving to Turin because she’s and influencer so she got a nice apartment and has to set up and kenan finds out by his mom and dad so he uses that to get closer to her (before he was shy) and then the end can be all you

❦ - match made in turin.

summary:: kenan has always had a crush on you but distance always held him back. you finally moved to turin, leaving a huge surprise.

warnings:: uhh none?

writers notes:: i have sm kenan requests i love it

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

kenan yildiz had a crush.

a long, painfully obvious, yet entirely unspoken crush.

it had started when he was younger, back when you were just ‘a family friend’, someone he saw at gatherings, during summer vacations, or whenever your families crossed paths. back then, he’d been too shy to talk to you much. and even now, despite growing older, despite playing for one of the biggest clubs in italy, despite all the confidence he had on the pitch, when it came to you, kenan still found himself fumbling.

which was why, when he found out you were moving to turin, it was from his parents and not you.

‘did you hear?’ his mother had said over dinner, her voice casual, unaware of how her words would completely upend kenan’s night. ‘she’s moving here. got a new place and everything. apparently, she’s arriving next week.’

kenan, mid bite, nearly choked. he coughed, reaching for his water as his dad chuckled.

‘you alright?’ his dad asked, though the amused look in his eyes made kenan suspect he knew exactly what was going on in his head.

his mom continued, oblivious. ‘i told her to let us know if she needs anything. she’ll probably need help setting up the apartment.’

kenan was barely listening at this point. all he could think about was that you were moving here. to his city. for the first time, he wouldn’t have to wait for random family gatherings or holidays to see you—you’d be here, close, a part of his everyday life.

and maybe, just maybe, this was the excuse he needed to finally do something about this crush he’d been harboring for years.

when you landed in turin, you barely had time to breathe before your phone lit up with a message from kenan.

kenan: heard you moved in today. need help with anything?

it was unexpected. not that kenan wasn’t friendly, he was. but you’d always been the one to reach out first, the one to keep conversations going when he got quiet. this was new.

you: wow, look who’s being proactive.
you: but yeah, actually. i still have to set up some furniture.

his reply came almost instantly.

kenan: omw.

and just like that, you had company.

when kenan showed up at your new place, he looked different, not physically, but in the way he carried himself. he still had that soft awkwardness, the quiet confidence, but there was something else too. a kind of determination.

‘hey,’ he said, stepping inside. ‘so where’s the furniture?’

‘straight to the point, huh?’ you teased, closing the door behind him.

he only shrugged, fighting back a grin. ‘i’m here to help, aren’t i?’

you led him to the mess of boxes and half-assembled furniture in your living room. he took one look at it, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

and that was how the next few hours went, building, unpacking, and somewhere along the way, talking more than you ever had before. kenan was still the same, thoughtful, a little reserved, but now, he wasn’t hesitating. he asked questions, told stories, even made you laugh a few times.

it felt easy. natural. like this had always been the way things were supposed to go.

by the time the last piece of furniture was in place, the sun had set, casting a warm glow through your new apartment.

‘not bad,’ kenan said, surveying the space.

‘yeah,’ you agreed, stretching your arms over your head. ‘couldn’t have done it without you.’

he looked at you then, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between you. something that had been building for years but never fully acknowledged.

you smiled. ‘guess i owe you dinner or something.’

his lips twitched, as if he was fighting the urge to smile too wide. ‘i wouldn’t say no to that.’

you nodded toward the kitchen. ‘i think i have instant ramen.’

he laughed, shaking his head. ‘or we could go somewhere actually good.’

‘wow, okay, mr. fancy.’

he only shrugged, but there was a spark of something in his eyes. something that told you this wasn’t just about dinner. it was about something more.

and maybe, finally, you were both ready for it.

[motherismotheringggg]

scripted desire pt. 2

(the finale)

read part one here!!!

summary: based on this request linked here, essentially cooper gets to work his celebrity crush and has to navigate doing a sex scene together

type: cooper koch x fem! reader (i know cooper is gay, this is just fiction pooks)

tags/warnings: 18+, penetration (p in v), oral (f! receiving), creampie, angst; back and forth between reader and cooper’s POV, the reader will be in red and anything in the past (in the context of the story) is indented

author’s note: i’m quite literally so sorry it took me OVER A MONTH to get this done but i hope you all like it!!!!

word count: ~10172 (good lord)

tag list: @purple-1995 , @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @sharonusworld , @violetidk , @melaninjhs , @emluvsuxo

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Cooper ran a hand through his already tousled curls, glancing around his apartment for what felt like the hundredth time. The coffee table was wiped down, the cushions on the couch had been fluffed and repositioned, and he’d vacuumed earlier—twice. He tugged the hem of his shirt, debating whether to swap it for something else. Casual but not too casual. Cool but effortless. God, why am I like this?

Your text saying “on my way” had come through almost twenty minutes ago, and ever since, he’d been pacing like a madman, obsessively checking that everything was perfect. The faint aroma of the takeout he’d ordered lingered in the air—Thai food, your favorite. The wine was chilling in the fridge, and he’d even lit a candle on the windowsill, though he worried it might feel too much like he was trying.

Filming had been going on for three months now, and during that time, what had started as a friendly dynamic on set had grown into something more. Every scene you shared seemed to deepen the connection—whether it was the playful banter your characters exchanged or the raw, emotional moments that required complete vulnerability. You pushed each other, fed off each other’s energy, and every time the director called “cut,” you found yourselves laughing or dissecting the scene together, eager to make the next take even better.

Off-set, the bond had only strengthened. Cooper showed up at your trailer every morning with coffee and breakfast, even on days when it meant dragging himself out of bed before sunrise. You repaid the favor by ordering lunch for him on his long shooting days, sneaking into his trailer to lay it all out neatly so he could eat between takes. It was little things, small routines that felt easy and natural.

But the connection was truly solidified after the first time you invited yourself to Cooper’s place after filming one day.

The two of you sat in your trailer, killing time while waiting to see if Ryan was going to call you back for reshoots. You were stretched out on the couch, your head resting on the armrest, legs casually draped across Cooper’s lap as he sat in the corner of the couch scrolling on his phone.

“The weather is so perfect today,” Cooper said, glancing out the window at the blue skies. “I’m excited to actually get home and use the rooftop deck for once. My new furniture came this week, and I haven’t had a chance to sit out there yet.”

You shot up, your feet sliding off his lap as you turned to face him. “Wait, is it the set I showed you from Amazon?”

He grinned, pulling up his phone to show you a picture. “Yep, this one. It’s even better in person.”

You grabbed the phone from his hand, studying the photo with a grin. “Oh my God, this looks so good, Coop! It’s giving, like, coastal rooftop vibes. I’m love it!.”

“Well, technically, you did good,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “You’re the one who recommended it.”

You handed his phone back and smirked. “Exactly. And since I recommended it, I think I should get to break it in with you.”

Cooper’s breath caught for a moment, his mind immediately registering the double entendre. He tried to play it cool, but the faint flush creeping up his neck gave him away. “Uh, yeah, that sounds... fair.” He chuckled, hoping it sounded casual.

You didn’t seem to notice his internal spiral, already moving on with an idea. “Perfect, because there’s this new Thai place that just opened near you. I’ve been dying to try it, and it can be my treat. Plus,” you added with a grin, “I have a new wine I’ve been saving for someone to try with me. Consider it a housewarming gift for the furniture I picked out.”

Cooper’s brain short-circuited. She’s coming over. Oh my God, she’s coming over. Is my place even clean? Did I take out the trash? What if I didn’t flush the toilet before I left this morning? He felt heat creeping up his neck at the mere thought, his mind running wild with every possible thing that could go wrong. Did I put the laundry away? Or is it still sitting on the bed?

Before he could spiral further, your voice broke through his thoughts. “So, what time should I come over?”

---

The rooftop was everything you’d imagined and more. Cooper’s new furniture fit perfectly into the space—a sleek outdoor sectional, a chaise lounge, and a low coffee table, all framed by a wrought iron railing that overlooked the city skyline. The warm glow of the string lights you’d helped him hang crisscrossed above, casting soft golden hues across the space. Potted plants and small lanterns added to the cozy atmosphere, and as the sun set, the soft pinks and oranges of the horizon melted into the deep blues of twilight, transforming the rooftop into something out of a dream.

The outdoor table was sprawled with takeout containers, half-empty wine glasses, and the bottle you’d brought, its label peeling slightly from the condensation. Music played faintly from a speaker in the corner, a mix of mellow indie tracks and 90s R&B that matched the chill vibe of the evening.

You and Cooper had been talking nonstop—sharing stories, cracking jokes, and diving into details about each other’s lives that made you feel closer with every passing minute. He told you about his brother’s embarrassing best man speech at a wedding last year, and you countered with the story of the time you accidentally texted a very private complaint about an ex to your boss instead of your friend. You’d laughed until your sides ached, and at some point, the distance between you had naturally closed.

You weren’t the type to get touchy when you were drunk, but thw wine played it’s part tonight. You started the night in one of the armchairs, but at some point, you’d migrated to the chaise lounge where Cooper was stretched out. Now, you were lying between his legs, your back resting against his chest as his arms draped loosely over the sides of the chair. It was innocent enough—two friends relaxing after a long week—but the warmth of his body against yours and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest made you feel... something.

The city below was quieting down, the hum of traffic fading into the night as you both stared up at the string lights above. The silence between you had gone on for a little while, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, even soothing.

“It’s getting pretty late,” you murmured, your voice soft as you broke the quiet. “I should probably get going. I’ll just Uber home and come back for my car tomorrow.”

You felt Cooper shift behind you, his voice a little firmer now. “You’re not taking an Uber home alone at this hour. No way.”

You tilted your head back slightly to look up at him, catching the serious set of his jaw. “Coop, I’ll be fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he countered, crossing his arms in mock seriousness. “You’ve had wine, it’s late, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. Just stay. You can sleep here.”

You tilted your head, giving him a teasing grin. “Are you sure this isn’t just an elaborate ploy to get me to stay longer so you don’t have to clean up by yourself?”

He smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to the offer. But mostly, it’s because I’m a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. If you insist, Mr. Gentleman.”

The two of you gathered the leftovers and headed back down to his apartment. The narrow stairwell was dimly lit, and the old wooden door that led into the hallway stuck as Cooper tried to push it open.

“Stupid thing,” he muttered, jiggling the handle.

You stood close behind him, the space so tight you could feel the warmth radiating from his back. The scent of his cologne—fresh and woodsy—lingered in the air, making your head spin slightly.

“I’ve got it,” you said, stepping closer to help, your hand brushing his.

“It’s fine, I—” Cooper glanced back at you, his eyes meeting yours for just a second too long.

You hadn’t really thought about Cooper like that before—or at least, you’d tried not to. He was sweet, sure, and definitely attractive, but he was also the guy who never crossed a line, no matter how much you jokingly flirted with him on set. He’d always been so respectful, and you wanted to follow his lead. But now, with the wine flowing through you and the way his lips parted slightly as he turned back to the door, you couldn’t help but feel... intrigued.

Finally, the door gave way, and you both spilled into the hallway with a laugh. Cooper handed you a T-shirt to change into once inside, heading off to his bedroom while you ducked into the bathroom. The shirt was huge on you, brushing just above the bottom of your thighs as you adjusted it in the mirror.

Alright, nothing wrong with setting the bait just a little, you thought with a smirk as you ran your hands over the fabric.

When you came back into the living room, Cooper was already on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He glanced up as you walked in, his eyes flickering to your legs for the briefest of moments before he cleared his throat.

“Shirt fits okay?” he asked, his voice casual.

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, settling onto the couch beside him.

The two of you talked for a little while longer, the conversation slowing as Cooper let out a yawn. You stretched, glancing at the couch. “You wouldn’t happen to have a weighted blanket, would you? I’d love that for the night.”

Cooper chuckled, leaning back. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t kick you out of your bed,” you protested.

He smirked. “After the fight scenes today? You need all the cushion you can get for your back. Trust me.”

You grinned, trying to play it cool but unable to resist joking. “You know, we’ll have to get comfortable sleeping with each anyway, might as well start tonight.”

His laugh came out nervous and uneven, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you have a point.”

You immediately regretted saying it, heat rushing to your cheeks. Why did I lay it on so thick? you thought as you stood to head upstairs. It’s clear he’s not into that. Or maybe... he’s just not into me.

“I’m joking Coop,” you stood front the couch, feigning nonchalance, “thanks for letting me kick you out of your room for the night.”

He called out “goodnight as you headed up the stairs and you responded back with those thoughts swirling in your mind, you trudged up the stairs, the oversized T-shirt swaying softly against your legs.

---

The second you climbed into the chaise with him, Cooper’s body went stiff, every nerve on high alert. It wasn’t the first time he’d been close to you—on set, the two of you had plenty of moments that required touching, leaning into each other, and sharing intimate glances. But this? This was different. It was quiet, real, and the wine wasn’t helping.

Over the past few months, Cooper had essentially mastered the art of acting normal while being completely overwhelmed by how much he was in love with you. He’d trained himself to steady his breathing, to regulate his heart rate when you got too close. He’d learned to make sure his palms weren’t clammy whenever you grabbed his hand to drag him to another part of set or shared a private joke. He’d perfected the casual laugh, the easy nod, the reassuring smile—all the things that kept you blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside him.

But tonight, with you nestled between his legs, your back pressed to his chest, and his fingertips lightly grazing your arm as if they belonged there, it was almost too much. The way your head rested against him, the way your laughter had softened into something quieter—it felt romantic. And for a moment, he let himself enjoy it. He let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, you felt it too.

And then you came downstairs in that shirt.

When he first heard your footsteps on the stairs, he’d braced himself, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of you. The oversized T-shirt barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, the curve of your perfect ass peeking out just enough to drive him crazy. Something primal surged through him, catching him off guard.

He wanted you. Right then and there, he wanted you in a way that was overwhelming and consuming. He wanted to cross the space between you, scoop you up into his arms, and carry you back upstairs. He wanted to throw you down on his bed, pin you there, and make you his.

The longer he stared, the worse it got. His eyes trailed from your long, sexy legs to the way the shirt swayed with each step. He imagined those legs over his shoulders, your thighs trembling as he buried his face between them. He imagined bending them back, spreading you wide as you took him fully, your voice gasping his name. He imagined you straddling him, your hands on his chest as you moved, slow and deliberate, driving him out of his mind.

He clenched his fists on his lap, forcing himself to look away before you could catch him staring. His jaw tightened as he tried to rein in the heat spreading through him. He hated this. Hated that he couldn’t stop thinking about you this way. Hated that you were right there—so close, so effortlessly beautiful, and so completely off-limits.

You were his friend. His coworker. And he knew you appreciated him as just that.

Even when you made jokes about sharing a bed for practice, he knew it didn’t mean anything. It was just you being playful, the way you always were. But God, did it kill him every time you said something like that. It was like dangling a dream in front of him that he couldn’t have.

When you’d gone upstairs earlier, he’d felt relief. But now, sitting here with the sound of your soft footsteps shuffling around above him, he hated himself for passing up the invitation you’d all but handed him. You’d practically given him the green light to share the bed—to be closer to you—and he’d chickened out.

Cooper leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the faint sounds of you settling upstairs. The weight of his unspoken feelings pressed down on him like a brick. He hated this. He hated wanting you so much it hurt.

----

The small office was cozy but cluttered, filled with mismatched furniture and a lingering smell of lavender. You and Cooper sat on a worn couch, waiting for the intimacy coordinator to arrive. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, but the anticipation was palpable. This was the day you’d finally start mapping out your scene—a pivotal moment in the story, and one that had loomed in the back of your minds since you first read the script.

When the coordinator finally walked in, she was everything you might have expected and more. Her look was delightfully granola: baggy, billowy clothes in earthy tones, tattoos covering her arms and neck, and, of course, a pair of well-worn Birkenstocks. She kicked them off almost immediately, wiggling her toes against the hardwood floor. “I like to feel more connected to the space,” she explained with a serene smile as she settled into an armchair.

You exchanged a quick glance with Cooper, suppressing a laugh as she pulled out her notebook.

“Alright,” the coordinator began, flipping to a fresh page. “Before we get into choreography or specifics, I like to start with comfort levels. Let’s talk about how you feel about your own bodies—not just on camera, but in real life.”

Cooper leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’d say I’m pretty confident with my body,” he said, his voice calm but thoughtful. “Growing up, I was lanky and awkward, so it took a while to feel comfortable in my skin. But once I started working out, it helped a lot. It’s not just about how I look—it’s about feeling stronger, more capable.”

You nodded, smiling at him before adding your own response. “For me, it’s been more of a journey. I’m a bigger girl, and that wasn’t always easy to embrace. But being around people who actually valued me—not just for my body, but for who I am—made all the difference. I’ve worked through a lot, and I’m the most confident I’ve ever been now.”

Cooper turned to you, his warm brown eyes softening. “I didn’t know that,” he said, his voice quiet but full of genuine care. Without thinking, you reached over and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The coordinator smiled knowingly, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “There’s a strong connection between you two,” she said, jotting something in her notebook.

You felt Cooper’s hand squeeze yours briefly before he pulled it away, and though you noticed, you didn’t react. The moment lingered for just a second before the coordinator continued.

For the next hour, you and Cooper talked about your on-screen experiences. He’d done more nudity, you’d done more sex scenes. Your experiences balanced each other out in a way that felt natural, and you both laughed over anecdotes from past projects—like the time Cooper had to lie naked on a freezing cold floor for hours, or when you had to make out with an actor who’d eaten garlic knots right before a scene.

Then came the choreography.

Sex scenes look so intimate and natural on screen,” but in person? They’re anything but. It’s a dance—a mix of choreography, lighting, camera angles, and making sure everything looks right for film. Some things we can improvise for realism, but a lot of it is planned down to the smallest detail.

You practiced straddling Cooper’s lap at least twenty times, adjusting your positioning for the best angles. You rehearsed how he’d remove your shirt over thirty times, making sure the motion was fluid and natural. But it wasn’t until the kiss—the kiss—that the scene took on a life of its own.

It was the climax of the story, a moment where your characters bared their souls to each other. The coordinator told you to let it flow, to stop if you needed to, and to trust her to course correct.

You were in Cooper’s lap again, your shirt off and your lacy bra barely covering your chest. His hands rested lightly on your waist, and his gaze flickered nervously to the coordinator.

“Loosen up,” she said gently. “You’re doing great, Cooper, but you need to relax.”

Cooper hesitated. He was afraid to relax. Afraid to let go of the control he’d clung to since the moment you entered his life. Because if he did, every single feeling he’d buried—the longing, the need, the desire—would come rushing out, and he wasn’t sure he could hide it anymore.

You leaned forward slightly, your hands on his shoulders, grounding him. “We’ve got this,” you murmured, your voice low and steady.

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t like the other kisses your characters had shared. This one was hungry, desperate, your tongues tangling as you pressed closer. Your hips rocked steadily against his lap, and his large hands gripped your torso, sliding up your sides and down your back.

The kiss was everything it needed to be for the scene—and more. For a brief moment, Cooper forgot where he was. Forgot the lights, the cameras, the crew. It was just you.

And that was the problem.

He felt it before he could stop it—the telltale heat, the rush of blood as his body betrayed him. He was getting hard, and there was no stopping it. He knew that in seconds, you’d feel it, and there was no way he could let that happen.

Cooper pulled back abruptly, his breathing uneven as he gently moved you off his lap. “Maybe, uh, maybe we should try this standing,” he said quickly, his voice tight.

The coordinator raised an eyebrow, amused. “Standing? For a car sex scene? That would be... interesting.”

“You’re both doing great,” she added, smiling. “Let’s take a quick break and regroup in a few.”

Cooper was gone before you could say anything, practically storming out of the office. You stayed behind, talking about the scene with the coordinator and not focusing on the sudden change in energy.

----

By Thursday, you’d all but convinced yourself that Cooper was avoiding you.

It started subtly enough—small things that, at first, you chalked up to coincidence. Instead of bringing you breakfast himself, he started handing it off to an intern to deliver. Between takes, he wasn’t lingering on set, sharing jokes or teasing you about forgetting your lines. Instead, he’d retreat to his trailer, barely glancing your way as he passed. And after work? Nothing. No texts, no memes, no TikTok links. Radio silence.

At first, you tried not to take it personally. Cooper was allowed to have bad days—or even bad weeks. You reasoned that maybe he was tired or overwhelmed. But as the days stretched on, the oddness of it all settled into something heavier.

What the hell is his problem? you thought as you stared at his latest text—a curt “No thanks!” after you’d offered to buy lunch for both of you.

By the end of Thursday’s shoot, you were tired, frustrated, and more than a little upset. You’d been close to Cooper for months now, relying on the easy rhythm of your friendship both on and off set. And now, just as you were gearing up to shoot the most intimate scene of the entire project, he was acting like... this? It didn’t make any sense.

Ryan called everyone into a huddle to wrap up the day, his energy as commanding as ever. You found a spot near the back of the group, scanning the crowd until you spotted Cooper. He was standing far from you, arms crossed and gaze fixed on the ground.

“Alright, listen up!” Ryan said. “The studio’s doing some maintenance tomorrow, so we’re all getting the day off. Enjoy your Friday. Recharge. But—” he added, his tone firm—“I need everyone here bright and early Saturday. We’re filming the big one. You know the scene I mean.”

You nodded along with the rest of the group, your stomach tightening at the mention of the scene. You glanced at Cooper, but he didn’t look up.

After the huddle broke, you headed back to your trailer to pack up your things. You were trying to shake off the lingering frustration when you caught sight of Cooper outside, moving quickly and quietly toward the studio lot. He glanced around, clearly trying not to be noticed, before ducking into the passenger seat of a car you didn’t recognize.

It clicked all at once. Maybe he has a girlfriend.*

The thought made your chest tighten, not completely with jealousy but with a strange, sinking feeling. It all made sense now—his awkwardness during the sex scene practice, the way he’d been pulling away from you, the tension in his body every time you got close. If he was seeing someone and your friendship had blossomed too fast, too intensely, it would explain everything.

He’s probably just trying to define boundaries with this other relationship, you thought, your earlier anger morphing into understanding. The sex jokes you’d made, the rooftop hangouts that stretched late into the night—those things probably felt like lines being crossed to him, even if you hadn’t meant them that way.

The weight of it followed you home. As you got ready for bed, you debated whether to text him. You didn’t want to make things worse or seem like you’d uncovered some big secret. But you also didn’t want to leave things unresolved, especially with the big scene looming over you both.

You grabbed your phone just before climbing into bed, deciding to send a message. Keeping it light felt like the best approach.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry for crossing any boundaries. Hopefully, me, you, and lucky gal can all do a rooftop hangout soon!!”

You hit send and stared at the screen for a moment before setting the phone down.

*There,* you thought. *Ball’s in his court now.*

---

Cooper saw your text the instant it came through, the screen lighting up his darkened room like a beacon. The soft ding shattered the quiet, cutting through the heavy silence he’d been drowning in all week. He stared at the words, rereading them until they blurred at the edges. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, wanting to reply immediately, to say something—anything—that would keep this fragile thread of connection intact. But the weight of everything unsaid kept his fingers still.

He’d turned off his read receipts weeks ago, claiming it was for privacy, but tonight, he was grateful for the buffer. You wouldn’t know how long he sat there, staring at your message like it was a lifeline. You wouldn’t know how much it meant that, after the way he’d been acting, you still wanted to reach out.

The guilt clawed at his chest, sharp and unrelenting.

Payton had driven him home from set that day, and the entire ride had been a disaster in his head. He hadn’t stopped replaying the moment in the intimacy coordinator’s office—or more accurately, the moment he’d ruined everything.

He’d wanted to kiss you. God, he’d wanted to kiss you. Not just because the scene called for it, but because every fiber of his being had been screaming to close the gap between you and finally show you how he felt. To let his hands roam your body, to pour every ounce of his frustration and longing into a kiss that would leave no doubt in your mind.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t.

Instead, he’d pulled away, stumbling over a half-baked excuse about standing choreography and all but sprinting out of the room. It wasn’t the kiss that had scared him—it was the thought of what you’d think if you’d realized how much he’d wanted it. He’d been terrified that you’d felt his erection during the scene, that you’d think he was gross or unprofessional or just another actor who couldn’t separate work from reality.

So he did the only thing he could think of to protect himself and, in his mind, to protect you too—he distanced himself.

That night, sitting in Payton’s passenger seat, Cooper had finally cracked. He spilled everything to his brother—the scene, the kiss, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the guilt that gnawed at him for how he’d acted. He admitted that he had no idea how to fix it, no idea what to say to you now.

Payton listened patiently, letting him get it all out before shaking his head. “Man, icing her out was the top 10 stupidest things you could’ve done,” he said bluntly but not unkindly. “You’re acting like you’re the first guy in history to fall for someone they work with. Just text her. Clear it up. She deserves that.”

Cooper groaned, throwing his head back against the headrest. “Yeah, okay. And what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know we’re friends, but I’m gonna do that guy thing where, after you’ve built trust with me, I’ll tell you I’m in love with you and want you sexually’? That won’t send her running at all.”

Payton laughed, shaking his head. “You could maybe *not* phrase it like a serial killer. Just tell her you’re sorry for being distant and you’ve had stuff on your mind. It’s not that hard, Coop.”

But it was hard.

By the time Cooper got home, he was too wound up to do anything but collapse on the couch. He spent the evening aimlessly flipping through channels, snacking on crackers and sipping wine, trying—and failing—to gather the courage to text you. Every time he opened your thread, the words he wanted to say felt wrong or inadequate.

When he finally dragged himself upstairs to bed, it was nearly midnight. He lay on his back, phone in hand, scrolling to your name again. Your last message glowed softly on the screen, and he stared at it until his eyes burned. He thought about calling you, about telling you everything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing paralyzed him. Once again, he did nothing.

Friday morning came and went, and still, the words eluded him. He told himself he was giving you space, that it was better this way, but deep down, he knew he was fumbling the friendship. He hated himself for it, hated the way he was letting his fear keep him frozen.

By midday, he was lying on the couch again, scrolling aimlessly when his phone vibrated in his hand. Your name popped up on the screen, and his heart stopped.

“If you’re not busy, are we doing our Friday night sesh lol?”

The text was simple, nonchalant, and so perfectly you. Relief washed over him, warm and heavy, but it was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Even after the way he’d acted, you were still reaching out. You were still trying to keep the connection alive, and here he was, barely holding it together.

For a long moment, Cooper sat there, staring at your message. A part of him wanted to ignore it—not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he was terrified of messing up even more. But then Payton’s voice echoed in his mind: “Just text her. She deserves that.”

Taking a deep breath, he finally typed a response.

“Yeah. Come over whenever you can!”

His thumb hovered over the send button, his chest tightening as the weight of his feelings threatened to crush him. Finally, he hit send, watching the message disappear into the ether.

He set the phone down on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch as he tried to steady his breathing. And now, all he could do was wait.

---

Even before your eyes opened Friday morning, you were already expecting a reply from Cooper. Some part of you just knew he would’ve texted you back by now—confirming that he was seeing someone, apologizing for being weird, and putting all of this to rest.

But when you rolled over and grabbed your phone, the screen told a different story.

There were a few Instagram notifications—likes on a recent post—and a couple of mentions on Twitter from fans speculating about the show. But nothing from Cooper.

Your heart sank, a dull ache settling in your chest. You felt silly for being so hopeful, for thinking he’d reply as quickly as he always used to. If he does have a girlfriend, you reasoned, then technically, I can’t be mad at him. But that logic didn’t stop the sting. It still hurt.

You tossed your phone onto the bed, burying your face in your hands with a groan. “Get a grip,” you muttered to yourself, but the pep talk didn’t do much to lift your mood.

You spent the morning moping around the apartment, picking up clutter here and there before sitting back down, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. The knot in your chest tightened every time you thought about Cooper, about how things had shifted so suddenly between you.

By midday, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. Sitting around wasn’t helping, and you needed to clear your head. You grabbed your bag and keys, determined to shake off the heaviness.

The sun was warm on your skin as you walked through downtown LA, the familiar buzz of the city wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You stopped at a nearby coffee shop, ordering your favorite drink and savoring the slight bitterness of the first sip. You sat outside for a bit, watching people go by, their lives unfolding in a way that made your own worries feel small.

You didn’t even notice the paparazzi at first. It wasn’t until someone called your name, camera in hand, that you realized you’d been spotted. You forced a smile, raising your coffee cup in a mock toast as they snapped a few pictures. It was part of the job, and while it wasn’t your favorite part, you knew how to play the game.

From there, you wandered into a few stores, picking up a couple of things that caught your eye. Retail therapy wasn’t a cure, but it was a distraction—and today, a distraction was exactly what you needed.

Being outside, away from the quiet of your apartment and the constant swirl of thoughts about Cooper, helped you breathe a little easier. By the time you were heading home, the sting of the morning had dulled.

And as you climbed the stairs to your place, a thought struck you: At the end of the day, you and Cooper are friends.

Friends have awkward moments. Friends sometimes need space. And whatever was going on between the two of you, it didn’t have to be the end of your friendship. Neither of you had done anything wrong, so there was no reason for things to stay weird forever.

The realization didn’t erase all the hurt, but it gave you clarity. You could move past this.

Feigning bravery, you grabbed your phone as you kicked off your shoes. It was Friday night, after all, and Friday night meant one thing: your weekly hangout with Cooper. You’d made it a tradition, and you weren’t about to let a few days of awkwardness ruin it.

Opening your messages, you typed out the text and hit send before you could overthink it:

“If you’re not busy, are we doing our Friday night sesh lol?”

You set your phone down, exhaling deeply. Whatever happened next, at least you were trying. At least you were giving him the chance to meet you halfway.

And now, all you could do was wait.

----

It was a little after 8 when you got there, and Cooper had already turned his bedroom into a war zone. Clothes were scattered across the floor, his bed buried beneath rejected options that didn’t pass the “effortlessly casual” test. He didn’t want to look like he’d tried too hard—because trying too hard would suggest something—but he also didn’t want to look like a slob. He did all that just to finally settle on a simple gray muscle tank and sweat pants, but as he stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem, he started second-guessing everything again.

What was he even going to do when you got here? Should he act normal and pretend nothing was wrong? Should he apologize for being distant? Try to patch things up and keep being friends?

Or should he just tell you how he feels?

No. Absolutely not. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

But then there was the issue of the text you’d sent last night. The one that suggested you thought he had a girlfriend. How could he clear that up without spilling everything? He didn’t want you thinking he was lying or sneaking around, but explaining it meant opening a door he wasn’t sure he could close.

Before he could spiral any further, the doorbell rang, and his stomach dropped.

You were here.

Walking down the stairs to open the door, Cooper felt like he was heading into a first date instead of hanging out with someone he’d spent almost every day with for the last four months. The feeling annoyed him, made him hate how much power his own emotions seemed to have over him. You weren’t a stranger. You were you. And yet, seeing you standing there on his doorstep still sent a pit straight to his stomach.

When he opened the door, it hit him again. You looked amazing, even in something as simple as jeans and a t-shirt. The faint scent of your perfume reached him as you stepped inside, and he fought the instinct to pull you into a hug. Normally, you’d hug him or give him some casual pat on the stomach, but this time? Nothing.

The lack of touch stung more than he cared to admit.

You started making small talk as you slipped off your coat, your voice light as you talked about your Uber driver and how they’d missed the turn to his street. Cooper nodded along, but his nerves were all over his face, and he could feel it. The tension in the air was suffocating, even though you were trying to fill it with conversation.

“I’m making dinner,” he blurted, his voice louder than he’d meant. He cleared his throat. “Uh, if you want to sit here on the couch, I just have to grab something from upstairs.”

You nodded, smiling faintly as you settled onto the couch. Cooper didn’t wait to see if you’d say anything else—he turned and bolted up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest.

Once in his bedroom, he started pacing. He rubbed his hands over his face, muttering under his breath as he tried to calm the frantic thoughts running through his head.

Why did I tell her to come over? he thought, dragging a hand through his hair. I don’t even have a good explanation for her.

He glanced at the clothes still scattered across the floor, stepping over a pile of T-shirts as he paced back and forth.

She’s going to ask why I’ve been distant, and I’m going to make it worse. I’ll ruin the show, I’ll ruin this—

He stopped mid-step, shaking his head as if he could physically dispel the anxiety gripping him. He wanted to fix things. He wanted to make everything normal again. But how? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t dig him deeper into the mess he’d made?

Cooper stood in the middle of the room, staring at the wall like it might offer him some magical solution. The silence upstairs was broken only by the faint sound of you shuffling around downstairs, probably settling into the couch.

----

Getting out of the Uber made your stomach churn, and you weren’t even sure why. This was Cooper—your friend, your Friday night hangout buddy. Nothing was different, right? But as you walked toward his door, the trembling in your hand when you reached for the doorbell told a different story.

When Cooper opened the door, you instinctively inhaled, a witty line ready to spill out as you leaned forward to give him a hug, but his body language made you pause. He didn’t lean in or even shift toward you. He just stood there, stiff and awkward, his usual warmth replaced by something that felt… off. You swallowed the hug and stepped inside, brushing off the sting.

His apartment was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the stove fan in the kitchen. The silence pressed down between you, like you both wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. Trying to break the tension, you launched into a lighthearted rant about your Uber driver getting lost, your tone playful and exaggerated.

But Cooper wasn’t biting.

He gave you half-smiles and short answers, avoiding eye contact as if looking at you might crack him open. His usual charm felt buried under a thick layer of nerves, and just when you were about to ask if everything was okay, he blurted out, “I’m making dinner if you wanted to sit here on the couch, I just have to grab something from upstairs.”

It was so abrupt that it almost made you laugh. “Uh, okay,” you said, setting your coat on the armrest as you perched on the couch.

You watched him practically bolt up the stairs, his footsteps echoing overhead. For a few moments, you sat there, trying to piece together the puzzle of his behavior. Was it still about the intimacy coordinator practice? Or maybe… was it something else?

The sound of muffled shuffling pulled your focus, followed by Cooper’s hushed voice. At first, you thought he might be on the phone. But as you tilted your head and angled yourself to hear better, it became clear he was talking to himself.

And not just about anything—about you.

Your heart raced, a mix of curiosity and anxiety bubbling to the surface. You didn’t want to startle him, but it was clear that the two of you couldn’t keep dodging whatever this was. Quietly, you made your way up the steps, the wood creaking slightly under your weight.

His bedroom door was ajar, the soft light spilling into the hallway. You knocked lightly, pushing the door open just enough to peek inside.

“Hey, Coop,” you said softly. “Are you okay?”

He turned sharply, his wide eyes meeting yours like you’d just caught him robbing a bank. “Yeah, I’m great,” he stammered, his voice unconvincing.

You stepped inside, leaning your back against the door and crossing your arms. “Cooper,” you said with a teasing smirk, “for such an incredible actor, you’re a terrible liar.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, the tension in his shoulders melting as he let out a soft, nervous chuckle.

“It’s been unfairly long since we laughed. I can’t stand it,” you said, trying to ease the tension.

Cooper nodded, letting out a long sigh. “You’re right. I—I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“For what, exactly?” you pressed, your tone gentle but firm.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. When you mentioned the idea of him having a girlfriend, he froze, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find the right words. Finally, he walked over to the bed, sitting near the top so he could rest his back against the headboard.

You stayed by the door, watching as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he exhaled and said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The relief that washed over you was immediate and overwhelming. Internally, you were beaming. Thank God.

“Can you come sit next to me?” he asked, his voice soft.

You crossed the room and climbed onto the other side of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked under you. Trying to lighten the mood, you teased, “So, you just make all your friends think you’re mad at them to keep things interesting?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, I—” He closed his eyes tightly, like he was bracing himself for impact. “Y/N, I’m just gonna say everything I need to, like word vomit, because if I don’t, I might actually throw up.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Go ahead,” you said gently.

He took a deep breath, his eyes still closed as the words spilled out of him. “Ever since I saw you in Kindred Spirits, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. And every day since then has felt like a dream because not only are you captivating, but you’re so kind, and sweet, and funny. And I knew I was in love, but then you started coming over, and it made it impossible to ignore.”

Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest as his words tumbled out.

“I’ve been having dreams,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “And I know it’s probably gross, and I’m so sorry if that’s weird, but that’s why the sex scene marking was so overwhelming for me. Because I didn’t want to be that guy—the movie set creep who can’t keep it together. But it’s not just about control. It’s about you. I want you. And I get it if you don’t feel the same way, but I—”

“Cooper,” you interrupted, your voice soft but steady.

His eyes shot open, panic flashing across his face as he looked at you.

You paused, unsure of how to respond, but the way Cooper's eyes searched your face so desperately for reassurance made your heart ache. He looked so vulnerable, so raw, and you wanted to find the right words to ease the weight on his shoulders.

"So, this has all been because of the scene?" you asked gently, keeping your tone light to relieve some of the pressure. "I mean... I already imagined you liked me-because I liked you."

His eyes widened at your admission, his lips parting in shock, but you pressed on. "But I thought it'd be tacky to date your co-star, you know? And you're nervous about getting hard during the scene?"

The redness that spread across his cheeks was answer enough. He couldn't speak, but he shook his head furiously, as if trying to deny it, even though it was clear you'd hit the mark.

"Honey, that's natural," you said softly, letting a playful smile tug at your lips. "We're going to be so padded up, we won't even have to worry about that."

You reached out and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against the faint stubble along his jaw. He leaned into your touch instinctively, his tension melting under the warmth of your palm.

Relief flickered in his eyes as if the weight of his confession had finally been lifted.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence hung in the air, charged with an energy that neither of you dared to break-until you did.

"…Do you wanna practice the scene?" you asked quietly, but with intention.

Cooper's eyes snapped to yours, wide and full of surprise. "Practice," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... do it for real?" His voice cracked slightly, his neck craning forward as if trying to confirm he hadn't misheard.

You nodded, your gaze steady. "This way, we can get all your nerves out of the way. And," you added with a sly wink, "we both get what we clearly want."

His face flushed deeper, and for a moment, he just blinked at you, his lips forming a silent are you sure?

But you were already standing, sliding your jeans down your legs in one smooth motion.

Cooper sat frozen, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes traveled up your body. You crossed the room to the bed, climbing on and straddling him just as you had during the rehearsal. His hands instinctively rested on your thighs, and you could feel the heat radiating from his palms.

"Okay, so remember," you said, your voice calm but slightly breathy, "pull the shirt over both arms, not one at a time."

"Slow and with eye contact," Cooper murmured, his voice steady but soft.

"Exactly," you said, smiling at how well he remembered.

He nodded, his fingers brushing the hem of your shirt as he carefully lifted it up. The cool air hit your skin as he pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in a lacy pink bra. Cooper froze for a moment, his eyes sweeping over you.

"Okay," you said, your voice a little shakier than before. "Now for the kiss."

Cooper nodded, his hands still resting lightly on your hips. "I think we should start slow," you directed. "And then pick up the pace."

"Okay," he breathed, unable to say anything more.

You leaned in first, your lips brushing his gently.

The kiss started soft, hesitant even, as though you were both testing the waters despite having kissed countless times on set before. But this wasn't a scene. There were no cameras, no lights, no crew. Just the two of you alone in his bedroom.

The kiss deepened naturally, growing more intense with every passing second. Cooper's hands tightened on your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin as though anchoring himself to the moment. Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer, and you felt his breath hitch when your chest pressed against his.

His lips were warm and urgent against yours, and the way he kissed you sent a rush of heat straight through you. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss as his hands slid up your back, his thumbs grazing the band of your bra.

Your hips rocked against him, the motion slow and instinctive. Cooper let out a deep, throaty groan against your lips, and you couldn’t ignore the hardness pressing against you. The sensation made you bolder, and you rode him harder, your movements drawing an almost guttural sound from his chest.

His moans turned into low, needy grunts, his hands sliding back down to grip your hips. He didn’t just steady you—he guided you, his grip firm and deliberate as if he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him beneath you.

“Take my bra off,” you whispered against his lips, your voice soft but commanding.

His eyes darted to yours, wide and hungry, before his fingers moved to the clasp at your back. He fumbled for only a moment before freeing you, and the lacy fabric fell away, leaving you bare before him.

Cooper’s chest heaved as his gaze swept over your exposed skin. His pupils dilated, his breathing quickening as though he couldn’t fully process the sight of you.

He leaned back in, capturing your lips with his as his hands moved to your breasts. His fingers worked expertly, rolling your nipples between them with just the right amount of pressure. The sensations sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you let out soft moans into his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as you lost yourself in the moment.

His kisses grew more urgent, his lips trailing down your neck in a path that left your skin tingling. He paused to suck gently at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

“Cooper,” you breathed, your voice shaky as his lips continued their descent.

When he reached your breasts, his tongue flicked over one nipple before his teeth scraped it lightly, sending a chill down your spine that left you feeling numb in the best way. Your back arched instinctively, pressing yourself closer to him as your hands tangled in his hair.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, and you couldn’t help the way your hips continued to grind against him. The friction between you was electric, building a heat that threatened to consume you both.

“Just like that, Cooper,” you moaned, your voice dripping with need.

Cooper’s lips found yours again, his hunger for you palpable in every kiss, every soft graze of his tongue. “Y/N,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and dripping with need. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his forehead almost touching yours. “I need you,” he confessed, his gaze dark and unwavering.

“Take off your pants,” you replied, your voice steady but heavy with anticipation. You held his gaze, matching the intensity radiating off him in waves.

Cooper stood from the bed, his movements quick but deliberate. He pushed his sweatpants and briefs down in one motion, and his hardness sprang free, standing proudly before you. For a moment, you simply took him in, your eyes roaming over his body, every inch of him completely enthralled by you.

Without breaking eye contact, you slipped off your panties and tossed them aside. He stood frozen, watching you, his chest rising and falling as his breaths grew heavier.

You knelt on the bed in front of him, pulling him back into a kiss that left both of you gasping for air. Your hand trailed down his torso, wrapping around his length as you stroked him with deliberate, measured motions.

Cooper groaned into your ear, his head tilting back slightly as he breathed heavily, your name tumbling from his lips like a prayer. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaky with need. “I want you so bad.”

You kissed him deeply, cutting off his words as you guided him back onto the bed. He laid down beneath you, his head resting against the pillows, his eyes glued to yours with a mix of awe and anticipation.

You climbed on top, straddling him as you positioned yourself over him. The room was thick with tension, every movement deliberate and charged. You could see the anticipation in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched slightly as he waited for you to close the distance.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, your wet heat enveloping his tip. Cooper let out a loud, guttural groan as his head fell back against the pillows, his hands gripping your thighs as if to ground himself. The sensation sent a shudder through you, and your back arched instinctively, your body adjusting to the feeling of him stretching and filling you completely.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice ragged.

You let out a soft moan as you took him fully, your hands bracing against his chest. His skin was firm and warm beneath your palms, his body sturdy enough to support you completely. You rocked your hips slowly, savoring the way he fit perfectly inside you.

Cooper’s hands found your waist, his grip firm as he guided your movements to match his. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You feel so good, Y/N.”

His eyes flicked down to your breasts, which moved with every motion of your body. He reached up, cupping them in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he watched you ride him with unrestrained admiration.

Your head tilted back, a moan slipping past your lips as the sensations built. “Cooper,” you gasped, your voice thick with pleasure.

He groaned in response, his hips bucking slightly beneath you as he moved with you, completely lost in the rhythm of your bodies.

You reached for his hands, intertwining your fingers with his as you shifted your position. Leaning forward slightly, you began to bounce on him, the new angle sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you.

The sound of your skin meeting filled the room, accompanied by the symphony of your combined moans and the breathless gasps of each other’s names. The intensity between you was overwhelming, your bodies completely in sync as the tension continued to build.

“Y/N,” Cooper groaned again, his voice deeper now, tinged with desperation. His grip on your hands tightened as his hips drove upward to meet your movements, his need for you consuming him entirely.

Your pace quickened, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you chased the high that seemed just out of reach. Cooper’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze full of adoration and unspoken promises as you both climbed higher and higher.

You continued bouncing on Cooper, feeling the waves of pleasure build inside you with every motion. The tension coiling in your body was undeniable, and you knew you were close—so did he. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as your pace quickened, your breath hitching with every bounce.

The intensity grew until your legs trembled with the effort, and you slowed, needing a small break. Cooper, sensing your need, reached up and pulled you down for a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a way that left you breathless.

“Lay down,” he murmured, his voice husky with need.

You obeyed, your body melting into the mattress as he trailed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and along the curves of your body. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat in its wake, making you shiver in anticipation.

When he reached your center, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a smoldering intensity. His lips brushed against your most sensitive spot, sending a jolt through your body that made your back arch off the bed.

“Cooper,” you gasped, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair.

He didn’t hesitate, diving in fully as his tongue worked you with precision, licking and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your moans filled the room, your thighs trembling as he devoured you like a man starved.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your body.

You barely had time to respond before you felt him slip a finger inside you, his movements slow but deliberate. Your hips bucked against him, your hands tugging at his hair as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable height.

“Fuck, Cooper, I want you so bad,” you moaned, your voice breaking.

He stopped licking you for a moment, focusing entirely on the slow, intentional pace of his fingers inside you. He looked up at you, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Say it again.”

“Cooper,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, “I want you so bad.”

“Again,” he growled, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

You repeated it, again and again, each confession carrying more intensity than the last. Your voice became more desperate, and with each word, you felt yourself teetering closer to the edge.

“Cooper, please,” you finally begged, your voice cracking. “Fuck me, baby.”

In an instant, he was over you, his body moving with an urgency you hadn’t seen before. He angled himself at your entrance, his tip slipping in easily, the sensation making you gasp. He exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he pushed in deeper.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice strained as he fully seated himself inside you.

Your back arched, your body adjusting to the fullness of him as he began to move. His thrusts were steady but firm, his body pressing against yours with every motion. His biceps rested on either side of your head, framing you, and your hands reached up to caress his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with emotion.

Cooper adjusted his position slightly, spreading your legs wider to deepen the angle. The new depth sent a shockwave through you, and you cried out his name, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Cooper,” you moaned, your voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

“Me too,” he grunted, his hips rocking into you with renewed determination. “I want us to finish together.”

He lowered himself, hovering just above you as he maintained his rhythm. His breath was hot against your neck, and you felt his body tense as he worked to keep his pace steady.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Cum inside me, Cooper.”

Your words sent him over the edge. His thrusts grew erratic, each one more desperate than the last, until finally, the both of you came undone. Pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your moans mixing with his deep groans as he spilled into you, filling you completely.

His body collapsed against yours, his chest heaving as you both caught your breath. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of your breathing, the intensity of the moment settling into something quieter, more intimate.

Cooper rolled onto his side, pulling you close as he lay next to you. You turned to him, leaning in to kiss him softly, your lips brushing against his in a way that felt unhurried and full of meaning.

He rested his head on his hand, his other hand lazily tracing small circles on your shoulder. For a while, neither of you spoke, just basking in the afterglow.

When you finally broke the silence, it was with a teasing smile. “What?” he asked, his cheeks flushing as he caught the look on your face.

“If this doesn’t help you with the scene,” you joked, “I don’t know what will.”

Cooper laughed, his wide smile lighting up his face as he leaned in to kiss you again. “You’re impossible,” he said, shaking his head fondly.

“You love it,” you shot back, grinning.

And he did. He loved everything about you.

For the rest of the night, you stayed wrapped up in each other, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, replaced by something new.

[pastelvelvett-2nd]

Hello there I seen your wrote for Harvey from sdv, I’m not sure if what other sdv characters you will write for but I was wondering if I could request yan!sebastian x gn!Willing!reader. Just some stuff on what type of ya deer he is and how he would act with a so who is ok with his yandere tendencies. Sorry if this sounds confusing at all

Hello! Thank you for reading my Harvey fic!!

It doesn't sound confusing at all, don't worry about it. ^^ I present to you: ✨the yandere emo boy✨

Trigger warnings are, as always, in the tags!

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Yandere!Sebastian x GN!Willing!Reader

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Sebastian would be the type to take a while to warm up to you.

At first, Sebastian didn't think too much of you. He had absolutely no clue why you would decide to move here of all places when you already lived in a place he dreamed to live in. He was a bit jealous, to be frank.

Surprisingly enough, you kept visiting and talking to him, despite his aloof behavior the first time you spoke. The more you'd chat, the more he'd understand your perspective and what drove you to leave the hubub of the city. He began to get to know you better, and you seemed to want to do the same in turn.

Sebastian started awaiting your visits with bated breath, and when you did arrive, he acted a lot less cold than he initially did. He started being more open, and the two of you even shared some of his geeky interests. Your hangout sessions became his favorite part of the day.

With you, he was open and friendly. There was nothing he wouldn't share.

He realized something. How open he was... It's wasn't the norm. A person only shows certain facets of themselves to another. That's the way he used to function, and everyone else seemed to tick the same way. Surely, other people must know other sides of you that he wasn't familiar with.

There were many things he wouldn't find out about you. The thought made him feel sick to his stomach like little else did.

Sebastian would be the type to eventually begin stalking you.

This way, he'd get to know you in a deeper way he ever could just by listening to information you'd offer him. He'd follow you around town, watching as you'd go shopping or talk to the villagers. Sometimes you'd even go drinking on fridays and play videogames on the arcade machines with Sam.

You seemed close to Sam.

Sebastian would be the type to cut anyone off without a second thought, anyone that isn't you.

As much of a loner as Sebastian already was, he gradually talked to Abigail less and less, and Sam... He stopped talking to him alltogether.

Sebastian would be the type to want to do awful things to someone he once called a close friend, all because of you.

He couldn't stand the sight of him anymore, which was a shame, because it seemed like the two of you spent more and more time together.

Sam obviously noticed his change of behavior, and so did you. Sam first tried talking to Sebastian about it, but a curt "I'm busy right now" and a dirty look from him made it clear that he wasn't quite as willing to talk.

When Sam saw Sebastian following you around town, he obviously went and told you about it. You seemed to react... A lot less scared than he expected you to?

"I'll talk to him about it. Don't worry." You told Sam, though he didn't think you talking to him would ease his worries any bit. He practically begged you to talk to tell the police, but you assured him you would take care of it. Sam eventually gave in, albeit reluctantly.

You visited Sebastian like you usually would, acting completely normal as if you never found out he had been stalking to you. If you didn't bring the topic up, then he would've never known that you knew, but you did exactly that.

You confronted him about it.

In such a calm and casual way, Sebastian thought he was dreaming or hallucinating.

You explained that you knew everything. You left out who told you and just said you caught on to it on your own, just to be safe.

You explained you had no problem with it. Sebastian didn't believe you at first. He was upset that you would lie to him.

But you assured him of your honesty. You truly didn't mind. Sebastian's eyes widened, now believing you.

He loved you before this an abnormal amount, but somehow, hearing this made him love you even more.

Sebastian would be the type to build a shrine to you.

He adored you. So much. He felt so grateful that you would accept even this... Intense side of him, so grateful that you treated him with so much love. So happy that you apparently liked him enough to ask him out.

Yes, despite him being head over heels for you, he was too shy to ask. Eventually he would, of course, but you made this so much easier for him.

And you, on the inside, didn't just tolerate his obsessive attention, but you were even pretty flattered about it. Not something you'd directly admit to him, of course.

Neighbors would urge you to not involve yourself with him, but you didn't listen.

Sebastian would be the type to only kill if he considered it necessary.

It wouldn't be out of guilt. Murder came with a lot of complications. Sebastian, being a calculated person that always thinks before he acts wouldn't give in to his violent urges. Except for when he had to, of course.

He just hoped there would be no need for it.

[gnomishcunning]

Hi! Speaking of requests - can I ask for your hcs on Rolan and physical touch? I feel like he's touch-starved but of course would hide it and deny it. Could be sfw or nsfw, however you prefer!

i completely agree that rolan's touch-starved, so this series of headcanons started from that and kinda bloomed into it's whole own thing. i hope you enjoy!

in general-

when you're fighting for your life in hell and then desperately trying to survive the long road from elturel to baldur's gate, some little things fall to the wayside. like processing your emotions, or safe and healthy self-reflection. subsequently, rolan doesn't realize he's touch-starved until he arrives in baldur's gate.

the first inkling he gets is when his apprenticeship to Lorroakan starts. it's the time he's spent away from Cal and Lia in a long while. while at first he enjoys the novelty of privacy and his own room, he's used to laying sandwiched between the two through the night, while Cal snores and Lia tosses and turns.

he sleeps like shit, those first few nights in the tower. the only thing that eventually gets him to sleep is when he starts collapsing into his bed from exhaustion, between working the front counter at Sorcerous Sundries and dealing with Lorroakan's... everything.

it starts to dawn on him with time, the absolute lack of friendly touch in his life. there's no cackling Lia leaning on his shoulder and tugging at his robes, straightening the silver of his apprentice's mantle. there's no fretting Cal, pressing food into his hands or gently nudging his side when he starts getting snippy.

in turn, there's nobody for him to fret over. he can't grab the back of Lia's robes before she charges into danger or trips over her own feet, he can't help Cal with his hair in the morning or ruffle his little brother's hair.

he should be reveling in the freedom, but it's just.

lonely.

he hates the fact he's lonely, he hates the fact he misses a time in his life that was so difficult for him and his family

i can totally see it being a bit of a wake-up call for him, when he realized he'd rather risk his life on the road with his siblings, rather than serve as Lorroakan's apprentice.

the issue doesn't get resolved until Lorroakan's dead, and his sibling move into the tower. thankfully, Rolan isn't put into a position where he needs to verbalize his loneliness. he and his siblings end up kind of clinging to each other - sleeping in the same room, fussing over each other more than necessary - until the netherbrain's defeat, when there isn't an immediate threat to their lives looming on the horizon

casually-

Rolan can be surprisingly touchy. it's an act that's constrained to the ones he loves and very close friends (primarily Cal and Lia, but Tav slips in there too), and he usually disguises it as fussing or his big-brother instincts.

with Lia, he's surprisingly playful. poking, prodding, the occasional horn-grab when she's being particularly annoying. those two can argue like no tomorrow, but it's almost always followed up by a friendly punch to the shoulder.

he's a little gentler with Cal, which stems from the fact both he and Lia view him as the little brother. ruffling his hair, straightening his leather jerkin. very rarely, when he accomplishes a difficult spell, or Cal accomplishes something cool - they'll shamelessly exchange high-fives. Lia almost always calls em both dorks.

with Tav? Tav's a fringe case. they're the only person outside his siblings he can call his friend, which is terribly embarrassing for an Archmage. So Rolan basically vacillates between hot and cold.

he won't go out of his way to find reasons to touch them, he's careful to maintain his and Tav's personal space. they had a tadpole in their head, he doesn't want to accidentally cross any lines about newly-held bodily autonomy. but if the excuse arises from circumstance? well. he'd be remiss to not to comfort his friend.

he fusses, like with Lia and Cal. it's probably a good thing, since Tav has a tendency to throw themselves headfirst into all sorts of danger, and that probably doesn't change post-netherbrain.

he'll clap a hand on their shoulder when they come by Sorcerous Sundries, guide them to sit down and take some time in his office to chat and catch up. gods know when the last time they slowed down - it's his way of insuring they stay out of danger, for at the last half hour they can sit still.

he'll inquire about their business, happily make them a cup of tea, sit down nearby on a sofa or chair. not enough to edge into their personal space, but within easy reaching distance. their cup is never empty, and his fingers will brush theirs when he moves to refill their tea.

if Tav's upset for whatever reason, he won't hesitate to offer a shoulder to cry on, or even a hug. Tav saved his life multiple times over, he'll offer whatever little comforts he can - while silently swearing to hex whoever made them cry. his quiet grumbles make Tav laugh, and he counts that as a win.

if rolan has romantic feelings for tav-

Hahahahaha ohno.

he was hot and cold beforehand? now he's just hot. like, constantly blushing, genuinely delighted to see Tav and seemingly incapable of being chill about it. he's needy, and in terrible denial about it.

his fussiness gets turned up to a 10, and through the right lens, it's almost protective. the friendly hand on Tav's shoulder turns into 'whenever they're in his immediate vicinity'. friendly pats, guiding hands on their back or elbow if they're maneuvering through a crowd

A lot of things are offered under the guise of being a gentleman. if they're somewhere in public with notable people, he'll offer his arm to 'escort' them. he's the Archmage of Ramazith's Tower accompanying the Hero of Baldur's Gate, it's the least he can do!

i like to imagine Rolan thinks he has perfect control over his tail, when in reality, it's the exact opposite. he subconciously emotes all the goddamn time.

this a big problem, when he's interacting with Tav, because they're (a) his friend, and (b) his crush. it tends to curl in the space between them when Tav stands nearby, and if they're sitting down it'll loop around their ankle without him noticing. the spade typically won't stay still, and it's usually Tav's giggling as it flicks over their skin that clues him in to his faux-pas.

he ends up spending a lot of time lying about tiefling body language if Tav's not one.

if they are? Well. He practically invents a new shade of red with how deep he blushes

it really isn't hard to tell rolan has feelings for you, because he's kinda. all over you, seeking physical touch in a way that supersedes what he's expressing with his words. just don't tell him, bc he'll probably spontaneously combust and then never leave the tower, ever again

when the confession finally comes? he's stuttering and red-faced, but he manages the words, and when Tav wraps their arms around his neck, he just. kinda collapses, wrapping his arms around their waist, burying his face in their hair, purring up a storm. he's spent too long dreaming about the way they would feel against him to maintain any pretenses of being above it all.

in a relationship-

finally finally finally, Rolan can be needy without excuse or embarrassment.

learning Tav returned his feelings was genuinely a relief, because he wasn't sure how long he could maintain the facade. like he wasn't already blatantly transparent in the first place buddy

if they're in his vicinity, He's Touching Them

holding their hand, wrapping his tail around their ankle, gently embracing them from behind while they're making dinner. If you sit in separate chairs, he's scooting closer so he can nudge your knee with his own under the table, or caress their thigh.

Tav's not even safe when sleeping. Rolan will migrate across the bed through the night to find them. please be prepared to wake up in a tangle of limbs, with tails and horns in uncomfortable places.

Given how big Rolan is with physical affection, it's no surprise it's one of his biggest love languages as well, in terms of receiving. please, give him affection.

this man melts for the little things. like when Tav strokes his hand with their thumb when holding hands, or carding their fingers through his hair, or scratching at the base of his horns

it's embarrassingly easy to get him to start purring

the thing that gets him to blurt out 'i love you' for the first time, probably no more than a month into the relationship, was when Tav came up behind him and started working his shoulders after a long day hunched over his desk

[misshoneyimhome]

But with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow I William Nylander & Matthew Knies - Part one

Summary; A quote by Hector Urquhart goes "One man's rubbish may be another's treasure" - however, what happens, when the first man realises that it wasn't rubbish after all?

Other notes: Hey there, babes! So, this idea sparked from the Woll x Knies threesome request, and I couldn't resist working more with the sweetest freshman 😉 Before we dive in, I want to give a quick shoutout to @couldawouldashoulda50 for being my co-pilot on this journey - Thanks for putting up with all my rambling 💓🙏🏼 Also, just a heads up, this will be posted in two (or maybe three) parts because it ended up being a bit longer than planned 🙃 So, without further delay, I hope you enjoy it!

Tropes & Warnings; William Nylander x Matthew Knies x reader, Friends to lovers; jealousy; 18+ smut; fingering, protected penetrative sex (p in v), mention of oral sex (f and m receiving);

Word count; 6K+

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Your body felt numb, achy, and weak. Yet your mind was completely blissed out, soaring with ecstasy, and flooded with endorphins.

Breathing was difficult in the heavy air of the room, saturated with the scent of raw, passionate sex that hung in the air as the warmth between the two bodies flanking you enveloped you.

The memories of how you'd got here were hazy, yet there was no trace of regret. Your heart raced in your chest as tingles radiated through your core after the intense encounter. Yet, pure happiness surged through your veins, joy coursing through your bloodstream.

-

It was just before the season kicked off when you found yourself alone with William Nylander for the first time. During a night out in Toronto, the charming Swede caught your eye, and after a few minutes of exchanging glances, he finally made his way closer to you, effortlessly charming you with his dazzling blue eyes and cheeky smile.

You had moved to the city about a year ago, where your friendly and outgoing roommate had introduced you to some of her friends. Yet what she hadn't mentioned beforehand was that some of these friends happened to be players for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

You’d naturally tried to keep your cool and play the role of a casual friend whenever you were around the team and their social circles. And while you had gotten to know most of the guys on a friendly level, it never went beyond that.

That all changed on the night when you couldn't ignore the attraction you felt towards the Swedish hockey star. And when you shared a moment of connection amidst your mutual friends, you had a feeling that the night was going to be something special.

And you were right. William certainly made it a night to remember.

After a few more hours of chatting and occasional gentle touching, he edged in closer and whispered seductive words in your ear. His breath sent a shiver down your spine, and his words set off a tingling heat between your legs. There was simply no way you could resist him.

So, as soon as your roommate left with some random guy, quickly checking if you were okay to get home alone, you seized the opportunity to invite William back with you. To which he happily agreed.

Since both of you were mindful of the upcoming hockey schedule and the importance of staying in good shape, none of you had too much alcohol in the system, making you both aware of your actions.

And to say the sex was good would be an understatement. William took his time, starting with lots of kissing. His skilled mouth felt perfectly matched with yours, and as both of you became increasingly turned on and eager, he used his thick fingers to stimulate your core, stretching your entrance while circling your clit, ensuring you reached climax at least once.

Once you were wet and ready for him, he put on a condom and began slowly entering you in the missionary position. However, the tender, slow lovemaking didn't last long as the heat in your bedroom intensified. Both of you were too aroused to hold back, quickly transitioning to other positions.

First, you angled yourself on William's shoulder, allowing him to penetrate deeper and harder. Then, with both of your legs against his chest as he knelt back, he thrust into you vigorously.

At this point, your mind was already lost in a blissful haze as you gripped onto the pillowcase behind your head, and your muscles tightening around William's member. With each thrust, he stimulated your walls, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm.

And as he felt himself nearing climax as well, he released your legs, swiftly pulling out before using his strength to turn you onto your stomach. Lifting your buttocks slightly for better access, he entered you again, filling you up as he hit a different angle.

Your breaths were heavy, moans blending as his hips collided against your cheeks. Gripping the sheets beneath you, William's pounding drove you both over the edge into ecstasy, reaching climax simultaneously.

It had been uncomplicated yet deeply satisfying sex, far better than most first times with a new partner. It didn't feel rushed or impersonal; it was passionate and genuine, despite the absence of romance or deeper emotions. It was simply perfect. Your bodies had moved in sync, and both of you experienced profound pleasure.

However, after the wonderful one-night stand, William wanted to clarify that it was all it was to him – at least for now. While he knew he really liked you, he emphasised that this season he wouldn't have the time or energy to focus on dating. Instead, his priority would be his hockey career, so if the two of you were to continue anything, it would be limited to casual hook-ups and friendly get-togethers.

And, you didn't really have any objections. William was a good friend, someone you felt a connection with, and had shared interests with. Moreover, he was exceptionally attractive, and after just one encounter, feeling his body against yours, you couldn’t deny the temptation of doing it again. You’d slowly come to know him well, and despite the tiny hope of building something together, you also respected his desire to keep things non-romantic. So, you agreed on a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement whenever there was time for it.

And already following one of the first friendly matches before the start of the regular season, you shared your second night together. Which once again, was a night filled with multiple orgasms- and this time, you even got to experience William's oral skills, something you had never encountered in such an incredible way with anyone else before.

The creativity you both had with positions was simply fun and exciting. Yet while you alternated between being on top and taking the lead, William always remained the dominant character - except perhaps when you showcased your own oral talents.

In short, it was just a great causal relationship where you shared a profound connection. Both before and following the heated session, you shared laughter and smiles, before you made your way out of his condo. And to no one’s surprise, the two times then quickly turned into three times. And then four times over a few more weeks.

-

As the regular season gradually took shape, William's predictions about his limited free time outside the hockey rink proved accurate. Although you exchanged texts almost daily, sharing memes and Instagram posts, you reminded yourself that there was no deeper meaning to it. It was all just friendly banter and genuine laughter. Or well, perhaps there was a rather flirtatious sense of humour involved, as well as occasional sexual jokes and references.

And truth be told, you cherished the relationship you had with the Swede. Since he didn’t require much attention from your side, it gave you ample opportunity to get to know everyone else around the team better. So, you began spending more and more time with some of the girls, going out for brunches and having girls’ nights-in to watch the hockey matches, as well as frequenting the arena more often than before.

So, as weeks turned into months, you slowly grew closer to the other players. Whether it was dinners at the Marners’ or social gatherings with the team, you found yourself welcomed into the tightly knit circle. Something beyond what you had ever imagined your life would be like living in Toronto.

And among all the newly formed relationships, one stood out in particular. You weren’t entirely sure what sparked it, but as if out of nowhere, freshman Matthew Knies walked straight into your heart and stole it.

Perhaps it was the first time you were carrying too many iced coffees for the ladies and almost spilled them, if it hadn’t been for the young forward's help. Or maybe the connection began when he nearly ran you over near the training rink, his focus solely on navigating, oblivious to your presence.

But regardless, a connection quickly blossomed. What started as light laughter and sweet exchanges gradually evolved into coffee walks and exploring the hidden gems of the city, whenever he wanted to give the Tavares family some private time. As you knew what it was like to be new to the city, and since it wasn’t too long ago for you, you offered him company if he ever needed a break from hockey -to which he gladly accepted. And as you spent more and more hours together, you couldn’t help but feel something stirring within you.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but one thing was certain: it felt good.

Similarly, Matthew was slowly developing some kind of feelings for you as well. As he had recently ended things with his ex-girlfriend due to the distance, he found a void in his heart that needed filling. And your sweet laughter, quirky jokes, and endless storytelling about anything and everything filled that void for him.

At first, it didn’t feel romantic or anything of the sort, especially since he wasn’t seeking a relationship; you were just two good friends enjoying each other's company. And despite the little age gap, he felt like an equal. You helped him move into his new flat, shared your best easy cooking tips, while he introduced you to playing NHL on PlayStation and played a few tunes on his guitar for you. It was a simple yet profound friendship.

And as the hockey season then unfolded with its highs and lows, the emotional roller-coaster began to influence your friendships. If he ever needed a tight hug or wanted to call you while on the road just to talk about something other than hockey, you were there for him.

So, as days passed, your time gradually involved more chats with Matthew Knies, while your friendship with William Nylander softly faded into the background.

You never officially ended things with William; he was simply preoccupied with training, so your communication was limited to social media. Meanwhile, your conversations with Matthew grew deeper and more personal. Gradually, he learned more about your family, career aspirations, and the reasons for your move to Toronto, while he talked about the ups and downs of his recent relationship with his ex-girlfriend and how much he missed home.

It wasn’t until Auston Matthews brought up your and William's previous encounters that it dawned on Matthew what he had happened before he’d entered the picture. Though William had become one of his best friends on the team, he had never mentioned anything about having had a relationship with you. But after a training session, when it was just the two Arizona players left in the locker room, Auston brought it to Matthew's attention.

"He's alright with it, you know," the elder hockey star started. "About you and y/n."

Matthew was a little confused. Why would William have anything against who he was friends with?

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You know, because they had a thing going on – sleeping together and stuff like that," Auston explained, believing Matthew already knew, given his close friendships with both you and William.

"Oh... wait, what?" Matthew's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You didn't know?"

"Well, no... when did they..." Matthew's curiosity peaked.

"Oh, months ago, man... don’t worry about it, it was just before the season started, so..." Auston replied casually.

"Ah, cool... but," the younger teammate pondered whether to delve deeper. "Like, how many times? Did they go out or?"

"Just a few times, I think," Auston shrugged nonchalantly as he rose from his seat to pack his bag. "Hey, Willy's cool, and no, it’s not like they ever dated, so she's all free."

Yet, as Auston left the locker room, leaving Matthew to his own thoughts, he couldn't help but consider talking to William about it, just to be sure and not accidentally create tension with his good friend and one of the greatest players on the team.

And fortunately, the conversation with William went surprisingly smoothly.

"Of course, I don’t mind you hanging out with y/n," William simply chuckled. "I mean, sure, she's my friend and all, and yes, we slept together, but that's it, man."

"Alright, just wanted to make sure there's nothing more between you two," Matthew smiled back at his friend.

"Nah, she's amazing, I get why you want to be around her," William flashed a smile, his body language relaxed as he rested his hand on his hip, while he rubbed his beard with the other. "I mean, I just feel bad I haven't talked more with her myself, so I'm just happy she's got you, man."

Matthew felt a weight lift from his shoulders after his talk with William. While it wasn't entirely uncommon for players to have shared experiences with a girl or two occasionally, it had mostly been just for sex, and not across relationships, at least not to his knowledge.

However, what neither you nor Matthew knew was that William had been thinking a lot about your growing friendship. Initially, he found it sweet and nice that you were chatting with everyone on and around the team, giving him the space he'd said he needed to focus on his game.

But as you gradually stopped flirting with him, both in person and through messages, he started to feel the change sting a little. He knew he was the one who had said there couldn't be more between you than just sex, but when even that didn't happen, he felt as if you were slowly distancing yourself from him. And he was losing you both as a lover and a friend.

So, even though he acted cool and chill about the closeness between you and the freshman, he still couldn’t deny that it got to him. The connection he had shared with you felt almost unique, and he wasn’t ready to let it fade completely.

-

Months had passed since your first night with William, and life in Toronto was nothing short of amazing. You had a lovely group of friends, with most of your nights spent watching hockey matches alongside them, occasionally dining out with the team.

Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that you still missed William deeply. Despite convincing yourself from the beginning that you never harboured any deeper feelings for him, you couldn’t deny the disappointment you felt when your relationship never progressed further or lasted. You simply couldn’t escape the significance of your connection with him and seeing him so often around the rink or when going out, made it clear that you needed to find a way to move on.

And fortunately, your relationship with Matthew helped ease the hurt you were feeling. He was an amazing guy, and to you it almost seemed crazy that his ex-girlfriend had let him go. He was sweet, caring, and surprisingly mature for his age. And you knew you were slowly developing feelings for him.

So, one Friday night, as you were out with some girlfriends not in the hockey group, you shared your troubles, hoping for advice from outsiders.

"If you want my opinion," Bethany spoke, holding her drink as you’d moved from dinner to cocktails. "What you need is closure. Tell this Will directly that you’re over him, cut him out, and then move on with that other guy, since you seem really into him."

You had tried to avoid giving too many details about who your relationships were with to your girlfriends, wary of any misunderstandings getting out to the media. Yet their input did have you thinking.

"I can’t just cut him out... I see him around all the time, he’s part of the group of friends, and..." you tried to explain. "I don’t know... I might still like him a little..." You finally admitted to yourself.

“Well, then I don’t see any other option,” Carol chimed in with a raised eyebrow. “You need to sleep with Matts. The best way to get over a guy is to sleep with another.”

The girls giggled and cheered at her remark, but despite trying to join in the mood, you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach. You weren’t entirely sure if this was truly the way to go. Making a move on Matthew meant there would most likely be no going back to William. But if you let the memories of William, knowing he didn’t feel the same for you, hold you back from developing things with Matthew, you knew you’d regret it too.

So, torn between your feelings for the two men, you ordered another Espresso Martini followed by a Cosmopolitan.

You weren’t exactly tipsy or drunk, but you had just the right amount of liquid courage to steel yourself. And as you parted ways with the girls and made your way to the subway station, you pulled out your phone to find the name of the person you felt a need for calling.

However, as you stood there, hesitating over the 'call' button with your finger, a wave of unease washed over you. And upon glancing to your right, you spotted a group of men staring in your direction.

Initially, you tried to ignore them, but as they slowly edged closer, adrenaline started to course through you. And suddenly, one of them made lewd remarks, prompting you to press the screen.

"You tried to reach William Nylander. Please leave a message after the tone. *beep*"

With a frustrated sigh, you muttered, "Shit..."

The train finally arrived, and you pondered your next move. Since the men appeared to be waiting for the same train, you stopped yourself from entering and watched to see if they did. Breathing a sigh of relief when they did, you remained on the platform and decided to wait for the next one. However, just before the doors closed, two of them stepped back onto the platform.

And this time panic surged within you, so you swiftly switched to plan B.

"Hey," Matthew's voice echoed through the phone, instantly comforting you.

"H-hey, Matts..." your voice quivered slightly, despite your efforts to stay composed. "I hope I'm not disturbing your evening..."

"No, I'm just chilling at home... y/n, are you alright?" His concern was evident in his voice.

"I... I just..." you stuttered, avoiding direct eye contact with the two men but catching them in the corner of your eye. "I'm just feeling a bit..."

"What's wrong?"

But before you could respond, one of the men started heckling you again. "Hey, sweetheart! Lost your way? Need a tour guide? I'll show you a real good time!"

You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself.

"What's going on, y/n?" Matthew's voice was firm. “Who was that?”

"There are... um, some guys, Matts," you whispered, struggling to hold back tears. "It's really uncomfortable, and I just needed to talk to someone..."

"Where are you?"

"I'm..." you paused, gathering your thoughts before informing him about your location.

"Just stay there and try to keep away from the guys... I'll come and get you," Matthew quickly declared.

And before you could even attempt to object, he was already on his way out the door. You had to take in a deep breath as you tried your best to move your feet, feeling anxious as the men didn’t seem to leave you alone. Yet, with a little force, you managed to slowly move from your spot, and wander the platform a little. And with Matthew still on the line, you then cautiously moved towards the exit, avoiding glances back at the unsettling men. However, as you rode the escalator, you inadvertently looked back and spotted them trailing behind you.

"Please tell me you're close..." you whispered urgently. It almost seemed like forever before you were able to escape the uncomfortable situation. Yet thankfully, as soon as you reached street level, you spotted Matthew rolling up in his car, prompting you to hurry towards him.

"Oh my God! Thank you!" you exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, almost throwing yourself at him. "Thank you..."

"Hey, y/n… it’s okay," Matthew's voice was soothing as you gently pulled away, your eyes tinged with tears of frustration. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright..."

You were at a loss for words. It almost felt like he had rescued you. Even though the danger wasn't anything extreme, it had felt that way in the moment, and you were incredibly grateful that he had taken the initiative to come and pick you up without you even having to ask.

"I am... now," you breathed out, attempting to muster a smile.

"Good," Matthew returned the smile as he prepared to resume driving. "Let me take you home then."

It was a smooth ride filled with light giggles and laughter, and you probably thanked him about a thousand times before you reached your apartment building. However, as you were about to exit the car, you hesitated for a moment. Pressing your lips together, you pondered whether to speak your thoughts, yet with a light blush of embarrassment rising to your cheek, you pushed yourself to let the words slip out.

"Matts..." you softly began, your eyes meeting his in the dimmed lights. "Y/rm/n isn’t home, and… I sort of don’t feel like being alone tonight... after what happened..."

Your eyes briefly glanced down at your fingers before returning to meet his gaze. Yet, Matthew just offered you a soft smile.

"Hey, y/n, if you want me to stay with you, I can stay… It's no problem."

It didn’t take much convincing, given that Matthew only wanted you to feel safe. So, as you made your way to your flat and settled onto the sofa, you again couldn’t help but express your gratitude.

"You don’t have to keep thanking me y/n," he chuckled as you offered him something to drink, sitting next to him.

"I know... I’m sorry, it’s just so sweet of you," you flashed him a smile. “I just feel like I owe you something.”

Pausing for a brief moment, Matthew put down his glass and leaned slightly towards you, pressing his lips together before speaking. "Y/n... you owe me nothing - honestly, I’d do anything for you..." he let out a soft breath, his eyes meeting yours in a tender gaze. "I mean... that’s what friends are for, right..." The last part came out softer, and perhaps a little hesitant as he didn’t truly want to have phrased it like that.

Yet, his words hung in the air for a moment as you savoured the moment of the two of you together, alone in the apartment as your roommate was out.

"Right," you smiled. "That's what friends are for," you repeated softly.

Another moment of silence lingered as the two of you just sat there, sharing eye contact. Matthew’s arm draped over the back of the sofa, your body slightly turned towards him, and your knee lightly touching his.

Matthew felt his heart pounding in his chest, his palms a little sweaty. He was a little unsure of your signals, however, as you maintained your focused gaze on him, he suddenly felt a rush of confidence and without much thought, he decided to slowly lean in to close the gap between you.

It was just for a brief moment, yet the quick kiss Matthew shared with you caused your lips to tingle.

"Shit... I’m so sorry," he muttered softly as he quickly pulled away.

But you didn’t want him to feel apologetic. In fact, you had had the same inclination, but lacked the confidence to act on it. "No... Matts, it’s okay," you replied, your tone just above a whisper.

"Really?"

And without any verbal confirmation, you simply just slowly leaned in and connected your lips once more. However, this time, they stayed connected for a little longer.

Gently feeling his smooth mouth on yours, your hand rested on his cheek while his found your hip, and almost in slow motion, your lips moved against each other as you shared your breaths. Then very delicately, both of you parted your lips and carefully let your tongues meet in a sensual dance.

It was a soft and gentle kiss, nothing sloppy or rushed. Then slowly pulling apart, you both let out a breath.

"Just to be sure..." Matthew spoke gently. "You’re not just doing this because of what happened tonight, are you?"

Softly, you shook your head, reassuring him that you’d been thinking the same. And with that understanding, you both aimed for another deep kiss. This one hungrier, and slowly growing more intense as you let your hands gently explore each other, pulling each other close.

With every passing moment, it grew deeper and deeper, sending warmth within you that you hadn't felt since your first night with William. However, as you moved to sit in Matthew’s lap, thoughts of William slowly faded, and you didn't even notice your phone buzzing on the coffee table.

As morning light seeped in through the curtains and you slowly awakened from your slumber, a gentle smile graced your lips as you felt Matthew’s arm enveloping your body. Despite him being clad in sweats, you could feel the warmth of his muscular, bare chest against your back.

You lay there for a moment, listening to the comforting rhythm of his breathing, not quite snoring yet emitting odd noises. And you couldn’t help but relish in the memories of last night.

Nothing overtly sexual had happened between you. Instead, you had spent the evening on the sofa, sharing deep kisses and simply enjoying the connection between you. Although you felt a certain level of attraction towards the younger hockey player, you didn’t want to rush into anything. For once, you wanted to take things slow.

And Matthew seemed to be on the same page as you, despite the evident arousal indicated by the hardness in his sweats. Yet, he remained respectful, and when you both realised how late it was, you decided to retire to bed.

Initially, Matthew had merely intended to ensure you fell asleep, tucking you into your oversized t-shirt and beneath the covers. However, as he lay on the bed beside you, admiring your beauty as you drifted off, he too succumbed to a wave of fatigue and ended up falling asleep with his arm around you.

And upon waking up to find you smiling at him, he had no regrets. “Morning,” his husky voice greeted, his eyes still slowly opening.

“Morning,” you replied sweetly. “Did you sleep alright?” you asked, noticing how his rather large frame occupied a significant space of your 1.5-person sized bed.

"Actually, I did," he chuckled, his voice rough and endearing.

There was a tender moment lingering between the two of you as your eyes met. However, the soft moment was suddenly interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

"What the..." you muttered under your breath, slightly baffled as to who would ring your doorbell early on a Saturday morning.

Yet as you made your way to the hallway and swung the door open, you were met with none other than your Swedish friend.

"Willy..." you breathed out, slightly shocked that he had shown up at your door.

"Good! You’re alive," he spoke perhaps a little too sharply, while his eyes were filled with concern.

"What do you mean?"

"I tried calling you yesterday, after you tried to call me," he explained, his tone softening a tad as he locked eyes with you. "But you didn't answer, so I gave it another shot and texted you... but then you didn't text me back or anything, so I started freaking out a little... I mean... I just wanted to make sure you were alright - so I came here before heading to the morning skate."

You let out a sigh as you listened to his words, a small wave of guilt washing over you to how concerned he’d been. "Shit... Willy, I'm really sorry... I was out with some girls, and then there were these guys making me really uncomfortable," you blurted out suddenly, feeling the need to explain.

"Shit what, hold on... what guys? Y/n are you alright?" he asked, a hint of panic creeping into his voice, feeling the guilt for not answering when you needed help.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine... everything sorted itself out," you reassured him, trying to keep calm. But before you could elaborate, Matthew emerged from your bedroom, throwing on his t-shirt from the night before.

And William's gaze immediately landed on him walking into the hallway. "Kniesy?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"Hey Willy," Matthew replied softly, moving slightly behind you as he greeted his teammate.

"What are you... Did you sleep here..." William started to speak, but his words trailed off as he looked between you and his teammate. "I mean, that’s none of my business..." William shook his head as he processed the situation.

"Willy, no, Matt just stayed here after giving me a lift home," you explained, feeling another twinge of guilt for some reason. You weren't entirely sure why you cared so much about what William thought had happened, yet you sensed it had something to do with your still lingering feelings for him.

"Right, fair enough..." William tried to play it cool, yet he couldn't ignore the flicker of jealousy igniting within him. Though there was a fleeting temptation to punch his mate and teammate, he knew he had no grounds to be jealous. You weren't his to claim, and Matthew had only acted out of concern. So, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb as he collected his thoughts, he spoke again. "Well, uh, guess I'll catch you at practice then,” he nodded towards the younger player.

-

Nothing particularly dramatic went down at morning practice, but there was a bit of tension brewing between the Swede and the lad from Arizona that didn't escape notice.

Despite William making an effort to appear calm and collected about the events of the previous night, he couldn't quite shake the irritation he felt towards himself. He knew he had feelings for you, probably since the first time you spent several nights together, getting intimate in various ways. And as he was aware that he hadn't pursued anything further, he couldn't help but feel some regret now that he saw you moving on with someone else. And not just anyone else – his teammate and close friend.

His frustration was even clear during training, when he couldn't score the way he wanted to, so he knew it was getting to him more than it should. "Fuuuuuck," he muttered to himself after another failed attempt.

Meanwhile, Matthew was unsure how to act around his friend. Part of him wanted to explain himself, to tell William that he had feelings for you, and he didn't feel guilty about it. But the truth was, he did feel guilty. He knew you'd been with William first, and that William hadn't exactly ended things with you – it just sorts of fizzled out. So, he understood that there were still lingering feelings or something between you.

"Alright, that's it for today! See you all later for the game!" Coach Keefe announced, signalling the end of the morning training session.

The locker room was buzzing with anticipation for tonight's match. However, as the boys left one by one, leaving William as the last to finish up, Matthew, sitting just two stalls away, saw an opportunity to address whatever was going on.

"Hey," he approached gently, despite knowing William wasn't in the best mood after practice.

"What's up?"

"I, um... we're good, right?" the younger forward asked. "Like, you and me, we're good..."

William had a feeling of what Matthew was referring to, so as cool as he was, he just shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good, alright,” Matthew nodded.

“I mean, thanks, for… you know being there for y/n,” William then added with a gentle smile, trying his best to hide his complicated feelings still stirring within him.

“Of course, I mean when she called and said she wasn’t alright, it was the only thing I wanted to do…”

William nodded. “Right… yeah, that’s good…”

There was a brief moment of silence as the two boys just sat there and gently nodded in agreement.

“Willy, just to be sure… there’s nothing going on between you two, anymore, right?” Matthew stepped carefully.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… let’s say, I want to make a move on her, ask her out, you know- you’ll be okay with it?”

Pouting his lips William pondered for a moment. Of course, he wouldn’t be okay with it. He still had feelings for you and if Matthew made a move on you, it would probably complicate things even further.

“Well, have you asked her out? I mean, is there like something official going on?”

“Uhm… no but, I guess I might want to… and I wouldn’t want you to be mad if you know she wants it too…”

“Ah… yeah alright…” William thought for a moment. The angel on his shoulder knew he could be the good guy here, admitting his wrongs, yet the devil on the other shoulder told him to play the game, and not give up. “But I mean if there’s nothing official between you… then I can still…. You know, take a shot.”

It was as if small competition was slowly forming. Something neither of the boys truly wanted, yet it started to seem inevitable.

“You want to take a shot?”

“Well, yeah maybe… I mean, I still like her.”

“Yeah, but you also said you didn’t want to date her – you dumped her, remember?”

“I didn’t dump her… I just… I wasn’t ready, alright… I am now, and I mean it’s not like anything has happened between you – it’s just a crush you can get over.”

Though Matthew knew that William had slept with you, and he hadn’t, he still knew that there was something between you and him.  “Well, something’s happened – we made out.”

“You kissed?” William froze a little. “When?”

“Last night… a lot actually…” It was his best card to play, but he knew it held significance.

William pondered again. So, he hadn’t just picked you up and driven you home. You’d invited him inside and made out before you let him sleep in your bed. Something William hadn’t done, as whenever the two of you had had sex, you hadn’t spent the night together.

“Hmm…” Was all he managed to reply, as he gazed into the thin air.

“I’m sorry Willy…. But I like her, and I really think she likes me too… so, maybe it’s best if you just… admit you blew your chance and step aside.”

Matthew felt bold as he spoke the words. He was confident that he had the upper hand, and that William was the fool who’d let you go too soon. Yet, there was one thing he hadn’t considered.

“You know…” William spoke softly, turning his eyes to Matthew. “Last night… before she called you… she called me first…” he let the word hang in the air for a few seconds before speaking again. “So, maybe I haven’t lost her completely… and I don’t think I can step aside… not without trying…”

The air felt heavy as Matthew realised that you might also still harbour feelings for William as well. It almost felt like a knife to the heart as he thought he’d have to fight one of his best friends to win you over, yet he couldn’t let it go. Not at this point. He’d fallen for you, and there was no escaping his feelings.

Meanwhile, William struggled with his own thoughts. Should he really back off and let Matthew go for it with you? Or should he try one last time, knowing that at least he tried to fight for you, and not just give you up that easily? And though he for a moment considered stepping aside, he just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t in his nature to give up. And given the fact that no other woman had ever made him feel the way you had, he wasn’t ready to let you go.