#uncharacteristic of me ig

[racingmiku2018]

how do u even begin to get into the meat n potatoes of a deeply inconvenient personal flaw with someone who isnt used to u being a flawed person in their presence

[yesimwriting]

Normalcy

A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good

Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭

----

The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...

"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."

Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."

The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."

"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.

You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.

"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"

You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?

It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."

He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."

"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"

You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."

"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."

"Comforting."

He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."

"I lost my powers."

Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.

It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.

He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."

He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.

"Educated wish?"

His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."

Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"

In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.

"I never stabbed you."

His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."

He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."

"Well--"

He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."

"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"

There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."

You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."

You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.

"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."

Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."

You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.

You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.

You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.

The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.

Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.

He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.

You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.

"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.

Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.

You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."

He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"

Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."

Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"

"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"

He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."

You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.

You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."

His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.

"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."

After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.

You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.

"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."

Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."

You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."

He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.

You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.

You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."

He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."

An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.

"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."

There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."

You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.

[yourplaywright]

hey did someone say they want more babybee? i say as i shove someone out of the way.

i brought more…. so…. take it ig

“You’re going to get me in trouble!” Jazz hisses, picking B up. The bot dangles down like a roudy newbuild, crossed arms and pout included. Well, that makes sense, since nobody knows how old B is, though it can’t be more than 10 cycles with how underdeveloped some parts of his frame were.

“I was trying to help!” B cries, eyeridges furrowing. “How was I supposed to know that would happen?”

Jazz gestures wildly to the light fixture that, suspiciously, was now shattered and scattered on the floor. “The fact it was swinging didn’t clue you in?”

“Everyone deserves a chance!”

“It is— was— a fragging light!”

B’s shoulders slump. “‘m sorry, Jazz.”

“You should be,” he huffs, glaring at the younger bot through his visor. “Honestly, if you got hurt Elita would flip out. You aren’t, right?”

“Nope!” B gives him a thumbs up.

Jazz shakes his head, feelings simmering down. “I’m sorry for yelling, I just got stressed thinking you were hurt. Check in with Ratchet to make sure you didn’t cut yourself on any glass, alright?”

“Alright.”

—

“What do you mean you can’t find him?”

Elita levels him with a look. “You know what I mean. He’s not in Optimus’ office, he’s not trying to bother me, and Cliffjumper and Hotrod have been racing with Mirage all day.”

“Oh,” Jazz says. “Have you checked with Ratchet in the medbay?”

“Why would B be in the medbay?!”

Jazz raises his servos. “Hey, hey, calm down Dad. I told him to check in with Ratchet after he had a little accident, that’s all.”

“An accident?” Elita places her servos on her hips, looking less than convinced.

“He fell,” Jazz says, not technically lying. “He was totally fine, though, just thought he should get looked over.”

Elita’s face softens. He won’t be maimed, then. “Right. Well, you’re coming with me to check when Ratchet last saw him.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

—

“B hasn’t been in for any checkups,” Ratchet says, scrolling through a datapad. “I think he’s been ignoring the developmental ones, too.”

“Oh,” says Jazz, who’s chance of being murdered have increased fivefold. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Ratchet sighs heavily, squinting at whatever he’s reading. “I need to take his inner energon samples to see if he still has that mineral deficency…”

“We’ll leave you to it, doc,” Elita says, smiling.

“Please don’t send Jazz back to me,” the medic deadpans.

Jazz laughs awkwardly and backs away. “I’ll go look over… here.”

Elita glares. “If I find him first, I’m cutting your pay.”

“If I do?”

“Your reward is survival.”

Jazz takes the hint, sprinting down the hallway.

—

B messed up. He messed up and Jazz was mad at him.

He covers his mouth to stifle another sob, curling up more. His frame hurts, glass shoved into delicate joints and under thin plating. His digits ache. It hurts and he deserves it, doesn’t he? He messed up, like he always does.

They’ll realise how useless he is and then they’ll send him back to sublevel 50 because that’s the best place for a useless glitch like him—

Above him, something creaks. He glances up and yelps quietly when he sees Laserbeak staring back at him.

“Wh- How did you get in here?”

Laserbeak chirps, hopping down and landing on his shoulder. He cringes a bit and the cassessete starts rumbling gently. 

“You really shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, which just makes Laserbeak hunker down more. “Alright, alright.”

He shuffles to place the cassessete in his lap, messing with some of the kibble on his wings. “It’s a long way from the base,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

The cassessete hops around, doing an uncharacteristically obvious basic scan. B blinks, realising his own energon levels are low. “Oh.”

Laserbeak nudges his helm gently, before taking off out an open window he never noticed before.

“That’s one hidey hole compromised,” B says, standing up on shaky legs and sliding out of the storage room.

He presses himself against the wall as a blur of colour rushes by. He recognises the shades of blue, white, and black as belonging to Jazz. 

… he should probably help him.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Routine Check Up

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: The good Dr. Lecter stops by to check up on Will Graham's favorite pet.

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, i think i was possessed while writing this, Plot? What fucking plot?, light petplay... but in the female gaze ig, Dom/Sub dynamic, light dehumanization, threesome, Hannibal gets to put his PhD to good use,Oral, unprotected p in v (don't you dare) ,dirty talk, self indulgent afffff, ....breeding kink?

A/N: I DECIDED TO SAY FUCK IT. @glitchedpup dedicating it to you here too!

---------

You woke to the sound of a car pulling up the gravel road, and Will’s dogs barking outside.

On the bedside clock, it read eight thirty AM. You usually woke up around the same time as Will, but you supposed he’d let you sleep in a little longer this time. It was a Sunday, after all.

Moments later, there was knocking on the front door. Will padded over from the kitchen and he opened it to reveal Hannibal. You sat up in the bed, curious, and crawled forward a little to get a better look.

“Hannibal,” he greeted in an even tone, even if you could tell he was a little surprised. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just a routine check-up, Will,” he said with a small shrug, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have to keep her healthy, right?”

“No courtesy call beforehand? That’s uncharacteristic of you,” Will noted, stepping aside to let him in. “I suppose you meant to surprise us.”

Once more, Hannibal smiled enigmatically, a glint of mischief in his amber eyes. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”

He hung up his jacket by the door, and Will motioned for you to stand up and come closer. 

You shot him a quizzical look, but made no questions as you scurried over to them, standing at attention next to Will.

“Hello, there,” Hannibal said amicably. “Mind if I take a look at you?”

You nodded quickly, almost eagerly. Will raised an eyebrow at this, but Hannibal kept his eyes on you. 

This was one of his little games, a constant reminder of who had the upper hand. You knew what he called you to others — Will Graham’s favorite pet. 

Still, you didn’t mind playing along, and it seemed like Will didn’t either. You weren’t sure what that said about you, but you found it wasn’t quite as mortifying as one might expect.

“I’ll need her to…” Hannibal trailed off, gesturing at your figure.

“Strip,” Will commanded, barely glancing at you.

You did as told, eyeing the doctor peripherally. He was appraising you as well, slightly impressed at your unflinching obedience. 

You’d been well trained, after all.

You weren’t wearing much, just one of Will’s t-shirts and cotton underwear, both of which fell unceremoniously to the floor. You didn’t cover yourself as you were bared to the room, instead keeping your expression neutral and arms at your sides.

“Where do you need me?” You asked, voice low.

“Just where you are is fine,” he said, setting down his bag. “Now let’s see…”

First, he checked your pulse, fingers resting gently on your wrist as he looked down at his watch. When his fingers moved to your neck, you kept eye contact as he felt your lymph nodes, tracing up to your jaw, behind your ear and down to your collarbones.

His eyes watched your throat work as you swallowed hard, glancing at Will. Hannibal knew just how much you trusted him to guide you. You cared for him the same way he cared for you, and surrender was a price you gladly paid for it.

For a long time, you had a constant need to be in control of not just yourself, but also your surroundings. Every detail had to be accounted for; Every single possibility dissected and analyzed. It was essential for survival. 

That was until you met Will, and you grew sick and tired of control. There were no more ruins to scurry out of, or prevent. Devotion was all that was left, and that was something Hannibal could understand.

“Open your mouth, please. Let’s see these teeth,” Hannibal instructed. 

Once more, you did as told. He hummed in thought as he looked over your canines and front teeth. Then he stretched your lips back with two fingers so he could see all of your molars, too. 

“Good,” he murmured under his breath, and for a brief, wild moment, you wanted to sink your teeth into his hand. 

His thumb then swiped over your bottom lip, and it was then that you gave in to your urges. You nipped at it, holding it between your teeth for a moment.

“Ah, ah,” Will tsked, reaching over and grabbing the back of your neck firmly. 

He gave you a stern look, and you let go of Hannibal’s thumb grudgingly.

Hannibal chuckled, delighted. “Sharp, as expected. Apologies, had to coax that out of her.”

Playing with fire, you thought, figuring that was exactly what he wanted. You wondered if you’d get a better taste of him at some point.

With a stethoscope — because he took his role very seriously — he checked your heartbeat and your breathing, both of which seemed to quicken a little at his nearness.

“No need to be nervous,” he said reassuringly, but his smile told you he was very much enjoying making you feel that way.

The end of the stethoscope was cold against your flesh, which made you shudder a little. Your nipples hardened, too, which was a detail he did not miss.

A soft, pleasured hum escaped you as his fingers grazed the skin right under your breasts, his touch not entirely clinically detached.

“Quiet, now. Let the doctor do his work,” Will chastised.

For his part, Hannibal inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Someone’s in heat,” he noted, sharing a look with Will. “I could take care of it, if you like.”

Will’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Hmm, that explains why she’s been humping my leg. But is it necessary?”

“You wouldn’t want to leave her unattended, would you?”

You tried not to let a traitorous blush spread across your cheeks at Will’s analyzing gaze, dipping your chin slightly in confirmation.

“I might just have to check your temperature, too,” Hannibal added, tilting his head to one side. “Could I have you bend over the couch, please?”

Will nodded towards it, and off you went, kneeling on the armrest and placing your hands on the cushion. 

You kept still as the doctor approached with slow, easy steps. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before dipping lower, to the source of your ache.

Will sat beside your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. He watched you shoot Hannibal a frustrated look as he teased you, fingers gliding up your slit. He gripped your chin just as you bared your teeth, wanting to bite once more.

Then, you swallowed back a low whine as he easily sank his middle finger into you. You heard his huff of amusement as you pushed your hips back needily.

“Running a little hot…” Hannibal mused. “We’ve got to remedy that, don’t we?”

You shot him another look, pleading this time. Your pupils were blown wide with desire, almost swallowing your irises, and your breaths came out long and slow.

You gripped one of Will’s arms, urging him towards you, desperate to touch him as well.

“Think you deserve a treat?” He murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Go on, earn it.”

Will scooted closer, your head now on his lap. You breathed in his familiar scent, and you licked his crotch through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Hannibal chuckled. “Oh, but she’s being so good…”

Will glanced up at him. “Hmm, she’s been showing off a little for you. Can’t let that become a habit.”

Hannibal’s hand retreated, and a complaint was starting to form in your throat when you heard the metallic clink of his belt, followed by the rasp of his zipper being pulled down. 

You also heard a wet pop as he sucked your arousal off his finger, loving the taste of you. Oh, he’d definitely need to try it directly from the source, too. 

“Not to worry, we’ll take good care of her,” he purred, bending closer to your ear. “Just needed some extra attention is all, didn’t you?” 

You nodded, spreading your knees further apart. Will’s hand rested on your head as you continued to lap at him. You felt him hardening against your insistent tongue, lips tracing the outline of his shaft. The smell and the heat of him were making you delirious with lust, driving any sort of coherency out the window.

Behind you, Hannibal spread you open with both hands in order to get a better look at his next meal. He knelt, pushing his slacks down and gripping himself. 

His hot breath blew against your soaked core for a mere second before he licked you clit to ass in one long, languid stripe. His expert tongue then dipped into the deep well of your cunt, and you felt the vibration of his groan.

He stroked himself as he continued his ministrations, closing his eyes as all his other senses were invaded by you.

You let out a choked whine, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed your cheek against Will’s growing bulge. He had you lift your head as he shifted his hips, pulling off his boxers and finally letting you get your reward. 

You practically melted at the taste of him as you took him into your mouth — musky and slightly salty. You knew the exact way he liked to be tended to, guiding yourself by the sounds he made.

You moaned around him, and he gathered your hair in his fist, keeping it away from your face. He kept your head down for a moment when he was all the way down your throat, and you breathed slowly through your nose. 

“There we go,” Will sighed, petting your head. “That’s it.”

Your mind went blank for a moment as Hannibal lapped up all your arousal with gusto. Will let you come up for air, gently pulling you up by the hair to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss. 

Before your head descended once more, you looked at him, glassy-eyed and smiling beatifically. The same adoration was mirrored in his eyes as he tenderly ran the back of his finger down your cheek.

“Atta girl, taking it all so well,” Hannibal praised, standing up. “I think you’re ready for me.”

He slowly eased into you, letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. You sucked in a breath, adjusting to the delicious stretch. Instinctually, you moved against him, seeking much more friction than he was currently providing.

“Don’t have to do… much of the work myself,” He grunted, grabbing your hips in a half-attempt to slow you down. “So very eager, this one.”

“Loves to please. Everything she gets, she earns,” Will said proudly. “Makes it so much better, doesn’t it?”

“Well trained indeed.”

At such an angle, you could feel Hannibal reaching impossibly deep, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull. You moaned against Will’s skin, teeth digging lightly into his inner thigh. 

As bad as you might want it, you knew he wouldn’t let you make him come with your mouth. He was next in line after Hannibal, and he intended to leave a lasting impression. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want you to keep touching him, though. 

Hannibal’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, in which he chased his release. You were already clenching him hard, close to the edge yourself. Then one of his hands reached between your legs, rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles.

Heat spread throughout you like wildfire, all-consuming. You reached back to grip one of his forearms, unsure if it was a plead for mercy or for him to never stop. It didn’t take long for you to come undone, mouth slack in pleasure as you moaned wantonly, melting into the heady feeling of them both.

Soon after, Hannibal’s hips stuttered, and then they stopped when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You could feel him pulsate as he was gripped in his own euphoria, branding you much like Will had done countless times before. 

Once more, Will kissed you, murmuring a soft good girl against your lips. Hannibal pulled out of you, panting as he bent forward to plant a kiss on your spine. 

“I think she can give us another one,” he said. “In fact, I highly recommend it.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Doctor’s orders.”

He moved you onto the couch cushions as they switched places. Hannibal presented himself before you, leaning back with a lupine sort of smirk.

Will’s thrusts were swift and savage as you licked Hannibal clean. It was only polite to tend to the doctor after being so very helpful. Your tongue was especially enthusiastic as you neared your second orgasm. 

His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to bruise. By his more unrestrained sounds, you could tell he was right there with you. When he came, his body slumped forward, chest flush against your back.

His hot breath was against your neck as he pressed himself tighter against you. He was still buried to the hilt, making sure no drop was wasted.

When he unsheathed himself from you, you collapsed onto the couch, body spread between the two of them. You felt boneless and utterly sated, swimming in dopamine.

“Good job. That should hold you for some time, hmm?” Hannibal said, looking down at you resting on his lap.

Will huffed in amusement, caressing your legs. “You’ll find she’s quite insatiable.”

The two shared a look, all too happy to shoulder the so-called burden of your constant hunger.

“You should’ve just said you missed me, Doctor Lecter,” you said with a teasing grin. “Could’ve saved us the theatrics.”

He smirked. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”

----------

[starryeyedfooll]

✧˖* Taming the cat ✧˖*

Xavier from Love and Deepspace

MDNI! This is 18+ content, if you are a minor I will tell on you to someone ig..

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Oh… so they really are sensitive,” she murmurs, leaning closer, her hand grazing along Xavier’s ear, watching as his entire body seems to respond to her touch. His reaction is immediate. A soft, involuntary whimper slips past his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as a faint blush creeps over his cheeks and ears.

“Didn’t think you’d react like that, Xavier…” she purred. Ha.. get it, purr..

His eyes snap open, a slight glare softened by the flush still dusting his face. “Watch it. Just because I have these… additions doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going soft.”

She raises a brow, letting her fingers trace slowly from his ear down along his neck, her touch lingering just enough to test him. “Well then, maybe I should find out just how sensitive you are,” she whispers, her voice brushing against the curve of his ear.

Before he can respond, his hand closes around hers, guiding her touch lower. His gaze locks onto hers, daring yet vulnerable, a challenge and a promise all at once. A smirk tugs at his lips, but there’s a softness to it, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand while his tail curls around her wrist, keeping her close as if savoring every second of this charged, intimate moment.

Her fingers drift over his chest, tracing his firm torso, and his breath hitches in anticipation, his eyes fixed on her with a look that’s uncharacteristically wide, vulnerable. She lets her hand linger on him, brushing lower, feeling every subtle shift in his breathing, every tremor that betrays his self-control. And just as she’s about to pull back, her hand brushes over the growing tension between his legs, feeling his length harden under her touch.

He inhales sharply, a faint, needful sound slipping out as he watches her, caught between challenge and submission. He tries to keep his composure, but the soft whimper that escapes him is undeniable, and it only makes her bolder.

“Oh? So you’re actually desperate for me, Xavi?” she asked sweetly, letting her hand linger, applying just enough pressure to make his hips press up to meet her touch.

A flush darkens his cheeks, and his tail flicks anxiously. “You think you can handle me?” he whispers, but his voice wavers, barely holding the confidence he usually exudes.

He trails off, a slight pout forming on his lips as her fingers move against him with slow, teasing intent. Every shift of her touch makes him gasp, his body reacting instinctively, every movement betraying just how desperately he wants her to continue. His eyes are pleading, softer than she’s ever seen them, his breaths coming in quick, needy bursts as he tries to hold himself together.

She lowers herself in front of him, her fingers gliding down to unbutton his pants, taking her time as she frees him from the fabric, and his hard length springs free, throbbing with need. His breaths come shallow now, his tail curling tightly around her wrist, holding her close as she wraps her fingers around him, her movements slow and deliberate.

“You’re beautiful like this, Xavier,” she whispers, savoring the way he trembles under her touch, every teasing stroke drawing out a soft, helpless moan as his body shifts to meet her rhythm. His hands hover at his sides, clenched, as if he’s barely holding himself back, his mouth parting as he lets out a faint, breathless whine.

“Please…” he murmurs, his voice low and shaky, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of frustration and need. His tail flicks restlessly, and he lets out a soft, defeated sigh, finally giving in to the pleasure as her hand moves over him.

She leans in, letting her breath fan over his length as she trails her lips along his skin, watching the way his whole body shudders in response. He’s trembling now, his breaths unsteady as she lets her mouth close around him, taking him in slowly. His head falls back, a whimper slipping from his lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrenders to the pleasure.

He’s almost pouting now, his hands finding their way to her hair, his fingers threading through it as he guides her gently, his body responding to every movement. “Damn… you’re really going to… make me lose it…” he whispers, his voice a strained, desperate murmur.

She takes her time, drawing out each reaction as her mouth moves over him, her touch gentle yet teasing, until he’s left gasping, his hips shifting forward, his breathing ragged. His tail flicks anxiously, wrapping around her arm, and he lets out a low, frustrated groan, his usual confidence eroding as he succumbs to the sensations.

But then something shifts in him—a spark returning to his gaze as his fingers tighten in her hair, and the smirk returns to his lips. “Alright… enough playing around,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a deeper, commanding tone. Before she can react, he’s guiding her back up, his hands firm on her waist as he pulls her close, his eyes dark and intent.

His lips find hers in a heated kiss, his hands trailing down her sides with a newfound possessiveness, and he breaks the kiss just long enough to let out a quiet, predatory growl. “You had your fun, but now it’s my turn.”

In an instant, he’s guiding her backward, pressing her against the wall as his hands roam over her, his fingers grazing over every sensitive spot with a precision that makes her breath hitch. His lips trail down her neck, finding the spots that make her melt, and he smirks against her skin as she trembles under his touch.

“Thought you could tease me and get away with it?” he murmurs, his voice a low purr in her ear. His hands slide down her back, pulling her closer, his mouth capturing hers again as he takes control, every movement deliberate, assured.

He shifts, pressing his body against hers, his tail curling around her leg as his hand slides up to cup her face, his thumb brushing along her cheek. “Now, you’re going to see just how sensitive I can make you,” he whispers, his voice filled with promise as he pulls her even closer, his gaze holding hers with a dark, intense focus.

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ UNSEE ! - satoru gojo / 10.15 / kinktober

CW: usage of a bullet vibrator, y/n is blindfolded, female anatomy, she/her, tiny bit of cunnilingus, petnames, gojo is smitten, body worship ig u can say as well.

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: made it on time and posted on the correct day lmao. i got writers block at the WORST moment possible so yeah. i hope you enjoy. leave a like or reblog to show support!

“c’mon, angel, just trust me on this,” gojo said, holding out a black silk blindfold with a mischievous glint in his eyes. y/n eyed him skeptically, crossing her arms. “satoru, i’m exhausted. it’s been a long day, and i’m not in the mood for whatever you’re planning.”

he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush his thumb over her cheek. “that’s exactly why i want to do this. you deserve a little break. you’ve been running yourself ragged.”

she sighed, torn between the desire to sink into the nearest pillow and the undeniable pull of those playful blue eyes. “and the blindfold?” she questioned. “it’s part of the surprise. trust me, you won’t have to lift a finger. i’ll take care of everything.”

“satoru, i’m really not in the mood for one of your games right now…”

his expression softened, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. “it’s not a game, i promise. i just want to show you how much i appreciate you. let me do that?”

y/n hesitated, feeling the warmth of his hand on her face. as much as she wanted to argue, the sincerity in his eyes made her waver. “fine. but if this gets too ridiculous, i’m stopping.”

he chuckled, clearly pleased with himself as he tied the blindfold over her eyes. “you won’t regret this, i promise.”

she felt him guide her, his hands gentle but firm as he led her backward. the familiar softness of her bed brushed against her legs, and he eased her down, guiding her to lie back. he was uncharacteristically quiet, his touch slower and more deliberate than usual.

“satoru… what exactly are you planning?” she asked, unable to hide the nervous edge in her voice.

“just relax, angel,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i told you, tonight is about you. you don’t have to do anything. just feel.”

y/n took a breath, her body instinctively tensing as she tried to adjust to the darkness behind the blindfold. she couldn’t see anything, but she felt every movement, every brush of his hand over her skin, more intensely than usual. it was disarming, almost unsettling, but there was a strange thrill in the uncertainty.

he trailed his fingers down her arm, his touch light and teasing. “you’re always so busy taking care of everything. tonight, let me take care of you.”

she shivered as his hands moved to her shoulders, gently massaging away the day’s tension. his lips followed, pressing feather-light kisses down her neck, and she found herself relaxing despite her earlier annoyance, melting into the warmth of his touch.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tender.

“yeah… it’s just…” she hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. “it’s different, not being able to see you.”

“that’s the point,” he said, his tone playful again. “just focus on what you feel.”

she hummed, surrendering to the sensation as his hands roamed over her body, exploring in ways that made her skin tingle. the darkness heightened everything—the warmth of his breath against her collarbone, the slow, deliberate way his hands traced over her curves.

he shifted, his weight pressing down beside her, his mouth brushing against hers. the kiss was slow, almost reverent, as if he were savoring every second. without the distraction of sight, she was hyper-aware of every detail—the softness of his lips, the way he tasted, the subtle hint of mint on his breath.

“you have no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. y/n swallowed, feeling her cheeks heat. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“maybe,” he said, pressing another kiss to her lips, deeper this time, filled with an intensity that left her breathless. “but i’m also crazy about you.”

he moved slowly, taking his time as he undressed her, his hands gliding over her skin in ways that made her shiver. he had never been this gentle, this attentive, and it was almost overwhelming, the way he worshipped every inch of her.

he was right there, surrounding her, and yet the blindfold made it feel like he was everywhere at once, his touch lingering on her skin long after he had moved on. each movement, each whisper, each press of his lips against her body built the tension between them, until she was aching for him in a way that had nothing to do with sight.

“satoru…” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “shh,” he said, his voice a soft command. “let me take care of you. let me show you how much i love you.”

and with that, he moved over her, his hands and mouth tracing a path that left her trembling beneath him. she was lost in him, surrounded by the darkness and the warmth of his touch, completely surrendered to the man who somehow always knew exactly how to unravel her.

gojo’s lips grazed the sensitive skin of y/n’s neck, sending shivers down her spine. he started with soft, teasing kisses, exploring the contours of her collarbone with an almost reverent touch. each kiss was deliberate, filled with warmth and affection. he paused to suck gently at the spot just beneath her ear, a playful bite that made her let out a long sigh, the sensation igniting a fire within her.

“you’re so responsive, angel,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and sultry. “i love how you react to me.”

y/n couldn't even respond, breathless as he continued his exploration, trailing kisses down the delicate line of her neck, each one lingering longer than the last. he took his time, savoring every inch of her, as if he were committing the feeling of her skin against his lips to memory. she leaned into him instinctively, feeling the pull of his warmth, every kiss stoking the flames of desire within her.

with each kiss, gojo moved lower, his hands sliding to her waist, fingers dancing along the hem of her top before he slipped it off, revealing her bare skin. he pressed soft kisses to her waist, tracing the curves of her body with his lips.

as he kissed along her waist, he made his way to her inner thighs, taking his time to explore the sensitive skin there. his kisses were feather-light at first, teasing her, making her squirm. y/n bit her lip, trying to suppress a whimper as he pressed a kiss just above her thigh, a deliberate tease that left her wanting more.

“satoru,” she breathed, her voice thick with need, but he simply smiled against her skin, enjoying the power he had over her.

he planted kisses along her inner thighs, each one deeper than the last, building the anticipation. his lips danced around the sensitive area, driving her wild with longing. he could feel her body responding, the way she instinctively opened up for him, urging him closer.

“please…” y/n gasped, her heart racing as he continued to tease her with his kisses, refusing to give in just yet. the sensation of his warm breath against her inner thighs sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

“just a little longer, angel,” he said, his voice a playful whisper, as he lavished attention on her skin, making sure she felt every kiss. “i want to hear you.”

his kisses became bolder, more deliberate, as he explored every inch of her, leaving trails of fire wherever he touched. y/n could hardly think, lost in the sensations, the way his lips moved against her. he knew exactly how to take her to the edge, to make her crave him even more, and she was helpless to resist, completely surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her.

“you’re driving me crazy,” y/n confessed, breathless and wanting. “good,” he replied, a smirk evident in his voice. “i want you to feel everything. let me take care of you, angel.”

and with that, he pressed his lips to her inner thighs once more, drawing out every gasp and sigh, as he skillfully navigated the thin line between teasing and tantalizing, completely focused on her pleasure.

gojo’s fingers traced along y/n’s body, moving slowly, until he reached for something from the bedside table. she could hear him fiddling with something, a soft whirring sound catching her attention.

“satoru?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.

“shh, angel,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “trust me, you’re going to like this.”

she felt the subtle vibration against her thigh first, the sensation both foreign and thrilling. gojo’s hand guided the small bullet-shaped toy, moving it in slow, teasing circles. he brought it to the sensitive skin along her inner thighs, just barely brushing it over the places where she ached for him most.

the soft hum of the toy mixed with the sound of her quickening breaths, each gentle press making her toes curl. he dragged the toy along her bud, letting it hover over the most sensitive spot, drawing out a soft gasp from her lips.

“h-holy…” she whispered, her voice trembling as he continued to move the toy in deliberate patterns, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. she couldn’t see him, but she could feel his eyes on her, savoring every reaction.

“that’s it, angel,” he murmured, pressing the toy against her bud in slow, rhythmic pulses, the vibrations building steadily. “just feel. let go.”

she squirmed under his touch, the sensation of the toy mixed with the warmth of his hands as he held her steady, keeping her close. his lips brushed against her neck, trailing kisses as he gradually increased the intensity, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“satoru, please…” she gasped, completely lost in the sensations as he continued his gentle assault, driving her wild with need.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing one final kiss to her lips as she surrendered to him, the vibrations and his tender touch overwhelming her, pulling her under until all she could feel was him.

gojo kept the toy moving in slow, teasing circles, letting her feel every pulse, every vibration, each one building on the last. his hand pressed against her hip, holding her steady as she began to squirm under his touch, unable to stay still with the heat pooling low in her stomach.

“you feel that, angel?” he whispered, his voice thick with barely restrained desire. “just let it happen. let yourself go.”

he pressed the toy closer, increasing the intensity, letting the vibrations thrum through her most sensitive spots. every time she tried to catch her breath, he shifted, brushing the toy against her abused bud in a way that made her gasp, the sound filling the room. her hands instinctively gripped the sheets, knuckles white as she tried to hold on.

“satoru… it’s… it’s so much…” she managed to breathe, her voice trembling as he continued his relentless teasing.

“that’s it,” he murmured, trailing kisses along her neck, savoring every shiver, every soft whimper that escaped her lips. “i want you to feel every second, angel. just let me take you there.”

he adjusted the toy, moving it with a bit more pressure, finding the perfect spot and holding it steady, his lips pressing softly to her collarbone. he could feel her body tense beneath him, the way her breathing quickened, each pulse of the toy pushing her closer to the edge.

“don’t hold back,” he whispered, his fingers grazing her side, grounding her in the warmth of his touch. “i want to hear you, want to feel you let go.”

she could barely hold on, her body wound so tightly that every tiny movement sent shockwaves through her. the way he was watching her, the way he seemed so focused on her pleasure, only heightened the sensations coursing through her.

“satoru… please…” she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper as she teetered on the brink, the pleasure building so intensely that she felt like she might break apart.

“i’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips just as he pushed the toy a little harder, the vibrations intensifying in a way that made her cry out, her body finally surrendering to the overwhelming sensation. her grip on the sheets tightened as the waves of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her breathless and trembling beneath him.

as she rode out the last of it, gojo held her close, his hand gently tracing circles on her skin, soothing her as she slowly came back down. “beautiful,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “you did so well, angel.” he smiled, a look of unpurity in his eyes from his next actions.

gojo didn’t give her a moment to recover; instead, he kept the toy pressed against her sensetive bud, turning the intensity up just slightly, enough to send another surge of sensation through her already sensitive body. she let out a soft whimper, her head falling back, overwhelmed by the sudden return of the vibrations.

“you thought i was done?” he asked, a playful edge in his voice as he brushed a thumb over her cheek. “i want to see you fall apart for me again.”

her breathing was shallow, chest rising and falling as the sensations built quickly, even more intense this time. her body, still sensitive, responded immediately, each movement of the toy drawing out soft, helpless noises from her lips. she couldn’t form words, couldn’t think, only react as the pleasure mounted, her body instinctively arching into his touch.

“that’s it, angel,” he murmured, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. “don’t hold back… let me hear you.”

all she could do was let out a broken moan, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to anchor herself. he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her temple, never letting up on the toy as he adjusted it, finding that perfect spot once again and holding it steady.

her breathing hitched, eyes squeezing shut behind the blindfold as she felt herself spiraling, her mind hazy, body trembling as he continued his slow, unrelenting movements. every nerve was on fire, her entire world narrowed down to the sensation he was creating, and she was powerless to resist it.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his tone gentle but with a hint of mischief. “completely mine.”

she let out another soft, breathless whine, her body instinctively moving against him as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, the intensity almost too much to handle. her lips parted, but no words came—only a broken cry as she fell apart again, the sensations crashing over her like a wave, leaving her trembling and breathless in his arms.

as she came down, he held her close, brushing gentle fingers through her hair, pressing soft kisses to her forehead. “i’m right here,” he whispered, his voice a soothing comfort as she tried to catch her breath. “i’ve got you, angel. you did so well.”

as her breathing slowed, gojo shifted, his hands gentle as he moved lower, trailing soft kisses down her stomach, each touch igniting sparks along her already sensitive skin. she shivered, barely able to process what he was doing before he was there, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh, teasing her with the warmth of his breath.

he paused, glancing up at her with that familiar playful glint in his eyes, his fingers brushing over her skin. “you’re still so responsive, angel,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

before she could catch her breath, she felt the warmth of his tongue, a slow, deliberate motion that made her body tense with the renewed sensation. a soft, breathless sound escaped her lips, her hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders, her nails pressing into his skin as he continued, each motion gentle but maddeningly precise.

she couldn’t form words, her voice reduced to a series of quiet gasps and whimpers as he moved with a steady, unhurried pace, savoring every reaction. his hands held her firmly, keeping her close, grounding her as he worked, the intensity building once more, each soft flick of his tongue sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her.

he took his time, his mouth exploring, tasting, drawing out sounds from her that were barely more than whispers, her head falling back as he continued, pushing her further than she thought possible. the sensations were overwhelming, her body responding instinctively, lost in the warmth of his touch, the gentleness of his lips, the way he seemed to know exactly where to linger, where to press.

her breathing came in quick, shallow gasps, the pleasure building until she could barely think, her world narrowed down to the feeling of his mouth on her, his hands holding her steady, his soft, reverent murmurs between each movement. she felt herself tipping over the edge again, her body surrendering completely, her voice reduced to a single, trembling cry as he took her over once more, leaving her breathless and spent in his embrace.

when she finally came down, he pressed a final kiss to her thigh, looking up at her with a soft smile. “you’re amazing, angel,” he whispered, his hand gently brushing over her side as he pulled her close.

gojo lingered beside her, his hands tracing soothing patterns on her skin as she caught her breath. after a moment, he reached up, fingers gently sliding under the edge of the blindfold. slowly, he pulled it down, revealing her half-lidded, teary eyes, still hazy from the intensity of what she’d just felt.

he paused, taking in the sight of her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “there you are,” he murmured, his voice tender as he looked into her eyes. “you’re even more beautiful than i imagined.”

her gaze met his, her eyes filled with a mixture of warmth, vulnerability, and the remnants of pleasure that left her breathless. she tried to find her voice, but all that came out was a soft, shaky sigh as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“you did so well, angel,” he whispered, his fingers brushing back a few strands of her hair. “thank you for trusting me.”

she managed a small, contented smile, her hands finding their way to his, squeezing gently. he stayed close, his eyes never leaving hers, a look of absolute adoration on his face as he held her, grounding her in the warmth of his embrace.

“i’ll always take care of you,” he said softly, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips, slow and tender, as if savoring every second. he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, letting her rest against him as the aftershocks faded, leaving only the quiet, shared warmth between them.

as she regained her breath, y/n looked up at gojo with a feigned scowl, brushing her fingers over her still flushed face. “you’re absolutely ruthless, satoru,” she muttered, mock annoyance lacing her words. “not even a shred of mercy… you couldn’t have taken it a little easier?”

he chuckled, a smirk spreading across his face as he leaned down, his hand resting lightly on her waist. “oh, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” he replied, his tone full of playful confidence. “i know you did. i can still taste it.”

her cheeks flushed deeper at his words, and she swatted at his shoulder with a huff, though her lips betrayed her with a small smile. he caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

“admit it,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at her with a mixture of mischief and affection. “you loved every second.”

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that broke through. “you’re impossible,” she sighed, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close once more.

“maybe,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

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[explicitred]

Needy, Needy, Needy~!

heyooo time to feed my children

my children have been starved

Diluc

Mans is busy but sure knows how to show his affections. Even in the most... inconvenient situations.

Literally doing paperwork and a redhead comes up to you saying "pay attention to me"

Like sir, wtf. werent you the one just telling me that you had work earlier and that i needed to give you some time???

The unfair, unjust treatment SMH 🙄

The pen glides across the paper in a calm, unhurried motion, its sounds filling the room. You don't seem to notice when a certain redhead steps into the room, focused on getting these damn documents done, coming closer towards you...

"Darling," Diluc places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jolt.

"Yes, Diluc?"

"Won't you come to bed? It's getting late and I..." He trails off, averting his eyes, his actions uncharacteristic of him.

"You...?"

Diluc quietly sighs, a dust of pink forming on his cheeks, seeming a bit embarrassed. "...I tried sleeping but I couldn't. I've become unfamiliar with sleeping alone. Darling, just come to bed with me, will you?"

aww, what a cutie patootie. it seems he just needs you to sleep~!

Xiao

bruh wtf

I SWEAR there's someone out there

Fr, just come out???

OH SHI- WHAT IF ITS A KIDNAPPER?!?!?!?!FKAHFJASJFHAJFSH

...Tsk, needy shortie!

Bro fr followed you???

You blink, having not expected Xiao to come out of the shadows. In turn, he stares at you back.

...

"...Hey, are you just going to stare at me?"

Ever since then, he's just been trailing you from behind in the shadows without you knowing, too embarrassed and shy to actually come up to you to steal your attention away.

(ig we only like st-lking when it comes from xiao lmfao)

"Yes, Xiao?" You huff, feeling him gently poke you in the shoulder for the nth time. You wait for his response, yet he doesn't give one. Turning your head, you see a blushing Xiao, who's just jolted from you looking at him, a hand slightly covering his mouth.

"Uhmm... A-Attention." He mumbles, too quiet for you to be able to understand what he is trying to convey.

"Hm?"

"...Attention."

"Ah."

You lightly chuckle, grabbing his waist before pulling him down with you, landing on top of him - essentially pinning him down while hugging him.

"M-Mm...!" Xiao's face burns redder, if that's even possible, shakily hugging you back. Oh god, he can feel his heart rate skyrocketing.

Hey, this counts as cuddling, doesn't it? How cute~

[eccentricallygothic]

Crosshairs

Description: Trying to get Robb's attention is one thing, but when you have successfully landed yourself in his crosshairs is another.

Pairing: Brat Tamer Prodigal Son!Robb Stark | Spoilt Brat!You.

Warning(s): Brat taming, jealousy, spanking, punishment, unprotected p-in-v, doggy style (it's me), claiming, manhandling (it's Robb), power imbalance, degradation, light misogyny, Robb's BDE because I live for that shit, corporal punishment ig, boob play. MDNI.

Type: Request, here. 

. . .

“You do realize you will land us both in trouble if you keep this up, yes?” Jon does not look up at his older brother's betrothed half out of respect and half out of the playful annoyance he feels for the spoiled girl batting her eyelashes down at him with faux coyness.

“What trouble?” The male rolls his eyes as he works away at his sword. “I haven't the slightest inkling of whatever you mean, Jon” he resists the urge to scoff at your obvious innocence. 

The uncharacteristic nature of your actions makes you stick out like a sore thumb. The forced lady-like smile that holds your features in an uncomfortable shift due to lack of experience, the way you hover above his head in a flirtatious side hang even though you never behave in this manner around the opposite sex save one, the overdone grace with which you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and the little tilt of your head that is accompanied by a confused and senseless giggle fitting to women, the pains with which you put this effort forward is painfully obvious. 

“Right” the object of his discomfort -something you have in common with said object, at times- appears on the horizon of his vision and Jon sighs. 

Well, there goes his hope of not becoming the collateral today.

“No, tell me what you meant” though you aren't used to or too comfortable with leaning into men, you do so because you have also caught the quiet figure in your own peripherals and unlike Jon, you welcome the circumstance like the fool you are. “I want to know, Jon~” the dark haired male uncomfortably shifts away from you who puts an extra swing in your sway towards him. He lets out a suppressed scoff and glares at you. The two of you have been friends long enough for him to know exactly what it is that you are doing. 

“Stop” you know each other too well to be affected by any proximity with each other but Jon's older brother who is an advocate of propriety has taught his younger brother that this distance with a lady one is not related to seldom fares well and thus his teachings show in his behavior. “You—” though he decides not to beat around the bush for any longer, it is too little too late.

Alas.

“Father calls for you, Snow” the male in question releases a breath he was not aware he was holding and jumps to his feet abruptly with a gladness he is still cautious of since his brother likes to get unfair at times despite being well acquainted with your personality. 

Jon departs, or rather flees the scene without another word.

A smirk makes its way onto your face so you turn your ‘unsuspecting’ back to the hairy giant, bending to pick up your upper coat that you had shrugged off in a bout of confidence. Though you aren't the sharpest and certainly don't possess the perception of your betrothed, you hear him approach you in his manly and wise silence as you clear the haystacks of your coat in one swift movement and resume an upright position.

“Oh!” You exclaim with a surprise so artificial that the impurity nearly cuts Robb because of how he always dons the gold of honesty and valor. “My heart!” You use your endearment for him for Robb neither likes to hear you refer to him by name in public nor does he prefer you call him by his titles. “When did you get here? You were not a moment ago!” 

The coolest, most small smile spreads over his rosy lips and Robb tips his head back an inch to grant himself a better look at your audacity. The milky skin under his eye slightly twitches in response to him narrowing his eyes at you. Though he says nothing, you can still hear his rhetorical inquiry in that sarcastic way of his that you are well familiar with due to how long you have known him. 

“Whatever’s the matter, my love?” Robb has to resist the urge to scoff at the extra pitch in your voice because of the pretentiousness you are putting into your performance. 

He just stares at you for a good while, studying you, perhaps giving you a chance. So much so that there comes a point where you feel yourself gulping down a bile from your rising nervousness. But unlike many other times, you refuse to give in today. Like husband, like wife. After all, you rebelled against your nature today to end up here, in this ‘predicament’. Giving up now would be to waste all your effort and turn your bold attempt futile.

“Come” he says after you know not how many minutes pass but before you can say anything, Robb’s hairy claw has already seized your smaller hand within it. It is unlike his nature too, for usually he is the effortless victor in a battle of wits between the two of you.

“Oh!” But you are used to being treated like the most delicate and valuable thing to ever exist. You have been raised in a manner which has accustomed you to everyone giving in to your demands and wishes. The firm manner in which Robb balances all things with a just foresight is most undesirable to you, fancy for him or not. Things should always go your way in the design of your desire, and not in a way that is mindful of safeguarding the welfare of other people too, unlike your dearest. If it does as a byproduct, jolly. If it does not, well, then that is simply not your pain to bear. And whilst you underwent this stunt to provoke Robb and his attention, the way your smaller body is being dragged somewhere through the dark hallways of the estate with a rigidity typical to your betrothed, it is hardly the conclusion you planned.

Not like this.

“Oh, my!” Your brutish man's ironhold is beast-like as you try to free yourself of it. But what good is a mere pip against a wolf out for blood? “Stop, stop!” You huff and puff half out of your liking to test him to the best of your ability and half because your scheme was not to be so quickly overthrown with such ease!

No, he was supposed to get jealous and sulk in the envy your behavior was aimed to stir in him due to your treatment of his brother. Then he was supposed to fight for your attention and give in to all demands bestowed upon him by you and fulfill any and every need you may have. Robb was to kneel down to you like everyone else in your life did and strike conversation to get you to shower the blessings of your company upon him. He was to say the first word and you were to act like he usually did; with a teasing indifference to make him haste harder for your notice. Except, your little mind failed to realize that you yourself had broken the very first rule of your own game not too long ago when you had spoken.

And now as you are pushed into a little room for the stored animal feed and other domestic necessities before your smaller body is pushed like a delinquent babe's to bend over hay forming a stack half your size, you whimper and pout as your pampered elbows itch from the dried grass. This outcome is far from what you had expected of your contrivance. This is not supposed to be it. 

“We are not wed yet, my Lord!” Your mouth runs its senseless attempts in vain. “Oh no!” You try to worm your body free from his elbow that he settles between your shoulder blades to nail you in place as the rest of his arm lays down along the length of your back, the tips of his fingers pressing against the twin dents in your tailbone. “This—”

“All that fuss to have my attention, dove” when he does speak, the guttural quality of his throat shushes you into silence. “Only to raise mayhem and put up such fight when it has been granted to you” you feel the fingers of his free hand dance along the plump, clothed cushions of your buttocks and your eyes widen as though the position he had put you in was not telling enough. 

No, no, no!

He is supposed to get on his knees and worship you! 

Not discipline you like a guardian does a misbehaving child! 

“Perhaps they are correct in what they say about a woman's eternal uncertainty in what she wants herself” not entirely true. You do know what you want. But if you confess it to him this will get even worse for you! He must not know! You shall conceal it like your life depends on it!

Or so you scheme in your naivete, for you have behaved in similar ways more times than one.

But trying to flirt with another man? That is new. 

And Robb is very determined to find out the source of that course of action.

“Ugh,” you shake your shoulders in a futile attempt once more. “Do not be a cruel brute!” You order the future King of the North like you are in any position to bark at a man of his stature. “I am not one of your savagely bannermen! I— ah!” A furious hiss shoots through your lips when his free hand comes down upon the midpoint of your cheeks that jiggle feverishly from the impact. You whine at the sting that goes all the way down to your pucker and though Robb is wordless, he curses under his breath when he realizes that you are not wearing adequate underclothing despite his constant advice and request that you do.

How typical of you.

The young man brings another strong hand down upon your rear at the thought and you let out such an exaggerated sound -in his opinion, as he is scarcely aware of the extent of his own strength- that it mimics a cackle. Only, it is one of woe. Your hips desperately try to find solace in swerving the endangered half of your body out of his line of devastation but your wolf-man is far too strong. 

“Aaaa!” You furiously wail like a delinquent puppy being set straight, digging your elbows into the hay and your head in your arms to withstand the thunderous rain of your betrothed's hand on your buttocks. “I demand you stop this immediately, Robb!” Your whines are muffled and pathetic in their contrast to your words. 

“It will not be until you tell me whose plot your little performance was” you gulp and bark out a wheeze to respond and it is like he senses the lie that goes to bud on your tongue and he swats it away with a foreseeable slap to the underside of your rear. “And you best think twice before giving me a false answer,” you shake your whole body and your head in protest and pain when he spanks you again. “Or so help me gods.” 

But you remain faithful to your nature and preserve your brain's unutilized state by choosing to, after all, lie. “I- I have not the slightest idea what you mean!” Robb releases a cool, mirthless scoff and shakes his head at you, his palm now taking turns on each of your cheeks as it comes out in strong, powerful hits that he lands with well paced delays so you can fully feel the ache of one strike before the next lands. “O- Ow! T- There was no- ah— p- plot! Nevermind a- any performance!” He sighs as if to lament what is about to happen to you next. 

“Fine” your eyes widen and you squawk in shock like you aren't accustomed to this or you were not hoping to arouse a more ideal variant of this outcome anyway. “Have it your way then, my dove” oh… that never fares well for you. 

And Robb proves your suspicion true when he lifts your skirts out of the way and tucks them under the hand that sits on your lower back like a menacing serpent with unkind intentions. “Tsk,’’ a strong strike is given to your barely secure intimates before he tugs your poor excuse for undergarments down. 

What?

They are uncomfortable!

It is not your problem if the man of your future household is too pedant and fastidious!

He always laughs at it and just ruffles your hair but you are unyielding in your belief that he is the way he is because your betrothed is adamant on reaching bachanalness three times faster than other people his age. 

“Ouch, my heart, please!” You cannot help but whine out an endearment though you absolutely do not want to because you are just as cross with him as he is with you! Ugh! He never falls in your traps! Why is he so clever?! Is this what your mother meant when she told you that you were finally going to have someone who would handle you like you ought to be the day Robb asked your father for your hand in marriage? “It hurts!” 

You gasp in realization.

The pieces fall into place.

It does make sense.

Gods, the world conspires against you!

This is not fair at all!

Robb's cruel palm is unrelenting even when it begins to tingle upon coming into contact with your bare and blushing skin over and over. “Tell me the name, my angel, and I will cease this immediately” he spreads your legs with one strong jerk of his hand and your whole body undergoes a turbulence. “You know I hate this just as much as you do” before you can feel any warmth for your cruel lover for he always tells you that he does not like to punish you, his lowered hand comes upwards in a vertical hit and collides against your drenched petals. The impact reverberates through your whole being and your mouth falls open at the way your folds shake. “Make haste, sweet one.”

Your eyebrows come together in a tight, angry knot and your cheeks puff at his condescending tone. “N- No name!” You bark out of spite and clutch at the hay angrily. “There was no one!” The compressed dried grass comes loose in your hold and you add. “You have gone completely mad, you hoary troll!” The way Robb audibly chuckles at that causes the arm that he has on your back to buzz into your spine.

You gulp because he is a man of a few words and even lesser noise. So this cannot mean anything good. Although you are quite determined in your resolve, you still have to bite your lip to suppress the whimper that you let out when his offending hand now begins to softly caress the blemished skin of your buttocks and sit spots. For you know his touch and it is not this when he means to be genuinely affectionate.

Just what kind of a predicament have you landed yourself into?

“I see.” You hear the zip of harnesses coming undone and the thump of coats hitting the floor. “Then nevermind the actions of a mad man precisely how we will the name of your fellow conspirator, my dear” you are confused by his words but the feeling of his tip aligning against you when he gets behind you and takes your sore thighs -for Robb never punishes your buttocks alone but all the spots in their vicinity- in his strong fingers that are decorated in scars which bear testament to his experience in conquest, causes a tumult in your determination-taut brain from the burst of sensation and the upper half of your body relaxes as result of all tension shifting to your nether regions. 

You mewl as you feel the delicious burn of your entrance that your beloved had deflowered some time ago stretch around the thick tip of his cock that makes love making feel like the first time whenever your balmy cavern is made to accommodate his manhood. “Oh! I can't take it!” You throw your head back and moan, forgetting everything else and getting lost in the flutters of pleasure you have been taught to find in the strain his cock causes on your flesh band. “You're too big, love!” Robb curses under his breath when the leaking apex of his cock is met with resistance against your folds that he feels quivering against him. “P- Please help me take it!” He just has to give a sharp strike to the underside of one of your buttocks to accompany with his scoff.

You are such a fox.

Saying all the agreeable things in that obedient tone of yours that he knows better than to trust. 

He shakes his head at the surprised squeal you whimper out as though the events of the last quarter did not happen. 

“Whoever said anything about you taking it, my sweet dove?” Horror creeps down your spine in the form of an ice cold shiver. 

No. 

“B- But— aaaah!” You are stinging, aroused, open but not filled and inching closer and closer to mindless, undignified desperation. “But!”

“Hm?” Robb seems to be enjoying himself, ever the master of restraint and self control, as he penetrates you only to the wide hilt of his tip before he sloshes it right out of your entrance only to repeat the tortuous action where your walls clench and bathe with slick in anticipation of his cock only for their buzzing excitement to be denied satisfaction. 

“W- What…” You rarely ever misbehave once he has you like this. But your wanton frustration makes you kick one foot as you huff. “Why would you— oh!” You bite your lip because of the shoddy pleasure that sparks but fails to ignite, leaving your body on a trembling edge that brings you to heaven's door each time he fishes his way past your swollen folds and plops into you never to let you sheathe him thus denying you the paradise beyond. “W- Why are you doing that?!” You finally break from your pretentious rhetoric as you try to push yourself down on his shaft but strength has never been grounds for competition between the two of you. 

Robb's nearly inhuman hold keeps you detained exactly where he wants you. “Doing what?” It's his time to display faux behavior and you huff although you know deep down in your mind that it would not do much to move him and would rather only land you in more trouble. 

“That!” You cry when you feel his cock release more precum right at the threshold of your cavern because of how he fucks your entrance with a warm, torturous gentleness that scorches both of your insides alike. “Why w- won't you put it in, cruel ogre!” 

A satisfied smirk suppresses Robb's breaths that grow heavier with the passing moments. “Why, I am a mad and cruel ogre-troll, my dove” he enters you again and this time both his hands come down on your cheeks in the form of slaps at once and you howl. “And creatures of my like have queer ways beyond the comprehensive abilities of pretty little things like yourself” you whine and your toes curl at how the frustration morphs into a dull ache in the mound between your legs. 

The painful twitching of your sex makes you croak and you try to move your hips once more. “No! No!” You gurgle on your own spit as you vehemently shake your head.

“No?” Robb's inquiry is nice, somewhat kind even… unlike his heartless actions. 

“No!” You affirm as you feel your knees ache and sore thighs quiver. You are a sensitive little thing. Rough handling is not a domain you are much acquainted with beside the brief encounters you have with it sometimes during spells of passion with your dearest betrothed. “No, the light of my life, you're not! You—” your back arches and you cry and pout like an entitled juvenile not getting their way, your frivolous unrest and feverish jittering making his great form that looms behind you like the silhouette of doom itself to shake in silent mirth. “You're perfect! Please, you're the most perfect Stark heir! You are the best Lord Winterfell can ever hope to have!” Your praises make him curse under his breath and he gropes your thigh harder to withstand his impulsive urge to thrust all the way in.

No.

He is the man and the responsible one.

No can do until you learn and acknowledge his authority.

That is the way.

Of men, and Lords.

“The name, my love” though he masks his words with nonchalance quite well, there is a disguised urgency in them. You light him up just as unbearably as he does you. “Tell me the name and I will give you all you need and desire.” He gives you one rough jerk just past the band of your entrance and the momentary friction you feel in the drenched velvet just above your entrance snaps the thread of your determination. “Just like that, it is that easy. But you choose the fruitless path of torment and frustration.” There is a hypnotic lull in his words and that is enough for you to gush out a part of your impending confession. 

“It was—!” You finally confess the name of your lady friend and Robb decides that it will do for now, rest you will tell him yourself with your own free will in your sensitive and emotional post orgasm state when you will be securely tucked in his arms and against his chest. 

“There” your eyes and mouth widen at the same time and a guttural grunt crawls out of your throat when he doesn't pull his tip out this time around and instead slots himself inside you until he is hilt deep. “There is my bonnie lass” the upper half of your body goes lax and appears as though your bones have dissolved into your blood. You go to collapse face first into the hay to lay down and get fucked into oblivion but Robb's territorial paw finds a hold on the underside of your jaw and he rams you onto his cock and continues to curve your form until the crown of your head is touching his shoulder. “Tsk, such havoc just because I could not attend to you right away and requested you show some patience.” His fingers find one of your nipples and you shiver.

“S- Sorry, hubby!” You finally use for him the odd yet heartwarming endearment he loves most and that is how he knows he has you netted in.  

“Who loves you?” You shiver as you feel his girth stretch out your insides even though you were more than prepared for him. 

“Y- You—” he pulls at your nipple before giving both your breasts punishing swats. Your waist further curls outwards at the feeling. 

“Say it properly” you clench around him because of the way his baritone voice grinds against your eardrums and Robb cannot help but twitch right under your cervix. 

You do not need to be told twice. “Robb Stark!” 

He hums in satisfaction. “Who knows better?” 

Your bubbling loins tighten. “Robb Stark!” 

“Who takes care of you?” His hands roughly fumble to throw your skirts out of his way. 

“Robb Stark—!” Your answer turns into a shivering moan when his fingers find the trembling gem under the hood of your sex. 

“Who do you trust with everything?” The minute crevices on the tips of his fingers rub against the sensitive nub and your vision falters. 

“R- Robb Stark!” His hold on your jaw is the only thing that keeps it in usable shape. 

“Who will you obey when he tells you that you will no longer be friends with—” you whine when he takes the name of your dear friend but it is not a complete surprise. 

Robb greatly dislikes and condemns for you any influence he deems indecent or bad.

“R- Robb Stark!” You whimper as you move your hips along to his cock that now fucks you so fast and rough that you lose your footing with each thrust, the fingers he has on the nub of your womanhood only adding to the flutters of pleasure that narrow the knot around your hips with each snap of his hips. 

“Who do you belong to?” This time, his mouth comes to press against your ear and his coarse beard irritates your sensitive skin. His words carry a wolfish ferocity and you hear him gnash his teeth in as much clarity as your thumping ears will allow. 

“R- Robb—” your teeth begin to chatter from the intensity of your orgasm and your body flexes against his much bigger one to withstand the explosion in your abdomen. “S- S- Stark…” Your words melt into hissing whispers and you shudder and hiss when he continues to rub, fuck and fondle you even when the ecstatic feeling has subsided and your mound demands solitude. 

“That is correct” he pounces onto the stacks that you face with your smaller body underneath him like a depraved wolf having trapped in its hold a helpless little lamb. The action causes for his tip to collide against your cervix and your body thrashes defensively but it is in vain. “Do not forget that.” Robb whispers in your ear before he regains his footing and his hairy claws tuck under your thighs from the front. Your betrothed easily lifts your legs off the floor and begins his annihilation of any remaining misconduct perchance still shrouded in some unwise crevice of your little mind.

MASTERLIST 

. . .

I… can swear I thought this was like 1K at best… 

[anonziesssz]

Exclusive Scoop: Love on the Grid

✦- Authors Note: isaw this in my drafts and decided to post it, might also be my last fanfic on tumblr cuz i js dont rlly like tumblr anymore idk but i'll still be posting blue lock fanfics on ao3 ig...

✦- pairings: Carlos Sainx jr x Journalist!reader.

✦- summary: After interviewing him for so long, carlos dcides to take the reader for a date, finally confessing his feeling for the journalist.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You had always felt that the interview was much more than asking questions; it was a dance of finding a balance between curiosity and rapport. It was your mantra as a motorsport journalist, and it worked quite well. From coverage of Formula 2 to interviews with world champions, you had carved yourself a little nook within the paddock.

Among the many faces you’d come to know in the sport, Carlos Sainz stood out. From your first interaction during his Toro Rosso days to now, as Ferrari’s pride, he’d always been gracious, witty, and effortlessly charming. Over the years, your interviews with him had evolved into something more. Something that felt personal.

But it was still work. That's what you kept telling yourself as you navigated your way toward the Ferrari hospitality area on a steamy Saturday in Singapore.

The paddock was alive with energy, the air alive with the purring of engines and the chatter of fans and teams. You spotted Carlos leaning against the railing, his red Ferrari cap slightly askew as he laughed at something said by an engineer. 

"Carlos," you called, stepping closer. He turned, his grin widening as he spotted you.

"Ah, mi periodista favorita!" he exclaimed, pushing off the railing. "Here to ask me why I'm so good around street circuits?"  

"Maybe I'm here to ask why you're so insufferable," you shot back, smirking as you adjusted the strap of your bag.  

He clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me. I thought we were friends."

"Pals who pose the tough questions," you shot back, digging for your recorder.

The interview flowed as smoothly as ever, with Carlos giving thoughtful answers to your questions while sprinkling in his usual humor.

He spoke of strategy, his confidence in the car, and the challenges of Singapore's grueling track. But there were the moments his gaze would land on you, his tone softening as if this conversation meant more than just a headline.

You always ask good questions," he said out of the blue, and he caught you by surprise.  

"Thanks," you said, blinking at the sincerity in his voice. "I try to keep it interesting."  

"You do," he said, his lips curving into a small, almost shy smile.

It was one of those moments that just hung in the air, making you slightly flustered and scrambling to wrap up the interview. As you were about to leave, Carlos seemed to have hesitated. 

"Do you have plans tonight?" he asked casually, though looking uncharacteristically nervous. 

"Just editing this interview," you said with a tilt of your head. "Why?

Carlos shifted, scratching the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me. Not just as a journalist," he added hastily. "As you."  

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn't every day that a Formula 1 driver- Carlos Sainz no less-asked you out.  

"I'd love to," you said, a smile spreading across your face.  

Back in the hotel room, one could not help but have the evening weigh upon their shoulders. Was this dinner? Or was this something entirely else? Carlos was being friendly, always, but this felt very different. A hesitant kind of nervousness in him all that evening betrayed something deeper.

You dismissed the thoughts and began to get ready. You put on an outfit that was just right-balanced between chic and casual enough to feel confident with but not overdone. 

Then, when Carlos texted to let you know he was downstairs, you grabbed your bag and began to head toward the lobby.

He stood waiting beside the car, his caramel skin set off by a crisp, white button-down shirt. He grinned when he caught your eye and opened the door with a flourish.  

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice husky.  

"Thank you," you said, your face warming. "You clean up pretty well yourself."  

The restaurant Carlos had selected, La Perla, was tucked away from busy thoroughfares in Singapore-a little jewel of a place. Darkened light and soft live guitar music playing made the setting intimate.

Carlos pulled out a chair for you; his hand brushed against yours as you sat down. "Hope you like Spanish," he said with a grin.

"I'd be worried if you didn't take me to a Spanish restaurant," you teased, drawing a laugh.  

The meal was a real culinary masterpiece: plates of jamón ibérico, perfectly cooked seafood, rich paella -all shared between you as conversation flowed effortlessly.  

"So," said Carlos, leaning back against the chair, "tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

An eyebrow had arched. "That's a tough one. You've asked me a lot of questions over the years." 

"Exactly," he said, eyes shining with play. "Now it's my turn to be the journalist." 

You'd considered for a minute before responding with, "Okay. I never actually planned on being a motorsport journalist. I went to school for literature." 

"Literature?" Carlos leaned forward, interest piqued. "How did you end up here?

It was a sideline, you continued, "Doing a few local races for this little magazine, and then I was hooked. The energy of it all just drew me in. The rest is history."  

Carlos nodded thoughtfully. "You're good at it. Really good."  

"Thank you," you said softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He leaned across the table, his fingers brushing yours. "I mean it. You're more than just good-you're one of the best."  

After dinner, Carlos suggested a walk along the waterfront. The city's lights reflected from the water, making a shimmering backdrop as the two of you strolled side by side.

"Do you always sweet-talk your way through interviews?" You asked, looking up at him.  

"Only when the journalist happens to be someone special," he returned, smooth and low, sending your heart fluttering for cover.  

You rolled your eyes, though couldn't suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Is this your way of saying I'm the favourite?"  

"Absolutamente," he replied deadpan, though with a naughty glint in his eye.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Careful, Carlos. People might start talking."  

"Let them," he said, stopping in his tracks.  

You turned to face him, your breath hitching as his gaze locked onto yours. "What is it?" you asked softly.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," he admitted, his voice steady but quiet. "Every time I saw you in the paddock, I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how. Tonight, I realized I didn't want to wait anymore."

Your heart pounded as he stepped closer, his hands gently cradling your face. "Life's too short not to take a chance," he murmured, before leaning in.  

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but as you responded, it deepened, filled with all the emotions words couldn't express.

When you finally pulled away, Carlos rested his head against yours, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. "This feels right," he whispered.  

"It does," you replied, your voice not much above a whisper.  

As you sat reviewing your interview notes the next morning, you just couldn't help but smile. The professional line you'd always maintained had blurred, and for the first time in your career, you didn't mind. 

It was as if Carlos had changed something inside you-he had reminded you that it wasn't just the stories you told, but those you lived.

And as your phone buzzed with the new message from him, that is when you realized this was only just the very beginning of your own inspiring story.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[jaemotion]

blitzed | lmh (teaser)

pairing⇢ mark lee x reader

summary ⇢ finding Mark was always easy for you — which makes you his friends' last resort whenever they need him back.

genre/au ⇢ angst, smut, uh best friends ig?

rating & word count ⇢ 18+ | 0.6k

warnings ⇢ swearing, pining, drug use, high sex, allusions to mental health struggles, they’re kinda toxic ngl (more specific ones will be added in the full fic)

a/n: i couldn't finish the fic by the end of his birthday so i figured a teaser will do since it's been sitting in my drafts since March 💀. happiest 25th to the loml, my markie, my minhyung 🥺 we've been together for 9 years now? (he was one of the three rookies i picked from the SM rookie app 😌)

you hear a familiar giggle after opening the door.

sighing in relief, you should've thought of looking for Mark here right away. it's one of the secluded ones in this lounge that he and his friends frequented during their free time. mostly him cause his younger bros prefer staying in the main area where the consoles are. honestly, it's essentially a game room because of the other recreational amenities like billiard tables, etc.

your favourite actually, that's why you visit here a lot but that's mainly because you're also Mark's best friend.

he tends to stay in this room when he needs to be alone. just chilling around surrounded by his favourite things. being those colourful tablets on the small table beside him and apparently, you.

“hi baby~” he calls to you from the small mattress he’s lying on. he giggles after, arms splaying around when he sees the scowl on your face at seeing his current predicament.

you've gotten used to Mark calling you this petname though you haven't heard him call you that when he's sober. you stare at his form from where you’re standing, gaze switching between him and a couple of mollies. those smileys carved in each of the assorted candies further annoyed you for many reasons.

because it seems like they're taunting you.

he’s done this a million times before, sneaking out to take a breather when he’s going through something. you and his friends never bother him when it happens but it’s uncharacteristic for him to do this, getting high at this time of day so it must’ve been different.

“what the hell mark?!” you yell whispering instead of actually using your voice at him to not bring his friends’ attention from the main room. it’s already telling when Renjun asks you specifically to look for him when he usually does it himself.

“relax, i didn’t take a lot” he states, surprisingly sounding sober despite looking fried. you’re damn worried about him but instead, he’s out here biting his right pointer finger as he looks at you with those heavy lidded eyes.

“still..” you look away because of their intensity and then he starts giggling again, probably finding amusement in your reactions.

“mark what’s going on?” you prod, not wasting any more time. you already did by searching for him in other places even knowing that this is what he considered his safest.

you wait for Mark to answer because sometimes he takes a while especially when he's like this. fortunately for him, you’re the type to help in any way that you can.

hence why you tolerate Mark’s antics, taking whatever he can give you at the moment.

“don’t wanna talk about it” he quips, his arm that was lying above his head coming down to grab your wrist.

“then what do you want?”

“you” he says with serious intent, thumb rubbing around your inner wrist in a coaxing manner which prompts your eyes to return to him.

he's not looking at you though, his eyes seem so fascinated as his thumb continues circling your skin. if he’s being honest, Mark just doesn’t want to face a possible rejection from you.

he could take it like a man should but not right now. not when everything’s been going to shit for him. he can’t fuck up things with you too but he might’ve already by stupidly blurting out what’s been on his mind lately.

“me how?”

you actually knew what Mark was asking but it’s not often he’s like this, flogged up his mind to stop himself from being vulnerable around you. besides, you’ve wanted to pry him off to whatever he just had so you’ll entertain this specific request of his.

like you always do.

“on me” he whispers before bursting out in another fit of laughter. he may look disoriented but the sincerity in his eyes never wavers each time he looks at you.

© jaemotion 2024. do not copy or repost.

[lonely-cowboy]

beautifully human

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: after noticing the way connor looks at other androids, you worry that you may never have a chance with him. but what you don't know is that he has only ever had eyes for you.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: insecure reader, mentions of death (they literally talk about dying in an elevator) (spoiler alert: it doesn't happen), probably ooc connor, west coast dialect went a little too hard in the dialogue, some very specific physical descriptions that i also tried to keep as general as possible? you'll see what i mean ig

author's note: glad to report that this account is lowkey helping me get over my writer's block, so that's amazing for me. anyway. as usual, feel free to leave any critiques on how i can improve my writing, characterization, etc.! :)

masterlist ⟡ requests

You hated that your investigation brought you to the Eden Club. You didn’t necessarily hate the Eden Club or its workers, but you hated that you had to go with Connor and Hank. It would’ve been embarrassing enough to go with just Hank, but adding Connor to the mix made you want to collapse to the ground and never move again. But you were a professional, so if you had to go with Connor and Hank then you could suck it up for a night. Hopefully.

The moment you stepped inside the club, you were filled with unease. Your stomach churned and your shoulders scrunched up high as if you were trying to hide from the world. To handle your discomfort, you turned cold and distant, observing everything and everyone with an icy glare. You trailed behind Hank and Connor as you scanned your surroundings, doing your very best to look at everything but Connor.

You couldn’t look at Connor in this place without being filled with a displaced sense of anger. You couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at these androids with infatuation or desire. Did he find them beautiful? Did he want them in the same way you wanted him? You knew they were stupid thoughts, but you couldn’t control them. Somehow, Connor had weaseled his way into your heart and refused to leave no matter how hard you tried.

Distracted by your foggy mind, you almost bumped right into Connor when he stopped to admire a Traci, his soft gaze exploring her body through the glass barrier. You watched as the Traci smiled gently at him, her hand reaching forward to touch the glass like she was trying to caress his cheek. Connor didn’t move to reciprocate her action, but he still appeared to be in awe. It only made your scowl deepen.

You hated that you were consumed by jealousy because you knew– deep down– that it stemmed from insecurity. This Traci was made to be beautiful. She was made to be desired and worshipped. In her limited clothing, there wasn’t much left to the imagination. Her body was the epitome of perfect with its soft curves and smooth skin. She was a perfect balance of sweet and charismatic. She was everything that you assumed a man wanted, and androids were no exception. From the way Connor looked at her, you were sure she was everything he wanted too. 

You sighed in frustration before marching away as Hank called to Connor. You refused to let your jealousy– or anything you felt for Connor– get in the way of your investigation. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was still drawn to him.

Maybe you had been too hopeful, but you really had thought that maybe– just maybe– Connor had felt something for you. Apparently, you were just far more delusional than you thought.

While Hank discussed the crime scene with Officer Miller, you stood to the side looking uncharacteristically cold. With your arms folded over your chest and a hard, almost bored look in your eye, it was clear that you weren’t particularly interested in talking to anyone. You assumed that would be obvious to everyone, androids included. And it seemed that it had been obvious, but that certainly didn’t stop Connor.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Connor watching you with a confused glint. His LED flashed yellow as he analyzed your body language, working to only make your blood boil. You knew there was no reason to be angry with him, so why did your anger persist? Why did you feel so unreasonably jealous? He was just a man, after all, nothing more.

Connor approached you with his hands clasped behind his back, standing beside you and following your cold gaze. He was silent for a moment, pleased to simply be in your presence even when you were acting so stony.

“You’re unusually quiet, Detective,” Connor observed. “This is not within your typical behavioral patterns. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” you answered dismissively. “Don’t you have a body to analyze?”

Connor paused again, pursing his lips in a way that was so oddly human. In a gentle tone, he said, “Well… yes. But that’s usually something we do together.”

“Why?” you hissed, feeling suddenly riled now that Connor was talking to you. Why was he giving you this attention? Why was he acting like he cared about you? You knew he didn’t. At least, your clouded mind let you think he didn’t. “It’s not like you need my help. You can do everything on your own, I’m useless to you.”

Connor turned his body towards you fully, a deep crease settling between his brows. His LED continued to circle yellow as he studied you once again. That made you roll your eyes which seemed to be enough of a hint for Connor. With his LED still glowing yellow, he turned away without another word, allowing you to resume your wallowing in misery. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were still fuming as Hank drove you home. With Connor in the front seat, you were stuck in the back, glaring daggers into his back. How had such a clueless android managed to lure you in and make you jealous purely because he wasn’t interested in you?

As Connor jabbered on about something or other, you stared out the car window absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but imagine the Traci on the other side of the window, reaching out and smiling that perfect smile that made you never want to smile again.

You glanced at Connor as he fell silent. He turned to look out the window, making you cringe at the idea that he truly was thinking of the Traci. But you failed to notice his eyes transfixed on you through the side mirror, his gaze gentle and curious as he admired your stubborn look. He stared at you dreamily the rest of the car ride. 

When you finally reached your apartment building, Hank had barely stopped the car before you were clambering out and slamming the door behind you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grumbled, having enough decency to give Hank a small wave. 

As you trudged towards your apartment building, you froze at the sound of another car door opening and closing. You cursed under your breath, hesitant to turn for fear of whom you might find. As you glanced over your shoulder, you cursed again as your fear came true. Connor approached you with long strides, leaving behind a very confused-looking Hank.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” Connor offered innocently. 

You stared at him blankly and muttered, “Connor, my building is right here. I just need to go up a few floors. I know how to use an elevator, I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

You turned and continued towards your building, not surprised when you heard Connor follow.

“The chances of an elevator-related death are one in 10.5 million,” Connor continued in that matter-of-fact tone that you usually found so endearing. 

When Connor didn’t elaborate, you stopped and turned to him again with a raised brow. You waited for more, but it still didn’t come. Connor just stared at you pleasantly, drinking in your charmingly confused face.

“Okay…,” you said. “So like I said, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But the chance of it happening is still possible, so it’s best if I escort you,” Connor continued. His grin widened as you rolled your eyes in acceptance. As an afterthought, he added, “Just in case.” 

In silence, the two of you made your way up the elevator (where you did not, in fact, die) and to your apartment. You stood outside the door and turned to Connor, ready to send him away in the hopes that if you couldn’t see him then you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by images of him and that Traci. But you knew that wasn’t the case because even when he was long gone you would still think about how you couldn’t be enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for such an angelic being like him, not when other beautifully crafted androids existed.

“May I come in?” Connor inquired before you could even open your mouth.

No.

You wanted to say no so desperately. You wanted him to leave. You wanted to bury yourself under your bed sheets and never see him again.

But he was still your friend, and you were still a decent enough person. It would be rude to reject him.

“Sure,” you replied softly, opening the door to allow the two of you in.

The moment you closed the door, Connor was already asking questions that you were not at all prepared for.

“You were upset today,” he noted. “Do you want to talk about how you feel?”

“I… what?” you stammered. “Since when are you a therapist android?”

“I’m not a therapist android, but as your companion, I care about your well-being,” Connor answered far too casually for your liking.

Companion? Well-being?

“Yeah, I doubt that,” you mumbled without thinking.

You were stupid to think Connor wouldn’t have heard you. With his sensitive hearing, he heard you loud and clear. Your comment made him tilt his head curiously and narrow his eyes.

“Why would I not care about you?” he asked, the genuine confusion in his voice making your resolve melt. 

“That’s not… it’s just…,” you blabbered, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you struggled to find the right words. “I wouldn’t expect you to care about me the same way–”

You stopped abruptly, eyes wide as your mind finally caught up to your yapping mouth. You could not finish that sentence.

Connor’s eyes narrowed further at your sudden pause. He took a cautious step forward, then another. You knew that he had already noticed the way your heartbeat accelerated, your breath suddenly caught in your throat. “The same way… what?” he repeated, urging you to finish your sentence.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” you dismissed. 

Connor murmured your name as if he were scolding a child, raising a brow as a sign of encouragement to finish.

“Well… I wouldn’t expect you to care about me… the same way… the same way I care about you,” you said, the last part coming out far too hurried. 

Maybe if you had just finished your sentence the first time you wouldn’t be in this situation. That was a perfectly normal thing to say to a friend, wasn’t it? Absolutely. Absolutely… But the way you had paused only made you look more suspicious. You knew Connor was smart enough to understand the suggestion of romantic feelings.

“How is it you feel about me?” Connor questioned.

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t feel the same anyway,” you muttered, pushing past him to be anywhere that wasn’t near him.

Before you could get too far, Connor’s iron grip wrapped around your wrist and held you in place. You looked at him with offense, but he knew you meant nothing by it.

“It does matter, Detective,” he whispered lowly. “It matters to me.”

There was no going back now. Connor already got the hint that you cared for him more than you probably should. You might as well say it outright. That was better than being embarrassed and pretending nothing happened. Right?

“I like you, Connor,” you admitted, the words sounding childish in your mouth. “God, this is so embarrassing…”

Connor was silent for a long moment, making you wonder if he actually had figured it out. If he hadn’t… God, you would be mortified. Did he really not know, and you just willingly outed yourself to him?

You risked a peek at Connor to find him already looking at you with a small smile. His hand was still holding your wrist tightly, his skin comfortingly warm against your burning skin. The glint in his eyes made your brows furrow as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Why would you think I don’t care about you?” Connor asked, the quirk of his lips telling you that he found all of this somewhat amusing.

“I mean… yeah, I would think that you care about me. On some level. I’d assume…,” you prattled. “But as a friend, obviously. Connor, I’m not sure you understand what I mean when I say I like–”

“I understand perfectly well, Detective,” Connor interrupted. “So I’ll pose the question once again: why would you think I don’t care about you?”

The confusion was clear on your face. Tilting your head to the side, you turned your body to face Connor slightly, giving him the opportunity to lightly pull your wrist until you were completely facing him. Even when he had you standing where he wanted, he still didn’t let go of your wrist, though he loosened his grasp and held you lightly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your inner wrist soothingly. Your knees felt weak, and you were sure you were going to collapse against him at any second. His touch was so loving that you almost believed he could feel the same way.

You nearly forgot Connor had asked you a question until he gave your arm a light squeeze that snapped you back to attention. He arched both eyebrows, watching you with that humorous glint. 

“I just… Well…,” you faltered. You inhaled sharply, gathering your thoughts before you continued. “I just can’t understand how or why someone like you would be interested in someone like me when there are so many better options. Yeah, I guess… I guess that’s it. I don’t know…”

“Better options?” Connor repeated. The obvious confusion in his voice warmed your heart. It was as if he had never even considered that there could be better options.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m no android, Connor. I’m not… I’m not perfect. I’m not beautiful or stunning or gorgeous. I’m not like that girl you were looking at.”

There was another long pause as Connor struggled to process your words. His LED spiraled yellow as he questioned, “What girl?”

“The Traci,” you explained in exasperation, “at the Eden Club. It looked like you were practically in love with her, and I don’t blame you. She’s the definition of perfect. Not a single flaw in sight.”

“You think you’re flawed?” Connor asked immediately. That was his biggest takeaway?

“Yes, obviously, Connor! I am! And I just find it very hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you could be attracted to someone as�� average as me,” you snapped, sounding harsher than you intended.

Connor released your wrist, and for a moment you worried that you scared him off. But then his warm hands were holding your cheeks, his thumbs now slowly running along your cheekbones. He stepped forward until his body was pressed against yours, leaning down until his forehead was nearly touching yours. His eyes latched onto yours, and for a moment, he just held your gaze in silence. He was reveling in the sight of you, so close to him that he could feel your sweet breath against his lips.

“It seems you don’t realize how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “Perhaps I’ll have to explain it to you.”

Connor paused again, searching your eyes for any effort to argue. But you were still so stunned by his sudden proximity that you had nothing to give. When he heard no contradiction, Connor smiled and continued on.

“Maybe you don’t think you’re perfect,” he started, “but I do. Everything you see as a flaw, I see as beautiful. It makes you you. It makes you so… human. And maybe you can’t understand because of it, but there’s something so pure about being human. Just being human makes you beautiful. But you… you’re different. You’re above them all.”

There was a strangely desperate look in Connor’s eyes like he was pleading with you to understand. Exhaling slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your own. He closed his eyes, his LED shifting from yellow to blue and back again as he tried to sift through the swarm of emotions.

“I don’t know why it’s you, but it is,” he whispered, his voice nearly too quiet for you to hear. “I just can’t help but notice everything about you. I love the wrinkles on your forehead when you’re confused to the point of frustration. I love when only one side of your hair is brushed because you’re too lazy to brush the other. I love when your lip bleeds because you’re biting it while you’re thinking and you don’t even notice. I love…”

Connor stopped and pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your cheeks. His LED circled red once, the worry on his face far too obvious to your keen eyes. When you didn’t say anything, Connor tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him.

Your hands quickly moved to rest over top his, holding him in place. You looked up at him with eyes full of admiration and wonder as if an angel had come and graced the earth. Maybe that’s what he was, an angel. You would believe it. With that pretty face and those sweet words, you could easily be fooled.

As you eyed Connor’s face, the corners of your lips quirked into a smile. Maybe you could be enough for him. He seemed to think so. It was that thought alone that drove you to lean forward and press the faintest of kisses to Connor’s lips. It was barely a peck, and as you pulled away, Connor leaned forward to chase after your warmth. The gesture made you laugh as you whispered against his lips.

“I love how human you are.” 

[speirslore]

when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]

a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck

[dick winters]

you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed

it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm

he wants to be strong and level-headed for you

shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side

he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you

but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...

he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why

whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)

which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol

very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you

is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says

he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it

you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down

he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand

in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3

[lewis nixon]

it does not look good at first

it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness

lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it

but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay

starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything

lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk

he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting

he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it

one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"

he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."

they back off after that

does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there

because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him

but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand

you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"

after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)

and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile

[ron speirs]

okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope

by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...

he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink

but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm

it just absolutely wrecks him

the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself

the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you

for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong

but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this

ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe

even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet

he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them

he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word

like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors

this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!

you have to comfort him and his voice breaks

and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around

"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything

"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this

[carwood lipton]

unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break

your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia

it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it

lip really tries to be comforting

and wants to be there for you and he is!

but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay

trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him

and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz

it's a MESS

but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life

it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy

but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable

you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets

kind of a bonding experience

you just laugh because what the fuck

it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together

you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war

"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest

he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3

[buck compton]

buck... does not take it well

he takes it extremely hard

like his reaction to joe and bill...

you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne

and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days

maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war

but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one

it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough

when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital

so his presence is silent reassurance

you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you

but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened

you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much

both of you have been through hell

but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way

buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war

he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck

[eugene roe]

gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse

and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else

he decides it's awful... definitely worse

the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face

and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable

and life just goes on...

a lot of pacing and murmuring

gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal

and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."

prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england

when you both felt some semblance of normalcy

he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment

it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety

whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you

and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update

winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you

likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way

gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay

[thatlotuscookie]

Hi, i love ur fic especially the one with dabi they’ve got me in a chokehold hold!! could you please write for dabi x fem!reader fic where they meet on the reader's apartment balcony (spoiler ig !) right before the final war when dabi is ab to go fight Shoto and yn tells him something like “don’t die”. Just some cute/angsty moment bc i haven’t read the manga’s ending yet but i got spoiled and pretty much know how it ends. However, ION KNOW IF DABI IS GOING TO DIE OR NOT(which is driving me crazy ngl )

✧･ﾟ: a/n : ANON THIS IS TOO GOOD. I WAS LITENING TO HERE WITH MY BY D4VD AND IT GOT ME IN THE FEELS. UGH. IT WAS SOO SADAJSHSIAHF (I cried). thank you for the request<3

✧ Title: ✧ Here With Me ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Angst, Romance ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: As Dabi prepares to leave for the final battle, time slips away, leaving him with so many things left unsaid. He won't have the chance to tell you how much he loves you or how badly he wishes things were different. The engagement ring hidden in his pocket feels heavier than ever. ✧ Content Warnings/Tags: Themes of violence, emotional turmoil, intense conversations about past trauma, and the potential for character death, angst and more angst, SPOILERS. Dabi has an engagement ring for reader (im balling my eyes out) ✧ WC: 2057 words // 11k chars

The night was heavy with tension, a storm brewing on the horizon as the world teetered on the brink of chaos. You leaned against the cool metal railing of your apartment balcony, staring out into the distance where the city lights twinkled like distant stars, each one a reminder of the life bustling below. The air felt electric, thick with unspoken words and emotions swirling in the darkness. You could sense the shift in the atmosphere; something monumental was about to unfold, a moment that could change everything.

Just then, out of the shadows, Dabi emerged, his figure cutting through the night like a specter. He stepped onto the balcony, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you fell silent. All your worries—the chaos of the world, the fear of the unknown—faded away as your eyes locked onto his. A chill ran down your spine, not just from the crisp night air but from the weight of the unspoken things hanging between you, pressing down like a physical force.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice steady yet laced with the tremor of uncertainty that mirrored the storm brewing in the distance. You wanted to sound nonchalant, but the fear in your heart seeped through.

He shrugged, a casual motion that belied the gravity of the moment. “Just wanted to see you before…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away, an uncharacteristic vulnerability evident in his posture. Your heart sank, the air thick with the unspoken truth of his words, realizing that this might be the last time you saw him before everything changed.

“Before what?” you pressed, stepping closer as if to bridge the chasm that felt too vast between you. “What’s going to happen?”

“Before I go face Shoto,” he said, the words slipping from his lips like a bitter truth. “I have to do this.” The finality in his tone struck you like a blow, leaving a knot in your stomach.

“No…” you whispered, the reality of his words crashing over you like a wave. “Dabi, please…” Your voice cracked, desperation creeping into every syllable. “Don’t go. You don’t have to do this.”

He turned his gaze back to you, and for a moment, you could see the conflict flickering in his eyes, the storm of emotions raging beneath the surface. Your heart raced in your chest, matching the frantic rhythm of your thoughts. “I do,” he insisted, but there was a softness in his tone that you clung to like a lifeline. “It’s something I need to settle.” His words were like shards of glass, sharp and piercing, and they twisted painfully in your chest.

“By fighting your brother? You’re both so much more than this,” you pleaded, feeling the heat of tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “You don’t have to prove anything. You’re more than your past, Dabi. Please… just come back to me.” The urgency in your voice hung in the air, thick and suffocating, as you tried to grasp at the fraying threads of hope.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, as his gaze drifted away. In that moment, Dabi was suddenly flooded with memories—warm, vivid recollections of you and him together. He could picture the way your laughter had danced in the air during lazy afternoons spent on the couch, the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms while binge-watching shows. He could recall the soft look in your eyes when you first told him you loved him, a moment so tender that it had made his heart swell. Your fingers intertwined with his as you stargazed on the roof, sharing dreams and secrets under the vast, open sky.

And then, as his thoughts spiraled deeper, he envisioned what it would be like to build a family with you. The way your eyes would light up as you picked out names for your children, your laughter echoing through a home filled with love. He imagined you cradling a baby in your arms, the two of you working together to raise them, teaching them right from wrong, and watching as they grew. He pictured family trips, the four of you laughing and playing, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

But that future now felt like a distant dream slipping further away with each passing moment. It hurt to think of the love he had envisioned, now overshadowed by the grim reality of his life. He had always wanted to protect you, to create a safe space where love could thrive, but now it felt like everything was crashing down around him.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the bittersweet nostalgia creeping into his thoughts. “I can’t just walk away from this,” he said finally, his voice low and heavy with regret, each word dropping like stones into the stillness. “I’ve spent so long running from my past, and now I have to face it. I can’t let it go.” The intensity in his voice cut through you, a stark reminder of the choices he felt compelled to make, choices that threatened to tear you apart.

“Dabi,” you began, your heart aching as you tried to reach him through the fog of his pain. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here. We can face it together.” The words tumbled out, raw and sincere, but he seemed trapped in his own storm, unable to see the safety you offered.

He looked at you then, and the rawness of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.” His voice was strained, the very idea of you being hurt more than he could bear, a weight pressing down on his chest.

In his heart, Dabi wrestled with a torrent of feelings, each one sharper and more poignant than the last. It terrified him how much he loved you, how you had somehow wormed your way into the very core of his being. You were the light in his dark world, the warmth he never thought he deserved. And now, as he stood on the precipice of conflict, the thought of losing you gnawed at him, a relentless ache threatening to tear him apart.

He couldn't shake the image of the engagement ring hidden away in his pocket, the one he had spent all his money on, the one he had imagined slipping onto your finger as he asked you to be his forever. It felt like a weight in his chest, a tangible reminder of everything he had dreamed of—of you, of love, of a future together. But now, standing on the brink of battle, the thought of giving it to you felt almost cruel, as if it would only deepen the wound he was about to inflict. The crushing reality that he might never get the chance to give it to you left him feeling hollow, the hope of a future together slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

“I can’t let you get hurt,” he murmured, memories swirling in his mind. He thought back to the nights you spent sharing secrets, the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the gentle touches that spoke volumes more than words ever could. “You mean so much to me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, each word a fragile admission. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The sincerity in his eyes was a flicker of hope, a lifeline in the dark. “For the first time, I’ve found someone worth fighting for.” The weight of his confession hung in the air, trembling with the enormity of his feelings.

“Then don’t go,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Stay with me. We can find another way. We can—”

But he shook his head, cutting you off with the finality of a closing door. “I have to do this. I have to face him. I can’t keep running away.” His eyes held a mixture of resolve and fear, and it shattered your heart to see him so torn, so lost.

In a sudden rush of emotion, you grasped his shirt, pulling him closer, as if the very act of touching him could ground both of you in this moment. “Just promise me you’ll come back,” you whispered, the warmth radiating from his body contrasting sharply with the cold fear gripping your heart.

“I promise,” he replied, but the wavering of his voice made it feel more like a farewell than a promise, a haunting echo of uncertainty.

The moment hung in the air, heavy and fragile, as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. Your breath hitched as he cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek with a tenderness that felt almost foreign amidst the turmoil. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that you rarely saw, and it pulled at your heart, unraveling the walls you had built around yourself.

“Every time I see you, it reminds me of everything I could lose,” he confessed, his voice shaking slightly, as if each word weighed a thousand pounds. “You make me want to fight for a future I didn’t think I could have. But this… this is my fight. I can’t turn back now.”

As he spoke, memories flooded back to him, warm and intimate. He remembered the time you two went on that impromptu adventure, sneaking away from the world for just a few hours to enjoy a quiet day at the park. The laughter you shared, the way you playfully shoved him when he teased you, the moment when he caught you in a surprise kiss under the blossoming cherry trees—every detail etched in his mind like a beautiful tapestry woven with your shared love.

And now, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he could see the family he wanted with you, the life that could have been. It was a vision that crushed him more than anything else—the weight of unfulfilled dreams pressing heavily on his soul.

“I want to marry you,” he admitted suddenly, the words slipping from his lips like a confession, raw and desperate. “I want to have a family with you. But I need to make sure I’m worth that first. I can’t do it without facing my past.” His gaze was unwavering, and you could see the boy he once was fighting against the man he had become.

And in that moment, Dabi realized that it was more than just the fight with his brother; it was the fight for a life worth living, a life where love could blossom amid the ashes. He wanted to build a future with you—a family filled with warmth and laughter, memories that would echo in the halls of a home you would create together. But now, that future felt like a flickering candle in a tempest, barely holding on.

As the storm raged above, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that held all the desperation of the world. It was a kiss filled with longing, sadness, and a sense of finality that sent your heart racing. You poured every ounce of your love into that kiss, willing him to understand that he wasn’t alone, that you would stand by him no matter the cost.

When he finally pulled away, his breath mingled with yours, and you could see the conflict still raging in his eyes. “I have to go,” he said finally, the words tasting like ash on his tongue, as he prepared to step back into the darkness from which he had come.

The shadows swallowed him up, and you felt an ache in your chest, a hollow space where his presence had just been. You watched him disappear into the night, the promise of his return echoing in your heart, a fragile hope flickering in the depths of your soul.

As he vanished into the shadows, the storm finally broke overhead, rain pouring down in torrents, mirroring the turmoil within you. You stood there, heart pounding, longing for his return, the weight of the promise lingering like a shadow, a reminder that even in darkness, there was still a flicker of light, a chance for a future filled with the love you both so desperately needed.

[propertyofkylar]

kinktober day 11: tender (m!whitney x f!reader)

word count: 1087

tags/warnings: tenderness (im a deredere whitney truther), canon-compliant violence mentioned, regular whitney name-calling, penetrative sex, public sex kinda ig they're in the school bathroom

���You really are such a stupid slut.”

Your feet dangled beneath the bathroom counter you were sitting on, the pile of used and crumpled up paper towels growing each minute. You clenched the hem of your shirt in your hands. “I’m sorry.”

Whitney rolled his eyes, dabbing blood away from your nose with a surprising amount of tenderness as he stood between your legs. “Don’t apologize. That’s stupid. Just don’t fucking do it next time.”

You opened your mouth, another apology about to spill out almost automatically, but you quickly closed it, opting for a brief nod instead - one that didn’t impact Whitney’s cleaning of your face. “…yeah. You’re right.”

He sighed and added the paper towel to the pile. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

You frowned. “I was thinking I could take those guys in a fight…”

Whitney shook his head and held your face in his hands, examining you closely. “Should’ve just got me. I could’ve made it all go away. Dumbass.”

He was acting nonchalant, but you could tell that your boyfriend actually was worried about you. Despite the pain you were in from having the shit beaten out of you, your heart swelled with affection, and you gave him a small smile. He quickly looked away, but the tips of his ears were turning red. “Whatever,” he muttered, clearing his throat and turning back to you with a smug look on his face. “Though, I gotta say, slut. You look pretty hot covered in blood.”

“Oh, do I?” You said teasingly, placing your hands on Whitney’s shoulders. 

He nodded. “Yeah. So now where’s my thanks for patching you up, mm?”

Your lips met with Whitney still cradling your face, and you sensed a bit of hesitancy from him. He was holding himself back to not aggravate your bruises, you realized. The uncharacteristic gentleness from Whitney further aroused you, and you deepened the kiss. 

Whitney groaned into your mouth, bracing his hands on your thighs now as he leaned into you. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. He slotted perfectly between your legs, his groin pressed right up against the edge of the counter. Needing him impossibly closer still, you wrapped your legs around his waist, enveloping him in you. Now, he was right in front of where you needed him most, your aching cunt bare under your skirt and just inches away.

That movement made Whitney chuckle. “Needy little slut,” he breathed against your lips. And you couldn’t deny it, you were desperate. The heat was growing inside of you, and you needed to share it with him. So all you could do was nod. 

He quickly undid his pants, exposing his thick, hard cock. Just the sight of it made you moan involuntarily, and Whitney smirked as he spit into his hand and idly stroked his shaft. “I’ve trained you well,” he said smugly. 

At this point, you were starting to feel like you might go crazy if you didn’t have him inside of you. “Please, Whitney,” you whispered, and felt pleased when his face turned pink.

But he shook it off. “So desperate you’ll beg without me even telling you to,” he muttered, hiding his face from you. Then he leaned forward and slid himself into your sweet, aching heat. 

You started moaning the instant his tip entered you. Whitney was still moving slowly, as if any sudden movements could break you. It was sweet; the odd ways your boyfriend showed he cared, since he seemed allergic to any other forms of affection. But it was also frustrating, considering how horny you were - how horny he had made you.

Soon, his full length was buried in you, and you whined at how full you felt. “Feels good,” you mumbled, your head dropping to his shoulder. 

You heard him laugh in your ear, but it was breathy. “Such a slut, you even want my cock when you’re injured. No sense of self-preservation, eh?” 

You shook your head, tugging at his hair. “More.”

Whitney started to thrust into you, slowly at first but gaining speed each time he moved. “Feel s’good around me,” he groaned, biting the shell of your ear and trailing wet kisses down your neck. One hand came to rub at your clit, and the feeling had you arching your back.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your fingers threading through his hair further. That seemed to ignite Whitney, whose hips were moving quicker still while his thumb rubbed circles on your most sensitive spot.

“Falling apart - hah - right in front of me,” Whitney groaned again, though he seemed to be falling apart himself. “Glad those guys just beat you up and nothing more, I - ngh - don’t want anyone’s hands on my slut.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the heat intensified in your belly. “‘m your slut, Whit,” you whined. “Harder!”

He did as you demanded, slamming his cock into you and bumping the perfect spot in your walls. “J-just like that! Ah, ah, Whitney, please…” you were babbling and you knew it was complete nonsense, but he had you so fucked out you couldn’t form comprehensive thoughts. He always did that - Whitney knew your body as well as he knew his own at this point, and he knew exactly the right angles and touches to have you come undone each time.

It was too much to bear. Your fingers practically yanked his hair out as you came around his perfect cock, stars dancing before your closed eyes. A cry slipped out of your mouth as the climax hit, and Whitney’s shaky grunts as his hips pistoned into you signaled that his own orgasm wasn’t too far behind. 

“F-fuck, slut,” he panted. You opened your eyes to see his face red and sweaty. Now Whitney definitely was the one falling apart. He suddenly pulled out of you, stroking his twitching dick as ropes of cum shot out and splattered across your bare thighs. Once he was finished, breathing heavily, he leaned in and gave you a rough, biting kiss.

“There,” Whitney said as he pulled away, running his hand through his hair and looked down at the cum on your legs. “Now you’re marked. Those fuckers’ll leave you alone next time. I’m sure of it.”

He tucked himself back into his pants, swept the crumpled paper towels into the trash, and then grabbed your hand to pull you off the counter. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here, slut. This place is nasty.”

[darklyndivinely]

Hello hello! Could I request some Mammon fluff? Maybe like a day of spoiling him silly and he’s all surprised about it? Thanks!

Stupid Human

Pairing - Mammon x gn!reader

Summary - Mammon wants to know why you are spending your money on him.

Warnings - Fluff, kissing, Mams calls reader stupid so that ig.

Wordcount - 350+

A/N - Hey, thank you so much for requesting. I know it's been a while and that this is probably so much shorter than you wanted. But I wanted to write something short and sweet so I hope that you still like it. I have no idea how many times I used the word stupid in this lmao.

Masterlist • Leave a tip! • Taglist Form

“Why are ya doing this?” Mammon asks. His voice is uncharacteristically low, brows pinched tight, and he's halted in his steps.

You stop where you were walking backwards talking to him. “Do you not want donuts? We could have something else. A pastry, or a—”

“I don’t mean that. I meant why are you spending so much of your money on me? You’ve been doing extra shifts at Madam Scream’s for weeks now, I’ve seen ya. So why are you spending all of it on me? Ya should be getting something for yourself, not buying me a stupid fedora.”

“I thought you liked the fedora,” you tease, tilting your head at the strange zebra-print hat that had caught his eye. He had a thing for animal-inspired apparel it seems.

Mammon growls, annoyed, deep from the chest, and you laugh, turning around to continue walking towards the donut shop across the lobby.

“Because I wanted to.” You shrug, looking back to see him starting to follow you. “I know you lost out on that big modelling gig, and I also heard your fight with Levi yesterday. I just wanted to cheer you. And what better way to get my first man smiling again than to take him out shopping?”

Mammon stops beside you, warm-eared under his obnoxious hat, and shuffles the bags in one hand to intertwine the other with yours. “You’re a stupid human,” he declares.

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“But you’re my stupid human”—he pushes the door open, holding it for you as you step in—“and as your first man I deserve a chocolate éclair for putting up with you.”

“Just a chocolate éclair? I was going to offer you a kiss as well, but I guess my first man isn’t interested in that.”

“Wha—” he sputters, tightening his hold on your hand and pulling you closer. “You can’t not give me my kiss, that is so—” 

You lean up and shut his mouth for him.

He stares at you a moment, stunned. “More,” he whispers then, capturing your lips with a fervent need that somehow feels fitting and familiar in this sweet-smelling half-empty donut shop.

“Look at you, turning into mush for a stupid human.”

“Shaddup!”

This time you laugh when his lips chase yours again and push away to order two chocolate éclairs for a stupid human and their stupid demon.

Taglist: @w01f2

[brairslair]

Hey!! I loved your Peter Parker fic!!

I hope you're taking requests, if yes can you please write harry potter x ravenclaw!reader? Where reader is a muggleborn and loves muggle music, she does this thing where she gives all her friends a song which reminds her of them, even multiple to Hermione (who secretly loves it and listens to those on loop) and ron( who tries to act like he doesn't care but secretly feels loved) but she's never given harry a song, despite him being her best friend. But after one of DA meetings they are alone and harry asks her why doesn't she give him a song (fallin' all in you- Shawn Mendez) and she plays it for him a and that it reminds her of him, AND THEY KISS!!

I'm really sorry if it's too specific, please feel free to change anything! THANK YOU SM!! I LOVE YOUR FICS!!❤️❤️✨

definitely not too specific! i love that you gave me so much to work with, so ty anon! i did switch it up a little bit, but i hope it turned out to your liking!

318 Hours 43 Minutes ˗ˏˋ H.J.P ´ˎ˗

“Be my summer in a winter day, love”

harry potter x ravenclaw!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

REQUESTED: yes requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, not proofread, fluff fluff fluff, muggleborn!reader, reader is described as somewhat of a musical prodigy, modern music, mobile phones, and spotify all exist in this timeline, 7th year, kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lover ig, joking mentions of death, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: i'm sure there are tons of grammatical errors in here but lets pretend we don't see them!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

If there was one thing you couldn't live without, it would be music. It was almost impossible to recall a time you had left your dorms without your headphones. Music had just always been a huge part of your life. Growing up, your parents got you into piano lessons, and you were playing Beethoven by the end of the first month. After that, you picked up as many instruments as you could afford, starting with violin, then guitar, the flute, and now the harp. Your parents had to soundproof the house.

Once you got your acceptance into Hogwarts as a witch, your whole world turned upside down. You were sorted into Ravenclaw, which felt very fitting, and were assigned a dormmate, Padme Patil. The two of you clicked immediately and became instant friends. After a few months of hanging out with the Patil sisters, you were introduced to three Gryffindor students in your year; Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Instantly, you felt some sort of a connection pulling you to them, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You started hanging out with "The Golden Trio", as you affectionately called them, all the time, and the four of you eventually became a quartet. You had grown especially close with Harry, and the two of you did almost everything together. Well, everything except study.

After one particular study date with Hermione, you were thrilled to learn that she shared the same love for muggle music as you did. The two of you rambled on and on about your favorites, uncharacteristically losing track of your studies.

"The song Rises the Moon reminds me a lot of you!" You mindlessly exclaimed, watching as Hermione's eyes lit up.

The rest was history. You were known to associate songs with the people around you, and you had no shame in telling them. You had given Hermione, Ron, and the Patil sisters a countless number of songs over the years. In fact, you had given them so many, that a few had made playlists to keep track of all of them. Ron was the most hesitant to accept the recommendations, but Hermione told you she had caught him singing along to them in the common room on multiple occasions.

Every once in a while, you would even see another student studying in the library, maybe one you had only said 'Hello' to in passing, and a song would just scream out to you so loudly that you had to leave them a note about it as you left.

It was like your own personal love language, and you loved being able to make people smile, even if they never listened to the song.

The one person close to you whom you had never given a song to, was the infamous Harry Potter, and it was painfully hard for him to ignore. After almost seven years of being best friends, you would think he would have been worthy of at least one song, right?

He watched as you expertly conjured up the Draught of Peace potion the class was supposed to be working on, smacking Ron's hand away when he goes to touch it. Watching you was the only thing that made this class somewhat bearable.

He can't get it out of his head... the fact that you've never given him a song. He's been thinking about it non-stop since you gave that Hufflepuff boy a song in the dining hall a few days ago.

It wasn't news to him that he had been in love with you since 5th year, probably longer than that before he had even realized, but he would sooner die than admit it out loud.

You were the most important person in the world to him, but he was almost positive you didn't feel the same way. He would never be able to forgive himself if he ruined your friendship. So, he just kept his big mouth shut and pretended like there was nothing there.

He thought he was really good at faking it too. He wasn't.

Anyone with eyes could see the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his smile looked ten times brighter when you were around. It was blatantly obvious he had it bad for you.

What wasn't as obvious was that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. You may have been much better at hiding it, but anyone close to you could see it clear as day. I mean, it was silly really. The way you were both so stupidly in love and too scared to see it.

Harry snapped to attention as Professor Snape called on him, spitting out to 'straighten his spine and get back to work'. He grumbled something under his breath before following instructions. When he looked back at you, he found your eyes already on him, giggling at the scene he had caused before returning to your schoolwork. He loved hearing your laugh.

As the class ended, Harry gathered his things into his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder as he straightened his robes. Snape was the first to leave the classroom, followed by a small swarm of students who were anxious to get back to the common rooms for some much-needed free time. Harry looked over to where you and Ron had been sitting, watching you pull out a scrap of parchment with messy little scribbles on it, before sliding it over to the red head.

"I found a new song the other night, and it reminded me so much of you, I just had to write it down before I forgot the title." You smiled, watching Ron look over the writing, thanking you awkwardly as he shoved it into his pocket.

Harry suddenly felt his pockets get lighter.

"I'll be in the library with Hermione tonight. Wants to tutor me for Transfiguration." He said in an annoyed tone, though you knew he was secretly looking forward to it. "You wanna come? Could use all the help I can get."

Harry secretly hoped you would say no.

You packed up all your belongings, making sure not to forget any of your notes, "Yeah, sure! Just have to do a few things first, but I can stop by in a bit." You smiled, the way you always do, as you shoved folders into your bag.

"Alright," Ron nodded, "I'll see you." He said as you waved each other goodbye, Ron heading for the exit. "Oh hey, Harry." He threw out casually as he left the room, calling attention to the boy in the back of the otherwise empty classroom.

You quickly turned around, smiling brightly when you saw him still sitting awkwardly in his seat. "Oh hey, Harry!" You repeated, "You're still here?"

Harry regained common sense then, now realizing he had been staring at you for the past hour, he stood from his seat and walked over to you. "Yeah..." He trailed off dumbly, still in his own thoughts. He head got cloudy as your perfume surrounded him.

He had debated on bringing it up for the past few months, but was to scared of your response. Honestly at this point, he could barely focus on anything BUT asking you about it. He figured that at this point it would be better to just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.

"Hey, uh... Could I ask you something?" His voice cracked.

"Yeah, of course!" You finally slung the bag over your shoulder, giving Harry your full attention. "Ask away."

Your voice sounded sickly sweet, and it somehow made him more nervous. "Alright... Well, uh, I was just wondering-" He felt far too vulnerable to look into your eyes, so instead he looked at your shoulder. He had to clear his throat, "I was wondering why you've never given me a song?" He slurred out, trying to act casual about it while his heart was beating at top speeds.

Your smile immediately dropped, and Harry's stomach fell into his shoes at the sight. Now it was your turn to avoid eye contact, looking down at your feet and chewing on your cheek as you debated a response.

Harry felt like he was about to pass out. His hands grew clammy, and he could hear his heart hammering in his ears. The only times he had ever seen you not smiling were when something really terribly tragic had happened, or when your friends were upset themselves. This had to be a bad sign, right?"

Meanwhile, a million thoughts swirled through your head. You had hoped he hadn't noticed the exclusion, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. You felt sick to your stomach. How could you lie your way out of this one? You hated lying, especially to Harry, and you didn't want to hurt him. Could you really risk telling him the truth? What if he freaks out and goes running for the hills and all your years of friendship are ruined?

"You know what, it doesn't matter." Harry brushed off weakly, starting to back away from you, "I don't need to know! It's no big deal, just forget I even said anything-"

"Harry, wait-" you instinctually grabbed his hand, making him freeze. You let go to reach into your bag, Harry cautiously getting closer. His confusion increased when you pulled your phone out, rapidly typing on it to pull something up. When you finally found it, you took a deep breath. Once he saw what you were about to show him, there would be no turning back. Finally, you made yourself turn the phone around so Harry could see the screen.

It was a private playlist titled "For Harold", and the cover photo was a picture that Hermione took of the two of you after a snowball fight last Christmas break. Falling all over each other in laughter, completely covered in snow.

You handed the phone to him, limbs shaking too much to hold it steady. He looked below the title to see the timestamp read 318h 43m.

You felt like your stomach was being tied in knots.

"This is why I've never given you a song." You admitted quietly. His expression was hard to read. Brows furrowed and mouth slightly open in shock. "I just... There were too many that reminded me of you."

Harry still hadn't looked at you or said a word, and you started to feel like you'd bounce right off the floor with how much you were vibrating.

Then he stopped scrolling, staring at the title of one particular song much too long for your liking. Even worse, he pressed play. As soon as the song started, you shrunk down into the desk behind you.

Sunrise, with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak, open your eyes Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night We're changing our minds here Be yours, be mine, dear

You busied yourself by playing with your fingers, looking absolutely anywhere but at Harry.

So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away, yeah Be my summer in a winter day, love

You started to feel incredibly antsy, regretting ever showing him the playlist. "We really don't have to listen to the whole thing-"

I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us Be mine, be mine, yeah Anytime, anytime

You squeezed your eyes shut to try and save yourself from some embarrassment, but when you opened them, you found Harry looking at you with the biggest smile you'd ever seen in your life. Your belly flipped.

You are bringing out a different kind of me There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free Fallin' all in you Fell for men who weren't how they appear, yeah Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free Fallin' all in you

Harry was beaming, putting the phone down on the desk beside him. He slowly made his way closer to you, and no matter how badly you wanted to look away from him, you couldn't.

He was now so close to you that you could feel his breath fan across your lips, and the song faded in the background as your heart pounded. "Is this how you really feel? About me?" He asked as his cheeks turned pink, and you couldn't help but find the silly question endearing.

You nodded your head, deciding that your voice would give out if you tried to speak right now. The eye contact was almost unbearable, and you broke it with a quick glance down to his lips.

The second you did, his lips were immediately on yours, pressing hard into you. You gasped against his lips in shock. You felt like your whole body was on fire.

He pulled away too soon, mumbling a boyish "Sorry about that-", before you chased his lips and pulled them back down to yours, muffling the rest of his apology. This time it lasted.

Your lips felt like they were home against his, moving slow and sweet, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed happily into the kiss, pouring the years of pent-up feelings out for each other. His lips tasted like pumpkin, and butterbeer, and the sweet vanilla chapstick you gave him. It made you giggle a little against his lips.

You melted as he mindlessly cornered you against the desk, his hands gently holding your face like you were made of glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to ground yourself. His lips curled up into a smile against yours, and you involuntarily matched the expression. It all felt so... right. Like all of the pieces were finally falling into place.

Unfortunately, you both need oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. He rested his forehead against yours, as you share the air between you. You pulled him impossibly closer, nudging his nose with yours, both knowing you felt just as lovesick for each other.

Then your phone dinged. Harry looked down at the message from Ron, reading "Hey, you still coming tonight?"

He picked it up to respond, "Can't, sorry!" before flipping it over carelessly, both of you giggling as he pulled you back for another kiss.

i had so much fun writing thissss ugh this was such a sweet prompt. tysm anon!