#yes i really did just do all of his names

[tojicide]

JEALOU$Y. ☆ CALEB.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. at the end of the day, you and caleb are just childhood friends—nothing more, nothing less. so, when you mention going on a date, it’s totally logical that he wouldn’t care, right? if only that were the truth.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem! reader, current! caleb, zayne mention, jealousy, pet names, praise, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v, creampie. 𝑤𝑐. 5.4k.

𝑛����𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. jealou$y — the neighbourhood.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Doomsday has finally dawned upon Linkon City, though Caleb seems to be the only person truly affected by this catastrophe.

It was all his fault in the grand scheme of things. He hadn’t been clear enough, hadn’t shown the full extent of his feelings for you. But above all, he should have never offered Zayne those measly words of advice.

He should have known that the doctor had ulterior motives. Why else would he have called Caleb up one week ago to ask about you of all people?

It was a mean ploy, truly. Anyone and everyone knows about Caleb’s inability to shut up about you, his sole weakness was being exploited right in front of his eyes and he was none the wiser. The questions seemed harmless then. Posed as genuine curiosity, Caleb would have never been able to decipher the hidden intent behind each word that Zayne spoke into the receiver.

What are her days off? What does she do in her free time? You said that the restaurant around the corner from Akso Hospital was her favorite, yes?

In retrospect, he should have absolutely seen this coming. But then again, nothing could have ever prepared Caleb to hear those four life-altering words slipping from your lips.

“I have a date.”

A record scratches in his brain, forcing him to halt his steps for an abnormally long time before he slowly turns to face you. “You… what?”

Hearing the words repeated in that saccharine tone of yours only added salt to the wound, oddly enough. It physically pained him to ask for more information about your date, though he managed to hide his disdain with that boyish grin of his and a bit of lighthearted teasing.

But inside? That little green monster was stirring, and there was very little he could do to quell it.

Begrudgingly, he managed to get the key details before forcing himself to stow away in his bedroom and… think. Next Thursday. 6 PM. Maltosio Restaurant. With Zayne.

The next week passed by in an agonizingly slow fashion. It was as though each X that marked a passing day was a physical blow to his already aching heart, and those adorable images of the kittens on his calendar (the calendar that you picked out) did very little to help him.

Subtlety was never his strong suit, but then again, desperate times call for desperate measures. And believe Caleb when he says that he is very much desperate.

“Soo…” he’d drawl, leaning over the back of the couch to peer down at you. “I heard there’s a screening of that movie you’ve been wanting to see at the drive-in next Thursday. Wanna come with?”

You perked up like a ball of excitement, and for a moment, Caleb allowed himself to get his hopes up, but your frown quickly dissipated them. “Next Thursday? Oh, no, I can’t make it! I’m going out with Zayne, remember?”

Of course he remembered. That was exactly why he hadn’t let up—not even once—in his attempts to distract you just enough to make you forget all about your dinner plans. He could take you out for a nice dinner too. Say, that’s actually a good idea…

The next day, Caleb tried that one.

“Oh, pip-squeak,” he sang, his airy voice ringing through your apartment as he walked down the hallway. “I got us reservations at the restaurant in Skyhaven that you’ve been itchin’ to check out.”

You perked up, just like you did before. “Really?”

He nodded with a triumphant grin, internally patting himself on the back for his own good idea. “Mm-hmm. Next Thursday. Got us those window seats you wanted too—the ones that overlook the city.”

And once again, your gaze softened, and an all-too-adorable pout tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, Caleb, I’m sorry. I’m busy that day.”

You really are too sweet for your own good. He can’t even blame Zayne for taking an interest in you, he’d be downright shocked if any man with two seeing eyes had the audacity to not think that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Caleb sure does. He always has. He always will.

It wasn’t long before the day of reckoning was upon him. Thursday evening. Sunlight cut through the blinds in the living room, casting golden hues across the vast space. Much to his dismay, the trashy reality television you’d left on the screen did very little to soothe his worries.

He fidgeted with the dog chains you’d gifted him, his thumb brushing along the gift that you had so kindly given him. It was a testament to your bond. A bond that something as trivial as a single evening apart couldn’t tamper with… right?

“Caleb!” Your antsy voice cut through the air, forcing his wandering mind to snap back to reality.

He was up and down the hallway before you could even say another word, pressing a flat hand to your door to nudge it open. It was then that he saw you, all dolled up in your robe with your favorite dresses laid out on your bed.

Your hands grasp onto two of the hangers, holding them up side-by-side to help him get a better look at them. Though, his eyes were noticeably distracted, contorted in an unfamiliar lovesick expression as they pierced into yours. “Quick! Which do you think is cuter?”

Caleb blinks—once, twice, three times—until he forces himself to finally look down at the dress options in your grasp. He’d seen you wear them plenty of times before, and the thought of someone else seeing you in such beautiful fabric nearly made his stomach lurch.

He raises his forearm, leaning against the doorframe as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, c’mon, that’s an impossible choice. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

It was a typical response, one that you were expecting, though his lack of advice made you hmph as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “Well… I hear polka dots symbolize happiness and stripes symbolize slipping between realms. Pretty interesting stuff, huh?”

“Very interesting,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up at the mere sound of your voice. “Is that why you buy so many things in those patterns?”

You quirk an eyebrow, confusion etching into your expression. “Huh? What else do I buy that’s…” It quickly dawns on you, and you can feel heat creep up your neck and reach your face. “You’re a jerk.”

Caleb can’t help but laugh, taking a few steps into the room so that he can properly look at each and every one of the dress options laid out on your bed. “What’s the matter? If I remember correctly, someone was beggin’ me to do her laundry. Somethin’ about the laundry machine being sooo far and your feet hurting sooo bad.”

Huffing and far too flustered for your own good, you shake your head. “Well… well I didn’t realize you were so observant.”

He clicks his tongue, absentmindedly pinching your side as he leans down to rest his chin in the dip of your shoulder. “Tsk. You know I’m always observant when it comes to you. Even if it’s remembering something as trivial as the patterns of your cute little undies.”

You swat him away. “You’re so annoying!”

To that, he can only chuckle, giving your sides a brief squeeze before taking a few steps back. “Alriiight, alright, I’ll leave you alone.” Before exiting the room entirely, he hangs onto the doorframe, giving you a soft smile. “I’m serious though. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” His lips curve into a smirk. “But if you want my input—you know I’ve always been a sucker for seeing you in florals.”

And with that, he whisks away, silently hoping and praying that this date will fall through on its own. Plopping back down on the couch, his eyes are practically glued to his watch. 5:48 PM. It wouldn’t be long before Zayne would be knocking at the front door—punctual as ever. Oh, it made him sick.

How could he have done this? To you, to himself? Caleb should be ashamed. He should be the one sitting across from you later tonight, holding your hand and listening to you ramble about whatever your heart desires. It should be him. It would have been him if he wasn’t so damn afraid.

But the sound of approaching heels clicking along the hardwood floor quickly snapped him out of his pity party, prompting him to look over his shoulder. And there you were once again, now adorned in a floral sundress that had made him lose his mind more times than he’d like to admit.

Under his breath, he can’t help but mutter, “Yeah, you’re gonna kill me…”

It was his favorite dress of yours, too. You really were trying to kill him. A white dress that was littered with blue flowers, the fabric fit you perfectly, loose and fitted in all of the right places.

Zayne didn’t deserve to see you like this. Plain and simple.

Standing from the couch, he lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “There she is,” he says, taking your hand to spin you around a single time. His smile only widens as he sees yours. “You look gorgeous, just like I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes with a bashful smile, one that he has to physically fight the urge to kiss away. “Oh, you flatter me,” you say through a laugh.

He shakes his head, bringing a hand up to gently smooth down a pesky hair on the top of your head. “Can’t be flattery if I mean every word of it.”

A breeze wafted through the open window, blowing the fabric of your dress ever so slightly. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers infiltrates the living room, though the scent of your perfume and something that was uniquely you had his full attention.

“Y’know, you can be pretty nice when you want to be,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Chuckling, he simply nods, his large hands settling on your middle. “Yeah. When I want to be.”

You brush past him, padding over to the back door. Pushing it open, you step out onto the warm concrete patio, breathing in the fresh air that the backyard had to offer you. Spring in Linkon was always a delight, though the warmth that Caleb radiates behind you serves to be the most comforting thing about the entire scene.

His hand comes to rest on the curve of your shoulder, his fingers nimbly pulling at one of the straps of your dress. With his heart rate shooting through the roof, he forces himself to take a moment. He needs to get this right. This may be the last chance he’ll be able to do this.

“I… look, there’s something that I—”

But suddenly, the sound of rapping knuckles at the front door cuts through the tense silence. Both of your attention is drawn to the closed door, and having left the back door open, you both have a clear view of it.

You turn around to face Caleb, offering him a sheepish smile. “That’s probably Zayne.”

He only nods, forcing his hand to fall back to his side. “Yeah, probably.”

This was it. He was losing you. It stung to know that this was no one’s fault apart from his own. His inability to be honest about his feelings, his lack of forwardness with you… what was he expecting? That you’d never date? That he could keep you happy forever without offering you anything more?

It was a stupid fantasy, one that had earned him this spot. But when he saw you turn to leave, your eyes still locked on his, a surge of panic shot up his spine. His eyes flit around—the grass, the flowerbeds, the hose… that was currently filling up the pool…

“Be mad at me later,” he suddenly says.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Wha— ah!”

Before you could even begin to process what was happening, you were suddenly pushed back into the chamber full of chlorine infested water. Caleb watches with a wry expression as you shoot up from beneath the water, splashing aimlessly as you swim towards the edge.

“What the fuck was that?” you bark, perching one elbow up onto the concrete as you reach the other one out to him. “What the hell are you looking at? Help me out!”

Caleb can’t even protest, not with the incredibly irrational stunt he’d just pulled. “I’m sorry, pip-squeak, I just…” And so, he reaches down, his hand clasping around yours… until you pull him forward with all of your strength and send him tumbling into the pool too.

And when he comes up for air, you splash him the moment he opens his eyes. Serves him right. The chlorine will sting his eyes almost as much as your mascara is stinging yours right now.

With that, you pull yourself out of the pool, a trail of water marking your path as you wring out the fabric of your dress. After that, you disappear inside of the house, leaving Caleb to rub his eyes in utter defeat.

He gives you both a long stretch of alone time before he retreats back into the house like a kicked puppy, his head hanging low as he runs a hand through his wet strands of hair. You’ve evidently told Zayne that today wasn’t going to work anymore, judging by his lack of presence, and that thought alone makes Caleb more happy than he should be.

Sucking in a short breath, he knocks twice at your shut bedroom door. “Honey? It… it’s me.”

“Go away,” you retort without missing a single beat.

Caleb pokes his tongue into his cheek as he leans forward, resting his forehead on the cool surface of your bedroom door. “C’mon. Just… talk to me.”

It doesn’t take long before the door is swung open, revealing an incredibly angry version of you with a freshly cleaned face. He opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, to try and rectify the situation in any way he can, but you beat him to it. Quickly.

“How dare you?” you spit, jabbing your index finger into his chest. “What was that, Caleb? Are we ten years old again? Your method of communication is… is pushing me into the damn pool?”

He sighs, catching your hand to unfold your closed fingers. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I—”

“No!” you cut him off, sticking your other index finger into his chest. “It’s your turn to listen. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, you’re all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever wanted. Do you know how it feels to have everything you want dangled in front of you for so many years, and… and just torn away? Time and time again?”

Caleb is rendered speechless, his brows furrowed in both confusion and a sense of odd relief as you unleash all of the thoughts that you’ve kept hidden for so long. He doesn’t bother catching your other hand, instead, he allows you to repeatedly jab at his chest. It hurts, but he can handle it. Just like he can handle the words you’re saying.

“So, you know what? I decided that enough was enough!” you continue, your index finger pressing wildly into the hard planes of his chest. “I wasn’t going to wait around, I wasn’t going to pretend, I was going to move on! And… and I was going to!”

He tilts his head, his amethyst eyes growing fuzzy as he looks down at you. “Was going to?”

You huff, eyes narrowing as you jab your finger into his chest for a final time before turning away from him. “Well, I’m not exactly going on a date anymore, am I?”

Caleb nods, though you can’t see it. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze tracing your silhouette through the soaked fabric of your dress. Sighing, he straightens off the wall, but before he can turn away, you spin around to face him.

“And you know what else?” you huff. “You know the solution to this problem just as well as I do.”

He nods his head with a single jerk of his chin, beckoning you to continue. “Yeah? What’s that?”

You step closer, and for the final time, you stab your finger into his pec. “You need to grow a pair.”

Inhaling deeply, all he can do is smile. It infuriates you and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself. He takes both of your wrists and tugs you forward until your chest presses against his own, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.

You’re slowly simmering down, the heat of your outburst dissipating as your skin cooled. With your eyebrows still furrowed, all you can do is look up at him, daring him to speak. To do anything.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip.

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “A little.”

He slowly nods his head, his fingers curving along your jaw before he cups your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there anything I can do to help with that?”

You can feel his breath fan along your lips, cool and minty and just about everything you could have ever fantasized about on your own. You part your lips to reply, but this time, Caleb is the one who beats you to it.

“We’re making puddles all over the floor, you know.”

Glancing down, you see the truth in his words. The pool water dripped from your respective clothing and gathered around the two of you, making a wry smile find your lips.

“Oh,” you breathe, “I didn’t even notice.”

“I like to think I’m pretty observant when it comes to you,” he murmurs, smoothing his free hand along your side until it grasps onto the fabric of your dress. “Need some help with this?”

You look up, meeting his gaze once more. “With… with what?”

“Well,” he drawls, his fingertips brushing along your outer thigh as he slowly drags the fabric upward. His movements are hesitant and cautious, his eyes flickering between each of yours. “You’re wet. I’m wet. Maybe we can… help each other dry off.”

Your eyelids falter as they flit between his, your gaze instinctively falling to the plush curve of his bottom lip. “Okay,” you murmur.

A smile tugs at his mouth. “Okay. Arms up.”

Slowly, you lift your arms above your head. His hands work together to slowly push the fabric of your dress up and over your head, letting it slip onto the floor with a wet plop.

His breath is nearly torn from his lungs the moment he sees your bare skin, so beautiful and soft and made to be his. Hesitantly, his fingertips trace the curve of your hips with a sense of reverence.

“Do you need help too?” you ask, your voice breathy from the restrained sense of need that has come over you.

Pausing his exploration of your bare skin, Caleb finds himself nodding, almost immediately lifting his arms over his head. “Please.”

And now, you take the opportunity to do the same. Slowly, you peel his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly into the laundry hamper near the door. Your gaze traces over the defining lines of his abdomen, your touch doing the same as it trails southward.

His lower stomach tenses up as your fingers brush against the hem of his jeans. He can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut, the way a touch so simple can nearly bring him to his knees. Breathing shakily, he leans down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Careful,” he breathes in warning, his voice taking on a raspy tone.

You almost startle at the unfamiliarity of his voice, though you push your hesitation aside as your thumb brushes over the button of his pants. “But… these are wet too.”

A huff of air leaves his mouth, the sound something between a low laugh and a groan. He forces his eyes open, his stare meeting your own. “Trying to get me naked before our first kiss? I have to say, you’re full of surprises.”

Faltering, your hands fall away from his pants. “You’re right, I… I’m—”

Caleb can’t help but chuckle, taking a hold of your hands to bring them right back to where they were before. This time, he guides your fingers through the motion of unbuttoning his pants. “Kidding,” he whispers against your lips. “Besides… we’re good at multitasking, yeah?”

You’re nodding before you can truly process his words. “Yeah.”

His lips crash onto yours with a groan that omits from deep within, the button of his jeans finally popping open from your ministry. The zipper went next, tugged down along with the fabric entirety until he was left in only his boxers.

His hands roam your curves greedily, eating up every inch of skin that he has deprived himself of for far too long. Your waist, your hips, your thighs—he needs to feel you in any way possible.

And you return his eagerness so well, wrapping your arms around his neck as you draw him in even closer. His hands worked quickly, hoisting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked the both of you over to your bed.

Laying you down on the mattress, he takes the initiative to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip to gain access that you readily give him. He can’t help but moan into your mouth, the sweet taste of your tongue tangling with his own forcing his brain to short circuit in a way he’s never experienced before.

You kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and he was loving every second of it. Your hands fisted into his hair while your lips moved in tandem with his, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands gave your hips a firm squeeze.

His lips trail down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck and the curve of your shoulder as he uses his grip on your hips to pull you flush against him. A gasp leaves you at the feeling of his erection pressing against your clothes sex, the friction so delicious that it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Caleb is so far gone, kissing his way along your arms, your neck, your sternum, all up until he reaches the valley of your breasts. He wastes very little time there, licking a trail to your nipple before sucking the peak into his mouth. His other hand palms at your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, his hips rocking forward as he switches sides, latching onto your neglected breast and giving it a hard suck. “So beautiful.”

His descent continues as he mouths at the soft skin of your belly, your hips, your inner thighs. His eyes depart from yours as they settle onto the fabric covering your cunt, and a grin stretches across his face. Polka dots.

You scoff, softly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t even say it.”

Chuckling, he leans in to press a kiss on the damp patch of fabric. “Wasn’t gonna say anything, baby.”

His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aimlessly. His lips press feverish kisses to your ankles, your calves, your inner thighs, and eventually, the mound of your pussy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers into your heat, hiking your legs up and over his shoulders and he pulls your sex closer to his mouth. “So damn worth it.”

A cry leaves you as his tongue delves in deep between your legs, his eyes slipping shut as he lets out an unabashed whimper into your sex. His grip on your thighs only tightens, keeping your legs spread apart as they threaten to press in on his head.

He wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t. He needed to have you in the way that he’s dreamt of for so long, in the way that he’s thought of time and time again as he fucked his own fist to the thought of you. It was filthy, it was lewd, but it was honest.

You tasted better than he could have ever imagined, his tongue eagerly lapping at your inner walls before his lips sealed around your puffy clit, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off the plush mattress.

The stimulation is leaving you feeling overwhelmed, your hands pushing into his hair as your trembling thighs test the strength of his grip. You whine, eyes slipping shut as your head tilts back against the pillows.

“It— it’s too much—”

“Be good,” he finds himself saying, pulling you right back to his mouth as he continues to feast on your pussy like a man starved. “You can take it, baby.” Caleb cracks open his eyes, sucking harshly onto your clit before releasing it with a wet pop. “Go on, pretty girl. Say it.”

You whine, though you hardly have the brain power to say anything else apart from what he’s asked of you. “I… I can take it,” you breathe.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your sensitive pearl before nipping at it. “There you go.”

It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble once more, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, a final resort for reprieve as he works you over the edge.

Caleb redoubled his efforts, spreading your thighs even wider. Soon, the warmth pooling in your lower stomach was far too much to bear, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.

“I’m… I’m coming,” you gasp out, hands gripping tightly onto his dark locks of hair.

And when you do, his flattened tongue laps at your honeyed release. He works you through your high, his movements eventually slowing down as the twitching of your hips gradually calms.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop, pressing soft kisses to your swollen clit. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, pressing another peck on your mound before he moves back up your body once more to slot his lips against yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only spurs you on further. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders, and in one swift motion, you flip him onto his back. Caleb looks up at you with a starry-eyed expression, but when you straddle his hips and sit in his lap, he has no words of protest. None at all.

“You really are full of surprises,” he says, running his hands along the warm skin of your thighs.

Tugging him free from his boxers, he helps you remove them from his body, leaving you both entirely bare together. He sits up, his back pressing against the headboard as he tugs you closer to him.

“I need you,” he whispers, pressing a longing kiss on your stomach as you shift to straddle him once more. “Please, baby.”

You gaze down at him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Please what?”

He leans into your touch, his hands settling onto your waist as he pulls you lower, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. “Make yourself feel good. Please.”

Caleb’s own cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, both from the embarrassment that his own lack of experience brought upon him and the reality of finally having the love of his life in such an intimate way. His amethyst eyes search your face, as if searching for a permission that he didn’t know how to ask for.

Dipping your head, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Simultaneously, you swivel your hips until the tip of his length catches your entrance. You slowly lower yourself, feeling the way his cock stretches you out, filling you up in a way that only he can.

He smiles at you, cupping your cheek with his hand. Brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, he kisses you gently. “You feel so good,” he whimpers into your mouth, his other hand resting on your hip as you roll your hips in a way that has his breath hitching in his throat. “So fucking perfect.”

Your movements are timid at first, consisting of a slow and meticulous rocking of your hips. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing the deepest points of your inner walls with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.

Caleb’s hands grasped tightly onto your hips, helping you set a pace that had the both of you losing your mind. He leans backward, his head tilting against the headboard as it slams against the wall with each intense grind of your hips.

“Good girl, give it to me how you like it,” he breathes, eyes cracking open to watch the way you look down at him as you work yourself on his length. “Use me however you need me, baby, there you go.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him in for a longing kiss. “I… you— you feel so…” you stammer, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder as you lose yourself on his cock.

He nods his head in agreement, turning his head to press a kiss on your damp cheek as he gently pets your hair. “I know, I know.”

You lose yourself all together, your legs shaking as you tighten your hold on him. “Caleb!” you moan.

His hips help you the rest of the way, his grip on your hips keeping you firmly planted as he meets your movements with thrusts of his own. “I know it, baby, I’ve got you,” he pants through a smile, guiding you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Atta girl, use those hips.”

His arms wrap around you entirely, crushing you against the hard planes of his chest as you slowly ride the both of you through your shared orgasm. In that moment, in your house, in this space that belonged to you and Caleb alone—the two of you became one.

Heavy breathing and hammering heartbeats is all that consumes the two of you for a long while, skin to skin with far too much bliss brewing in your chests for either of you to handle alone.

Huffing softly, Caleb runs a hand up your side. “You okay in there?” he asks, turning his head to pepper soft kisses along your cheek. “C’mon, I need some proof of life.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “Shut up, give me a second.”

He merely smiles, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he tucks your head beneath his chin. Thirty seconds after finishing and you’re already mean. “There’s my girl.”

Caleb’s hands smooth over the soft planes of your back, giving your hips a soft squeeze as he revels in the feeling of your heartbeat drumming against his own. He can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses on the top of your head, his arms opting to wrap even tighter around you.

“I love—” he cuts himself off, eyes widening dazedly. Would that be too much? A confession of his undying love not long after ruining your date and making love with you for the first time? After a stretch of awkward silence, he kisses your head once more. “I love… cuddling with you. You’re so soft.”

You smile, nuzzling even closer to his chest, your nose brushing against skin. “Mm, I love you too, Caleb.”

His eyes widened, though he knows that communicating his confusion is futile. You knew him so well, too well.

“You do?” he whispers, turning his head just enough to look down at you.

In response to that, you nod. “Mm-hmm. I’ll love you even more if you tell me that you didn’t cancel those dinner reservations.”

Caleb smiles, running a hand over your hair. As if he’d given up his last ditch effort to take you out. “You know I didn’t.”

𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. rip zayne i still love you king!!! also i actually don’t really know how to write for caleb… so… i hope this didn’t suck! this is the only fic that managed to break my intense writer’s block that i’ve had for the past two months. reblog/comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate you reading so much <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[lyricwritesprose]

At first, I really did think it was just because Landon had been struck by lightning. That was where I found him, you see—in the middle of Bryley's Woods, in a clearing, where it sure looked like lightning had struck and set things on fire. I am still not sure why he called me for help, considering that I have all the reasons in the world to tell him where to get off—except I'm increasingly thinking it might be because my name is Aashvonne (blame my Mom) and that puts me at the very top of his contact list.

The thing is, Landon was not a good guy. And I'm not just talking about all the things he put me through, I'm talking about everyone. Pretty much everyone knew that if you loaned Landon money you'd never see it again, that if he gave his word on something he'd have gone back on it by sundown and accuse you of lying about it, and the less said about his string of relationships the better. But the few anecdotes I've heard about being struck by lightning, there are sometimes personality changes or at least a renewed perspective on life, so I wasn't that surprised to find him unusually quiet rather than raucous and overly friendly. I tried to talk him into going to a doctor, but I wasn't going to try to wrestle with him about it.

We live in the same apartment complex, though, so Landon was there when we dug the stray kitten out of the dumpster—in fact, he did a lot of the digging, which shocked the hell out of me. Landon, willingly making himself dirty when someone else could be bothered into doing the work for him? We brought the poor little thing into Landon's apartment (which was astonishingly clean considering that he was between girlfriends) and drew a bath. The kitten let out a long drawn out wail.

Landon startled me by making the exact same sound back at him.

I have to admit, I jumped slightly. People meow back at cats, but they usually don't meow like cats. Not to that extent. "I think that means he's unhappy," Landon added.

"He's covered in shit," I said, "literally. Here, I think I've got the water right, hand him over." I looked at the kitten. "Also I think he may be a she. Ginger and white, that's a female pattern, isn't it?"

"You're the expert on cats, Vonnie," Landon said. The kitten made another protest as I put her into the warm water and tried a gentle scrub. Landon repeated that one, too, with just as uncanny a degree of mimicry. "Sorry, I'll stop. I don't think there's a huge amount of meaning in it anyway. Just, 'unhappy, unhappy, knock it off.'"

"You are going to be much happier if you're clean, dingus," I told the kitten. She was deeply unimpressed.

After that—and after Landon, who had always said he disliked cats, adopted Her Ladyship Dingus Creamsicle Loudly Von Dumpster, I started paying a little more attention.

Landon had a magnificent ability to make it through a conversation with someone without much information on where he knew them from, or indeed, in many cases, their name. I probably wouldn't have noticed except that I'm so bad with names and faces that I had to pick up a few tricks. He was using them all.

He was also using, I don't know, slightly lawyerly language. He'd hedge his bets rather than outright promising something. Which, on the bright side, meant less extravagant promises, so it wasn't a bad thing, just—different.

And he wasn't going out at night. Like. Virtually at all. From a guy who used to be all about clubs and parties, that was actually a pretty big change.

There had been a few strange things happening around town, for sure—the weirdest, and also closest to the apartments, being a couple of cops being chased away by "ball lightning" when they had been threatening a Deaf Black kid for not immediately complying—but I had no reason to connect any of that stuff to Landon. Until I came down with flu. (And yes, I got the shot, but that happened to a lot of people last winter; sometimes an unexpected strain wins, for whatever reason.) Sick as a dog, fragile-feeling as a horse—Landon was the last person I would have asked for help before, but then, he was a bit different now.

And he was lovely to me. Fed me soup, brought me my toothbrush at my bedside, all sorts of caretaking stuff. I wasn't even thinking of the changes in him until I was ready to go to sleep that night, and he said, "Good night, Vonnie," and turned off the light—

And I saw that his eyes were glowing emerald green. Not like a cat's eyes. Could have sworn these were lit up from within.

There was a frozen moment. I think we were both wondering what he would do to preserve the secret. Personally, I was also thinking about the ball lightning those cops encountered. They'd said it was green, not green-tinted, but a deep, saturated color. Like this.

"Is." I swallowed. "Is there anything else you want me to call you? You know. Like a nickname."

"It's just Landon." Landon sounded a bit unsteady, as if I'd scared the shit out of him too, by seeing.

"Okay. I'm cool with that."

"There—wasn't much left of the old Landon. When I got there. But he did want to do better, to be better—to have a second chance, I guess. Which is why…" He trailed off. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to figure that out myself," I said. Fuck of an emotional brick to hit someone with, but I suppose it was emotional bricks all the way down. "Landon? Thanks for coming over. With the soup."

I couldn't quite tell from the light in the hallway, or the glow from his eyes, but I think he smiled and relaxed a little bit. "Anytime I can."

Your “friend” has been replaced by a doppelgänger. You aren’t sure where it came from or what it is under the disguise. But you know one thing; you prefer it over the original.

[eobe]

Happy Valentine's Day to you all 🥰✨ARC trooper Echo CT-1409 is CT-1402 today and he's coming for you 😽 Get SHOT! 😎💘

Big shout-out to @lonewolflupe's wholesome Valentine's event 💘 Spread love, send messages, melt and drown in sugar, because you're the most loving and supportive community I've never dared to dream of 🥰

A close up, why it’s Echo, the targets and the inevitable ramble below the cut… 🏹

I always get grumpy and blushing when too much pink, glitter, candy and stuff, but deep inside I can't help myself and yield cuteness overload dopamining 🫠✨

ARC trooper Echo is on duty for this day and he won't do a job without the best and most badass gear! ✨😈 He even borrowed himself a winged sky trooper jetpack and Omega’s bow, but only because he can 😎✨ But Maker, he's allowed, he deserves and it's Echo! 💕

Have a closer look. I never did lighting like this before! 🤩 I don't know if it's accurate – I just thought and tried to imagine of how materials would reflect, how much and where and in which angle 🤯✨

I had fun and some frustration figuring his pose! First, he's with the jetpack, what to do with the legs?

Second, as I'm an archer myself, I wanted to give him a good archer posture, but he has a scomp too! +50 skill, +50 difficulty, +100 badassity. Good thing he can hook in this bow-ring of the Zygerrian design and I'm aware that there are many little inaccurate things to find, but I'm still a drawing Padawan, not a master 😂🫶

Third, angles. Can‘t tell what it is exactly. Something worm's eye view, little mortals on the ground looking up to sweet doom coming down from the aurora skies 🤩✨🧡❤️🩷💜✨

But I‘m actually a proud little drawing Padawan looking at this artwork at all 😱 Echo, you're worth the hours. Fandom, you even more. Get ECHOed, cuties 🫶 And everyone, who sees this! 💘

My headcanon, why it has to be Echo:

(Domino Squad at the Barracks)

Echo: No! NO, I don’t want to! Hevy: Vod, it HAS to be you! Echo: This just... isn’t fair! Droidbait: What‘s your problem, brother – I can’t do it, I‘d manage to get shot with this myself! Cutup: And besides that you‘re not as half as cute as Echo! Echo: (teeth gritted) hrrr… shutup cutup! Fives: Echo, they’re right AND you’re the only one around who has the number CT-140... Echo: (interrupting) YOU are the one who always echoes that were NOT our numbers, not me! Why don't YOU be named "Echo", huh? Fives: (handing Echo the Cupid bow, doing huge puppy eyes) Vod – yes, we‘re not numbers, but being Cupid CT-1402 is actually a good thing and... not matter any numbers, you're just the best of us all. 💕🏹 Cutup: … And you really can’t hand this Droidbait! All: Shut up, Cutup!

Targets, that volunteered 😎💘:

@eclec-tech – Writing owl twin, always having a spicy caf for me, managing to inspire me into colorful dimensions and owling with meee 🧡✨ @clonethirstingisreal – My warmhearted friend, always encouraging 🥰🫶 @vrycurious – One of my most supportive out of the box thinking moots 🤩🫶 Targets, that kind of volunteered 💞👀:

@returnofthepineapple – Sweet Piña 🍍🥰 'STOKED' hehe! @freesia-writes – Cute! 😻 Side eying too loud in the reblog 👀 @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf – Hot chick calling me bb 😽🌹💋 @523rdrebel – hehehe 😏 'can't wait' @littletroggo – Cute moot doing cute art and also ‘can't wait' 🥰✨ @cw80831 – Most proper tagging support! 🤩✨ Targets, that are locked in my crosshair 🤪💞✨:

@ghostymarni – Sweet vod 💗 Queen of Chaos, holding my beer 🍺💘 @wings-and-beskargam – Chaos twin vod 💙🫶🩵 endlessly patient and giving, lovely soul 💘 Targets, that won't get away 😎💘✨:

@lonewolflupe – Double tag, double target, double shot 🤩🏹💖💘 Get ECHOed thoroughly 😏💞🦾 Thank you for everything – you KNOW what I'm thanking you for and will never stop being thankful 🥰 🫠

@foxwithadarkside – no words needed but anyway 😎🏹✨ Muse, art collab witch, badass, quality talk, thank you 💘😽

General volunteering targets: @bixlasagna @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.5

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 wordcount: 2039

The Monaco paddock was a chaotic mess of media, team personnel, and VIPs swarming every corner. You were supposed to be here—dropping off something personally for Lando. It wasn’t just something, it was the Richard Mille x Louis Vuitton Monaco release watch. You were holding almost a million dollars in your hand. You walked through McLaren hospitality, everyone eyeing you eagerly. Lando had texted you he was in his driver’s room.

You walked in, the door clicking shut behind you.

Lando stood by the small counter, shirtless, toweling off his damp hair from the post-qualifying sweat. His race suit was tied low around his hips, the fireproofs clinging to his torso in a way that was frankly unfair.

His eyes flicked up when he noticed you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. “Special delivery for me, stylist?”

You huffed, trying to keep your gaze above his collarbones. “I have the watch.” You held up the box for emphasis. “I’ll leave now.”

Lando, predictably, didn’t move aside. He leaned back against the counter instead, arms crossing over his chest. “You in a rush?”

Yes.

Very much yes.

Because the way he was looking at you—like he was thinking about Monaco nights and zippers and everything you shouldn’t be doing right now—was making it very hard to breathe.

You tried for casual, gesturing toward the door. “People are around.”

He shrugged. “Door’s locked.”

“Lando.”

He grinned at your warning tone, like he enjoyed hearing his name in your voice a little too much. “Say it like that again, and we’ll have a real problem.”

Your stomach flipped. He was too close now, close enough that if you reached out, you could pull at the fireproofs, drag him forward. You weren’t going to. You were stronger than that.

But then his fingers brushed yours where you still held the box, and your resolve wavered.

His other hand grabbed your waist, pressing your back against the closed door behind you. A sharp inhale was all you managed before his mouth was on yours, urgent and claiming. His hands moved, tracing down your hips, gripping tight as he pressed into you, his body hot and solid against yours. His fireproofs did nothing to hide the way he was pressing into you, hard and wanting, his breath heavy against your skin as his lips trailed down your jaw.

A small sound escaped you when his hands slid lower, gripping your thighs, fingertips pressing possessively. He exhaled sharply against your neck. 

Then—three sharp knocks on the door.

“Lando, hurry up! Media’s waiting.”

Max. Of course.

You startled, stepping away quickly. Lando barely blinked, just exhaled sharply, muttering, “Fucking timing.”

You shot him a look. “Maybe don’t try to feel up your stylist in the middle of the paddock.”

He just smirked, grabbing a fresh shirt from the garment bag. “I wasn’t trying. If I was trying, you wouldn’t have left.”

You opened the door before you could react to that, nearly running into Max, who took one look at your flustered state, then at Lando’s smug expression, and sighed.

“Seriously?”

‘’Thanks for the watch, I’ll find a way to repay you another time’’ he smirked.

You didn’t stay to hear the rest.

That’s when the sneaking around officially started. You felt bad about it, to Flo, professionally. But you couldn’t stop. It was so easy. Fitting rooms, toilets, hotel rooms. It was an unspoken agreement. 

-

You were back in London after the Monaco chaos. The texts continued, you dreaded telling Flo, but you knew you had to.

You were supposed to catch up.

But you weren’t listening. Not really.

Flo was mid-sentence about a horse-riding competition, when she suddenly narrowed her eyes at you. “Okay,” she said, setting her cup down with a little too much force. “What’s up with you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She tilted her head. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird.”

“You’re stirring your coffee like it personally offended you.”

You glanced down at the spoon in your hand, realizing you’d been absentmindedly spinning it in circles for the last five minutes. You dropped it with a sigh.

Flo’s gaze sharpened. “Oh, God. It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

Your silence was all the confirmation she needed. She leaned forward, eyes lighting up with interest. “Wait. Who? Do I know him?”

You hesitated, then exhaled sharply, looking away. “Flo… I’m so sorry, I don’t know how to say it so I’m just going to say it. It’s... Lando.”

A beat of silence. Then—

Flo burst out laughing.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I hate you.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” she wheezed, trying and failing to hold it together. “It’s just—you hated him.”

“I did not hate him,” you muttered.

Flo gave you a look. “When you were at Quadrant, you once said, and I quote, ‘If I have to hear him interfere about the designs one more time, I will throw myself into oncoming traffic.’”

You winced. “Okay, fine. But it was different working together at LV, things changed.”

Flo smirked, taking a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, I’ll bet they did.”

You sighed, tapping your fingers against the table. “I really hope you’re not mad. It’s nothing... serious. Just something casual..”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it. It’s just—fun. That’s all.”

Flo raised an eyebrow. “Does he know that?”

You hesitated for a second too long, glaring at her. You weren’t worried about a famous F1 driver, but for her, of course it was still her brother. 

Flo’s smirk faded slightly. “Oh, babe.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “No, don’t ‘oh, babe’ me. It’s fine. We’re clearly just messing around. It’s not a thing.”

Flo watched you carefully, like she was picking apart every single word. “Okay.. As long as I don’t have to hear any details about it and I’m still your favorite Norris”

You could finally let out a laugh. ‘’You will always be my favorite Norris’’

‘’Thought F1 wasn’t really your scene’’ she want back to teasing. ‘’Who would’ve thought’’

You buried your face in your arms on the table. ‘’Wouldn’t it have been better to go for Lewis?’’ she continued jokingly when you didn’t reply. 

-

You were working in the London LV office when you got a text. 

Lando: I’m in London. What are you doing?

You frowned at your phone, the message popping up between work emails. He wasn’t at a race weekend, so he was either back in Monaco or in London.

You: Working. Why?

Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then came back.

Lando: Doesn’t your work involve me?

You rolled your eyes.

Before you could tell him off, another text came through.

Lando: I’ll come help you with that.

Your stomach did an involuntary flip, even though you knew you should have expected this by now.

You: You don’t even know where I am.

Lando: I do, actually. Showroom, right?

You didn’t reply.

Lando: See you soon :)

And just like that, you knew you wouldn’t be getting any more work done.

He arrived half an hour later, strolling into the showroom like he belonged there.

You gave him an unimpressed look from your seat behind your laptop. “I knew I should’ve turned off my location sharing after Monaco.”

Lando just grinned. “Too late.” He plopped into the seat across from you, looking far too comfortable. “So, what’s up?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m working”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

You exhaled sharply. “Why are you here?”

Lando hesitated, then smirked. “I was in London and wanted to see you. Shouldn’t we go to your place? I still haven’t seen your apartment.”

You raised a brow. “And?”

“And that’s kind of weird, don’t you think?” He tilted his head. “I mean, you’ve seen my place. Seems unfair.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s because you live in Monaco, and I don’t.”

“Still. I think it’s my turn.”

You scoffed. “Why do you even care?”

Lando shrugged, like it didn’t matter. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. “Maybe I just wanna know where you go when you’re not with me.”

That statement alone made you pause for half a second too long.

Lando didn’t push, just watched you carefully as you exhaled and shut your laptop. “Fine. But only because I need to leave soon anyway.”

“Perfect.” He grinned, standing up. “Lead the way.”

-

Lando followed you into your building like he’d done it a hundred times before, hands in his pockets, an easy smirk on his face.

You, on the other hand, were suddenly hyperaware of everything—of the way your apartment probably wasn’t as put-together as the places he was used to, and how you had left it behind. 

You pushed the thought away as you unlocked the door. “It’s small, so don’t be judgy.”

Lando stepped in first, looking around. “You’re acting like I live in a palace.”

“You do.”

“Okay, fair.” He walked further in, turning in a slow circle as he took everything in. “This is really nice, though.”

You shut the door, crossing your arms. “You sound surprised.”

Lando grinned, plopping onto your couch without hesitation. “I just thought maybe you were hiding something.”

You sighed, dropping your bag. “Yeah, my massive collection of Lando Norris merch.”

“I knew it.” He stretched out, getting comfortable. “So where’s my shrine?”

You rolled your eyes, heading into the kitchen. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“Sure. What are my options?”

You opened the fridge. “Water, juice, or the wine I was saving for a night that doesn’t involve you.”

Lando grinned. “I’ll take the wine.”

You huffed but grabbed the bottle anyway, bringing it over with two glasses. Lando took one, watching you as you sat down beside him.

There was a moment of quiet as he sipped, eyes still trailing over your space.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just… feels kinda nice.”

You frowned. “My apartment?”

Lando hummed. “Yeah. Feels like you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just took a sip of your wine, letting the warmth settle.

Lando turned to you fully, propping his elbow against the back of the couch. “So, do I get the tour?”

You laughed. “Lando, there’s like two rooms.”

“Yeah, and I wanna see them.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Come on.”

You rolled your eyes but stood up anyway, leading him toward your bedroom. 

Lando grinned as he stepped in, scanning the space. His gaze landed on your nightstand, where a book was sitting, spine cracked. He picked it up, raising a brow. “Didn’t take you for the romance novel type.”

You snatched it back. “It’s not a romance novel.”

“No judgment.” He held up his hands, still smiling. “Just getting to know you better.”

You scoffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

Then, as you moved to set the book down, you felt his hands brush your waist, casual and unhurried.

Your breath caught.

Lando leaned in, voice low. “So, how long do I have before you kick me out?”

You swallowed. “That depends.”

He smirked “On?”

“On if you’re actually just here for a tour.”

Lando hummed, fingers grazing your hip. “I think we both know I’m not.”

Your heart pounded as you turned to face him, eyes locking.

Lando leaned in, slow and deliberate. “So?”

You exhaled. Then reached for him first.

The moment your lips met, his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth moved against yours, slow at first, teasing, before his grip firmed, deepening the kiss. You felt the warmth of his palms slide beneath your top, fingertips skimming over your lower back. His hands exploring, slipping under fabric, teasing. His fingers curled at your waist, urging you backward step by step until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Lando’s lips found yours again as he guided you down, his weight settling over you in a way that sent a thrill through your spine. His hands roamed, his touch slow but deliberate, exploring like he had all the time in the world.

“You still gonna kick me out?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement against your lips.

You answered by pulling him closer, fingers tangled in his hair, his quiet laugh dissolving into another heated kiss as he pressed you deeper into the sheets.

WN: hahah the whole story seems just them hooking up now, but dont worry mwahahha, love the black suits and testing livery, this new picture in the fireproofs goes perfect with this chapter, pure coincidence because I had already written this. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think!!

tl: @freyathehuntress @linnygirl09 @sarx164 @joannaln4 @widow-cevans @444-leqz @laneyspaulding19 @mayax2o07@n3versatisfied @anayaverse @tvdtw4ever

[babybearnation]

Kimi Oscar and Lando (separately) with soulmate!reader?

i picked different soulmate AUs for each driver since you didn't pick a specific trope - i hope thats okay! also you didn't specify which kimi so i'm doing both :D

gn!reader (soulmate aus)

kimi antonelli - your soulmate can't hear your voice:

ollie had been hyping you up to kimi for months, showing him pictures of you and telling him about all your wonderful traits and habits

its safe to say, kimi was in love with you and he was totally ready to meet you - and soon enough, he would! ollie was bringing you to the first grand prix of the 2025 formula 1 season!

you two meet up via ollie and kimi opens his mouth and greets you and... your eyebrows furrow. you can't hear him and when you talk to ollie, he realises he can't hear you

ollie soon realises what is going on and he laughs, before jokingly offering himself as messenger for you two - you and kimi agree but both of you are eagerly awaiting the time when you can finally hear each other

it takes a couple of weeks of back and forth texting & calling, and many plane journeys, for you both but eventually kimi works up the courage to ask ollie to ask you if kimi can kiss you

you say yes, he kisses you really sweetly on the plane to japan, and finally, finally, he can hear your sweet, sweet voice that he has oft dreamed about

kimi raikkonen - time freezes when you're in the same place as your soulmate and resumes when you make eye contact:

kimi was too focused on his racing to particularly care all too much about his soulmate - he'd meet em when he meets them

you're a relatively new formula 1 fan and you'd been given not just race tickets but also a paddock pass, allowing you to get up close and personal with the cars

you excitedly enter the paddock, ready to have your fun... and every single thing freezes around you - you panic and start running through the paddock, yelling the word help over and over, trying to find someone who wasn't frozen

kimi, on the other hand, was chilling in his garage when everything went still and he wasn't sure what to do until he heard your yelling and realised someone else was unfrozen

he rushes out to meet you and the second you make eye contact, everything unfreezes and the two of you quickly connect the dots - you're soulmates

kimi crosses over and smiles shyly at you, and the pair of you introduce yourselves to each other, setting up the beginning of a beautiful relationship

oscar piastri - you have a watch with your soulmate's time on it that beeps when you meet them:

oscar couldn't help but feel bad every time he looked down at his soulmate watch and saw that your timezone never changed - after all, his changed all the time and surely that must've been annoying

seeing your soulmate's timezone change all the time left you quite confused but you figured he was either very wealthy, travelled for his job, or both - plus you loved to figure out where he was each time it changed

its when you both notice that you're in the same timezone for the first time that you feel excited but you're not sure what to do now that you've noticed this - you have no other clues

you both decide to go out one night for a walk, not even thinking you'd meet the other but knowing that if you did, the watches would beep

so when you bump into someone and turn to apologise, the rapid and loud beeping that comes from both of your watches startle you until you, in sync, click the buttons to silence them

you look up and meet his warm brown eyes and smile, sticking your hand out to shake his, promptly making both of you the happiest you've ever been

lando norris - you have your soulmate's name on your wrist:

lando wasn't ashamed of his soulmate mark, not at all, but he did keep it covered up during the f1 season to avoid any potential weird fans using it against him

you, however, were perpetually shocked and awed by the name on your arm turning out to be your favourite formula 1 driver but you were also afraid because... how would you ever tell him that in a way that wouldn't paint you as an obsessive, stalkerish fan?

and then you get a paddock pass and are free to roam about wherever you please - you don't even think about covering your arm until a member of mclaren staff asks to see your id because he saw the name on your wrist

you show him it and, before long, you are being taken by the staff member to go and meet lando, your favourite formula 1 driver, your soulmate

lando wasn't sure what to do when a member of mclaren staff told him that his soulmate had been found, innocently wandering in the paddock with his name on their arm, completely uncovered

but when the two of you meet, lando can tell it's serious - the damn near instant connection to and draw towards each other tells you as much

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[bootmilk]

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . diluc’s name. smut . sheノher — x reader ノ punishment . brat taming . glove kink ノ ass slapping ノ orgasm control . degradationノ blocking minors and blank or ageless blogs…

Diluc had told you—warned you—not to call him that.

And yet, you kept doing it.

At first, it was innocent—shy, polite, the way you always murmured “Yes, sir” whenever he gave you a simple request, your eyes downcast, voice barely above a whisper. He had corrected you gently the first time.

“Just Diluc is fine.”

But you never stopped.

And worse? It was getting more deliberate. The way you’d bite your lip before saying it, the way your breath hitched, the way your fingers fidgeted with your skirt when you whispered it like you knew what it did to him.

Like you knew the way it made his cock throb in his trousers.

So now? Now, he had you pinned—your soft, pliant body bent over the grand mahogany desk in the Dawn Winery’s office, your wrists bound behind your back with his own cravat, your breath hitching with every slow, teasing drag of his gloved fingers over your trembling thighs.

“You really don’t listen, do you?” Diluc’s voice was low, controlled, but there was a dangerous edge to it, heat coiling beneath every syllable.

You swallowed hard, squirming slightly, your hips shifting as if trying to escape the weight of his presence behind you. “I—”

A sharp smack landed on your ass, his gloved palm striking against the soft flesh, making you yelp.

“Ah-ah,” he murmured, his voice deceptively calm. “Answer me properly.”

You shivered, your breath catching in your throat, your fingers curling helplessly behind your back. “…N-No, sir—”

Smack.

“Tch.” Diluc clicked his tongue, his other hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, keeping you firmly in place. “There you go again.”

You whimpered, your thighs trembling, heat pooling in your stomach as your mind swam with the discipline in his voice, the way his fingers dug into your waist, his grip unrelenting.

“You just like pushing me, don’t you?” he mused, his voice thick with something dark, something possessive. “You know how much I hate being called that, and yet…”

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, his tone dropping into something low, gravelly.

“It makes my cock hard every time you say it.”

Your entire body shuddered, a soft, breathy moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

Diluc chuckled—a low, dangerous sound.

“I should ruin you for it,” he murmured, his gloved fingers sliding lower, pressing right against your soaked, aching core. “Should fuck you so hard you forget how to speak at all.”

His fingers teased you, featherlight strokes against your slick folds, his other hand gripping your waist tighter, controlling every tiny movement you made.

“And yet,” he sighed, almost disappointed, “you’d still find a way to moan it, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded frantically, your thighs squeezing together, your voice breathless, needy, utterly wrecked. “Y-Yes, sir—”

Smack.

This time, when his hand landed, it wasn’t just punishment. It was a promise.

His grip on your throat tightened just slightly, his gloved fingers pressing against your pulse, feeling the way your heartbeat raced under his touch. “Count,” he commanded, his voice sharp, low, his cock pressing hard against your soaked entrance, teasing, taunting.

Your breath hitched, your entire body shuddering in anticipation. “W-What?”

Diluc snarled.

“Count how many times I make you cum,” he growled, his patience wearing thin, his hips rolling against you, coating his cock in your slick without giving you the relief you desperately needed. “Maybe if you hit ten, I’ll consider stopping.”

Your eyes widened, a shuddering whimper slipping past your lips. “T-Ten?”

A dark, amused chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Maybe more, if you’re good.”

And then, without another word, he thrust.

You screamed, your wrists jerking in the silken restraints as his thick cock split you open, stretching you perfectly, hitting so fucking deep on the first stroke that your knees nearly buckled beneath you.

“That’s one,” Diluc murmured, his tone darkly amused, as if he knew you were already gone, already trembling, already losing yourself completely in the way he filled you, ruined you.

Your mouth hung open, panting, your fingers curling into helpless fists behind your back as he set the pace, his thrusts brutal, his hips snapping against yours with enough force to make the heavy oak desk beneath you creak.

“F-Fuck—Diluc—”

Smack.

His palm landed on your ass again, hard, his cock twitching inside you at the way your walls fluttered around him. “Try again,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear, his pace never faltering.

“S-Sir—” you sobbed, unable to help yourself, your back arching, your body tightening around him as your vision blurred with pleasure.

Diluc grunted, his gloved fingers digging into your waist, his cock slamming deep, deep, each thrust making your entire body shake. “That’s two,” he murmured, his tone all sharp arrogance, all dominance, his pace unrelenting. “At this rate, you’ll be begging for more before we even reach five.”

You whimpered, your thighs trembling, your mind slipping into a haze of pure, raw pleasure. Your body was already soaked, your slick dripping down your thighs, pooling between your legs, making every deep, filthy thrust even louder, messier.

Diluc groaned, his jaw clenching, his pace never slowing, his breathing turning rougher, harder, his cock throbbing inside you as he felt you tense again—your walls squeezing tight, your legs twitching as you were pushed to the edge again.

“That’s three,” he muttered, his voice thick with something dangerous, something possessive, as he rolled his hips, hitting that spot that made you cry out, your body convulsing, completely helpless in his grip.

You didn’t know how much time passed, how many times he forced you to cum—each orgasm wracking through you like a violent storm, each thrust shoving you further into a pleasure-drunk haze—but by the time your mind even registered his voice again, he was still going, his gloved fingers forcing your head back, making you look at him.

“How many?” he growled, his sharp crimson eyes burning, his breath ragged, his cock still pounding into you, stretching you wide, filling you completely. “Tell me, brat—how many times have I made you cum?”

You sobbed, your vision blurry, your entire body wrecked, barely able to speak. “I—I lost count—”

Diluc smirked, his expression dark, satisfied.

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers trailing up your throat, his thumb pressing against your parted lips, making you suck in a shaky, broken breath. “Then maybe next time, you’ll listen when I tell you to stop calling me that.”

His cock slammed into you one last time, his body tensing against yours as he groaned, his voice rough, deep, his grip crushing as he finally, finally spilled inside you, filling you completely, his entire body shuddering from the force of it.

The room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breathing, the slow, lazy drag of his fingers over your trembling thighs, soothing you, grounding you.

And then, after a long, slow pause, as you lay there—completely spent, your body still twitching from the aftershocks—you let out one last, tiny, breathless whisper.

“T-Thank you, sir…”

Diluc sighed.

And spanked you again.

[sinofwriting]

Valentine - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 956 Summary: The first time Logan asks Pan to be his valentine. (Part of the I ♥️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place before the original I ❤️ MILFS fic in 2009. Logan is 6, Pan is 16.

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

She watches as Logan carefully writes all of his classmates' names on the Valentine's Day cards. Or rather small mailbox style tins. She might have gone a bit overboard for his first Valentine's Day. But he saw them and she couldn’t resist buying them and letting him pick out a whole host of candy and stickers.

“Momma, help?” He holds up an opened bag of candy and she easily plucks it out of his hands.

“This is the last one we are opening.” She warns. “We’ve already got two bags open.”

He nods. “I want to give them candy hearts too!”

She glances down at the bag as she hands it back to him and sighs. She really was going to have to apologize to his teacher in her email. She had already not wanted Logan to give everyone four pieces of candy and now they were getting five. End of the year, she’ll give her a gift card. She seemed to drink a lot of Starbucks if Logan was to be trusted.

She listens to him spell out his classmates names, counting the candy, putting a sticker or two depending on the classmate in the tin as she looks over her calculus homework. She managed to finish it in the parking lot while waiting to get Logan today, but something is itching at her for question number three.

As he starts to close the tins, she realizes what she was missing, a small sigh leaving her, because since they had started this unit, this was the third time she had made this mistake. But at least this time she caught it before handing it in.

“All done?” She asks as she puts her homework in her backpack and seeing Logan try and take a piece of candy, all the tins shut.

“Uh huh!”

“You can have some candy after dinner, which lets get that started okay?” And she easily picks him up and puts him on her hip as she walks to the kitchen.

—

She’s been doing this since August, but she’s still not used to the looks she gets at student pick up waiting to get Logan. Her purse over her shoulder, keys in her hands, as she eagerly waits for the bell to ring. She already knew Logan was going to be excited because it was Friday, but he had also hopefully been given lots of candy which meant he’d be more hopped up than ever. She could only hope that the trip to the park before they went out to dinner would settle his energy a bit.

The bell rings and she breathes a sigh of relief, the doors opening and out comes the kindergarteners, their hands all attached together, backpacks stuffed more than usual. Her smile widens seeing Logan’s teacher and then Logan, directly in front and squirming as he sees her, wanting to let go of his teachers hand, but he waits and she crouches down as soon as he and the rest of his class is down the small steps and his teacher easily lets go of his hand and he’s running to her.

She easily catches him, breath slightly getting knocked out of her, but she clutches him tight.

“Momma! I got so many valentines!”

“Oh really?” She laughs, kissing his head. “How many?”

“So many!”

She laughs again, standing and when he doesn’t let go, his arms around her neck nearly a chokehold, she arranges him to be on her hip. “Did you wish Ms. Patters a good weekend?”

He shakes his head and then he’s waving at his teacher, just a few feet away as she watches all of her students go to their parents or whoever is picking them up. “Have a good weekend Ms. Patters!”

“You too, Logan! I’ll see you, Monday!”

He beams at his teacher and he’s pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. “Are we still going to park?”

“Yes, Lo. We are still going to the park.” She laughs, beginning the walk back to her car.

“And then out to dinner?”

“Yes, then out to dinner.”

He presses another kiss to her cheek, feet kicking a bit in excitement.

—

Logan thankfully runs off his excess energy at the park and somehow manages to not get any dirt on his clothes. His hands are a little gross and he somehow has dirt under his eye, but he sits still for her as she takes a wet wipe to his face before directing him to the sink for kids in the park bathroom.

“You want to wear these to dinner? Or change into your spares?” She asks, tugging at his shirt.

He looks down at it with a frown. “I want to keep my dinosaurs.”

“Alright then, let’s go get dinner.” She smiles at him, ruffling his hair.

The drive to the diner they like is short and she’s surprised to see him patiently waiting for her to unbuckle him, backpack on his lap.

“You want to bring your backpack with you?”

He nods.

“Alright, but no sneaking candy, okay? You’ve been so good this week, that I’m letting you get a milkshake.”

He makes an excited sort of squeal, feet kicking and she’s quick to unbuckle him before he gets to rowdy.

She expects him to immediately ask to be let out, but instead he’s unzipping his backpack.

“Momma.”

“What’s up, Lo?” She asks, bending a little to look at him better.

“Will you be my valentine?” And he’s pressing a homemade card against her chest.

Her eyes well with tears, hand coming up to catch the card before it can fall and she smiles at the shaky drawings but neat lines of ‘Momma’. “Of course, I’ll be your valentine, baby.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

And Action!

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Movie Star!Bucky x Journalist!Reader fic.

Summary: The chemistry between you, a journalist, and Bucky, a movie star, is undeniable. After dancing around each other for the past year, Bucky’s ready for the game to end.

“Y/N!” your break out into a wide grin as Bucky exclaims your name. He approaches you with a big smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

You’ve been waiting with the other journalists along the red carpet, chatting with the cast and crew of the new movie The Queen’s Shadow.

The main stars are Yelena Belova and Bucky Barnes. You’d just finished interviewing Yelena and now Bucky is headed your way.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s good to see you again!”

He chuckles, “You as well and,” he turns to his assistant and accepts the thermos, “Hot chocolate like I promised.”

You can’t help but cackle, “I was hoping you’d remember.”

He shrugs, a grin on his lips, “Of course. I promised you, didn’t I?”

You take a moment to open the thermos and take a little sip of the beverage. Your body instantly warms from the hot drink but as well as the sweet comforting taste of the chocolate, “You were right. You make a mean hot chocolate.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Bucky responds with a chuckle.

You then set the thermos to the side, “Okay. So congrats on the movie. Everyone’s prayers have been answered because you’ve finally gone back to your roots being in rom-coms. How does it feel?”

“So fun. Don’t get me wrong. The action movies I’ve done recently are fun too, but rom-coms are a different kind of fun. I can be a little goofy, be a complete dork while also be charming-“

“Basically be more of yourself?” You ask with a smirk.

He snorts, “Yes! Basically! And to work alongside Yelena, who’s, ya know, one of my best friend’s sister, was really a treat because this is her big debut. I was able to watch and guide her. Even though sometimes we’d get into arguments here and there because we’re like siblings. But yeah, it was fun.”

“Was it a little weird to play love interests since you two are like siblings?”

“At first, yeah. But we discussed it and, ya know, this is our job as actors. Whatever our personal relationship is, it doesn’t matter when we’re on set. We’ve got a job to do so we went and did it.”

“Did Nat threaten you at all when she heard you and Yelena would be working with each other?”

Bucky scoffs, “Of course, Nat did. But I get it. She’s just protective of her sister. I’m like that with my sister so I can’t fault her for that.”

You nod in understanding. You always enjoyed talking with Bucky because conversations with him were so easy and he was always so passionate about the projects he’s worked on.

“Alright, now for the hard hitting question.”

Bucky nods and rubs his hands together, “Okay, watcha got for me?”

You take a deep breath and lean closer, “Who would win in a fight: Mason Rhodes or Jayce Ryder?” Mason Rhodes is his character in The Queen’s Shadow and Jayce Ryder is his character in his previous action movie franchise.

Bucky chuckles, “Oh that’s a hard one…probably Mason.”

“Really?” You ask him in surprise.

He shrugs, “Well not to spoil too much, Mason was trained to fight and know how to protect the Queen. Jayce, while he does know how to fight, he’s self-trained and a little sloppy. Kinda fights more with his heart while Mason fights with his brain, you know?”

You nod, “Makes sense!” You see Bucky’s assistant pull on his sleeve to let him know he needs to move on, “Well, I’ll let you continue down the line. It was great speaking with you! And thanks again for the hot chocolate!”

“Of course! It was great seeing you. See you next time!” He gives you a wink and a wave and follows where his publicist guides him next.

—————-

Not many journalists are invited to after parties. However, your friend, Joaquin, a PA who worked on the film, invited you as his plus one.

You’re chatting with him by the hors d’oeuvres table when Bucky approaches, “Hi,” he’s a little more shy this time. He turns to Joaquin, giving him a nod, “Torres.”

“Bucky,” Joaquin says with a big smile, “Movie was great, man!”

“Oh, thanks! Yeah, it-it was fun.” Bucky looks back at you, “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, “Your performance was great, but I enjoyed Yelena’s a little bit more.”

He chuckles, “I understand. She was amazing.”

“Oh! I see Sam. I’ll be right back!” Joaquin excused himself to talk to the other actor.

Bucky clears his throat, “So, uh, you drink all the hot chocolate?”

You shake your head, “It’s in my car. Saving the rest for later. But did you really come here to talk to me about hot chocolate, Bucky?” You ask with a smirk.

You and Bucky have been dancing around each other for the past year. You’ve worked with him a lot over the last few years but it wasn’t until recently that your interviews with him started getting a little more playful and flirty.

Sometimes it was you that really upped the playful, flirty vibes. Other times, it was Bucky. Neither of you were put off by it. It was all in good fun and definitely gave Bucky a lot of publicity.

“Not really. I actually wanted to ask if you were tired.”

Your brows furrow and your head tilts to side in confusion, “Tired?”

“Of this game we’ve been doing lately?” That shy demeanor is replaced with that teasing, playfulness you’ve encountered before.

“I don’t know, Barnes. Are you?”

“I am.”

“So,” you step closer to him, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Bucky glances at your lips and then licks his own, “Well, I was thinking we can finally exchange numbers and I take you on a date.”

“That right? Where do you plan to take me?”

“I have a place in mind.”

You pout, “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“You’ll find out if you say yes.”

You sigh, “You really wanna date me? I’m a journalist. I could spill all your dirty secrets.”

He cocks a brow at you, “That what you plan to do?”

You scoff, “Fuck no. I’d never.”

“And that’s why I wanna date you, among other things.”

“Tell me,” you step even closer to him.

He smirks, “I will,” he leans in, lips hovering over yours, “on our date.”

He steps back and you realize your phone is now in his hands, “Hey!” You exclaim with a laugh, and he laughs with you.

“I may have learned a thing or two from my action movies,” he hands you your phone so you can unlock it. You hand it back to him when you do and he inputs his number.

He hands you his own phone and you enter in your number.

“I’ll be busy this week for premiere stuff but afterwards, I have some down time before I start my next project. I’ll call you when I’m free to hash out the details?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Perfect. I gotta continue making my rounds, but enjoy the rest of your night,” he leaves you again with another wink and a fluttering in your chest.

[hex800020]

Non-negotiable HCs I have (Dick edition):

He cracks his knuckles—a bad habit he does constantly, but even more when he’s nervous or frustrated over something he can’t control.

-•-

He has ADHD, but instead of hyperactivity (ADHD), he has impulsivity (ADD-I), which means he often doesn’t know how to process his frustration, makes bad decisions in the moment, and sometimes doesn’t fully remember what happened.

He works on it in therapy because “I’m not stupid enough to follow B’s footsteps.”

(At least not with this)

-•-

He’s a little shit

-•-

Whenever Jason brings up his “vengeful emo phase,” Dick just looks at him like he’s crazy and brushes it off entirely.

Nobody in the Batfam believes Jason when he talks about angry, brooding, isolating Dick—the real Angry Robin™…

Well, except B, Alfred, and Tim, who did witness it firsthand but refuse to back Jason up.

So he’s left muttering “traitors” under his breath

-•-

Legally, Dick only pays for and technically owns a Netflix account.

He steals access to all the other streaming platforms from the Manor (which Bruce pays for)

Every time one of his siblings changes the password, he “sneaks in” to get it back

-•-

He actually has a really broad taste in music (literally listens to everything—metal, pop, opera, reggae, you name it)

He’s the one who introduced music into the family, and all of his siblings picked up pieces of his taste that suited them best… but yeah.

-•-

His hair is definitely a 2C texture, jet black, and I’m 100% sure he takes care of it and has both a quick and a full hair routine.

-•-

I like to believe he’s still taller than Jason (yes, I’m ignoring every official source, and what about it?).

-•-

He watches Adventure Time while doing stuff.

-•-

He’s the messiest of all the Bats (and Tim is right behind him)

-•-

He eats breakfast twice

-•-

He likes Brooklyn 99

-•-

When he laughs really hard, he claps.

-•-

He knows that Steph and Tim dated for a while and that now they’re siblings (which is so weird, by the way).

But whenever he sees them interact, he can’t help but think they act like twins.

(Just in the way they interact—visually, they barely pass as distant cousins, at best.)

[Yeahhh, Bruce’s HCs got stuck… no idea why.]

<< Part 5 | Part 6

@crazycaoticsimp

[jazzy96scorpio]

Hii could you please write something? Pedro x reader.

The reader is an actress just like him, they've been dating for a while, while there have been rumors about their relationship, they haven't made it public (yet), both of them want privacy. Some fans spot them sharing a kiss, going to do the groceries, dinner dates together (anything you want).

One day while the reader is doing an Instagram live cooking with her followers Pedro comes in and he's all touchy and goofy while she's all shy. Like when they're not right in front of the phone peeps see their reflection on something kissing

Caught on Camera

You were an actress, not exactly so famous, but you were working. Then you met Pedro on a movie set, and BAM! Instant connection. You guys fell hard, like, really hard, and fast. But you also decided pretty early on to keep things quiet. You both really valued having some privacy and wanted to let your relationship grow without everyone watching.

Of course, being in the public eye meant you weren't completely off the radar. Fans are like detectives, seriously! You'd get spotted grabbing groceries together, or out for dinner, even just sharing a car ride. A quick hug here, a laugh there – little moments that ended up as blurry pics online. The rumors started flying.

Were you two together? Everyone had an opinion. But you played it cool. Never confirmed, never denied. Your relationship was yours, and you were going to protect it.

Until one day.

You were in your kitchen, mid-Instagram live cooking session. Flour dusts your apron, and you're smiling warmly at the comments scrolling by.

You: "Hey everyone, welcome back to my little kitchen! For those of you who are new here, I'm [Y/N], and I love sharing my favorite recipes with you all. Tonight, we're making a delicious and easy pasta dish – perfect for a weeknight meal. So, let's get started! First, we need..."

Suddenly, the kitchen door swings open and Pedro walks in, grinning. He's carrying a bouquet of red roses.

Pedro: "Surprise!"

Your eyes widen, your cheeks flushing a delicate pink. You stammer slightly, then quickly whisper his name under your breath so the live audience doesn't catch it.

You: (Whispering) "Pedro! I'm going live on Instagram! Be quiet!"

Pedro: (Whispering back, but loud enough for the microphone to pick up a little)

"I missed you so much! And I'm starving!"

You give him a playful nudge, trying to hide your amusement from the camera.

You: (To the live audience, a little flustered) "Oh, uh, it seems I have a visitor. I apologize."

Then you walked closer to Pedro, hiding you two from the camera view.

(To Pedro, in a lower voice) "What are you doing here? I thought you were on set until tomorrow."

He leaned closer and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek, careful not to smudge any makeup.

"Couldn't stay away. Missed my favorite chef. And these," He gestures to the roses, "are for the most beautiful woman I know."

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently closer. You lean into him, a shy smile playing on your lips.

You: "You're going to make me blush on live stream."

Pedro: (Nuzzling your hair) "Is that so bad? I think you look adorable when you blush."

He playfully starts tasting the sauce you've been working on.

Pedro: "Mmm, it's amazing. Maybe I should stick around and be your sous chef."

Unaware to you both, the camera is catching more than you realize. A reflection in the stainless steel backsplash shows you sharing a quick, passionate kiss. The live chat explodes.

💬OMG! Did you guys see that?!

💬WE GOT YOU!

💬Finally! They're so cute!

💬#PedroAnd[Y/N]Confirmed

You, still flustered, glance at your phone. The comments are flying by a mile a minute.

You started laughing nervously.

"Okay, okay, you caught us. Hi everyone! Yes, this is Pedro. And yes," You take his hand, intertwining your fingers "we're together."

Pedro: (Smiling warmly at you) "We wanted to keep things private for a while, but… I guess the cat's out of the bag now."

You: "We appreciate all the love and support. And thank you for respecting our privacy until now. Now, back to this pasta…"

The live chat continues to buzz with excitement, filled with congratulatory messages and heart emojis.

Thank you for your request 💜

I hope so you are gonna like it. I apologize if it's too short 🫣

[minoouz]

Love, Unexpected ᜊ ‎ ── ‎ ( 심재윤 )

Pairing :: Jock!Sim Jaeyun x Shy!reader

𝐈 . Genre :: High school au

𝐈𝐈 . Word count :: 6k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 :: fluff, angst towards the end

Now, playing ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Out of Time ( The Weekend )

A/n :: made this for valentines day sorry yall are getting angst and fluff on valentines Day, but yeah, happy valentines Day, you all!!

Valentine’s Day had always been just another day for you.

While the rest of the school buzzed with excitement—couples exchanging gifts, confessions happening left and right, girls giggling as they delivered chocolates to their crushes—you stayed in your usual quiet corner of the library, watching from the sidelines.

You never expected to be a part of the chaos.

And you definitely never expected Jake Sim to sit next to you at lunch, smirking like he had all the time in the world.

"Hey, shy girl."

Your head snapped up, nearly choking on your drink. "W-What?"

Jake chuckled, resting his chin on his palm as he studied you. “Relax, I don’t bite. Just wanted to ask—did you get any valentines today?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “…No. Why?”

His smirk faltered for a brief second. “Really? Not even a secret admirer?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would—”

"Wrong."

Before you could process what was happening, Jake reached into his bag and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box with a red ribbon. Your name was written on a tiny heart-shaped tag—in his handwriting.

Your breath hitched. "This… is for me?"

"Obviously." He grinned, pushing it toward you. "Go on, open it."

With shaky fingers, you untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a delicate charm bracelet—a thin silver chain with a small heart and a football charm attached. Simple, but beautiful.

Your chest tightened. “Jake… why?”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because I like you.”

Your head snapped up, heart pounding. “What?”

Jake sighed, his usual confidence faltering. “Look, I know what people say about me. And yeah, maybe I used to mess around, but… I’ve never actually put effort into Valentine’s Day before.” His gaze softened. “You’re different, okay? I like you, and I want to do this right.”

Your mind raced. This had to be some kind of joke, right? There was no way Jake Sim, the biggest flirt in school, actually liked you.

Your silence must have worried him because he quickly added, “I’m not playing with you, I swear.”

You swallowed hard. “I just… I don’t get it. Why me?”

Jake let out a small, almost shy laugh. “Because you’re the only girl who doesn’t throw herself at me. You’re kind, smart, and way too cute for your own good.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “I notice you more than you think.”

Your heart clenched. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But a small voice in your head whispered doubts.

Would he get bored of you like he did with the others?

“Jake…” you started hesitantly, gripping the edge of the table. “What if I’m just another phase for you?”

His expression darkened, hurt flashing in his eyes. “You’re not.”

“You say that now, but what if you change your mind in a few weeks? I don’t—” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to be another girl you forget about.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “That’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

His hands clenched into fists on the table. “Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” His voice was firm, desperate. “I know I have a shitty reputation, but I swear to you, this isn’t some game. I don’t want anyone else.”

Your throat tightened. The sincerity in his voice, the way his usual cocky demeanor had crumbled, made you want to believe him.

“…What if I say yes?” you whispered.

His gaze softened. “Then I’ll prove to you every single day that you made the right choice.”

A long silence stretched between you, the sounds of the bustling cafeteria fading into the background.

Then, finally, you nodded. “O-Okay.”

Jake blinked. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah.”

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face—one that wasn’t cocky or teasing, just purely happy.

"Best. Valentine’s. Day. Ever."

And just like that, the school’s biggest playboy wasn’t a playboy anymore. Because for the first time, he had something real to fight for—you.

Dating Jake was nothing like you expected.

At first, it was overwhelming. People stared. Whispers followed you wherever you went. Girls sent you dirty looks in the hallways, some even going as far as asking what made you so special.

Jake, of course, didn’t care.

If anything, he loved showing you off—holding your hand in the halls, walking you to class, throwing an arm around your shoulders at lunch. He was sweet, attentive, and surprisingly patient.

And slowly, you started to believe him.

You let yourself fall.

You let yourself believe in the late-night phone calls, in the way he remembered the little things about you—how you took your coffee, your favorite songs, the way you hated the sound of pencils scratching against paper.

You let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you were different.

Until you weren’t.

It started with a shift.

Jake stopped texting first. Stopped calling. Stopped waiting for you at your locker.

He was still there, but not in the way he used to be. His kisses felt rushed, his mind elsewhere.

And then, the rumors started.

"Did you hear? Jake’s been hanging out with Mia again."

Mia. His ex. The one girl people swore he actually loved.

You didn’t want to believe it. You refused to. But then you saw them—standing in the parking lot, his arm slung around her shoulders, her hand resting on his chest like it belonged there.

Your heart cracked, but you still held on.

Until he gave you no choice.

"Y/N, we need to talk."

You knew those words. Knew what came next.

Still, you forced a smile. "Okay."

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

"I just… I don’t think this is working anymore."

Your fingers curled into fists. "Is it because of her?"

Jake flinched. "It’s not—"

"Don’t lie to me."

A long silence stretched between you before he exhaled, defeated. "I’m sorry."

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You didn’t cry—not in front of him. You refused to. Instead, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Okay."

Jake’s eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe. Regret. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Because for the first time since meeting him, you finally understood.

You were never different.

You were just another girl he got bored of.

And that hurt more than anything.

[holyhaech]

hiiiiii!!! can i request Jisung with the 3rd prompt please

stupid cupid

f!reader x park jisung (fluff, secret admirer)

you wake up on a random monday, normal as ever. everything following your regularly scheduled programming. well, until you get a text. it’s probably just your friends, asking you to join them at the party on friday, it’s valentine’s day after all! you already told them you’d go, but maybe they were just double-checking?

you open the text to see that it’s from a random number with the contact labeled “smu cupid”. what kind of stupid prank was this? i mean sure, you had no valentine. but this was just ridiculous. one of your friends must’ve signed you up for this.

you sigh as you read the text.

“you are beautiful, i love your smile. i see you smile from the back row of prof. lee’s lectures, usually when you talk to your friends. god, i wish i could be the one to make you smile like that one day. - andy.”

odd. i mean, it’s sweet and all, but it has to be written by a bot. there’s no one in your lectures named andy. not to mention the whole back row is usually too busy playing roblox to notice anything in front of them.

so you make it your mission for the next 2 days to track down this andy guy. you look back during your lectures, glancing at the back row, which confirms your suspicions. no one in the back row does anything but play video games.

little do you know, there’s a guy directly behind you 2 rows back. he looks at you every lecture, then hides behind his macbook once you turn around. he wishes he wasn’t so shy. but alas, that’s who park jisung was. the quiet nerd in the back of the lecture hall.

you gave up on the third day, thursday the 13th. there’s no chance that someone was going to as you to be their valentine. you convinced yourself that you were okay with that. the messages didn’t stop though, one per day.

tuesday: “i love the way you did your hair today, if i was yours i’d braid your hair every day if i could.”

wednesday: “you’re so smart it boggles my mind! how did you know the answer when no one else did? you amaze me everyday.”

and now, thursday: “this sounds weird but could you go to the big lawn at 4pm? i get out of my last class at 3:30, so i want to ask you something.”

well here you are, 3:58, standing in the middle of the big lawn, looking like a loser. the clock keeps ticking down, with you doubting this whole thing more and more every second.

at 4:02 he shows up, out of breath with flowers in his hand. your secret admirer was none other than park jisung? the boy you had a crush on for all of freshman year? this had to be a joke.

“you’re…andy?” you ask, suspicious.

“uhh yes! it’s my english name. my korean name is park jisung.” you extend his hand holding the flowers, handing them to you.

“i can’t believe this.” you say incredulously.

“did i do something wrong? ireadthatflowersaregoodforconfessionsandtheseremindedmeofyouand.” he rushes through his words, panicking

you cut him off with a kiss on the cheek. “it’s perfect jisung, thank you.”

his cheeks turn crimson. “oh, you’re welcome.” he responds meekly.

“i just wanted to say that i’ve had a crush on you since two years ago, in english 101. and at first i thought it was just a fleeting thing, i don’t know i’ve never been in love before. but my feelings just kept growing the more and more i saw you. i was just wondering if you would like to be my valentine? sorry that all sounded really creepy.” he stops himself to find you making eye contact with him with a bright smile on your face.

“i like you too, jisung or should i say…andy.”

he looks back at you with wide eyes, obviously not expecting this reaction.

you pull him in for a soft kiss. he melts into your lips, sinking into you with every passing second. you pull back to take a breath, with him panting in front of you.

“i love you, yn.”

“i love you too.”

you come together in an embrace, slowly rocking back and forth, enjoying the sunset behind you both.

a/n: title is inspired by nct dream's stupid cupid. hope you like this anon! i feel like it kinda sucks but oh well! we're our harshest critics ig. made this bc i'm tired of the fuckboy jisung allegations!!! that man is a capital L LOSER. he would cream his pants from just a kiss, its true!

[teslasucks37]

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), tsundere-ish!Reader, afab!reader (no pronouns tho), dom!Charlie, spanking (Reader Recieving), Canon Divergent, Slight classism from Reader? (If u like really squint and read between the lines (the longing to be touched by a hardworking man))

A/N: Heavily inspired by the beautiful dredge playthrough we’ve been blessed! (I imagined this taking place in the dredge world without any of the past memory stuff cause I came up for this idea before I finished the playthrough afterward…) This is a weird mashup of a headcannon format with actual fic content, while still remaining a little vague for artistic purposes. (Also yes I made a visual depiction of the reader above but their appearance doesn’t come up) This is nearly 2.5k words… I got a little carried away… Also if it’s bad or I missed a typo no I did not it is 5:16 am 🤨

Fisherman!Charlie x Reader

Love and Kisses

When he first came to your small little cottage by the rocks, you were less than happy to see him.

Much less than happy.

All you wanted was to be left alone.

But no, him and his stupid boat had to come bobbing over the horizon.

“What do you want?” You called out to him from the dock in a harsh tone.

He stood up after finishing tying off his boat with insane speed, seeming surprised at your prickly greeting. “Uh, do you need help with anything?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What? No?”

You weren’t like the other people he’d met around this place, instead abrasive and reclusive.

Not jumping at the chance for someone’s help like the rest of them.

“Your dock is looking pretty rough.”

You looked to the planks of wood beneath your feet, practically falling apart from lack of use.

“Well, I don’t need help from the likes of you.” You barked, crossing your arms.

“What, a fisherman?” He cocked his head, glancing down at his attire, his shirt slightly dirty with miscellaneous scales, fins, smears, and stains.

“From anyone!” You shouted, turning to walk back up the stony steps to your cottage. “Just go away!”

He stood there for a moment, taking one more look at the deteriorating dock, before unwrapping his boat and sailing away.

You watched him go from high atop your cottage, hoping that would be the last you saw of him, of anyone for a long time.

But the next time he came back was only a day or so later.

He tied off his boat to your rickety dock, before stepping back onto the deck of his vessel and hauling out armfuls of planks.

You’d been out on your front lawn, basking in the sun, when you glanced below at the dock to see it being ripped up by that same damn fisherman from the day before.

“Hey!” You shouted to him as you raced down your stone steps toward him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He glanced up at you, before turning back to destroying the planks beneath him. “I’m fixing your dock.”

“Well it seems more like you’re breaking it…” You crossed your arms. “I could have you arrested for destruction of property.”

“I’m Charlie.” He stood up, dusting off his hands, then holding one out to you. “Just so you know whose name to put on the police report.”

“You smell like fish.” You glared at his outstretched hand, causing him to retract it with an awkward grin, before he continued his work.

“Well, I do fish for a living.” He joked, a smile etching on his face.

Your frown deepened at his smile, watching as he just kept working. “What if I don’t want it fixed?”

“Well, I think that’s a shame.” Charlie grabbed a nail, hammering it into another board and jostling it all to make sure it stayed in place. “Cause this happens to be a mighty fine spot for a dock.”

Your glare was simply met with a soft smile. “Just… Don’t come past the dock. Or you’re trespassing.”

He nodded in agreement, watching you walk back up the steps into the cottage.

You watched him from your living room window, doing nothing for days but rebuilding your dock for you.

Your disdain for him shrank, if only a little bit.

“I can’t give you any kind of compensation.” You called out to him from the stone steps as he finished hammering down the last plank.

“That’s okay.” Charlie just shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stood up. “I wasn’t expecting any.”

You narrowed a brow at him.

There was no way that was true.

Everyone always wanted something.

That’s just the way the world was.

You’d accepted that long ago.

But even after he finished the dock, he came back the next day.

It didn’t make any sense.

There was nothing there for him, no trading, no shops, no interesting artifacts.

Just you.

Every time he came, he just wanted to see you.

You two would chat about nothing and everything while sitting on the dock he’d built with his bare hands, despite his jokes that he wasn’t cut out for “rough handed” work, whatever that meant.

It wasn’t until around then that you felt comfortable telling him your name.

One day he asked you how you’d wound up on these rocks, in this cottage.

“It was my grandparents’ before they died. They left the house in my name and… Anywhere was better than living with my parents any longer…” You trailed off, not mentioning anything more on the subject.

He wondered if that was why you were always alone, if that’s why your dock had been so neglected.

You were still stewing in anger.

Charlie wanted to help, obviously.

Perhaps the dock was just the start, maybe the real quest was making you see the world in a better light again.

Not that you were an objective to be completed or something, but the thought of making you believe in humanity again did fill him with a sense of hope.

And so he tried.

He would show up at various times, in the peacefulness of the morning, in the dead of night, and you would wake up for him every time.

Charlie would always honk the horn when he was coming or going, which you complained about, claiming that it was too loud and would wake up the wildlife.

But of course, every time he even hinted at stopping the practice, you backtracked, saying that if he didn’t announce his presence, he might run into a resting animal close to the dock.

You both knew it was a bullshit excuse, but neither of you ever dared to say it.

He would always do it in a special little pattern too.

Hooonk hooonk honk honk honk, honk honk honk hooonk hooonk.

He said that it was Morse code for 73, a way that people would say “best regards” through telegrams and ham radios.

You found it endearing, though you’d never say that to his face.

But then one day he changed it.

Hooonk hooonk hooonk honk honk, hooonk hooonk hooonk honk honk.

You asked him what it meant, and he just shrugged, a sly grin on his face.

You searched your grandparents’ small library for something, anything regarding Morse code, but you found nothing.

Any time you brought it up he would move to a new topic immediately, a shit eating grin on his face.

You would talk to him about the new things you were growing in your garden and he would talk to you about the fish he’d caught that day, even inviting you aboard one time to view the fish in the cooler.

“Is it… Supposed to look like that?”

“Uh… I don’t really know. The fish look kinda different around here.”

“And that one?”

“Oh that one’s actually rotting, let me throw that out.”

“Oh, ew ew ew-“

You didn’t end up going back in there for a while.

It got to the point that he was tying his boat to your dock every other day consistently for nearly three months.

So when he didn’t show up for nearly a week, you were worried.

Insanely worried.

Like stay up all night tossing and turning imagining the worst worried.

One day, at around dinner time, a horn honked out in a pattern you recognized so well across the horizon.

You practically knocked your dining room chair over at how fast you stood up and sprinted out the door, racing down the stone steps to meet him.

Charlie had just finished tying his boat to your dock as you wrapped him in a hug.

He stumbled lightly, not expecting the sudden contact.

“Where were you?” You mumbled into his shoulder, despite the faint fish smell.

Behind it, he smelled like the ocean breeze, salty and warm.

“I’m sorry.” Charlie whispered against the crown of your head, your hair tickling his face as he pulled you closer. “I was helping a friend. It took longer than I thought it would.”

“I thought that you…”

Drowned? Died? Lost interest?

He seemed to understand every thought in your head immediately, pulling away from you just far enough to tilt your chin up with a hooked finger and kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, even as he pulled away, you struggled to open them again.

“It’ll take more than a few sea beasts to sink me.” He joked with a lopsided smile, even though the prospect wasn’t very funny.

“Don’t do that again.” You mumbled, deadly serious despite the soft look in your eyes.

Charlie pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I won’t, I promise.”

From then on he never left for longer than a day without letting you know ahead of time.

It only took a few more visits for you to finally invite him to come up and see the house.

But that wasn’t your only intention.

“You know, I never did thank you properly for rebuilding my dock… But I think I have a little something that you’d like~”

But first you forced him to hose off the fish smell before he stepped inside.

It didn’t take long before you were on him, to his absolute delight.

After all, you hadn’t had someone in your house for a long time, so you weren’t about to waste it.

It took only moments until he had you face down and ass up on the bed.

You’d been so rude to him when he’d first arrived, he wanted to be a little mean back.

And there was absolutely no way you were thinking of stopping him.

He caressed your waist like he hadn’t touched anyone like this in years.

And being as secluded out at sea as he was, he probably hadn’t.

His fingers kneaded the bare skin on your waist, thighs, ass, everything covering the important bits discarded already on your bedroom floor.

When he slipped inside you for the first time it practically made you see stars.

“Oh, fuck!”

It already reached so fucking deep inside you.

Your eyes rolled back for a moment, before fluttering closed at the sensations zipping through your synapses and corrupting your brain into a hazy state of complete pleasure.

His speed was anything but slow, his desperation obvious in how he stretched you out, not waiting for you at all.

It hurt in just the right way to feel so good, especially when it was Charlie doing it to you.

“Fuck, feels so good…” He slurred out, his mind mush at the sight of your body combined with the feeling of your velvety walls pulsing around him.

You gasped slightly as he landed a light slap on your ass, so soft it couldn’t even be considered a slap, maybe just a harsh motion to make your ass jiggle for him.

Wiggling your ass involuntarily in response led to him grabbing your ass, slapping it again just to make it move.

A moan fell from your lips at the contact, making him grin and slap harder.

“Oh fuck…” He mumbled, busy admiring your reactions to his spanking. “So good for me~”

His voice was breathy, like he was fighting to hold himself back.

“Please~” You weren’t even exactly sure what you were asking for, but it was the only word you managed to choke out before you sobbed in pleasure at his increase in speed.

Charlie pressed your hips into the mattress with his own, the pure force of his thrusts bouncing you back onto his cock. “That’s it, baby~”

God, you were gonna cum.

You were gonna cum on a fisherman’s cock.

You were gonna cum on Charlie’s cock.

You gasped as you squirted around him, dripping all over the bed, running down your thighs and his balls.

His hips ground against you, shoving his cock all the way in to kiss at your cervix, making you groan in pleasured pain at the feeling.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Uh huh!” You moaned against the mattress, grasping your sheets desperately for some kind of purchase to recover from your orgasm, but he didn’t give you that.

Charlie gripped your ass, pulling you back onto his cock again, making you shout out and arch your back.

“Hah~ Hah~ Hah~” You panted and groaned and shook within his mighty grip, completely helpless.

“I’m gonna come home to you every fucking night…” He mumbled between thrusts, profanities spilling from his mouth under his breath. “And I’m gonna fill you up every fucking night.”

Your walls clenched at the thought of Charlie calling your home his, your body his, you his.

He felt it around him, making him pound harder, faster, if that was even possible.

You could tell he was purely trying to cum, absolutely thrilled at even the notion that it would be inside you, so much so you whispered to him. “Please… Cum inside meee~” You whined, Charlie responding with a light groan and a tighter readjustment of his grip on your ass.

He pounded into you with wild abandon, the wetness from your previous orgasm letting him glide freely in and out of you.

“Fuck~” Charlie moaned headily at the sensation, your walls fluttering around him in overstimulation.

His fingertips gripped your waist hard as he rocked inside you a few more times, slowing to a stop as he twitched and panted, emptying his load inside you.

You both practically collapsed into each other, breathing and shivering, absolutely exhausted.

It wasn’t until you were in his arms and he was playing with your hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers, that he let his big secret slip.

“It’s 88.”

“What?” You asked groggily, glancing up from his chest.

“The Morse code. I changed it to 88.”

You said nothing, waiting for him to continue on his own.

He bit the inside of his flushed cheek, shy for the first time in his life. “It means… Love and kisses.”

You had to hold back a grin.

“Love and kisses?” You repeated back with a teasing smirk.

He nodded triumphantly, as if he had won a game. “I know, I’m a genius.”

You chuckle, smacking him lightly on the chest.

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You raised a finger, tapping it rhythmically on his arm.

Press press press tap tap, press press press tap tap.

Charlie smiled, pulling you tighter as he repeated the pattern against your back.

The two of you fell asleep together, pressing “love and kisses” into each others’ skin.

[oldsoul007]

kiss me

grumpy!joel miller x reader

summary: Joel despises the superficiality of Valentine’s Day, and you, a hopeless romantic who adores love in all its forms, find your friendship tested when you spend Valentine’s week together as single friends, only to discover unexpected feelings that blur the line between friendship and love.

a/n: a little valentine story for yall 💞

joel miller masterlist

Valentine’s week was my favorite time of year. Everything felt lighter, softer—like the world was wrapped in a warm, pink haze. Even if most people thought it was cheesy, I loved it. Love letters, heart-shaped candies, couples holding hands—it made me believe that love, real love, was still out there.

Joel Miller didn’t share that belief.

“Don’t even start,” Joel grumbled the moment he picked up my call, his deep, tired voice crackling through the phone.

I grinned, curling up on my couch with a cup of coffee. “Start what?” I teased, already picturing the irritated look on his face. “I was just calling to check on my favorite Valentine’s Grinch.”

He let out a long sigh, and I bit back a laugh.

“What do you want, y/n?”

“Well,” I drew out the word, knowing exactly how much he’d hate what I was about to say. “We’re both single this year. Why don’t we spend Valentine’s week together?”

There was a beat of silence. I imagined him blinking in disbelief.

“You’re joking.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” I insisted. “Movies, takeout, no pressure. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even convince you that love isn’t as terrible as you think it is.”

“Not happening,” he muttered, but I heard the faintest smile in his voice.

“Is that a yes?” I pressed, holding my breath.

Another long sigh, then—“Fine. But don’t expect me to wear anything pink.”

I laughed, my heart fluttering. “Deal.”

The next few days felt like walking a tightrope.

We spent almost every moment together, but never crossed the line. We did all the things couples do—late-night drives with music humming softly in the background, sharing breakfasts at the little diner on Main Street, walking through the park while I pointed out every couple holding hands just to watch Joel roll his eyes.

But neither of us said it. Neither of us dared to admit what was simmering beneath the surface.

“This is exhausting,” Joel muttered as we sat on a park bench, sipping coffee.

“What is?” I asked, smiling into my cup.

“All of this. People pretending for a week that they’re in love.”

I nudged his shoulder playfully. “Not everyone’s pretending, you know.”

He scoffed. “Name one couple that ain’t puttin’ on a show.”

I didn’t even have to think. “My grandparents.”

Joel raised an eyebrow.

“They’ve been together for 53 years,” I said softly, my smile turning wistful. “They met in college. My grandpa still brings her flowers every Friday. And she still laughs at all his bad jokes.”

Joel let out a low hum, like he wasn’t sure if he believed me.

“I’m not saying it’s common,” I added, reading his mind. “But just because it’s rare doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

He glanced at me then, his gaze lingering a little too long, a little too soft. My breath caught, but I looked away before my feelings betrayed me.

One afternoon, we ended up in the bookstore downtown, wandering through the aisles. Joel found himself in the history section, while I was drawn to the romance novels, of course.

“You’re really gonna read one of those?” he asked, leaning against the shelf with a teasing smirk.

“Yes, Joel,” I shot back, holding up a book with a dramatic cover. “It’s called escapism. You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll stick to the real world, thanks.”

“Where love doesn’t exist?” I teased.

“Exactly.”

I sighed dramatically, shaking my head. “You’re hopeless.”

As we walked out, I couldn’t help myself. I nodded toward an older couple sitting on a bench, their hands intertwined, lost in their own little world.

“Look at them,” I whispered. “Don’t tell me that’s not real.”

Joel followed my gaze, but said nothing. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

It started with a simple plan—cook dinner, keep things light, pretend my heart wasn’t on the verge of bursting every time Joel Miller looked at me.

I wasn’t exactly a gourmet chef, but I knew my way around a kitchen well enough to whip up something decent. Joel sat at the counter, watching me with an amused expression, a beer in hand.

“You sure you’re not gonna burn the place down?” he teased.

I shot him a playful glare. “I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. I, on the other hand, was trying not to melt under the weight of his gaze.

I turned on some music to fill the silence, letting the soft strum of a guitar filter through the room. And then it happened—one of my favorite love songs started playing. A soft, sweet melody that made my chest ache.

“Uh-oh,” Joel muttered, already sensing what was coming.

I grinned, turning to face him. “Dance with me.”

“Y/n…” he warned, shaking his head.

“Please?” I stretched out the word, giving him my best pleading eyes. “For me?”

He let out a long sigh, but when I reached out my hand, he took it without a fight.

His hand was warm as he pulled me close, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his calloused fingers. We swayed in my tiny kitchen, the smell of dinner forgotten, the music weaving around us like a secret only we knew.

“This is ridiculous,” he whispered, but there was a softness in his voice, in the way his hand rested on my waist.

“Maybe,” I whispered back, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I could feel it—the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, the way his breath hitched when I leaned in closer.

For a moment, it felt like we weren’t pretending anymore. Like the feelings we never spoke about were real, tangible.

When the song ended, Joel pulled back slowly, his eyes lingering on mine. The air between us crackled with something unspoken.

“Dinner’s gonna burn,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he stepped away.

I laughed softly, but my heart still ached.

Because even when we danced around our feelings, I knew the truth.

Valentine’s Day arrived quietly, the way it always did.

I felt like I was losing my grip. Every smile, every lingering glance, every time Joel’s hand brushed against mine felt like it was unraveling me.

When I opened my apartment door that morning to find Joel standing there—grumpy expression firmly in place—holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, I froze.

“Uh… these are for you,” he mumbled, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

I stared at the flowers, then at him, trying to process the fact that Joel Miller—the man who swore up and down that Valentine’s Day was nothing but a commercial scam—was holding flowers for me.

“Is this a joke?” I teased, even though my heart was racing.

“Do you want ‘em or not?” he grumbled, shoving them toward me.

I laughed softly, taking the bouquet from his hands. “They’re beautiful, Joel. Thank you.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… you like this kinda thing. Figured you deserved somethin’ nice.”

My chest tightened at his words. Joel Miller, who claimed not to believe in love, had just done something more thoughtful than any grand gesture ever could be.

That night, we ended up back at my apartment, a bottle of wine between us, laughing over old memories.

“I don’t get it,” Joel said, leaning back on the couch, his voice quieter now. “You got your heart broken—bad—and you still believe in all this love stuff.”

I swallowed hard, the memory of my past relationship still a dull ache. “Because I know what it feels like to be loved, Joel. Even if it wasn’t forever. And I know what it feels like to be alone, too.”

He looked at me then, something unreadable in his eyes. “You’re not alone,” he whispered.

And for a moment, I let myself believe him.

The night felt endless, every moment stretching out between us like a question neither of us wanted to answer.

I could feel Joel beside me, the weight of his presence grounding me, but also unraveling me. The flowers he’d given me sat on the table, delicate and unexpected, just like him.

“Joel,” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart.

He turned to me, eyes darker than usual, something unreadable flickering in them.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but before I could, Joel was already moving.

His hand cupped my face, rough fingertips trailing along my jaw, and then his lips were on mine.

This wasn’t a tentative kiss. This wasn’t careful. This was Joel Miller finally giving in, finally letting go of every wall he had built around his heart.

His mouth pressed urgently against mine, and I melted into him, my hands gripping his shirt as if holding on for dear life. His other hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

I felt everything in that kiss—every unspoken word, every moment we’d danced around our feelings, every piece of him he’d kept hidden from the world.

When we broke apart, breathless, Joel rested his forehead against mine, his voice rough and low.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t want to.”

I swallowed hard, my heart aching in the best way. “Then don’t.”

He kissed me again, softer this time, but with the same intensity, the same longing that had always been there—waiting for us to finally stop pretending.

In that moment, I knew. Joel Miller didn’t just care for me.

He loved me.

[bedouinpoet]

A picture is worth a thousand words

Aaron Hotchner x (photographer) reader

Warning: 18+ only please, SMUT, mentions of torture and murder, emotional trauma.

I hope you all enjoy, may not be my best work but been super sick 🤒 all month and just saw this as a cute idea. Another three part Aaron Hotchner story coming soon my lovelies!

…

You’ve been a PI for over two years and ironically a professional photographer for 5. You got into the detective business by accident really.

5 years before

“Hi! Mrs. Barrows? So sorry for the wait I was just setting up…is Mr Barrows here?” You notice the sadness in her eyes, and the tears you notice swelling in her eyes that made you want to bring her in a hug

“is…is everything alright?”

With that final question her tears ran

“he’s cheating on me”

Oh gosh this is gonna be a domestic “urm did you…is there something I can do?”

She shook her head, her face slightly aged but her beauty never wavering, elegant, fuck her husband, he is missing out.

“Hey ya know what, let me take some pics you’re already dressed and have everything.”

After some persuasion you noticed her confidence building while the session continued and it made your day when her laugh came out at the perfect moment. By the end she received an unexpected text. Apparently her husband was held up at the station (cop). Mhmmm right. Oldest excuse in the book but you keep your mouth shut however apparently your face shows more then you thought

“you don’t believe him?”

you really need to learn to control your facial expressions sometimes

“that’s not my place to say”

“but you think it….i do too I just…I don’t know, we have been married for 26 years I can’t believe it but I also need to know…” like a light bulb in her eyes you could almost read her thought “would you be willing to…if I hired you, would you be willing to…follow him, take pictures…just to see if he is really having an affair I’m willing to pay…”

“like…a PI?” “Please”

….

present day.

Turned out her hubby really was just a cheating ass and you were able to get her the proof she needed to believe it and leave…Thanks to her you found your calling…well second calling as a private detective. And a damn good one you became known as the cold case queen. Solving 15 cold cases in your last two years and assisting the police department in on-going investigations. Yet despite that you never would have expected the FBI to be knocking on your door. Especially in the middle of a photography session with a middle aged couple in a rather riské position.

”ahem..excuse me Miss Y/l/n-“

”y/n will be just fine no last name needed what can I do for you agent?”

“Agent Hotchner of the behaviour analysis Unit, this is Dr Reid and Agent Morgan… we were-um” you look back at a rather flustered Agent Hotchner and you can’t help smirk at the hottest man you’ve ever seen flustered and damn did it turn you on. “You were what agent? It’s alright I can talk and work at the same time Mr and Mrs Auburn don’t mind do you?” They both merely smile and laugh.

He clears his throat “right well we actually are assisting in the investigation of nine murdered woman in the last two years and we’ve been told that you are investigating a murder of a Tabatha Burns she-“

It’s like you can see Mrs Burns like it was yesterday, crying in your arms at the murder of her daughter a year ago, police marked it a cold case but she never stopped looking

”yes I know. It’s my only open case At the moment, her mother hired me a few months ago….you think it’s connected to your nine?”

”yes she fits the victimology and according to her mother the victim..”

“Tabatha….her name is Tabatha, she’s dead doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve her own identity-“

you take a deep breath trying to hold the attitude in, scared that you just offended the skinny one they call Dr Reid. He merely smiles understandably as you notice agent’s eyes looking into your soul, like he’s trying to study you like a book…and you start to wonder how much he can read. Hotchner speaks for Reid

“of course…according to Tabitha’s mother she was running her usual route but never came back”

“yes I went the route to see the most likely places she could have been attacked-“

“and?”

“Well it was during midday so there were others around most of the route but she turns into the woods half way through. Rough ground, and extremely annoying for those of you, like my fine self, who don’t run unless I’m chasing or being chased I was winded barely half way there-“

you notice the model of a man agent Derek laugh and Dr Reid holding in one. But your attention remained on the dark haired stud whose eyes remained serious even as you notice a smirk pulling at his mouth against his better judgement….mmm what I would do for those lips on- you shake off the wetness pooling between your legs as you continue

“anyway you’d need to know the area and be patient, as well as physically fit to keep up with Tabatha, find your way around, AND knock her out and take her to a second location without ever being noticed and not having a single witness…”

You could feast on those impressed looks these agents are giving you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t boost your ego and confidence. You continued and let them know everything you had…

”thank you Mis- I mean y/n this has been greatly helpful and appreciated, if you can think of anything else or find any more information please give me a personal call here’s my number-“ Hotchner hands you the card and his callused fingers lightly graze against your hand and it feels like a flame in the midst of a blizzard.

His gaze never wavering from you, remaining moments longer as the rest turn away. As he turns away however it’s like you want to stay in Hotchner’s presence a little longer. “Um actually agent Hotchner-“

“please Hotch is fine” you smile at the opportunity to get closer to this man and his warmth…

”thanks…well um Hotch…I wanted to ask…if you do find whoever did this. This unsub you call it? Let me be the one to tell Tabathas mother? She has gone through so much and I’ve made her a promise I will do everything in my power to give her some justice… she deserves to hear it all from a friend….we both know its gonna get uglier before he makes a mistake and you find him and…she doesn’t even know everything he did to Tab…I know its not how things are done in the FBI and protocol and whatever but i’d consider it a huge favour if-“

he grabs your hand and it stops your rambling in your tracks as he gently rubs your hand with his thumb…”I understand….I will call you personally and I’ll make sure to tell the officers”

you smile gratefully and notice his hands remained in yours and your heart beats so loud you could hear it in your ears and you pray he can’t hear it. Little did you know his heart was beating just as hard and his cock twitched as you gave him that pleading look in your eyes wanting to stare at them forever. But Derek pries him away and he desperately wishes everything could stop for a moment so he could have his way.

….

The case went just as you said…a fuck ton uglier before Hotchner and his BAU team found the unsub…a Richard Prine….while he was torturing a young woman that you swear could be Tabatha’s sister. You didn’t even know until Hotch texted you

Aaron ‘the hunk’ Hotchner: We found him. Would you like me to meet you to tell you everything?

Y/N: :( I would prefer you coming over for better reasons ;) but yes you can come to my apartment if that’s alright I’m just doing some work at home.?

you send him your address and within the hour Aaron Hotchner is at your door and damn do you almost swoon at his loosed tie unbuttoned at the top and no suite jacket….but he looks so tired, so worn….its worse then you thought.

“Come in”

You move aside and smell a note of his intoxicating cologne

“please sit…would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

”water’s just fine thanks”

You get both of you some iced water and you sit bracing yourself for whatever he has to say. You dig your feet into the carpet and fidget with the rings on your finger

“his name was Richard Prine ….”

You tried not to throw up as Hotch tells you everything. By the end your head feels like its gonna explode

“fuck….I’m gonna have to tell Tabs mother, how am I gonna tell her-“ you rub your eyes from complete exhaustion and walk to your espresso machine if your gonna do this you need something to keep you going “want one?”

“Sure….when will you go to Mrs Burns?”

his eyes remain on you searching, reading,

“After I chug this down-“

”would…would you like me to go with you? After all I still owe you that photo shoot for sharing all your information you had on the case We can go there straight after and have the night…we leave for Quantico tomorrow afternoon” you almost forgot that you made him agree to a photoshoot before handing your files over. You blush and you gratefully nod and you would hug him right now if it didn’t risk you wanting to jump his bones in the desperate need for a distraction and to think of anything but the terrible trauma that you are about to inflict on an already mourning mother.

“Thanks….I’d appreciate the company”

“Of course. I can drive as well if you’d like?”

“Nah it’s ok I enjoy driving helps clear my head but thanks…shall we?” You quickly grab your red leather jacket and let Hotch pass as you lock your door and put the security code, he stares at the extra security you had placed and you’re surprised to see concern in his eyes…

”I had a couple break ins by some rather angry hubbys who’s wives were none too happy to find out about their many lovers…..and vices”

“ah….they didn’t hurt you did they?” You notice Hotch’s hands clench and you are rather touched by the fact this man already cares that much.

“They tried haha but no usually they didn’t get within two steps near me before they get knocked on their asses” he smiles at that almost challenging look in is eyes and for the life of you you can’t figure out what it means but you want to see how far it can be pushed.

The drive was silent on your way to Mrs Burns as your head turns into a storm of words trying to figure out what you are gonna say, what you should say and what should remain unsaid.

“Just tell her the truth….at the end of the day. She deserves to know and I found with the truth at least they won’t question what happened and they can move forward and try and move on” It was like he could read your very thoughts and his words were a comfort to you. He’s right. That’s all she ever asked of you and you can’t back down now.

…

”the truth is Marge…” you look at Hotch’s eyes and he looks at you with such elegant care and you find comfort lost in his brown caramel eyes.

“The truth is Marge….Tab was killed by a man who needed to feel in power and he took it out on Tab….but the truth is Tabatha was a brave, kind hearted girl and she died protecting another girl, she died being kind and that takes so much strength….thats how you should remember it and her Marge. Don’t give that coward any attention cause he doesn’t deserve it. Tab was a hero and that’s all you need to know” you do everything you can to not to break down as Marge breaks down falling to her knees crying and you fall to your knees next to her and hold her, she grasps onto you for dear life you hug her tight and let her cry. All you wanted to do was cry right by her but you keep your eyes locked on Hotch and his eyes are like a hug to your soul supporting you up and keeping you strong and his smile makes you want to kiss that smile and stay there forever you stay firm.

When Marge’s eyes dry you help her sit and make her a tea before you leave. As you go back into the family room handing her the tea Hotch is holding her hand “you have my most heartfelt condolences Mrs Burns and if there is anything I can do please don’t hesitate to call me” he hands her his card and you hand her her tea before “we should probably head out please try to rest Marge and I’ll come by in a couple days to check up” She gives you one last grateful hug and you both leave. The pain in her eyes and her tears staining your shirt and mind.

The ride back was silent and Hotch respected your need to just sit and think. Even on your way up to your studio he respected it and merely comforted you just by being near. He opened every door for you and let you go first. Once you turned on the lights of the studio you felt a relief in your heart. For a few hours the pain can be subsided and distracted by taking pictures of this painfully sexy dark haired, serious FBI agent. As you stare back you almost laugh out loud seeing this usually composed serious man, stand awkwardly in the middle of the room as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself and you feel your dominant side arise. “You can relax handsome we just taking some pictures not rehearsing in front of a crowd. Can you take your tie off and sit down on the sofa….there is a waiver on the table I’d like you to read and sign before we begin.”

“A waver?”

“Yup…basically just saying that we wont do anything you aren’t comfortable with and if at any point you feel uncomfortable you will tell me immediately and we will stop. I usually take pictures of the sexier or kinkier persuasion, so consent is priority. And if you do decide to share my work you give me the credit and etc.”

he reads through the the contract and you smile….yup he was definitely a lawyer…you can practically see him take apart the entire waiver…you set everything up. You’ve been thinking about taking his pictures, how you want him posed, since you’ve met. You look back to see him sign the waiver. “Perfect….so this is where it gets rather intimate so as I said we wont do anything you aren’t comfortable with. If you can sit here” you point to the chair you had set up, the chair is set backwards so his arms and head will rest on the back, his legs spread.

“Um….how do you want me..”

”just sit on it just how it’s facing me…”

His tie is off but his shirt is still buttoned so you go to him as he’s sitting “may I?” You gesture you hands to his shirt and he swallows hard his eyes slightly dilated. “Of course”

“perfect”

you unbutton his top buttons and you keep your hand longer then nessasry on his chest, you coul feel his heart beating through and for a moment you stay like that Hotchs eyes blow black.. you finally pull yourself away and lightly ruffle his hair. “Perfect now I want you to look down at me maybe have your head leaning against your hand.” He does as you say, naturally and it looks just as hot as you imagined….fuck he’s hot deliciously so…you take a few pictures of him in this position, and the more pictures you take you notice Hotch’s inhibitions slowly break away and his comfort levels increasing. “Ok so this next one is a bit more intimate are you on with it? I wanna go for a dominant becoming submissive sorta vibe?” His confusion evident and adorable, absolutely adorable. You smile and take your camera. you stand up close in front of him…he looks up at you sitting in the chair and fuck, seeing him look up at you with those curious dilated innocent eyes makes you want to kiss him until he begs for breath. Or cuff him to that chair and show him how good he can feel. His breath quickens so you try and remain calm and collected. you step even closer feeling his warmth and his breath on your chest. “You are the type of man who is always dominant, always having to be in control. Sometimes guys like you, need to let go. Let go of control and thoughts and just feel. There is a beauty to it and damn can it feel good.” Your breath quickens as you talk and you can see Hotch’s cheeks flush and heat. He swallows hard and his eyes are almost entirely black, no sign of that caramel, you set your camera….this is exactly how you want him but one more touch…you move your hand faster then you think and your hand is on his throat…’s breath hitches and he almost stops breathing like he couldn’t move “is this okay?” You whisper and he swallows, you feel the action under your hands, his pulse, his warmth, his neck in your hands and you feel the warmth and wetness stick to your panties as he meekly nods you keep your hand there and take a picture after picture. Finally, you put down your camera and before you remove your hand he grabs it to keep your hand on his neck and your grip tightens. You stay there for a moment afraid to move and this whole moment falls apart, you move even closer and your grip tightens just enough to partially block his air ways, you look down and notice his hardening under his slacks and you smirk down at him as he swallows and moves himself into your grasp. You don’t think, you don’t consider you just go for it and within the same second your lips come crashing into his and its like fire to your entire body as his hands move through your hair and pulls so you keep your grip on his neck and make him stand up as your tongue finds its way into his mouth needing to taste him more and you feel his equal desperation…

”give me your belt” you whisper into his mouth and he obeys without restraint, unbuckling his belt and taking it off all in one smooth movement. He hands it to you leaning in, desperate for more kisses but you put your hands on his chest and keep him a step away. He damn near whimpers for the need of your warmth and it turns you on to see this man needing you like you’re his only meal.

“Give me your hands Aaron Hotchner” at the sound of his first name he growls and hands you his hands anything to feel your warmth you keep eye contact and put his hands together and tie them slowly without even having to look…this is like muscle memory for you. Once his hands are tied you can see the length of his impressive hard on trying to rip through his slacks and you take his hands and lead him to the couch. you sit him down and he swallows as you keep his tied hands in yours kissing them slowly and sucking his fingers he growls “fuck y/n please”

“please what Aaron? Tell me what you want agent”

“say my name again”

“tsk tsk tsk don’t you know to say please Agent?” You tease

”fuck…please say my name y/n please”

“mmm Aaron tell me what you want”

he moans just at the sound of his name through your lips and you can feel him trying to grab you with his tied hands but you don’t give him the chance you swiftly move his hands on top of his head and sit on his lap the feeling of his bulge under you, between your legs makes you moan his name as you slowly grind on his lap his eyes rolling back and he almost fights your grip but you tighten your grip on his arms and kiss his neck, biting his neck and nibbling his ears. His moans and growls intoxicating. “Keep your arms up or I get off your lap understand?” He moans and nods “yes” he whispers out of breath. “Yes I understand”

You leg go of his arms and he obeys and keeps his arms up, his gaze never leaving you as you unbuckle his pants and- he hisses at your touch as you pump his bare hard cock “fuck y/n baby fuck yes please fuck” you keep pumping him faster and harder as you grind on his lap and pump, kissing his lips, his tongue attacking yours like a war you don’t want to end. “I said use yours words Aaron what do you want sir? Tell me how you want me” his eyes darken and you can swear he looks at you like prey even as you’re on top of him and he is the one tied up. You are still his prey. “Please….i want to be in you. I need you” you swallow hard at the words as you get off his lap just fast enough to take off your pants and before you can react his tied hands are grabbing you back into him and you don’t even fight it you lift your self up on his lap and at first just put the tip in, fuck this mans impressive even his tip starts to stretch you and you love the needy growls and moans as you tease him further…he smiles as he wipes that smirk from your face by grabbing your shirt and pushing you all the way down his length and you scream out in ecstasy and delicious pain “fuck Aaron!”

“Mmmm” He moans your name over and over as you ride him like a race and you feel your coil almost snap but you keep going you want him to cum first you want to feel his cock twitch and release

“fu-fuck baby I’m -fuck I’m gonna cum” he breathlessly moans into your mouth

“cum Aaron…please cum in me you have full permission” his eyes roll back as you grab his neck and ride him even faster and with his full length inside you he screams your name as you feel his cock twitch inside you and the feeling of his release forces you over the edge and you clench his cock milking every drop of his cum inside you. You stay there breathlessly on his lap just leaning into his forehead “definitely the best photshoot I’ve ever done” you giggle and he laughs “this is my first and definitely the best photshoot I’ve ever been involved in.” You laugh into each other and you start to untie his hands still on his lap….and as you look at him you start to remember one unfortunate fact….this man that just lit your entire body on fire is leaving in the morning and as if he can read your thoughts again he says “if you don’t have any other plans tonight…would you want to spend it together?” You find it adorable as if you could ever say no to such an offer, you smile “of course I would. I thought you’d never ask…and it just so happens I have an appartment on top of this studio….ready and waiting for a night of movies and dinner and a whole lot more of what we just did if I’m lucky” you wink as he laughs and its like music to your ears “sounds incredible” you take his hand and lead him up stairs….you have no idea what will come between the two of you but you are gonna appreciate this night as much as you possibly can and save that smile of his, in your mind forever.

[meelusinee]

I just read a new number and I want more please :) 

SILK PAJAMAS | R.L X READER

word count \ 1.0k | fluffy fluff | slash / remus lupin x reader

in which you and remus are talking after his full moon

part one | part two

Peter and Sirius were watching Remus with a close eye as he laid on his bed.

It was a morning after a full moon, a rather rough one. He had banged into a lot of different things, to say the least. Scars were newly pressed against his chest and legs. His teeth also probably hurt to a certain extent too, since one of them got chipped while he was biting something. 

All of this, yet he was staring at his phone.

“Oh my God, mate!” Sirius said incredulously, sitting down on Remus’ bed. He grunted as Remus kicked him, frowning at Remus.

“What?” Remus asked him, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m a dying man, Sirius.”

“Obviously not!” Sirius said to him, hands slapping his own knees. “You just got back from being a werewolf, and you’re already back on your phone. Who are you even talking to? Some girl?”

“Oh, fuck off!” Remus said, smacking a pillow against Sirius. “And get off my bed!”

“I think what Sirius means is that he’s mildly confused,” Peter butted in, his shaking pointer finger held up. “I mean, you still need to recover. And phones sound really dangerous, all of the blue light stuff they have.”

“Especially with how much you’ve been texting on it recently!” Sirius sighed, resting his hand on the bed as he leaned back. “I mean, come on! It’s been a whole month, and you’ve been non stop texting. We barely talk anymore!”

Remus sighed softly, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.” Remus shrugged, continuing to text. “And we do talk, you’re just dramatic.”

“Who are you texting?” Sirius asked, more curious than teasing. “I want to know.”

“Someone I met at my bakery job.” Remus said calmly, texting you another message before putting his phone down with a sigh. “She has to go.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter said, sitting down on his bed that was across from Remus’ bed.

“What’s her name?” Sirius asked him.

Remus smiled softly, laying down on his back as he began to speak about you. “Y/N. She’s absolutely brilliant.”

“Yeah?” Peter asked. 

“Mhm.” Remus nodded with a soft smile. “You don’t understand. I mean, she’s so smart. She’s, well, sometimes she rambles to me about her ideas. I think she’ll become famous.”

Sirius chuckled quietly, crossing his arms. “Somebody’s got a crush.”

“Whatever.” he rolled his eyes. “Now get out, I want to sleep.”

Remus woke up to the evening sun flitting through his room, his phone vibrating next to his hand. He could feel his heartbeat racing at the sound.

His hands quickly unlocked it and smiled as he saw your messages, texting back immediately after reading your rambles about work and school books.

REMUS: Sorry I didn’t respond to these sooner sweetheart, I was taking a nap.

REMUS: That muffin at work sounds absolutely lovely, so does that cute kid who you gave a high five.

You texted him back almost immediately after, bringing a small smile to his face.

Y/N: youre good mr phone bread man! you need your naps

REMUS: I will never get over Mr. Phone Bread Man, you know. I might have to start signing my paperwork with that name.

Y/N: i think that you should, in my opinion

Remus chuckled quietly at that. He always felt his heart pounding whenever he texted you. Maybe Sirius was right, maybe he did have a crush. A rather big one, if he was being honest.

REMUS: I think so too. How are you doing now?

Y/N: im doing good now! im home, and i have some pajamas on now thank god

REMUS: That sounds really nice. I have pajamas too, they’re rather bland though.

Y/N: i think you look cute anyways >:D

REMUS: You can’t even see them.

Y/N: i can tell regardless, your cute face would make anything look cute

Y/N: do you want to see mine?

Remus looked at the phone for a moment with a blush growing on his face, biting his lip as he looked at the message. Did he want to see that? Obviously yes. Would you be comfortable with that? Would he be breathing after seeing them?

REMUS: Only if you’re comfortable with that.

Y/N: im very comfortable with it

Y/N: do you like them?

Remus felt his heart beating out of his chest once he saw them. A white silk set that made you look like a pure angel, with small ruffles on the collar of the tank top and the bottom of the shorts.

REMUS: They look very lovely.

REMUS: Soft, you know?

Remus could almost hear the teasing chuckle in your voice as you texted him again, his body shivering slightly as he continued looking at the photo of your pajamas.

Y/N: you dont have to act all fancy or hip, you know

Y/N: i dont mind you saying something direct

Remus felt his throat drying. You didn’t mind? He wasn’t sure what you meant by direct, though he knew what he meant. And he was almost positive that all the things he wanted to say were not things you say to someone you’ve only known for a month.

REMUS: You look absolutely breathtaking.

Y/N: youre making me giggle :c

REMUS: Isn’t that a good thing?

Y/N: oh definitely, i just like being dramatic

Y/N: i take your breath away huh?

Remus smiled at your messages, able to hear your voice saying those exact words. He’d heard them a million times whenever you come to the bakery, both of you chatting on off days.

He decided to be honest with you, at least to a certain degree.

REMUS: You stole it from me the moment that I first heard your voice. And you’ve kept it ever since the first time that I saw you.

He waited for a couple of moments. Staring at his phone, watching your typing bubble appear and disappear for three minutes.

Y/N: you make me feel that way too <3

And wasn’t that just the sweetest thing anyone had said to him? 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for requesting anon! hopefully you like the part two to this!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! have a good day!