#even if he wants to be friendly with Error

[thetroubledpencil]

"It's pretty hard to ignore he's my father when I have his face"

Paperjam angst because I thought it would fit him

Song: Like Him - Tyler ,The Creator

Paperjam by @7goodangel

Ink by @comyet

Error by @ loverofpiggies

[moonfurthetemmie]

Atrophy

Having a SIGNIFICANTLY better time! also i had to go scroll though my blog because I couldn't remember if I talked about Lucidity and his evil gay polycule here yet. I thought i did but i wasn't sure. and then they made me make and eat dinner

anyways perceive him again. look at him. ooo ahhh pretty man

No longer looks like a hobo. Probably helps that he's actively taking care of himself.

Uses Dream's signature weapon still

Actually quite likes himself, but also takes himself way too seriously sometimes

disrespect can result in anger or just a moment of utter confusion. what do you MEAN you don’t respect me?? (Nightshade is the only exception. but only because he knows Nightshade is doing it because he loves him)

Quite spiffy, I must say. Actually bothers to look presentable. Probably amenable to letting Nightshade pick out clothes for him, SOMETIMES. Not every day. Not every day Nightshade. put those away.

probably still wears stuff Nightshade got for him on a semi-regular basis, whether Nightshade says something or not

also since he doesn't absolutely despise the two that fused to become Him, he has no issues with looking like either of them. Some days he dresses more like on than the other.

Switches between Ani's charm and Obsidian's iconic necklace. Would wear both at once, but isn't sure how to do that without it looking weird.

Still kind of emotionally constipated. Nightshade’s gonna bully him (lovingly)

May or may not still have particular affection towards Jasper. If yes, I am fascinated by the implications. Also that probably means whatever is going on with Entropy and his version of Jasper is probably much deeper and possibly more concerning than it looks.

It's notably easier for him to come to a balance that lets him summon storms. he's totally normal about that. nightshade is also very normal about it.

some of the bits at the end i'm pretty sure hasn't been shared in the discord server yet. so. oopsies? there was another thing i was going to add to it, too, but i don't remember what it was now...oh well.

Atrophy is more affectionate than Shale, but has a harder time opening up than Lucidity. So he's like. moderately emotionally constipated

Also, Shale is very violent and rough, whereas Lucidity is generally more gently and chill. This makes for a very interesting combination when he’s doing stuff like, oh, spending time with Nightshade, trying to get Nightmare to stay in the manor with them…that sort of thing. Fighting’s more or less the only exception.

While he’s generally chill about the fusion thing, he still would like to un-fuse. But it’s more of a “Hm. Things were more fun when there were three of us.” Thing that absolutely despising both ‘halves’ of himself, and by extension his entire existence. Having said that, Lucidity and Shale would probably be amenable to fusing again; especially with how powerful they were

although the entire polycule is very curious if Lucidity and Nightshade could fuse

In regards to Nightmare, Atrophy is generally a lying bastard. Some of his promises he does somewhat intend on keeping. He promises to make sure no one will ever hurt him again, and that, if he can manage to unfuse, Nightmare and Lucidity can stay together prettty much forever. He promises that they’ll all make sure Nightmare never wants for anything again, never has to be on the run again, so on.

The thing is, Atrophy’s idea of hurting Nightmare, in this context, is only physical harm.

Mental/emotional harm by manipulation? Nahhh that’s not real (he knows it's real. But he’s pretending it isn’t, around Nightmare). Subtly/gently coercing Nightmare into doing something he doesn’t actually want to do? Well if he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t have said yes at all <33

He’s way too good at getting most of the desired reactions out of Nightmare, which is a combination of Shale being a manipulative little bastard and Lucidity having known Nightmare their whole lives. He would also let Nightshade gently push Nightmare into doing something

Fortunately (?) for Nightmare, part of the reason Atrophy’s trying to get Nightmare to say yes instead of just going ahead and doing things is because of how often Shale avoids doing certain things because Lucidity would be upset. Particularly in regards to Nightmare.

“Having some fun” with Lucidity’s childhood friend was never worth losing his boyfriend such a useful ally

Unfortunately, Shale’s influence is why Atrophy is pushing in the first place

Nightmare keeps freezing up instead of running when Atrophy tries to get him to stay at the manor. Cross and Error are slowly becoming Nightmare’s only reason for staying away; even if they’re not right there.

It still got steadily worse as Atrophy managed to get Nightmare alone more and more, but that also meant it was becoming increasingly clear to Nightmare that Atrophy did not like Cross and Error. At all. Like. Nightmare is genuinely afraid for their lives.

If he ever does start to cave, he’s going to make Atrophy do a few things for him before he comes to the manor.

Nightmare knows there’s several people in the manor who can’t leave, because Shale (and presently Atrophy) won’t let them. Nightmare needs to be able to leave when he wants, for whatever reason.

In no way can Atrophy be a reason why Cross and Error get hurt. He can’t hurt them himself, he can’t get someone else to do it, he can’t lure them into danger or danger to them, or anything else. Not intentionally, not as a ‘suggestion’, not a ‘ohhh nightmare said I can’t hurt Cross and Error. Be a shame if something still happened to them wink’. Nightmare tries to cover as many possible loopholes as he can, but he’s afraid he’s still missing some.

Atrophy has to prove to Nightmare that he can be trusted. which is going to be quite difficult. Especially since he’s hesitating to agree to Nightmare’s terms now that Nightmare told him to prove he can be trusted :3

Champ is SO confused for a while. who is this??? Why does he smell like Lucidity but also Shale but also not quite either??? What is going on where's his human*

Atrophy is just as affectionate with Champ as Lucidity was, which most of the rest of the manor is quietly snickering about. what was that about not liking the loud husky, Shale?

Also, since Atrophy's status as a fusion means that, technically, Lucidity and Shale do not exist while he is here, he kinda misses them. Which is a really weird feeling. He is them, but he also feels like some of the people he loves are Missing.

he expresses this to Nightshade, who bites his lip and goes "i wasn't going to say anything, but. same. it's a shame I can't have you and dream and obsidian at the same time." and then does an over-dramatic sigh

atrophy thinks this is very funny

*he's not human but y'all know that already

[kirain]

My favourite bit of BG3 lore is that Withers is legitimately responsible for the Dead Three, but he's probably too embarrassed to tell you, so every time you ask him to elaborate he just gives you a very stern, "Noooo."

I also love that the reason he's responsible for their uprising is because he got bored. He literally got bored of his position as Lord of the Dead and wanted to retire, so when these three morally questionable humans came looking for godhood he was like, "Hmmm. Yes, okay. Here. Take my portfolios. Fight over them. I don't care. I quit."

So after bowling with skulls in a friendly competition to decide who would get what portfolio, they took up his powers and wreaked havoc on the world. Only at that moment did Jergal, AKA Withers, AKA our precious Bone Daddy think, "I'm just now, internally, asking myself, in quite a worried way, whether I might've made an error."

So he joins your merry band and watches your escapades, calmly twiddling his fingers while you clean up his mess. He's happy to lend his aid, even to the point that he'll bring Durge back to life if they reject Bhaal, even though he technically shouldn't. But he's Withers. The rules don't apply to him. If Ao doesn't like it, he can descend from the Heavens and say it to his rotting face.

And the reason he saves Durge isn't necessarily because he likes them or because he's a morally good entity (though one certainly could make that argument), but because he wants to add insult to injury. He steals Bhaal's child with a big smile on his face, dubs them his Chosen, and praises them for rejecting all the power they were promised. But of course, he still doesn't tell them who he is—or rather who he was.

Then, when all is said and done, he throws Tav and their companions a cute little party. No one knows it's probably half a thank you party and half a "Withers is bored again" party. And if anyone misbehaves, he'll get irritated and whisk them away. Because how dare they? He put a lot of work into that.

And at the end of it all, he walks up to a mural of the Dead Three and basically goes, "Lmao. Thou didst fuck around, and thou didst find out." Just savagely roasting them.

And then poof!

He waves them into non-existence.

[rottingghosty]

The Ghostling of Space | DC X DP

i’m working on the next part of the realms pr au trust me i am but i got this tiktok my fyp and suddenly i’m thinking of a NEW au for dc x dp. video is at the end i came up with this at 2am (like usual) so there will be errors

prompt: Danny’s the Ancient of Space, he spends most of his time floating around space because he’s on a vacation by his council to enjoy his life as a baby ghostling and a young prince since he’s still too young to rule so he has someone as a regent (not sure who yet). So he’s just going around, passing various planets and solar system. He’s essentially swimming around because he looks more like a mer than a human.

Danny should’ve realized that someone was going to notice him at some point, he didn’t realize it’d be a few years after Clockwork had spat him out in this universe. He’d been enjoying his time witnessing the birth of stars, of nebulas being born and the death of a solar system. The universe he was in made his core thrum with life, he’s gotten to feed it heavily that it puts his main obsession on the back burner. He skims his finger tips through the stardust of a star that had been born, molding and shaping it until it joins its brethren to form a constellation for the planet he was curled around.

The planet had no life yet but he knew that would change one day, he could feel its core yawning and turning. It’d get its push once Life had the opportunity to focus on it and breathe into the core. He was balance, his essence seeping into the planet’s core as he does his part of aiding the formation of a baby solar system. His body twists as he swims languidly through the vaccum as he does flips and turns. Moving through space with his newly formed tail felt like he was in the ocean, the movement so naturally and freeing.

It’d been when he finally drifted away from it and towards the Earth that was so similar to his back in his own universe he could never return that someone picked up his presence.

It’d been when he finally shrunk from his rather large size to something relatively smaller as he curled around a moon near Uranus. Away from any prying eyes as he allows himself to drift off into sleep.

It’d take someone to had been looking at one of Uranus’ moons to realize that something was curled around one, something large and green.

Captain Marvel could only stare in awe at the figure that curled around one of the moon’s of Uranus. The figure was beautiful, pale green skin that seemed to glow before dimming and brightening again. They seemed eel like if the way they seemed to move their body to curl around the moon of Titania. Where legs would have started, instead goes into an void of darkness, with a green glow that was a sickeningly shade of bright green that dimmed and brightened.

It was beautiful as it was eerie. The glow seemed to start from the hips and continued down its sides and tail, the fins flaring every time the creature seemed to breathe. A fin from at the top of the spine and continued down the entire back until it reached a stop before the end of its tail.

Captain Marvel knew that the other members in the Justice League were in awe just as he is, something about this being screamed otherworldly. It screamed magic and it made him very being thrum with energy he’s never felt before. He wanted to say something, to speak about what would be the best course of action to take to see if this being was a friendly or a hostile. Before he could even say a word, Constantine released a curse.

“Why is there a bloody baby ghost of the Infinite Realms here?”

TLDR: danny is very much a baby ghost prince living his life watching everything in space and making new things. he’s basically the equivalent of a baby god playing toys (planets and solar systems) and has no idea that he’s giving the JL and JLD a heart attack because oh my god that’s a baby ghost. but also OH MY GOD THAT’S THE BABY GHOST OF THE HIGH KING. still unsure who takes on the role for danny, pandora? cw? frostbite? a random oc? i know people use jazz as a regent but shes like a teen and deserves to live her life without having to deal with ghostly duties.

now danny’s got these people wanting to care for him cause he’s just out in the open in space and they don’t want the high king to get upset if their son is hurt.

(clockwork finds it very funny because if anything, they have to worry about upsetting anyone who danny deems as his)

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[whambamsami]

private show

summary: your shitty boyfriend wants to go to a strip club for his birthday. one of the dancers is desperate to give you the attention you deserve. stripper!bucky pt.1

pt.2 pt.3

warnings: 18+, adult themes, eventual smut, language, alcohol, let me know if i miss anything!

note: not proofread, so sorry if there's any errors/plot holes! let me know if there's anything i should fix <3

You didn’t want to be here.

Not in the dimly lit, velvet-drenched VIP lounge of a high-end strip club your boyfriend had insisted on for his birthday. Not in the too-tight dress he told you to wear. Not beside him while he ogled other women like you weren’t even there.

“Loosen up,” Nick said, draping his arm around you, with that smile that had won you over months ago, but now just rubbed you the wrong way. “It’s my birthday party.” 

You’d smiled too. Barely. Enough to keep the peace.

He’d begged for this, told you only an insecure woman wouldn’t let him go on his birthday. Hell, he’d even wanted you to tag along.

You thought he wanted you to come with him and his belligerent friends to see that it wasn’t all that bad, to make you more comfortable.

But you were starting to think he got off on making you watch. 

He was generous enough to at least take you to a club that let both genders dance alike, and it was almost overwhelming, seeing men and women’s bodies, some fully exposed, some adorning tiny leather getups, gyrating on stage.

Your boyfriend, the perfect gentleman. 

And he wonders why you won’t take him home to meet your parents.

His friends are all practically howling at a woman onstage, pushing your boyfriend up to get closer to her. She’s wearing nipple pasties, crotchless panties, a pair of stilettos that have you fearing for her ankles, and a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Not that Nick would notice. He never noticed that kind of thing when it came to women. That, or he didn’t care.

“You won’t mind if I get a private dance, will you, babe?”

You wanted to feel angry at him. For him to see just how fucked this entire situation was. You should be feeling more.

But you just felt disgust. He made your skin crawl. You couldn’t give a shit about what he did here. He’d lost you the second he suggested this. 

So you nod tightly. An apology flashes in the woman’s eyes as she slinks off the stage next to him. 

You can’t be mad at her. It’s just business. 

And honestly, the fact that someone else would be filling in for you tonight, pretending to derive any pleasure from whatever Nick planned on doing, was a relief. You weren’t sure you would have it in you.

Not wanting to hear what his pitiful friends had to say about the situation you now found yourself in, you made a break for the bar, flagging down a topless bartender and politely asking for one of the craft cocktails. 

Hey, at least you could get something out of tonight. 

The bartender returned with your cocktail in hand. On the house, he’d said. You wished he was just being friendly, but the look in his eyes told you what this really was.

Pity. 

Whatever. The drink was good. Strong. Exactly what you needed to dull your senses a little, to get your mind off how you even ended up in this club in the first place. 

As you sipped, admittedly a bit faster than you should, the music shifted- bass-heavy and seductive.

The next performer was about to take the stage. 

You turned to face the velvet curtains that hid whoever was up next. Maybe you could pick up a few things, some tips that you could bring to your next relationship.

Your next boyfriend would be more appreciative, you promised yourself.

Better in bed, too. 

The second you saw him, though, everything else blurred.

Huh. A male performer.

All’s fair, right?

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark stubble shadowing a wicked mouth. Ice-blue eyes that swept the room with slow, calculated confidence. His body was lethal, dressed in nothing but black dress pants and a white button-down-half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, like sin in motion.

Your breath caught.

The performer didn’t smile. Not at first. 

But you swear he made eye contact with you.

And when he did, he flashed his canines. Just for a second. Like he knew every dirty thought that was flashing in your head. Like he knew something you didn’t.

The lights dim. The music gets louder. Or maybe everything else gets quieter, you’re not sure.

And suddenly, he’s all you could see.

He walks onto the stage like he’s stalking prey-calm, confident, dangerous. Not a trace of performance in his stride. He doesn’t play it for laughs or gimmicks. He doesn’t wink. He hunts.

The music pulses dark and slow. He unbuttons his shirt one button at a time, each flick of fabric revealing warm, taut muscle, tattoos, scars, shadows that make your mouth dry.

He glances down-just once-and finds your eyes again in the dark.

You squeeze your thighs together, shift again, try to look anywhere else-but it’s no use. He knows what he’s doing. He knows he’s got you.

He unzips his pants. Just an inch. Just enough to make your exhale stutter.

And the second you breathe out, his tongue drags across his bottom lip.

You’re going to combust.

“There you are!” 

You’re snapped out of whatever spell he had you under.

Your boyfriend returned from his little dance, wearing a smile that was a little too wide. Nick and his friends surrounded you at the bar, cutting off what you could see of the performance, much to your disappointment. You didn’t even care when you saw him whispering excitedly to his buddies, when you watched them pat him on the back like he’d won some kind of game, when their eyes would dart over to you like you didn’t know any better. 

Like you were stupid.

You steal a glance at the stage to try and catch the end of the man’s performance, but all you see is the swish of curtains closing as he disappears backstage.

Could this night get any worse?

As if the bartender could read your mind, he appeared again, placing what appeared to be a very expensive bottle of chilled champagne in front of you. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t order-”

“On the house.” he stated simply, as if you should have known. The little gold name tag that rested low on his waistband told you his name was Sam. 

God, at least the service here was great. 

Nick and his friends hooted and hollered, reaching for the bottle, excited to grab a glass, but Sam stopped them, pulling the bottle just far enough out of reach. 

“Sorry, boys, but I’m under strict instructions that this is for the lady only. No sharing.”

Your boyfriend’s lips pursed. 

“What, did somebody roofie that or something? Babe, you’re not drinking that. I don’t trust it.” and to solidify his point, he wrapped his arm around you. His sweaty, gross arm. 

You hated that he still felt like he could touch you like this. 

“Actually, sir, that bottle is for her to take to one of the private rooms. This doesn’t happen often, but she’s been asked to join one of our dancers.”

Your stomach dipped.

The champagne sparkled in the light, a little ribbon of condensation sliding down the glass like it knew how flustered you felt.

“She’s been… what?” Nick scoffed, voice rising with laughter he clearly didn’t feel. “Asked to join a dancer?”

Sam nodded, unbothered. You could have sworn you saw a glimpse of a smile on his face, like he was secretly enjoying this. 

“That’s right. Bucky requested her personally.” You could have sworn you saw a glimpse of a smile on his face, like he was secretly enjoying this. “Very rare, especially for him. I’d take it as a compliment.”

Nick scoffed again, turning to you like it was some kind of joke. 

“You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”

You blinked. Slowly. 

Then you looked down at his arm around your waist-the one that had gotten too heavy, too tight, too possessive over time-and peeled it off like it burned.

“You got a dance too, right?” you said evenly, reaching for the neck of the bottle, “At least mine is free.”

Nick’s friends laughed awkwardly. He didn’t.

“He’s probably just trying to upsell you some bullshit champagne fantasy. It’s a trick.”

Sam snorted as he grabbed two champagne flutes.

“Yeah, well. If it is, it’s working.”

Nick reached for your waist, and for once, you were thankful that he was so fucking sweaty all the time, because it let you slip out of his grip. 

“You don’t know what kind of guy he is.”

That made you laugh. It sounded more bitter than you’d ever heard it.

“He’s a stripper, Nick. Not exactly looking for Prince Charming right now. But whatever kind of guy he is, it looks like he’s interested in treating me a bit better than you are.”

Then you turned, grabbed the bottle, and followed Sam toward the back, heart hammering, adrenaline singing through your veins.

You didn’t know what was waiting for you behind the curtain.

But whatever it was?

It had to be better than this.

[nebulousmoon3990]

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

I 𓂃› GHOSTS

Warning: neglect (unintentional), Damian being Damian, violence, blood, swearing, sensitive topics, writing errors (English is not my first language) and reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry),Fem reader!, I accept criticism but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

You consider yourself a good son

I mean, you were never a saint, there were times when you did stupid things and got into trouble with her, but you always managed to solve them. But apparently the universe decided that you weren't good enough.

Not for your family at least.

You were just another product of your father's affair, the only difference is that you were born (something that wasn't supposed to happen) but that's okay! Your mother still loved you and took care of you with all the love she had to offer.

She never spoke openly about your father, but you saw on TV the news about your mother, the great writer from Gotham, with the businessman Bruce Wayne. You were always smart and quickly connected the dots but you didn't question your mother because she was clearly uncomfortable, so you kept quiet and let it go, because you didn't need him. You already had your mother, you already had your uncles, even your little friends from school! You don't need your father.

That is until she died.

It was when you were four years old, you had gone to the market to buy things for dinner and on the way a criminal tried to steal them, your mother trying to protect you ended up with a bullet in the chest, you remember little, but you remember that he ran away while your mother died in front of you. After that you thought you were going to be sent to an orphanage, believe your surprise when your father came to take you home. The first time you saw him you were surprised by how much alike you were: same hair, same eyes, your face was really your mother's, but your skin was his, you were a perfect mix of your mother and your father, at the time you loved it but now... you are not so sure.

When you arrived at the mansion, you met your half-siblings. You were so excited. You always wanted a sibling, since you spent a lot of time alone. The possibility of having siblings made you very happy. The first was Dick: a bright smile and the sunshine of the family. Dick was friendly with you and at least bothered to ask a little about you, like your age or when your birthday was. But the next day, he completely forgot about you. Even though he lived in Bludhaven, he visited the mansion often. Of all your siblings, you felt the most excluded by him. While he said that family was the most important thing, he ignored you. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but what's the point of apologizing for not being there if you don't change anything?

The second was Tim: the Robin of the time. Tim was just... Tim, he was never that neglectful with you, but he didn't try to get closer either. He had no opinion for you. You would say that Tim was observant, quiet, and cold. He would help you if he saw that you needed help, the problem was that he was never there, so he never had time for you (like everyone else).

The third was Jason: in your opinion he was your favorite, Jason was the one in the house who gave you some attention. It wasn't always, but when he came to the mansion he really cared about asking about you.

"Why are you so skinny?" "Are you doing well in your studies?" "Is someone bothering you, brat?" and things like that. Jason wasn't that close but he was never distant either, that's why he was your favorite, but just like Tim he was never there when you needed him, since he couldn't stay at the mansion much (you believe that part of the blame is Bruce).

Then came the rest of your siblings, Barbara was always busy like Bruce and Dick, Cassandra and Stephanie weren't interested in you, and Duke never exchanged more than two or three words with you.

And then to top it all off came Damian: your younger brother. You thought that even though Damian was Al Grul's (trained to kill and all) maybe, just maybe, you two could have a good relationship.

Oh, how terribly wrong you were.

And you realized it the moment Damian almost cut your throat with his sword. That day Damian was reprimanded by Bruce while Dick was taking care of his neck, from what you understood Damian thought he needed to kill you to become Robin. 

You, a civilian, almost wanted to laugh at his presumption that you could be a vigilante when you couldn't even lift your backpack properly. After that day you didn't get close to Damian again, the fear of him doing something to you terrified you to the core. Damian realized it, you knew it by the looks he gave you, but whether it was pride or shame he never apologized to you.

Bruce never had time for you, wrapped up in work and as Batman his time was precious and he had to spend it on what was necessary, and you understood that.

You understood all of them.

But...it still hurt.

It hurt your soul a lot.

That's why you stopped trying to impress them, stopped enrolling in classes they liked just to get their attention, stopped bothering them to get some family time. You gave up, simple as that, the family didn't care, probably not even knowing about it.

There was Alfred, who probably spent the most time with you, acting like a grandfather. But Alfred is also Bruce's butler and the sidekick to Gotham's heroes, he couldn't spend all his time with you either (you accepted that, it was okay).

But sometimes there were rare moments that happened, moments when they cared, when you saw a little bit of love from them towards you.

Like when Jason gave you one of his sweatshirts for your birthday, one that you really liked (you still wear it to this day, it's still too big on you).Or when you didn't have a partner for your history project since no one was your friend, so Dick and Tim spent half the night helping you with it. Or when school bullies beat you up, you went back to the mansion (which was empty) with a black eye, just so Damian could see you. By some miracle, you convinced him not to tell Bruce, thinking that the matter had died there, you went back to your room only for Damian to knock on your door in the middle of the night and give you a pair of brass knuckles for you to use next time (you never used them, but knowing that he cared was comforting).

I think the most important of these moments was when Bruce showed up at your elementary school graduation. Thanks to your mother, you were more gifted than the others, advancing a few years in school, making you finish school before your age. Imagine: a pre-teen in the middle of almost adults with other adults looking at you (it's desperate) but you saw him, Bruce Wayne together with Alfred looking at you for the first time. He didn't stay until the end, but he was still there, he was there for you.

That's why you hated them.

How dare they? Play with your heart like that, giving you hope that maybe you could be a normal family, a happy family. You hated that, you hated having hope, you hated that they cared and then left you aside.

And what you hate the most is that every time you fall for their talk.

That's why you're taking some time for yourself, far away from them at your aunt's house. In two weeks it will be your fourteenth birthday and you decided this time to spend it with your aunt, to try to forget about your life in Gotham with your family (besides, it had been years since you saw her, it was time to get over the longing).

You told her well in advance, already planning it since the beginning of the month, so now at the train station you didn't feel any worries as you got on the bus.

You didn't tell your family, they wouldn't even care, you just told Alfred so that the poor man wouldn't have a heart attack if he didn't see you in the room.

Maybe if you had told them, this wouldn't have happened.

Dick loves his family.

No matter how many problems they have, he will always love them, family is everything to him.

So why these days has he felt like he's forgetting something?

Was it training with Damian? No, that was for tomorrow, maybe patrol with Bruce? That was impossible to forget, could there have been something with Tim? He doesn't remember his brother asking him for something, maybe Cass? She said a friend was going to have his birthday-

birthday.

(Name's) birthday.

The realization hit him like a train, that was it! His birthday, he had completely forgotten about it, when will it be? If he remembers, will it be in two weeks? You're going to be-

How old are you again?

No, that's absurd, he knows how old you are, he would be stupid not to. You must be twelve? No! Thirteen? But he doesn't remember your thirteenth birthday.

In fact, he doesn't remember any of your birthdays.

Okay, maybe he doesn't remember now, but he was definitely there for your birthday, he's your big brother! Why wouldn't he be?

Okay, he decided that as soon as he finished patrolling with the rest of the family he would talk to everyone about it.

As he jumped between the rooftops his phone vibrated loudly, but he didn't bother to look at it, he would check it later.

Hurry up Dick, before it's too late.

Tim was monitoring the batcave today, helping with location and crimes remotely. Today would be a normal patrol, too calm. Tim hated these patrols, too calm and preparing for the storm.

This time a hurricane would come and no one would be prepared.

The first to arrive was Jason, who came just to help with the investigation of a particular case. He leaned on the table next to Tim and watched the cameras and sensors on the television he controlled. The second was Bruce and Damian. Bruce went to talk to Alfred and Damian went to the table in the center where Tim's phone was. Tim, listening to Dick's message, who was near the mansion, almost didn't hear the youngest Wayne talking.

"Someone's calling you." Tim looked at Damian, who turned on his phone. Without worrying, he went back to the computer. "I can answer later." Damian apparently wasn't satisfied and turned on the phone only to see that the flames were his, his name engraved on the screen. "It's our sister's." "Cass's?"

"(Name's)" Now that caught Jason's attention. He looked at the youngest Wayne. For some reason, a bad feeling took over him, the same feeling that something bad was going to happen. "Oh, that's it. I'm kind of busy here. Can you see what she wants for me?"

Grimacing, Damian would have put the phone down, but something inside him told him to check, to check, so he picked up the phone and unlocked it to find over twenty missed calls from him “oh my”

“What’s wrong?” Bruce approached the boys, having vaguely heard the conversation. “There are over twenty calls and at least fifteen messages” now that really caught everyone’s attention.

“What?” Jason answered for everyone, breaking the silence that settled in the room, but Damian didn’t bother to answer, instead going to the messages, he was going to go through them when a word caught his attention.

Help 

Just with that the bad feeling inside Damian grew, his behavior changing and showing the others that the matter was serious “Oh shit."

“What’s going on” Dick finally arrived, only to find the tense atmosphere in the room, as he walked Damian went through the messages finding words like “help” “help” “invaded” and “bus”

“Damian what happened” he opened the voicemail, seeing many of them only in the last hour, he put it on maximum volume for him and the others to hear.

"T-Tim please pick up" your voice came out shaky, low almost in a whisper and desolate, full of fear "I-I... I tried calling Dick a-and even Bruce" the sobs of your voice were restricted by your mouth, sighing heavily a bang was heard on the other end startling you "I-I need help... p-please" and so the voicemail ended

“The mansion was invaded?!” Jason didn’t ask anyone in particular, but Tim went to see the footage of the mansion for the last few hours anyway. “No, no one came into the house.”

“Where is she?” Dick was quick to pick up the phone, just like Damian, he came across at least twenty voicemails for him. To get attention, Alfred coughed lightly and automatically everyone’s heads turned in his direction. “Master (Name) went out to spend her birthday with her aunt who lives in New York.”

And that’s how chaos exploded.

The next minute, everyone’s voices echoed through the cave. “What?!” “What do you mean?!” “When did she tell you that!?” Bruce replied as he walked towards Tim’s computer. “She didn’t tell you anything, Alfred, why didn’t you tell me?”

Alfred looked at his master, almost exploding at such stupidity, he knew Bruce didn't have time for you but he also made it clear that he didn't care about you, it was no surprise that you hadn't even warned him before, but respecting you (and master Bruce) he answered. "Master (Name) thought it wasn't necessary, he told me only if you gentlemen asked for her." Tim went back to the computer, now not scanning the streets of Gotham, but looking for you, Dick scrolled through the voicemail and clicked on the most recent one, made 15 minutes ago, his voice once again filled the air making everyone hear you.

This time the line started in silence, only your agitated breathing being heard, it is possible to hear a whisper much quieter than before on the line "Dick please, I-I... I beg p-please, please, p-please, p-please, please-" you were silenced by the noise of something near you, your breathing was weak, footsteps echoed wherever you were, you approached the phone and whispered into the cell phone "save me" when you finished speaking voices approached and then a scream came from you, your phone fell somewhere far from you but even so it was possible to hear your screams and your fight for the cell phone until the line finally ended

“Holy shit…” tension built up in the room, the family was completely stunned by the line, Jason was the first to go looking for him, Dick tried to stop him but he went looking for him too, Damian and Bruce left soon after and Tim went back to his computer at full speed.

They need to find you, Now!

But it was too late

“Tim tell me you found her” Jason shouted on the line as he moved with Dick, the two of them as well as the rest were moving at each of the bus stops to look for their route, the result was nothing.

Tim huffed on the line, irritated with his brother. “If you stopped asking me every two minutes maybe I would find her”

“Your-”

“Enough fighting! That’s not the focus right now” Dick said to Jason and Tim, although his harsh tone gave him away showing how exasperated he was. “Our focus is to find (Name)” Jason looked ahead accepting his brother, they had to find her, he needed to.

Jason wouldn’t forgive himself if his sister died.

“I found her!” Tim shouted excitedly, the spark of hope on his face until he saw the bus where he was “oh no” his heart started beating faster, fear started to settle in his body, but he remained paralyzed without being able to move. 

“Tim? Tim, what happened? Tim saw on the computer the image of his bus fallen to the ground, with fire gathering around it. The red robin could only move when he heard Bruce's voice. With his fingers shaking, Tim sent the image of the accident to each person's cell phone.

Bruce could feel his heart beating out of his chest, the sight of the bus lying on the ground, burned and destroyed was enough to make his heart stop, Damian was in no different situation, all he could think about was your face, scared and afraid of him.

He wanted to see you.

Everyone wanted to see you, but it was too late.

The hurricane passed and destroyed everything

“This morning, news shook all of Gotham, a bus destined for New York was intentionally unloaded in the middle of the road. In total, of the twenty-two passengers, five were injured and seven were kidnapped, among those kidnapped was the second youngest daughter of the great businessman Bruce Wayne, (Name) Wayne, the police are investigating the case-” the television was turned off by Jason, who threw the remote control hard on the couch, now with all the brothers gathered (Barbara, Cass, Stephanie and Duke there too) they were waiting for news from Bruce, who went to a press conference to speak at home with Alfred. Dick, trying to calm his brother, approached him and put his hand on his shoulder “Jason, we're going to find her-”

“Are we going to find her? She might be dead now!” Jason said without thinking, but the mood in the room dropped even more than it already was. Both the guilt and the despair of losing you were what terrified not only Jason, but everyone in that room.

“She’s not dead.” Damian was the one who calmed the situation, approaching the two of them. “You saw it yourself, she was taken, but she’s alive.”

“And who can guarantee that she’s not dead, huh, demon?” The youngest Wayne narrowed his eyes. Jason was right too. Who can guarantee that she’s not already dead? Who can guarantee that she’s not already six feet under, buried?

“(Name) isn’t dead.” Bruce and Alfred entered the mansion. Wayne’s suit was all wrinkled, but he didn’t care. Maybe it was because he had more important things to worry about. “She isn’t dead, and we’re going to find her.”

“Even if it’s just her corpse.”

Oh, okay that was a lot of work to do, enjoy.

@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93

Tchau.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

ErROr

[2.]

Love and Deepspace Various! / Reader

《File welcomes you! Enter! ... Good Luck.》

-

-

Huming to the soft music playing in the cafe, you gently stir the brew. The smell of fresh bread and sweet syrups always lingering in the air.

You were glad for the calm evening, the morning rush had gone by rather quickly. Each order different than the last, yet you and youe colleuges made it through the first shift.

"Excuse me?" A polite voice pipes up. Giving the costumer your attention, your eyes widen at the familiar heroine hunter.

"Hello again! What can I get you Miss MC?"

You playfully smile, as the brunette beauty grins back at you.

"My usual, please."

"Alright, unicorn hair and a dish rag, comin' up!" You state innocently as her eyes widen. Her laughter lighting on the cafè as you turn away to the coffee cups.

Not seeing her lean her palm against her chin, eyeing the curve of your shoulder blades as stretch a arm up to the higher shelves.

'I wish I was that cup~!' She screamed iternally. This little haven of her's being the few solaces in her stressful life. Bringing out her phone, texting her friend, using every bit of sensabilty to not take photos of you.

-

You swoon openly, heart-eyed and face warm as you recount your feelings. Though, you knew telling the male of who your affections were for wouldn't make him bat an eye, (since he loved MC), it weirded you out at his strange behavior. Eyes slightly cold as his frown deepens into a pout.

You ignore it, knowing you had no chance with the love intrest. (At least you could swoon about the other male leads since they didn't know it was them you were talking about.)

"Hm? You okay?" You pause your rant, eyeing the blonde.

"...No."

"O-oh.." You head slightly lowered, toying with the holding trey. "A-ahm.. I'll just, get your order, Xavier." The friendly tone dying in your throat as you walk away. Frowning, know you shouldn't be pushing your luck. You'd at least hoped to be on friendly terms! You knew he wasn't as cold as he presented himself! But.. That was reserved for the MC only.

While wandering back to the kitchen, the blonde runs his fingers through his locks. Upset for being the cause of loosing your enthusiasm.

Jelousy spiking up quietly in his heart when recalling MC proudly showing off your number in her phone. Or hearing your sweet words of praise directed to someone else.

He'd have to find away to get it.

-

Sitting on the bar-stool, you eye the giant glass shard stuck in your leg. Trying to fake the pain, you were honestly nonchalant at the at the injury.

It couldn't really do damage.

Sweating slightly, you smiled nervously at the doctor.

Zayne carefully lifts your leg close to him, tenderly gripping your skin as he eyes injury.

"Okay... One, two... THREE." He stated, pulling out the glass stuck in your thigh. You blink, nothing, no scream, no blood... Nothing.

"...." The doctor blinks at you in disbelief. Shakily placing the shard down on the bar-counter.

"...Y.. Your body still must be in shock." The male rationalized, fingers digging into the flesh of your leg.

"O-oh... Y-yeah..." You hear the jingle of the cafè's door opening. Alerting the two of you as Zayne's body cages around you.

-

The painter eagerly pushes you down on one of the dressing room chairs. Smirking as MC walks into one the dressing rooms.

"You know... I think this color would look wonderfully on you." He spoke casually, sliding up closer to you. Holding up a shimmering blue dress with bits of jewels threaded into the seam.

You thought it looked really familiar to certain outfit of his-

"Huh.. I don't think it's my size though." You shrug, "the last outfit you handed me was a bit tight. I couldn't even pull the ziper up for the back."

You recall a few moments earlier, when MC eagerly wanted to take a selfie with you in that piece. Rafeyal immediately forwning and trying to push between you. To the point his hands pushing at your back away from the female Hunter.

Not seeing the grin he shot her when he carresed your naked lower spine.

"Though, I really wish you'd acompany me and Miss Bodygaurd to the exhibit."

"Oh? That's really nice of you to offer, but I-... Well.." You let a silly smile overtake your face. Dreamily sighing as you glace away, your heart couldn't take his pout.

"I.. uhm.. Got a date?"

-

Seeing that familiar smirk, you got another case of butterflies. Swallowing down your swooning, you notice a customer calling you over.

Passing by the male, you use all of your will power to ignore him. Eyes shinning with utter affection, you direct those feelings away. Greeting the costumer that called you eagerly.

Feelings still rampanging over your heart, you do your best to pay attention to the order.

Heading back to the counter, your co-worker writes down Sylus order as you start perparing the coffee.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to add on to my order. But may I have two smaller drinks with the order."

"Of course!" You pipe up, not daring to meet his gaze as you shake the syrup canister.

"Thank you, (Y/N)..."

He sounded out the name cheekily, with you heart fluttering about. You don't see that your name-tag was no longer on your shirt.

Instead, hidden within his coats pockets for safe-keeping.

-

[Hiya! I wrote this as a idea I had awhile ago! It was originally in the concept as a full fledege idea. But I scrapped it, sorry! Enjoy! Thanks for reading, if you wanna know more. Send in a ask!]

[newmoonlover009]

Distracted - Charlie Swan

“Just kiss me.”

Charlie Swan x Fem!Reader

Summary - Bella tasks you to keep Charlie distracted as she battles her new "sickness." You do as she says. In more ways than one.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, age gap (reader is 23), lying, subtle angst, quickie, fast-paced, kissing, slight grinding/dry humping, neck kissing, unprotected piv sex, a bit of cock warming, cream pie, the use of the words "cunt" and "cock," and the pet name "baby."

(Let me know if I missed any.)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes. Twilight au—details won’t be accurate to the films or books—they are rewritten to fit the story.

a/n - yippee, my first post on my multi-fandom account. In all honesty, I did not proofread this one shot as thoroughly as I usually do. So, apologies in advance if it seems rushed. Enjoy <3

Truth be told, you know of Bella’s… “condition.” 

Why she entrusts you with her secret—you don’t know. You’ve only known Bella briefly, having moved to Forks just a year before her return. When word spread that she’d be coming home, Charlie asked you personally to become her friend—a mentor of sorts, even. With long hours at the station, Charlie didn’t have the time to hover, even when he really wanted to. 

Bella liked to think Charlie didn’t hover, but he did. Even now. 

“Good morning, Chief Swan!” You yelled from your porch, greeting the Chief like you did every chance you got. The two of you had been neighbors for quite some time now since you moved in right across the street into the smallest house in the neighborhood with your mom.

“Mornin’.” Charlie’s gruff voice carried across the street. Usually, he’d disappear into his lonesome house, and only leave when he was called to the station. This time, however, he paused at his door in thought. You watched curiously as he turned around, immediately locking eyes with you, and cautiously approaching your quaint porch. 

“I hear your daughter is coming to town, Chief. That’s big news.” You offered conversation, still curious as to why he was purposely approaching you. Charlie was a kind man, and sometimes even friendly to outsiders, but he was still closed off. Perhaps it was your age that prompted him to maintain his distance—two decades is a large difference. Younger people probably freaked him out, you figured. 

“Yeah, I’m real excited.” Though, his unenthusiastic tone said otherwise. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, okay.” You remained an open mind, waiting for an elaboration of sorts. “What about?”

“In all honesty, I need you to do me a favor.” His tone was serious, not asking, but rather telling. You would’ve agreed either way. 

“Of course, what’s up?” It seemed as though he struggled to find the words to ask, his brows furrowed as he thought intently. 

“Bella hasn’t lived here since, well, a long time. She visits, sure, but other than that, she doesn’t know anyone here.” That didn’t surprise you, especially since you hadn’t seen her once since living there. What he said next, however, did surprise you. “I need you to keep an eye on her for me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re close in age, right? Maybe you can provide some… input in her life that I can’t.” Well, not quite close in age. She was 17. You were 21. 

“Oh, Chief Swan, I—”

“Charlie.” He corrected you.

“Charlie.” You repeated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Bella doesn’t know me, and quite frankly, I don’t know her. You do, though.” 

“Please?” He looked defeated—embarrassed that he had to enlist the help of his neighbor to welcome his teenage daughter. After seeing the silently begging look on his face, you couldn’t say no.

So, when she called you once the plane landed, returning from her short-lived honeymoon with Edward, your vision blurred and hearing rang as she whimpered the words “vampire” and “pregnant.” She informed you that tensions were high between the Cullens; debating whether she should keep it or… “get rid of it.” Alice, Edward, and Jacob strongly advocated for the latter. You, however, only knew that Bella needed a friend.

It kills you to keep a secret of this magnitude from Charlie—who’s been pacing back and forth since you arrived. Bella asked you to keep an eye on him—a trend in the Swan family, it seems—and to keep him distracted so he wouldn’t drive to the Cullen house himself and demand answers. 

“Charlie, please—”

“What do you mean I can’t see her? Is she okay?” His tone is frantic; worried. 

“She’s fine. She just contracted a virus and didn’t want to worry you. Clearly, it’s not working.”

“So why can’t she call me? Why are you the one telling me?” Because he’ll know something is wrong by the sound of her voice. 

“Because she wanted the information given in person. She thought you deserved more than a phone call.” You deserve the truth, you think to yourself, but you’ve made a promise to Bella.

“Where’s this medical facility? I’ll go there myself–” There is no medical facility. She’s shacked up at the Cullen house just miles away. 

“No, Charlie, you can’t. She didn’t even tell me, so there’s no way of you knowing.” You hate how the lies roll off your tongue with ease. He huffs in frustration at your answer, finally taking a seat on the couch while you stand just feet away in front of the television. Sorrow settles like a brick in your gut, so you sit in the empty spot just beside him, your hand landing on his shoulder to offer support. “I’m really sorry, Charlie, but you know she’s in the best hands. Edward–or Carlisle–won’t let anything bad happen to her.” 

“I know…” His voice trails off, uncertainty clear in his tone. He knows you’re right, but you also know that the protective dad in him can’t sit idly by. Your heart aches to see the way his eyes glaze over, his brows in a perpetual frown since Bella left for her honeymoon. The poor man hasn’t been the same since the wedding. 

His house is empty again and his routine has fallen back into what it was before she came home; working every chance he gets and ordering takeout every night. His incessant sullen gaze has returned; his eyes are no longer softer like they were when Bella was here. You feel her absence as well. The house is eerily quiet–colder than usual–and the smaller things that accumulated in their shared spaces have been packed away and moved. Alice took the liberty of packing Bella’s things. 

Your relationship–or rather acquaintance–with Charlie has nearly withered since her departure. There’s no need to speak to him unless it’s to relay a message, like the unfortunate one you’re delivering now. Still, you greet him with a good morning, afternoon, and evening when you see him; which is rare. You quite enjoyed being a part of Charlie’s life, even if it was through Bella, and you felt as though you had finally cracked the man who would hardly speak to you since you moved in. 

“She’ll be okay. I promise.” It’s a stupid promise to make when you’re unsure of the outcome yourself. 

“I guess you’re right.” He lets out a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his face falling into his hands. 

You gently nod to yourself, taking that as your sign to leave. You’ve done all that you can at the moment; told him of Bella’s “sickness,” given him peace of mind, and ensured that he wouldn’t attempt to see her in person. All things Bella instructed you to do. You feel terrible knowing Charlie’s original plan was for you to watch over Bella, and now it’s been completely flipped in the opposite direction. 

“I should get going.” You announce, patting his shoulder and grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else from her.”

Charlie nods, his warm eyes finding yours. He lifts himself from the couch with a gentle huff and stands to walk you to the door, as he always does. As you mirror his movements, the two of you face each other, subtle awkwardness creeping into the space between you. He’s decently taller than you, forcing your head to tilt back as you match his gaze. His eyes are masking a million different emotions, just screaming to be let out, so you provide the only form of comfort you can think of. Lifting your arms from your sides to reach toward him, his watchful eyes observe your actions as you lazily wrap them around his waist. 

His body freezes, stunned by your affection, as you rest your head against his broad chest. Your cheek lays against his cotton T-shirt, saturated in his warm scent—woodsy, cinnamon, and smoky–as if he had just built a fire to combat the slowly approaching frost. A beat passes before you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, his head craning down to rest his scruffed cheek on the top of your head. His heart is pounding in his chest, the muffled sound knocking against your ear. As if to absorb his hurt, you hug him more firmly, your hands interlocking behind him as you adjust your grip. 

“Thank you for coming over.” His defeated voice finally speaks above you, and a hand soothingly rubs your shoulder. “It was nice seeing you again.” 

The feeling's mutual. The last real conversation you had with him was the wedding night. It hurt your feelings a bit; further confirming that Charlie was only interested in talking to you about Bella, nothing more. Sure, that was the deal, but you had hoped for more. Whatever “more” was, you still aren’t sure.

“Of course.” You breathe out, leaning back to look up at him, your arms still wrapped around him. “I hope to see you again soon. Under better circumstances.” 

“Me too.” He lets out a defeated chuckle, the humor absent. “Let me walk you out.”

Although, neither of you moves. His hands stay spread on the expanse of your back as his conflicted gaze bores into yours. An unspoken magnetic pull lures you to him, his eyes locking yours in a curious trance. Your stomach flips when he swiftly leans in, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. Mere milliseconds pass before his lips are ripped away; just as quickly as they had come. 

Your eyes widen and the grip you have on him releases as you take a precautionary step back. Jaw falling slack, your lips part in utter shock, and your eyes blink rapidly as if you’re in a haze. Your face has surely turned crimson, the heat creeping up your neck and settling in the peaks of your cheeks. The look on his face, however, is just as shocked as you are–like he couldn’t believe he did that. He looks… ashamed. It’s almost visible on his face–the way his thoughts race–his voice catching in his throat as if to offer an explanation. 

“Charlie…” 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–” 

“Kiss me again.” You rush out, “Please.”

“Are you sure–”

“Just kiss me.” You nearly groan. Unable to wait a moment longer, you step forward to close the short distance between you two, your arms finding their way around his neck and feet standing on their tippy-toes. Your lips crash onto his, your eyes fluttering close as his hands snake around your waist, desperately gripping at your clothed skin. A low hum purrs from his throat while he deepens the kiss, dipping his head lower to accommodate you and satisfy his fast-growing hunger. His mustache and the stubble on his chin rub against you, adding to the pleasurable sensation pooling in your gut. 

This was not what you intended when you were tasked with keeping him distracted, but you can’t find a part of you willing to stop. Not when he pulls you in closer by the waist, his fingers digging deeper into your heated flesh, grasping at you so you can’t pull away–like you ever would.

Taking the initiative, your tongue darts from your parted lips, swiping along his bottom lip and eliciting a groan from Charlie. The sound is like music to your ears, only fueling you further when your hands find his loose waves, gripping gently and tugging at the roots. Following your lead, his tongue combats yours, invading your senses with his taste, his smell, him. 

Without breaking the persisting kiss, Charlie moves you both and pulls you with him as he lands on the couch in a seated position. Instinctually, your legs straddle him–your skirt lifting and bunching at your hips–and you finally lean away from him to catch your breath, your chest heaving in response. Through parted lips, Charlie lets out quick huffs, his back slowly leaning against the couch to allow his eyes to rake over your appearance; flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and hooded eyes that silently beg for more. 

The sight of him is ungodly; sitting man-spread, hands now lazily resting against your hips, and eyes that flood with lust–the chocolatey irises being swallowed by dilated pupils. You need more of him.

Slouching slightly, you lean into him as your lips connect with his neck, leaving sloppy open-mouth kisses along the sensitive skin. His head tilts to the side to grant better access as a strained noise collects on the tip of his tongue. Your hips absently move against him and a surprised sound comes from you when the bulge of his jeans lines up with your aching core. The dull sensation urges you to seek more friction, making Charlie’s hands grip your hips to assist in your efforts. 

Soft, satisfied sighs brush past your lips as you continue your work on his exposed neck, pulling small grunts from him and subtle jerks of his hips. 

“Are you sure you want this?” His drawn voice calls to you, letting you know you can stop while you’re ahead. The thing is, you don’t want to. 

“So sure.” You mumble against his skin. “Are you?” Asking sincerely, you stop what you’re doing to catch his gaze.

He only nods, his eyes darting to your lips and hands absently squeezing, encouraging you to continue. Slowly, you roll your hips against him, building the previous friction back up. The feeling is deliciously teasing, only reaching a certain level of fulfillment before it becomes unbearable. You hold his line of sight, watching as his face gently contorts into a frustrated frown, needing more as much as you do. His brows furrow, creasing the skin between them, and a low grumble gathers in his chest as his legs shift restlessly beneath you.

Releasing your grip from his hair, your hands lay flat as they palm at his shoulders, spread across his chest, and travel down his abdomen, pausing just above the waistband of his jeans. You halt your hip movements, letting your fingers tease at the zipper before asking, “Can I?”

“Please.” 

It’s the only word he can muster before you undo the zipper at a tantalizing pace, the soft noise only adding to the fluttering feeling gathering in your lower belly. You quickly unfasten the jeans button, folding the rough denim fabric over to expose his boxers beneath. His jaw clenches when you tug the waistband of his jeans down just enough to reach into the stretchy material and firmly grip him. His stomach visibly tightens through his shirt, a low grunt exiting with a shaky breath as you free his hardened cock. Impressive.

Your closed fist works up and down his length a few times, admiring the way precum leaks from the reddened tip, pouring over onto your hand. Charlie struggles to show restraint as his hips shift upward to match your rhythm. You’re eager as well, feeling wetness gather and soak into the cotton fabric of your underwear. 

Impatience gets the better of you when you release him, smirking at the sound of protest from him as your hands find the bottom hem of your skirt and tug the clothing item upward to gather around your waist. His mouth clamps shut when your soaked underwear comes into view, exposing the absolute arousal he elicits from you. Usually, you’d opt for more foreplay, but you need him–you need him now. 

Unwilling to waste time, you pull your underwear to the side, using your other hand to grasp Charlie once more. With a little maneuvering, you scoot closer to him, lifting yourself slightly to align him with your cunt. He sucks in a sharp breath when you run the tip through your velvety folds, gathering every ounce of arousal before stopping at your dripping entrance. 

Slowly, you lower yourself, allowing your hips to sink onto him and inch his way into you. Neither of you dares to breathe as your walls stretch around him, welcoming him and swallowing every inch until you’ve sunken completely. Both of you gasp–for air, and because of the way his cock twitches and your walls squeeze around him. He’s filled you entirely and you bite back the moan that begs to release. Without even moving, the feeling itself is euphoric. 

“I need a minute.” He admits, his voice gravelly and forcing self-control.

“Me too.” You breathe out, your hands resting against his waist for support. 

Staying put, you lean forward, capturing his lips in a leisurely kiss. The moments leading up to this one have gone by in a blur, having happened so fast. You savor him, enjoying the way he can’t control the soft groans you swallow as your lips work against his, your walls pulsing in response. 

Your hands travel from below you, your fingertips ghosting over his lower stomach, his ribs, and his chest before settling on the sides of his face. His stubble scratches the surface of your palms as you deepen the kiss, humming in satisfaction when he invades your mouth with his tongue. Growing impatient, you feel Charlie’s hands grip tighter, urging you to lift your hips. 

The kiss is unbreaking as you follow his lead, letting him raise your hips and pull you back down onto his length. You moan into his mouth as he repeats this action a few more times before you decide to take over. Heavy breaths blow through his nose as you speed up, creating a steady rhythm that satisfies the both of you. You’re unsure how long you’ll last given the coil that’s been wound up tight since grinding against him fully clothed, which technically, you still are.

With your breath picking up, you break the kiss to focus solely on lifting and lowering your hips. The pace is growing quicker, and you notice Charlie’s hips moving to match your efforts. Resting your forehead against his, you lock eyes as you allow an uncontrollable string of moans to push past your plump lips, your eyebrows scrunching in pure pleasure. 

“I’m so close.” You confess, feeling your walls flutter around him in that familiar rhythmic pattern. 

“Keep going, baby.” His encouragement and use of the pet name through clenched teeth signals that his climax is nearing as well. 

Preserving energy and seeking release, you grind your hips instead, and you nearly cry out when your swollen clit rubs against him. It’s enough to bring you to the edge, your climax teetering and waiting to be pushed over. With a few more passes of your grinding hips, it doesn’t take long, and your head flies back to let out a drawn-out moan. 

“Oh god, Charlie.” Your voice points to the ceiling as your eyes squeeze shut, your hips sputtering against him. Your cunt pulses frantically around him as you continue your movements, riding out your crashing orgasm and urging Charlie to do the same. 

From the force of your climax, Charlie isn’t far behind. His name leaves your lips in an exasperated whimper, being repeated like a mantra. When your head falls forward, and your spent stare captures his, it’s enough to send him over the edge. With a choked groan, you feel his cock twitch inside you, coating your walls with hot cum as he stares deeply into you. Determined to wring out his orgasm, your hips move languidly despite the overwhelming sensation it creates for you, watching as his stomach flexes sporadically. 

He lets out a choked noise when he’s finished, the grip on your hips loosening and prompting you to slow to a stop. The mixture of your releases drips out of you, pooling at the base of his cock. Both of you breathe heavily, your chests heaving in harmony as your eyes bore into each other. 

You expect a feeling of regret to wash over you, but it never comes. 

Instead, Charlie’s hands slide to your waist and pull you closer, his lips peppering gentle kisses along your jaw, hairline, and lips. He reaches over beside him, grabbing a flannel he left draped over the back of the couch. Carefully, he drapes the patterned material over your shoulders, and your hands drop from his face, letting you lean forward and rest your head against his chest. You aren’t necessarily cold, but having shared an intimate moment with him, Charlie feels the need to cover you–to make you feel less exposed and to provide care.

“We should get cleaned up.” You mumble against him, feeling him soften inside of you.

“Okay…” His voice trails off, as if deep in thought. A beat passes before he speaks again, his gruff voice rumbling against your cheek from deep within his chest. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

You smile, genuinely in what feels like forever, “I’d love to.”

Tags:

[bunni-v1]

MORE JEALOUS PURE VANILLA COOKIE OMGGGG he'd totally be a jealous person despite his kindness

kinda imagining that in the stage during the push and pull he was doing, trying to push you away, you become quite close to some other cookies in the kingdom, specifically the creme Republic (clotted cream and financier) and he just gets.... uncomfortable when you two are FINALLY together because you're so friendly with clotted cream and his bodyguard.... like, hello.........

his eyes narrow slightly, and it just makes him feel so unpleasant, knowing that clotted cream cookie can easily strike up conversation with you and randomly tell him something you like—it makes his dough seethe slightly, whether he wants to admit it or not. or how financier and some random vanilla kingdom npcs mention a fact about you he coincidentally doesn't know because he was busy going through it and pushing you away before; OUGHHHHHH

i like to think white lily is involved in this in some way? he can't fully get over her and sometimes he tends to get passive about your very real concerns about how he looks at her as though he has something to say, i wonder how he would react if he finds you actually a bit insecure or unsure whether he'd pick you over her......... since he still cares deeply about his once first love, no?

anyways. yes. jealous PV is a concept that sticks heavily in my mind rn

-🃏

Jealousy Looks Ugly on You

🍓Hi pookiebear, I'm so sorry for 100% butchering the Creme Republic. I refuse to play that shit, even for that stupid blonde twink. Note, this takes place significantly after the events of Beast Yeast, so White Lily is technically visiting as a diplomat from the Faerie kingdom, and pv has already had his character development lol. Assumptions are made, and there is heavily implied past PureLily.

Tw: Poor communication; jealousy; implications at the very end; grammar/spelling errors

Info: Pure Vanilla x Reader; Implied past purelily; angst (not really though); fluff

Patience is a virtue that few cookies can claim to have. It's something that doesn't come easy to most, and Pure Vanilla Cookie has never judged anyone for being unable to hold themselves back from frustration. Except... himself of course.

He was exceptionally patient, to the point most gawked at him for his gentleness and understanding in certain situations. He held himself to a higher standard, and very few things brought out irritation in him. So... why exactly was the sight of Clotted Cream Cookie making his dough run so hot right now?

It wasn't as though Clotted Cream was doing anything offensive, quite the opposite actually. He was having a pleasant conversation, all warm smiles and... gentle touches. With who? Oh. Just the object of Pure Vanilla's deepest affections, the cookie he'd only recently been able to call his other half, his dearly beloved you.

Clotted Cream seems to speak to you with such familiarity, such warmth like perhaps he too harbors some kind of affection for you. Pure Vanilla's eyebrow twitches when he leans in to whisper something in your ear, and you laugh like it's the funniest thing you've ever heard. It nearly pulls a frown out of him, but his calm smile remains steadfast, not wanting you to notice and worry over him.

Still, his eyes narrow when Clotted Cream pats you on your shoulder good-naturedly. The former cookie locking eyes with him and smiling before sending you back to his side like he hadn't earned Pure Vanilla's ire only seconds ago. You are oblivious, as you always are, as he wants you to be. He only smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you just a little closer than he normally does.

"Did you enjoy your time with Clotted Cream Cookie, my love?" He asks sweetly, though he doesn't really want to know.

You give him a beaming smile, "As always. He knows how to make boring proceedings fun."

"Ah," he hopes you don't notice how he tenses, "What were you talking about just now, it seemed funny."

"Just an inside joke," you smile fondly as you remember, "it's only funny if you were there, or else I'd let you in on it too."

"That's alright," he hums, though his fingers press a little harder into your side as you walk, "I'm just happy to see you happy."

It's not a lie, either. He does love seeing your smile, but not when it's caused by another cookie. Not when it's treated like some kind of secret he's not meant to see. He tries to remind himself that there's no need to be so immature, but his dough is already warm and his mind spiraling. It took him so very long to come to terms with his feelings for you, he missed out on so much. Where he wasn't, other cookies were, and those cookies took his place in experiences that should've been his. Took smiles that should've been his. Moments he should've shared with you.

You place your hand where he holds you at your waist, turning to give him a warm smile. It warms his heart to know you're caring for him in your own way, but he doesn't want to make you worry. To ease your mind, he presses a kiss to your forehead, offering his own smile up to you. You were with him now, there was no need to worry any longer.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

Pure Vanilla enjoyed quiet moments with you, especially ones like this. In the garden, surrounded by the white lilies there was nothing more peaceful than that. Your fingers run along their delicate petals as you hum a little tune to yourself, and he enjoys the sight with unbridled delight. His favorite cookie surrounded by his favorite flowers, what a blessing it is on his soul.

There are times where he wishes that every day could be like this. Just you and him in company, taking things nice and slow, soaking in the environment. You turn a little to sneak a glance at him, smiling to yourself when you notice his staring. The shyness cute on your face, something he loves to draw out of you.

Yes moments like these are exactly what he lives fo—

“Y/n Cookie? Are you around?” The familiar voice of Financier Cookie calls amongst the sea of flowers.

You perk up, standing from your spot with a wide smile, “I’m over here with the lilies!”

She comes into view around the corner, normally stern expression softening at the sight of you. Pure Vanilla does not like the look on her face. Still, he holds his tongue, there was no reason to be upset. She was a friend.

“Clotted Cream requests your presence,” She announces, and when you frown she shakes her head, “Nothing serious, he wishes to continue your conversation from yesterday. He’s in he quarters as usual.”

You brighten up, “Oh! I suppose we never did finish talking— ah, but… Pure Vanilla and I were spending some time together.”

He does not frown, though he really wants to. He knows that he could just say no, that you would remain by his side if he asked… but he can’t possibly take up your time when you are wanted elsewhere. It would be unfair to do so over such petty jealousy.

“We see each other every day,” He assures with that same gentle smile, “Go and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

You frown a little, “Are you sure?”

Of course he isn’t, “Positive. I’ll see you tonight.”

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at him worriedly, but ultimately wander off to find Clotted Cream. Financier stays back for a moment, watching you with an odd look on her face. The consideration is enough to pique his interest, so he raises his question.

“Is something the matter…?”

“Oh, no, nothing,” She shakes her head, “I would tell you immediately if there was anything to be concerned with.”

“Then why do you look so perplexed?” He asks again.

She seems to consider if telling him the truth is worth it or not. Mulling her options over for a few seconds before sighing, “It’s just a bit… odd to see them here.”

He frowns, “Whatever do you mean? Is there something wrong with the gardens?”

She shakes her head, sighing off some kind of weight, “Well, they’ve told me a few times in passing that they’re… not a fan of while lillie’s. The smell irritates them, if I’m remembering correctly, so it’s surprising to find them surrounded by them.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware…” He mutters, grip tightening on his staff.

She gives him a small reassuring smile, but it does anything but help, “I’m sure they just forgot to mention it, that’s all.”

“Of course, thank you Financier Cookie,” He hummed with as much sincerity he could muster.

She smiles tightly at him, and then leaves him alone with his thoughts. And think he does, far too much. Not only are you so close with so many cookies, not only did you leave him for Clotted Cream today, but now he learns you don’t even care for his favorite flower? You hadn’t ever mentioned it to him, but you had to other cookies. Wouldn’t something this important be worth talking about with him?

He takes a deep breath, leveling himself out once again. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, knowing that you would never do anything to hurt him purposefully. He couldn’t stop the ache, though. There was so much he did not know about you, so many things he had to learn that other cookies got to hear without asking.

How much time would it take for him to know you the way they did? He burned with jealousy at how easy it was for other cookies to know you, to see you and talk to you with no effort. Each time you were around he felt himself falling apart at the seams, grasping at any little sprinkle of attention you gave him. He could never be so casual with you, not with the effect you had on him, and it made him so jealous to know other cookies had it so easy.

He sighs again, setting his hat down. Not even the lilies were bringing him comfort now, his mood soured yet again. All he could do was sit and seethe until you returned to his side, imagining what you and Clotted Cream might be talking about that was so important to pluck you from his side.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

It is days of this cycle, which he refuses to break, even when given the chance to a million times. He just can’t find it in himself to step in, not when you seem so happy. Besides, it’s not as though he never sees you. He gets to have you to himself for most of the day, and especially at night.

Still, the annoyance grows in his chest little by little. Without realizing it he distanced himself from you, not wanting to overstep, he decides giving you space is for the best. Yet, he doesn’t realize just how much space he has given you. You begin to miss him, but he always has an excuse for you to go and visit with other cookies.

It feels like he does not want you around, even though he misses you dearly. The conundrum reaches a head when White Lily comes to visit. Being the Faerie Queen now, it was rare she took the time to see her old friend. So when the news of her traveling reached his ears, he cleared all his time to be with her.

You had not seen him since she had arrived, unless you were in your shared room. Even then, you hardly spoke more than a few words. There was an awkwardness there that hadn’t existed only a few days prior, it made your stomach ache. But how could you bring up your concerns when he merely brushed them away, always finding some way to make peace with the situation.

You did not hate White Lily Cookie, she couldn’t not control Pure Vanilla. But the sickness in your dough when you see them together does not go away with any soothing. He talks to her with such ease and knowing, in a way he never did with you. And when he looks at her there is a deep affection that never existed for you.

It makes you hurt. You could never be her, not in a million years. Perhaps that was why he was so distant recently, because he had missed her. Perhaps he wished that you were White Lily Cookie instead.

Despite him seeming oblivious, he was anything but. He was fully aware of the distance he had made between the two of you, and yet… he didn’t know how to fix it. His people pleasing ways had come around to stab him in the back, and he had no idea how to heal the wound inflicted by his own foolish actions.

Not until White Lily’s keen eyes picked up in the tension. She had always been able to read him well, it was why he was so fond of her. She knew him like no other cookie did, and he her. Which is exactly why she was the one to notice how worried he’d seemed.

“You’re tense,” She said simply, taking her seat next to him in the pagoda.

He sighs, “Is it obvious.”

“To me,” She smiles, “Tell me what’s on your mind, friend. It’s rare to see you so worried.”

He frowns at her, all the tension and fear from the week flooding him now that she was confronting it, “I am afraid I may be ruining my relationship.”

She blinks at him, tilting her head, “How would you be doing that?”

After a moments hesitation he lists the ways he has been dealing with the situation. The worry that he will never be close enough to you. The annoyance in his chest when other cookies are chummy with you. The distance he has created to avoid those feeling only making them worse. She smiles through the whole thing, knowingly.

“So… you’re jealous?” She chuckles, leaning forward with a teasing smile.

“I… suppose I am,” He admits, “It’s not as though the feeling is new, but it’s never been so strong…”

She laughs at him again, “Because you are in love, silly. Of course it’s stronger, have you talked to them about it.”

“Well…”

“Pure Vanilla.” She scolds, “Goodness, when will you ever learn. You can’t people please all the time, it’s not good for your health.”

He sighs, nodding along in agreement, “I know, I just don’t know how to bring it up so I deflect. And I’ve been avoiding them since you arrived, I can tell they feel horrible, but I fear I’ve gone too far.”

She hushes him, grabbing his hand in her own, “It’s never too late if the intent is there. I’m sure they’ll understand if you just talk to them. I would.”

“Thank you White Lily,” He smiles genuinely for the first time since she arrived, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She smiles warmly at him, squeezing his hand tightly. She always had a way to ease his worries with her words. It was just how well she knew him, she knew just what he needed as always.

A throat clears to the side of them, drawing their attention to it. White Lily reacts first, pulling her hands away from him and offering you a smile.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, mousy with voice shaking.

“Of course not,” She assures, “We were just talking about you, actually!”

Your expression relaxes a bit, inching forward as if one of them might deny you entry, “Nothing bad I hope…”

“Never,” Pure Vanilla speaks with such warmth that you almost forget how much you’d missed him this whole time, “Please come join us.”

So you do, and you sit and talk with them, and things are nearly normal. Pure Vanilla is back to his usual affectionate self, like nothing ever happened. But you catch the way he and White Lily exchange glances, the way banter comes to them more easily than it ever has to you. They just understood each other in a way you never have, and you couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. Especially not after he’d pushed you away so much.

Eventually, White Lily leaves with the excuse of needing rest. Yet, you know it’s to give the two of you space. She’s always been observant and understanding, and you’re grateful for her consideration. When it is just you and Pure Vanilla again, you feel the tension begin to creep back between you. The thick wall of awkwardness wedging between you, and you fear for a moment that this is how it will be forever now. Then, he takes your hands in his, leaning over the table to get closer to you.

“I have to apologize,” He begins, “I have been unfair to you, and we have both suffered because of my actions.”

“Pure Vanilla—“ You want to ease his worries for some reason, tell him it’s alright, but he doesn’t allow you to.

“It took me a very long time to let you in, and because of that I fell short on sharing important moments with you. I’ve found myself… envious of other cookies who take up your time, and I’ve been immature in how I handle it,” He admits, stroking the backs of your hands, “I’ve put too much distance between us, and I can see how much it pains you. I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

It takes you a moment of awkward blinking to take in all he said, and while his genuineness is sweet, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your stomach. It’s ridiculous when you think about it. He was jealous so he avoided you, and at the same time you were just as jealous of White Lily Cookie. It was silly, and so easily solved, yet neither of you were willing to upset the other. He seems to find the humor in it all too, laughing heartily at your side.

You laugh until your sides hurt and tears are streaming from your eyes. Leaning your full weight on him so you don’t collapse to the floor. When you finally calm, you find it in yourself to admit to your own plight.

“I would be harsh on you, but I’m just as guilty of jealousy.” You sigh, squeezing his fingers in yours.

“What do you have to be jealous of?” He asks, and you almost can’t believe he doesn’t know. It’s so obvious to everyone else around him that he still adores White Lily, everyone but him it seems.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Gosh, you’re so oblivious. You really don’t know how you look at her, do you?”

He shakes his head with a deep frown.

“When you look at White Lily, I can see how much you still love her. I know you would never hurt me or betray me like that, but it does hurt when I see how you treat her. I feel like… maybe you’ll never look at me like that.” You admit, voice small and shaky the longer you go. It was hard to come to terms with how much it hurt, and worse to say out loud to him. He could reject you, pretend your feelings aren’t real.

Instead, he tucks a finger under you chin and forces your eyes on him, “I already do… I just get so embarrassed when you’re looking that I hide it from you.”

He pulls you a little closer, “I still love White Lily, but not in the same way that I love you. You are my whole world, my love. I would never leave you, not for anyone, and I’m sorry I made you worry for even a moment.”

You smile softly at him, leaning into his touch, “Next time, I think we should both just talk about it? All this dodging each other is silly.”

“I agree,” He chuckles, “I much prefer talking to you than not.”

“Very good,” You hum, sliding your arms around his shoulders, “Shall we make it up to each other then?”

His hand tug you closer by your waist, “I think that would be very nice, yes.”

[ellieputellas]

friendly competition | alexia putellas x mapi león x reader 🔞

Your best friends Alexia and Mapi were always naturally competitive, finding every opportunity to one up each other. You just never thought pleasuring you would be their next competition.

tags / warnings: MINORS DNI, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, cunnilingus r!receiving, lots of making out and fondling, minimal usage of slut, pet names, overstimulation, drunk sex, just some nice friendly competition, unedited and no proofreading done at all so there will be some errors | wc: 4k+

masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize.

After breaking up with your boyfriend of 5 years, your best friends from college decided that they would make it their agenda to make you happy.

"Mapi, enough with the drinks, she's going to throw up if you keep making her drunk." Alexia scolded the tattooed girl who was mixing you a suspicious cocktail of Jäger and soda. 

Mapi scoffed. "She's gonna end up getting sick first cause of all the sweets you're feeding her."

Alexia rolled her eyes at Mapi.

Mapi and Alexia were competitive ever since you first met as roommates for college. They didn't like to admit it but there was always something between the two of them — a sense of friendly competition. It started off with just football but it trickled down to other things — like grades in school and party games. 

At some point, the two even started a competition of who could get the most girl's numbers at a college party, much to your dismay. You hated being in between all of it; you weren't always a fan of how competitive and intense they could be.

But today, it was working in your favor because today, their competition was on who could make you feel better faster.

"Actually, I don't want anything to drink or eat right now." You groaned, rubbing your tummy. You were starting to feel full and tipsy. "I'd kill to get my feet massaged right now though."

"Got it," Alexia said, immediately getting up from the couch to settle on the floor and take one of your feet. 

Mapi furrowed her eyebrows. "Don't let Alexia do it. She just presses random spots and thinks that's good enough."

The two bantered, both obviously tipsy as well. You chuckled and shook your head. "How do you two even know who gives the better foot rubs? You two join some weird foot massaging tournament?”

Mapi smirked as she slinked beside Alexia, grabbing your other foot. "We both liked the same girl before and we both wanted to impress her and that somehow ended up kinda like this." She recounted.

You chuckled and shook your head at the anecdote. There wasn't a single thing your two best friends did not compete over. You were just glad it was going in your favor today.

You moaned out in delight as you felt them both try hard to massage your feet. "Mmm, that's good." You laid your head back, resting it on the couch cushion.

"Well, who's better?" Alexia asked impatiently.

You sighed. "You've been massaging me for 3 seconds and you already want me to decide already. Just keep at it."

The two laughed; they knew you were taking advantage of their competitiveness but fuck it, you were just  broken up with. The least you can get off it was a foot massage.

"So, be for real, are you still upset about him?" Mapi asked, tilting her head to the side. 

You hummed to think. "Yes... and no." You responded honestly. "Yes because we were together for a really long time and I just got used to being around him. He kind of became part of my life ritual so it will be hard to move past that."

"And no because?" Alexia pressed, looking at you with a curious look.

"Also no because these past years, I've always felt like the spark completely died out." You said honestly, taking a deep breath. "I hate him for cheating on me and leaving me for some random chick he met on Call of Duty but part of me blames myself. I rarely make out with him. We only ever have sex on his birthday or when he begs for it extra, extra hard. I just wasn't a good girlfriend physically and I guess, men need that physical aspect of a relationship."

You pressed a hand on your forehead as you sighed deeply. "At least I don't have to force myself to fake an orgasm anymore while having to choke down my own vomit." You said, shaking your head at the memory of the sweaty man grunting on top of you. Why did I even try to put up with that?

The two laughed at your candidness which was mostly brought by your inebriation. "Geez, I didn't know you two were having issues like that." Alexia commented with an amused expression."You guys always looked happy."

"I saw it coming. If you're observant enough, you could see they were mostly just friends these past years. The whole romance aspect died down basically during the second year of college." Mapi interjected. "You might not have noticed it much, Ale. Considering that you’re not that observant."

Alexia looked offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I'm more observant than you are. I literally am the best listener while you mostly just yap." She argued.

You grained, feeling your head throb with the banter. “Can you guys cut it out for a moment? I just want a good foot massage and not have to hear you two bicker about who's better at what."

The two continued to massage your feet, glancing at each other to see how well the other was doing. You rolled your eyes. I really got a bunch of childish losers for my best friends, you thought.

"Mmm," You said out loud as you felt Mapi press against a pressure point with the pad of her fingers. "Oh... that feels really good."

Mapi smiled. Alexia rolled her eyes but decided to emulate Mapi and press against the same pressure point on the opposite foot.

You moaned out. "Ohhh, that feels really good. Mmm." You closed my eyes, pressing your hands flat on the surface beside you.

"This massage is giving me more pleasure than all the sex I had with him all those years combined. I can't believe a foot massage may give me my first orgasm." You attempted a joke but realized no one was chuckling with you. You blinked your eyes open to see Alexia and Mapi looking at each other knowingly.

You cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

The two had a playful smirk that irked you and left you feeling uneasy. You felt like you were being purposefully left out of an inside joke. 

"Whaaaaat? Tell me."

"I don't even know if Alexia is thinking the same thing as me." Mapi shrugged with a small smile and a playful look on her face. She glanced at Alexia who was chuckling as she shook her head.

After a pause of contemplation, Alexia leaned in to whisper something in Mapi's ear, making her chuckle. "Okay, never mind, we were thinking the same thing." Mapi confirmed, not exactly shocked that they were thinking alike.

You groaned. "Can you just tell me? This is frustrating."

The two best friends looked at each other carefully, slowing down on their foot massaging. Alexia bit her lip before saying out loud. "We wanna see who can pleasure you more." Her tone was calculated but firm.

"Pleasure?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Mapi nodded. "Yeah, we wanna see which one of us can fuck you better." She said more bluntly. 

You widened my eyes. "Are you guys insane?" You shouted, jolting back and taking back your feet away from them. You tucked them into an indian sit."You guys better be fucking around."

The two of them were quiet and unresponsive which made you a bit nervous. Were they actually being serious?

"Guys, don't fuck around with me please. I don't like it." You whined, feeling teased by your best friends. "It's really not funny."

"To be honest... Alexia and I have been interested in you since college." Mapi responded. "We just kept a healthy distance since, well, you had a boyfriend."

You turned your attention to Alexia who nodded. "Yeah, I've wanted to bend you over and go crazy ever since I saw you undress in front of me during our first night at our dorm." Her voice was too confident and loud, obviously tipsy but it still sounded honest.

You fell speechless, blinking and trying to process what the two had just confessed. Mapi stood up and leaned over you on the couch, propping her hand beside you. "Come on, don't tell us you haven't thought of us like that before?" She asked with a suggestive tone.

You gulped. You've always known your best friends were attractive; there was a good reason for them to be so popular amongst girls. All of your friends in college basically were always asking about at least one of them. It was no question that they were both hot and had such strong sex appeal in such different ways. But, you didn't really think about it until now...

Before you could say anything, Mapi's lips found its way to your neck. You gasped as you felt her kiss the side of your neck then slowly made her way to your jaw. You tensed up at first but immediately felt your eyes flutter.

"Uh," You  moaned as you let her suck on your neck. "Mapi, wait."

She pulled away. "Tell me stop if you don't want me to go on." She said before leaning in again to kiss your neck but with more force this time. You knew you should have stopped her but it just felt too damn good. You moaned out when you felt her nibble at a sensitive part of your collarbones. All hesitation melted away and you wrapped your arms around her and let her devour you. 

"Hey, I want a turn too." You opened your eyes to see Alexia standing, towering over the two of you. You don't know what came over you but you used your left hand to grab her hand and pull her close to you.

Mapi moved over to sit on your right and to kiss that side of my neck while moving her hands to gently cup your clothed breast as Alexia leaned over you, capturing your lips with hers.

You moaned, tasting the cocktail taste lingering in her tongue as it skillfully entered your mouth. Unlike kissing your ex-boyfriend, you didn't feel like puking yourself. You wanted to kiss Alexia deeper, taste more of her, and have her hands in your body. Her tongue and lips were already against yours but you wanted to be closer. You needed her inside you, craving to be filled by your best friend's fingers.

You yelped as you felt Mapi suddenly squeeze your chest hard with her hand.

"Alexia, don't hog her." She complained.

Alexia broke your kiss. "Not my fault she wants me more," She teased as she went back to kissing you.

You pulled away after a few lip locks, deciding you also wanted a taste of Mapi. You turned your head to her, grabbing her jaw and planting your eager lips on her.

Mapi was rougher. She liked to bite and nibble. Her tongue expertly slithering into your mouth with so much fervor that you were already practically moaning from her kisses. Mapi scooped you up from her side and guided you so you ended up straddling her lap as she kissed you deeply.

You felt her hands slithering under your shirt and then under your bra. You gasped in between her kisses as she took your nipples between her fingers, pinching and twirling them. You couldn't help but grind yourself against her lap as she kissed and fondled you.

"Mapi, now, you're the one being selfish." Alexia complained.

Mapi stopped kissing you. She looked into your eyes with darkened lust before looking at Alexia and nodding. Alexia took you off of Mapi's lap before sitting down on the spot beside her. She emulated Mapi's position, propping you on top of her.

Alexia hurriedly took off your shirt and your bra. She bit her lip as she looked at your breasts. "If I had known you had boobs as cute as this, I would have ravaged you earlier." She said as she looked hungrily at your bare chest.

Before you could roll your eyes or make a snide remark, her mouth captured your right nipple. She alternated between sucking and using her tongue to flick against it. Her other hand started with the other nipple, pinching and flicking before slowly moving down to rub your core from the outside. 

You just wanted so badly for her to rip off your shorts and undies but Alexia just kept teasing you by rubbing on the outside, alternating from grazing your core to running her hands along your inner thigh.

You broke our kiss. "Ale, Ale, I want it inside, please."

Alexia looked smug. "I thought you didn't want us to pleasure you, huh?"

You groaned as you felt her draw painstakingly slow circles around your core. "Quit it. I want it now."

"Then you'll get it."

Alexia kissed you briefly before making you stand up so she could take off your bottoms. The two looked like hungry animals with the way they stared at you undress, ready to pounce and devour every bit of flesh on you. It left you shivering and wanting them more.

Alexia gestured for you to sit down on her lap, facing the opposite direction. You followed suit, turning to have your back facing her before sitting on her lap. She grabbed your breasts, moving your body closer to her torso before parting your legs. You felt exposed this way. You were spread open for Alexia to touch and Mapi to watch. 

You couldn't see Alexia but you could hear her curse under her breath as her hands made its way from your inner thigh to your dripping wet core.

"Cariño, look how wet you are for us." She said as she slowly rubbed your clit. Mapi licked her lips as she watched Alexia tease her fingers around your entrance, feeling all the folds and contours of your core.

You moaned as you felt the tips of Alexia's fingers draw wide circles around your entire core, purposefully avoiding your clit. You tried to grind against her for more but her other hand was holding your hip steady.

Mapi excused herself to go to the next room and before you could ask why, Alexia's fingers found their way to your throbbing clit and began rubbing it in circles. You moaned out.

You were wriggling quite a bit due to the sudden bouts of pressure going through your body but Alexia was able to hold you steady with her hands. "Oh, our little slut likes getting her clit played with?" Alexia teased, suddenly upping the dirty talk which just made you feel more turned on. 

You ignored her teasing and continued to focus on the way her hands touched you. "Alexia, please," You moaned. "I want you."

"Mmm," She hummed as if to think. "I'll do it if you admit you're a slut for me."

You knitted your eyebrows together. "Alexia..."

"Say it."

"Fuck," You closed your eyes shut as you felt her fingers graze against the sensitive spot of your clit. Alexia had felt you react to it and decided to tease you by playfully flicking her fingers up and down the sensitive spot. "Alexia, I'm your slut."

"Good girl." Alexia spared no time before inserting two fingers in your cunt. Given her limited position, she was mostly curling her fingers instead of thrusting in and out which just made you moan out louder each time she grazed and hit against the most sensitive areas.

"You sound so good, cariño." Alexia grunted in your ear. "I think you're wet enough to take another."

Without much time to process her statement, she inserted a third finger inside you, eliciting a loud gasp. You gyrated your hips against Alexia's hand as she continued to fuck you. The three fingers inside you were stretching you out so much and yet it felt so satisfying feeling so full like that.

You were just about to reach orgasm when Mapi re-entered the room. "My turn, Alexia." She ordered.

Alexia removed her fingers from inside you abruptly. You groaned and were about to complain. But, when you opened your eyes, you saw that Mapi has now stripped completely except for a black sports bra and a strap-on wrapped around her waist with a black harness. She had her dyed blonde hair tied up in a sleek bun, showing just how serious she was about this.

"I knew you had it with you." Alexia responded with a chuckle. "That's why I stretched her out nice and good for you. Consider it a thank you for letting me play with her cute little pussy first."

Mapi chuckled as she positioned herself in front of you. "Did Alexia make you feel good, princesa?"

You bit your lip and nodded as you watched her put lube on to the translucent silicone member attached to her.

"Well, if Alexia made you feel good, I'll make you feel better." She said with a playful tone

Alexia, who was still underneath you, chuckled at the statement but held your thighs steadily apart for Mapi, spreading them apart to make sure you were completely exposed.

Mapi slowly positioned her hips to align the silicone member in front of your cunt. Alexia took one of her hands off your leg and continued to rub your clit. You felt incredibly exposed as you moaned out, feeling your cunt grow wetter.

Mapi slowly entered. You gasped as she slowly thrusted the entire length inside, gaping you wide open. Alexia kept rubbing your core to help you take Mapi's entire length better.

"Fuck, look at that pretty pussy stretch wide around my dick." Mapi commented before tucking her lower lip between her teeth.

After a few precautionary thrusts, Mapi increased her pace. She thrust in and out of, daring to thrust out the entire length up to the head before slamming back inside of you. Alexia was still rubbing you steadily while kissing your neck and playing with your breast.

You felt overstimulated in all your parts with Mapi filling you up entirely, Alexia touching you everywhere else and the warmth of both their bodies pressed against you.

"I-I'm almost there." You said in between shaky moans. "Ale, Mapi, faster please."

The two didn't hesitate and obeyed immediately. You felt the warmth fill your entirety. Your arms, legs and even your torso began shaking with an orgasm threatening to erupt. You were moaning out so loud that you were sure you were getting a strongly worded notice from the landlord about complaints from the neighbors the next day 

"Mapi!" You moaned as Mapi slammed her entirety into you.

With a few more intense thrusts, you were completely unraveled. Ripples of pleasure  passed through your body as you unraveled into an orgasm.

Your best friends helped ride out your orgasm before fully stopping. Mapi pulled out before grabbing your face and kissing you sloppily as you both tried to catch your breaths.

"Woah." It was all you could say.

You scooted off of Alexia's lap and rested on the space beside her, melting into a puddle of pleasure and exhaustion.

"Uh, Mapi, why did you have to wear her out?" Alexia complained. "I wasn't done with her yet."

Mapi smiled smugly. "Look at her. How can I resist? You try lusting over her for years."

"Estúpida, we're on the same boat." Alexia smacked Mapi's arm. "I wanted her for just as long."

Alexia leaned in closer to you, planting gentle kisses on your cheek before whispering. "Are you all rested up? Cause it's my turn to take the spotlight."

"I don't know if I can take it." You responded honestly, still catching your breath.

"You can take it, I promise." Alexia responded as she kneeled in front of you, grabbing your feet to place on the sofa on either side of you so that you were once again exposed to her.

"Alexia, wait, I'm still raw." You whimpered

Alexia groaned. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

Mapi, who was standing as she removed the harness, rolled her eyes. "No, she won't."

"No, I promise, cariño. I'll be good." Alexia said as she moved closer to you. She leaned her head into your cunt, giving it a gentle smooch. You gasped quietly at the gentle touch.

She gave your cunt another peck before taking it inside her mouth and using her tongue to lick the slickness of your core. You moaned as you felt the flat of Alexia's tongue clean the surface of your cunt.

"Uh, Alexia." You moaned as you felt her tongue play along the folds. "Suck on me, please."

Alexia obeyed and placed a suction around your clit. She sucked and you nearly jolted out of your position. "Fuck! That's good."

Alexia looked smug as she continued to eat you out. You were moaning and grunting, focused on your pleasure until Mapi grabbed your face and proceeded to kiss you.

You moaned sloppily into her mouth as she liplocked with you as you were getting eaten out by your other best friend. You moaned against Mapi's mouth when you felt the tip of Alexia's tongue play against the small part of your clit. You moved your hips towards her and parted your lips to breathe which didn't stop Mapi from taking that as an opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth.

You were breathless and overstimulated. You felt like the two were overcompensating for the lost pleasure they could have had if it weren't due to you being tied down to the anchor that was your ex for all these years.

You continued to gyrate your hips as Alexia kept a firm suction of your core with her mouth, still kissing Mapi deeply. You moaned loudly against Mapi's mouth when you felt the climax building. At that point, Alexia removed her face from your cunt and promptly replaced it with her hand rubbing against your and the two fingers of the other hand swiftly placed inside you, curling against your sensitive part.

You couldn't even process what happened next. You turned into a concentration of mindless pleasure that eventually exploded into a shaking orgasm.

"Woah, Mapi." Alexia exclaimed with her fingers still pumping in and out of you. You fluttered your eyes open to see Alexia smiling playfully at Mapi. "She's squirting."

You looked down and as if on cue, you squirted again. You groaned as Alexia fingered you a few more times before fully pulling out. "I never would have guessed you're a squirter." She commented.

"I guessed it." Mapi responded.

Alexia just rolled her eyes. "That doesn't matter. I made her squirt without any of your help." She retorted.

"Please, she was only cumming after I already fucked her. That orgasm was merely an aftershock." Mapi answered. "I think I won."

Alexia exhaled exasperatedly. She turned towards you. "Go on and tell Mapi I won this time."

You paused as you tried to catch your breath, darting your eyes from one best friend to the other. Alexia was good with her hands and mouth. She loved to hit particular spots that just elicited the loudest and most embarrassing noises you have ever made. On the other hand, Mapi truly fucked yoy brains out with her strap. It was rough and indulgent which you never would have thought was the type of sex you would go insane for.

You hummed. "No winners."

Alexia and Mapi exclaimed in protest loudly. You hushed the two immediately. "No winners yet. I think I need another round to get to decide who wins."

They both smiled.

"Good," Alexia said. "I can go all night until you decide I win."

"I can go all night even after you decide I win." Mapi retorted. You shook your head and chuckled at them. It was going to be a long and sleepless night.

a/n: sorry this was completely unedited! i hope u guys still liked it! pls be nice <3 requests are open (but slow and not guaranteed lol)

[morphids]

Omg… I love your works I’ve been keeping up with them for a while now! How cute would it be for Levi and Hange to be childhood friends and for reader to be Levi’s little sister in a modern! I imagine reader would have a crush on Hange but not say anything until they’re all adults 😭 probably mentioning it briefly in conversation like “haha yeah i had a crush on you… anyway”

brother’s best friend, hange zoë

oh hell yeah i love this!! sorry, i made it smutty—couldn’t help myself <3 hope u enjoy anonie! i put my whole pussy into it lmao

summary: brothers best friend!hange x f!reader modern au.

warnings: 18+ minors & ageless blogs dni!! explicit sexual content. poc friendly! nb!hange x female!reader. forbidden/secret relationship, switch!hange, switch!reader, older brother!levi. lesbian activity, yearning, angst? jealousy, fwb!abby anderson x reader cameo, dirty talk, tongue piercing, fingersucking, fingering, munching, strap usage, strap licking, hange refers to the strap as their cock once, they're both whores. for eachother <3. can't think of anything else. hange is tatted n pierced cos i said so :p

wc: 12.4k words.. look idk either don't ask. proofread but there's so many words im sure there's bound to be errors with my dyslexic ass.

—

As a child, you always used to follow your older brother everywhere. I mean, that's kind of a rite of passage as a younger sibling. You looked up to him, his friend group was nice to you, much to Levi's discontent, always buying you ice cream and little snacks and ruffling your hair until it was a tangled mess on your head.

You were only two years younger than him, but he acted like you were eight years old whenever you'd ask if you could go out with him and his friends.

"No—you can come when you're taller than me." He'd say, it worked when you were still smaller, but you had a little growth spurt, making you almost the same height as him. Levi hated that, being victim to endless teasing from both your parents and his friends.

 "But, I'm already almost taller than you?"

"Doesn't matter, brat." But he'd sigh, and let you go anyway. Feeling your mother's stare on him, no words needed, a simple look that stated, 'Take her with you, and don't argue,"

It wasn't like you didn't have any friends of your own to hang out with, but his were just, so cool. So different to yours. They stayed out much later and did more fun things like going to buy milkshakes and sit around idly in parks. Stuff your friends weren't allowed to do.

Plus, one particular friend of his always caught your eye more than the others. Hange.

With their comfy cardigans and messy hair, cheerful smile and bright demeanour. They were way taller than Levi, you always found that funny. How technically, he wasn't even tall enough to go out either by the standards he placed on you.

Looking back on it, you were a little embarrassed at how you trailed after Hange like a lost puppy. Eyeing their every move and following them as you tried to force their attention on you. Cringing at your younger self, you just really liked them. Wanted to be their friend, to hang out with them as much as you could.

Now, though, you had all grown into adulthood, you were in your first semester at college, at home for the first break of the year. The woes of young adulthood following you around like it did everyone else.

Levi and Hange remained best friends throughout, many of his other friends moving to distant colleges, whilst both of them stayed local, their friendship held strong.

You were currently reading a book on your bed as you heard the familiar laughs from Hange, and chattering from Levi through the open gap of your door.

You always admired their friendship, how close they were and the effort they made into retaining it. Many of your own friendships had come and gone, lost to time and petty arguments but theirs never did, not even once.

Sure, you had Mikasa, the closest you had to a best friend but she was bound to you by familial ties and family values. You often wondered if your friendship would've remained if you weren't cousins. You weren't ungrateful, though, Mikasa is a ride-or-die type of person. If you were friends with her, she'd die for you. Her own code of loyalty un-breaking in the face of silly things that'd rip other friendships apart. You hadn't seen her for a few days, though. She'd gone on some trip with her parents and boyfriend, and not wanting to ruin their family bonding time you opted to stay at home during the holidays.

Consequently, you were insanely bored. Out of your mind, even. You had read that book maybe five times? You weren't sure if you had it in you to finish it for the sixth. So, rather begrudgingly, you made your way down the stairs, to where Levi and Hange were sat playing video games on the couch.

Hange's legs were spread as their elbows rested on each knee, both of them hunched over their remotes, backs bent to feel closer to the screen. Shouting incoherently as their chosen characters were beating each other up, throwing high kicks and brutal uppercuts in a 1v1.

You watched them for a while, laughing as Levi got his ass kicked by Hange's chosen character. Claiming that Hange was cheating to make himself feel better about losing.

Hange hadn't changed much, their features were the same, albeit more pronounced and mature. It was their style that changed the most, going from dorky graphic tees to tightly cropped tank tops that exposed their arms and baggy ripped jeans that hung low on their slender hips. Not to mention the new piercings and the tats that now covered their wrists and upper chest, often poking through the collar hem.

Their hair was shorter, now, too. Layered strands falling out of its tie as shorter pieces framed the structure of their face. A curved, short metallic line pierced through their right eyebrow, along with a small band hanging off their septum on a curved nose. Hange was always attractive, for sure, but they got insanely hot. Confidence just radiated from them as they got comfortable in their own skin. You had always been drawn to them, you just got better at hiding it. The prefrontal cortex developing into self-awareness at how embarrassing it was to be so openly craving Hange's attention. Plus, they were Levi's best friend, it simply couldn't happen.

Did I mention they were also gay? You remembered when Hange first came out to Levi, nervously telling him about a crush they had on a cute barista in the city. You also especially remembered the way your chest constricted and the bitter taste that soured your tongue as Hange fawned over this cute girl they spoke to just a few times.

Levi took it well, like a good friend, besides he was gay, too— in love with Erwin. He told you about their secret kisses and conflicted feelings one night, after a bit too much to drink that he was heartbroken when Erwin moved away, and onto to better things. A disregarded potential relationship that never kicked off, he hasn't found another half since. You wished he would, he was a good person.

Hange noticed you standing behind them, head turning slightly for confirmation of your presence before turning back to try and focus on the screen. You were bent over the back of the couch, elbows resting on the cushions as you watched their game, the loose, comfy shorts exposing your thighs and a tight long-sleeved shirt with a cut down to the chest, pretty white lace rimming the hem as it sunk down. Due to your position, the grooves of your cleavage were slightly exposed, enhanced by the propping up by your elbows on the couch.

Hange suddenly started doing really bad at the game, their fumbling allowed Levi to throw them off and back them into the far edge of the screen, hit after hit until the health bar lowered fully and a low 'fatality' sounded out from the speakers.

"Fucking finally!" Levi exclaimed, shocked but happy that he won a match at long last. Hange groaned, setting the controller down, standing up to stretch their limbs, tank riding up their stomach as they did so.

"I don't even know how that happened, man." "Needa get your head in the game!" Levi was revelling in his win, clearly it must not happen very often for him. "Big talk for someone who lost every other match," Hange teased, taking a sip from their bottled water as they glanced up at you.

"Wanna play?" They asked, passing you the remote. "Nah, I'm good, would rather watch you beat Levi." "Man, screw you." Levi chuckled, knowing you weren't wrong. He had won by pure chance, and perhaps a little added distraction.

You moved around the couch to enter the kitchen for some snacks, Hange's gaze trailing after you as you walked away. Eyes falling down to subtly observe the way the hem of your shorts cut off a little too far up on your thighs, shaping around the curve of your ass as the soft fabric swished with your movements. You looked fucking good, with your hips that now filled out any pair of your jeans, smooth thighs and nice bre—

"Stop that," Levi tutted, smacking his hand hard on the back of Hange's head. "Hey! Stop what?" Hange responded, more defensively than they'd like to admit, rubbing their head over where Levi's knuckles had collided. "Staring at her," He whispered, not wanting you to hear from within the kitchen. He could hear you messing with plates and opening drawers, it was safe for now.

"I wasn— wasn't staring at her, man." "Sure. It's not like I have eyes or anything," Levi rolled his eyes, "Just don't stare at my sister like that, creep."

Hange scoffed, lowering their gaze to the remote, they weren't being a creep, right? You just got really hot, it wasn't a crime to look. It's not like they were going to actually try anything. You were Levi's little sister, for crying out loud!

"Whatever, man, let's just play," Hange muttered, loading the next match up. "Don't forget the promise." Levi murmured, eyes locked on the screen, not even looking at them as he said it.

Ugh, the promise.

The promise that Levi made his male, straight friends make to him, and then Hange, too, when they came out as a lesbian, the 'don't you dare try anything on her,' promise.

It happened one day after he caught Jean eyeing you up perversely, followed by an inappropriate comment about just how attractive you got and that he'd willingly take you out, amongst other things. Levi, being unimpressed as always, slapped him across the head, not so kindly letting him know you were strictly off-limits. That he shouldn't dare try anything, lest he face Levi's wrath.

He may have found you annoying, but you were still his sister. No matter what, he'd always want to keep you away from certain things, if he could help it. Canoodling around with Jean and ending up hurt was one of them, he didn't want another comment to be made like that in the future, so he made the others promise, too.

Hange wasn't like that, weren't a player by any means. Quite the opposite, respectful of women and monogamous, in fact, Hange had been the victim of being cheated on a few times. Never the other way around.

No, his motivations for making Hange promise were different than when he made Jean do it. Hange was his longest and most closest friend, he'd be damned if something were to happen between you, get fucked up and cost him their friendship. Didn't want the uncomfortable risk of being made to pick sides when something goes wrong and lose it all.

So that was that, you were off-limits. It was made abundantly clear. He didn't really care what you did with people he didn't know, or wasn't close with, isn't his business, frankly. But anyone in his friend group? No way. That was way too close for comfort.

"No one could forget the promise, Levi, y'never let 'em." Hange huffed, he had always been so insistent with it. "Good."

Hange hated that promise, with a passion. I mean, it's not like they intended to break it, and hurt Levi. But, come on? A promise? It's not like they'd fuck you around. You meant way more than that.

With a plate full of little cut up fruits in your hand, you stepped back into the living room, humming a random tune to yourself. Painfully, blissfully unaware of the conversation that had just taken place between them.

Hange made sure to keep their eyes locked in on the screen, especially as you sat yourself down on the floor in front of the couch, directly in front of Hange so you wouldn't block the television. Then especially as you grabbed at the squares of cut watermelon, propping it on your tongue and even more especially when Hange caught little drops of fruit juice trickling down the corner of your mouth. Their eyes darted away quickly, frenzied button smashing as they beat Levi again.

With an annoyed groan from Levi and a loud cheer from you, Hange felt a swell of pride within their chest as you rejoiced in their win against your brother. This is bad, they thought, they need to push that shit all the way down. And quickly.

—

A few days had passed, and the conversation they had the other day was completely forgotten, at least by Levi. It was eating Hange up alive. Guilt feeding at their chest as they knew none of this wouldn't end well, one way or another. It was getting harder and harder to be around you and pretend. Pretend that they weren't having weird thoughts about their best friend's sister.

Maybe Levi would make an exception for them?

Hange grunted, head in their hands as they knew that would simply never happen. Levi had made it too big an issue of it to simply back down now.

They were dreading the barbecue your family had so kindly invited them to, Hange was pretty much an honorary member of the household. Your parents absolutely loved them. Hange would hate to ruin that. Their own family wasn't as nice, or as welcoming. Hange felt extremely grateful that they had been given a second home and been able to experience what it was actually meant to be like. That couldn't all just go down the drain.

And yet, there you were.

Amongst the members of your family and invited friends, you were sitting outside on a deck chair, huddling around the table with Mikasa and another unidentified person, some buff woman with a long, blonde braid, whispering to each other, god knows what about. Your hand was cradled around the glass of your self-made cocktail, the other gesturing to match whatever you were talking about, a bright smile on your tainted dark-red lips and long-winged eye-liner to match.

Hange couldn't help but stand there and admire you. Levi's words echoed in their head whilst they looked at how the short, white dress fit around your chest. The way it tightly hugged your waist and flowed out. Levi's words repeated over and over like a mantra all the while.

I'm so fucking screwed.

That feeling soon doubled, however. Hange was sipping on their cold beer, taking a long swig of it. Their fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle as that unnamed person next to you placed their muscled arm around your waist. Comfortably and without a care in the world. Like it was so easy for them. The twist in their chest exacerbated when you leaned into their touch, placing your head on their shoulder, as you continued speaking with Mikasa.

Hange broke their gaze away as Levi shouted them over, asking for them to grab some spare cutlery from the kitchen. Being close enough with your family, Hange was often tasked with helping out. They didn't mind, honestly they'd rather go clean the whole damn kitchen if it meant not watching the way the blonde carelessly nuzzled her nose into your neck, and the giggles that left your lips. Hange wanted it to be them.

They quickly made their way into the empty house, the guests enjoying the sunshine outside as your father singed spiced meat on the barbecue. Chattering and drinking away. All of them without a care.

Hange stood there for a few seconds, trying to regulate themselves and rationalise. That the image of that shouldn't have affected them so much. They were being a terrible friend to Levi by even allowing the discomfort, by allowing the anger to be fuelled by a sight of you cuddling up to someone else. Knowing that they could never freely do so.

Hange didn't hear you step into the kitchen, about to grab some paper towels for the drink you'd spilled all over the table outside.

"Um, are you okay?"

Your recognisable voice rang out amongst the silence, Hange's head turning towards you.

"Oh—um, yeah, yeah, I'm good." Lies.

"You sure?" You stepped closer to them, placing a hand on their bicep with concern. Hange could smell the intoxicating signature perfume you always wore, vanilla with tones of lavender, "You were just kinda stood there?" Your expression was worried, brows furrowed as you looked them over.

You had always been so caring, especially towards Hange, but right now it was just stressing them out. Too confusing. It was allowing them to think too deeply on the why.

"I just... forgot what I came here for," Another lie. Yet, the way it came out from them was way too easy, one of the perks of growing up in a house where you had to evade certain truths to avoid harsh punishment.

You bit your lip and furrowed your brows, a hint that you didn't quite believe what they were spewing, but decided not to push it.

"Alright, I just came for some napkins," Your hand left their arm, "You should join us out there, Mikasa wants to ask you stuff about her course, you both study the same thing."

Greaat. Hange wanted to throw themself on the barbecue. Of fucking course.

Hange and Levi were in their last year of college, due to graduate this year. Mikasa started studying the same course, Hange remembered you mentioning it once. Normally, they'd have no qualms about helping out, but right now? Having to sit with you all, right next to the woman they had no idea you were even seeing? And watch helplessly as she touched you in the places Hange so desperately wanted to in her stead? No, thank you.

But Hange has never been able to say no to you. So with a heavy heart, and a stiff smile they nodded. "Would love to,"

—

Hange was not having a happy fun time. Having joined your table with Levi, in hopes that it wouldn't be so suspect if he was there, too. It was fucking difficult, trying to eat your dad's delicious cooking and your mother's famously drizzled salad, whilst you and the other girl, who they now know was called Abby, were chatting amongst yourselves.

Hange tried to focus on the questions about the course that Mikasa had. Tried to be helpful, not glaring at the muscled blonde that enjoyed touching you up at a family gathering a little too much. How could Levi not have a problem with this? How could he sit there and eat nonchalantly like his little sister wasn't getting felt up by this stranger you'd invited?

Hange would never be able to do this, not in a million years.

Mikasa had eventually ran out of questions for Hange, leaving the table with the typical silence that befalls over people enjoying a good meal. Apart from you and Levi bickering a little bit, and a few chatters between you, Mikasa and Abby, there was a lot of empty gaps.

Hange was usually someone that had a lot to say, with a lot to contribute to group outings, sometimes even too much. But right now? They could barely find a word to utter. Focusing on sipping their beer and finishing their meal. All whilst trying to ignore how Abby's hand landed at your thigh, with a squeeze so subtle that no one else batted an eye at it, except Hange.

They were hyperaware of all of the touches, and not proud to admit how it made their entire body seethe. Was this your new girlfriend? Hange didn't even know you were into women. Obviously, asking in the past would've probably made Levi question their motives, so they just always assumed you were straight, accepting they didn't have a chance. Hange's brain felt heavy, so full of thoughts that just wouldn't stop.

"Are you feeling better?" The sweetness in your voice didn't help, neither did the cautious look in your eyes as you asked them the question, clearly still thinking about Hange's odd behaviour from earlier. "Yeah, why?" "You've been quieter than usual, weirdo, it's freaky." said Levi, picking his food apart with a fork.

"I'm fine." They muttered, necking the last dregs of the bottle, hating how the attention had turned to them. Focus on the weird stranger feeling up your sister, not me!

After a while, Hange and Levi excused themselves, leaving the table and going to play video games in the living room, Hange thanked their lucky stars they could finally leave the table. Storming away would've brought too many questions they weren't ready to answer yet.

—

Night fell, the guests had left, your parents had gone to bed and all that remained was you and Abby chatting outside. Hange was nested on the couch in the dark, cozied up with a blanket. Levi didn't like sharing his bedroom very often, so Hange was sometimes exiled to the couch— it was a really comfortable couch, though, so it wasn't the worst scenario.

No, the worst scenario was right outside the backyard door, trying to creep inside quietly. Hange thought it was just you, at first, trying to drunkenly enter the house without waking your parents. They hadn't expected to see the Abby's silhouette trailing behind you, hand in hand.

It was dark, but certain lights from the outside were shining through the door, which was more a slidable window than a door. Hange wanted to sink into the couch when they heard your soft gasps as they could make out Abby pressing you up against the wall. Followed by the low smacking of lips against your neck as you let out a quiet moan, Abby quickly covered your mouth with her palm to keep you quiet, with a gentle, ssh. Clearly, neither of you noticed the other presence in the room, sat on the couch with an unfortunate view of the whole thing.

This was torture. Was this God's punishment for emotionally breaking Levi's promise? For having such thoughts about you and weird, romantic feelings towards you since you were both teens?

Hange shut their eyes, heart racing from accidentally witnessing the intimate sight, awkwardly covering their face with the blanket so they could see no more. Wishing that their torture would end. Unfortunately, they could still hear you kissing each other as you led Abby upstairs to your bedroom. They could still hear your door shut and the subsequent creaking of your bed right above their head.

They just didn't happen to hear the way you accidentally ended up moaning Hange's name into Abby's ear as she fucked you.

—

You were mortified.

So ashamed of your own actions as the sober morning awoke your thoughts. It had been a very awkward encounter between you and Abby.

Look, you weren't dating, it was a purely physical relationship. It started a few weeks ago when you needed some quick relief from someone you trusted and Abby happened to feel the same. You were both on the same page that there were no feelings involved, a simple friends with benefits agreement. A you scratch my back, I scratch yours, situation.

That doesn't mean that explaining to your college friend why you had moaned your brother's childhood best friend's name into her ear as she was knuckles deep inside you was a fun conversation to have. You didn't exactly fucking mean to, Hange had just looked so delicious all day, as they always did, you couldn't get them out of your mind. Plus, they were behaving odd yesterday, and as a concerned citizen, of course they had ended up on your mind? That was normal, right?

Abby was understanding, of course, she was, she was the sweetest. Even going as far as wishing you good luck and hoping that it ends up with the outcome you want. It didn't alleviate the embarrassment, though, finding yourself locked alone in the early morning hours as Abby vacated your house. You didn't want to face Hange, even if they didn't know what happened— you did, that was enough motivation to isolate yourself for the rest of eternity.

The sound of your stomach rumbling was the only thing that propelled you out from your bed, forcing you to go downstairs and feed yourself some breakfast. So imagine your horror as you saw Hange laying on the couch, awake, watching videos on their phone in the early hours of the morning, as they sometimes do when Levi doesn't feel like sharing his tiny bed. He was a notoriously late riser. Did they see you and Abby last night? You'd been a bit too inebriated last night to notice if they had been there whole time. That just makes you feel even worse.

Hange was the one you wanted. You had always wanted Hange, even when you were younger and didn't realise what that drive was called. As you grew up and realised what it was, you just shoved it deeply away for Levi's benefit, knowing he was uncomfortable with you dating his friends. What a shitty situation.

"Looked like you had fun last night," Hange spoke without looking at you, eyes stuck on their phone. They don't know why they even said that. They shouldn't have said anything at all. It was none of their business, and it shouldn't matter. You weren't theirs. It shouldn't bother them if you were dating someone else, it definitely shouldn't make their chest tighten a cold grip around their throat at the thought of you sleeping with someone else.

"Uh, did you see anything?" what a great job of not sounding suspicious.

"I saw enough to know you had fun," Hange muttered, rolling their eyes, lifting themself up into a seated position.

"I'm so sorry, we didn't realise anyone was here," The shame was visibly clear in your voice, the way it fumbled and stuttered, "I wouldn't have done that if I saw you were here."

"Wouldn't have slept with her or wouldn't have done it in your living room?" It was out before Hange could stop it, resenting the reeking jealousy hanging off their words. They had no right.

"I.. it's not like I slept with her right on top of you." You defended, not enjoying Hange's clear disappointment towards you, it didn't feel good in your stomach.

"Hm— it was close enough." stop it, Hange, what exactly are you doing? Their inner monologue shouted at them.

"Please, like you've never slept with anyone before." You crossed your arms over your chest, sighing, getting visibly more upset.

"I—you're right. I'm sorry, it's not my place." Hange ceded, taking a deep breath that matched yours. Finally looking in your direction to make eye contact. They didn't love the guilt that was riddled on your face, they shouldn't have made you feel bad for that. It wasn't fair on you.

You eased up at their words, uncrossing your arms as you placed yourself next to them on the couch. Dropping on the cushion beside them with a loud thump.

"Please, just don't tell Levi, okay? I don't wanna hear it."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Hange's expression was vague, a weird mix of defeat and weak despair, their teeth drawing in their lower lip. You rested your head against Hange's shoulder, it felt too tense, a frigid air haunting the room as they placed their head over yours.

"She's not my girlfriend, alright, we just sleep together sometimes." There was no reason for you explain yourself, not officially anyway. You just didn't want Hange to think that you were dating Abby.

Hange nodded, ignoring the punch of all punches that just punctured deep within their chest, "Don't worry, I won't say anything, dear." Their words were soft, a sudden contrast to the escalating conflict that was about to happen moments before. Lifting your head slightly, your eyes met, looking up at Hange, who matched the eye contact. Both of you just sat there for a few seconds, gazing at each other with terse silence. Both forced to sit with the uncomfortable tension.

Against your better judgement, your gaze sunk to Hange's lips, just before the sound of Levi's bedroom door opening upstairs split you two away from each other. Heart race sped up against your ears as the both of you jumped up into proper posture like you hadn't just been inches apart a second ago. Levi was whistling as he came down the stairs, and you prompted yourself to finally get yourself some breakfast.

Staying inside the house was too much for you today, it was a Friday night, you should go out and have fun! Forget all these weird thoughts and just let loose. You messaged Mikasa whilst your bread was toasting, asking if she was up for going out later. Once she answered with an agreement, you had eaten your toast and told Levi you had plans for the night. Your parents had left early that morning for a weekend get-away, leaving him in charge of the house.

—

On the Uber ride back home from the bar, you felt bad for the poor driver. He had to listen to you and Mikasa talk nonsense and laugh hysterically at literally nothing reasonable, you had to remember to give him a tip. He definitely deserves it. Nothing worse than dealing with stupidly drunk people when you're stone sober. You ended up drinking more than you intended, spilling your feelings to Mikasa who listened intently to your woes before trying to get your mind off things—off Hange specifically.

The Uber reached your house, and you said your goodbyes, making sure Mikasa was sharing the trip with you so that you could make sure she got home safely, too. Girl code, you know?

At your doorstep, you struggled to find your keys, lost deep in the depths of your tote bag. You don't even know why you still used them, they were bad for your posture and everything gets lost in them. You resorted to loudly knocking on the door repeatedly so Levi could let you in.

"Why are you banging on the door like you're being chased?" Hange said, why they opened the door and not your brother, you were too drunk to figure out.

"I.. can't find my keys,"

Hange sighed, chuckling as they let you in. Seemingly over the encounter you both shared that morning. You definitely weren't.

"Where's Levi?" You mumbled, tripping over your the doorstep as you attempted to make your way inside, clawing at the wall to keep yourself stable. You hoped that sober you wouldn't remember that.

"On the phone to your parents, they wanted him to take a photo of something they forgot to take," Hange grabbed your wrist, holding you up as they brought you inside, "Just how drunk are you?"

"Hella," you laughed, your eyes sparkling up at them. Drunkenness evident in your face just by your eyes.

"Great, your parents won't want to see you like this,"

"What—I'm fine! I got home okay?" You argued, before Hange shushed you so that your parents couldn't hear your drunken slurring, grabbing your phone from your pocket, "Need to check if Mikasa did,"

Catching Levi's attention, he twisted his neck around to see what was going on, muting the microphone from his phone, so he could speak to Hange.

"Is she drunk?" He sighed, unamused and definitely not impressed.

"Like a pirate." Hange responded, still holding you up by your wrist, you glanced at their bare arms. Putting your phone away as the notification that Mikasa's journey had ended.

"I'm not that drun—"

"Fucks sake, Hange, take her upstairs." Levi interrupted you, tutting, not wanting to turn the mic back on until you'd both gone upstairs.

Hange pretty much carried you up, following behind you on the staircase like a bodyguard, with an arm held out to ensure that you didn't fall over and break something. Once you reached your bedroom safely, Hange brought you to your bed, taking off your boots and jacket before making you lie down on the mattress. You just looked up at them as they helped you wordlessly, watched as they grabbed a water bottle from your bedside table and passed it to you.

"You should drink some of that before you sleep, it'll help you tomorrow."

"I don't need water, like I said, I feel fine..." You argued again, ignoring that the room was spinning too much as you finally laid horizontally. Alcohol was grim.

"Just drink it." Hange crossed their arms, not budging until you lifted the bottle to your lips, almost drinking half of it before setting it down. Hadn't realised how thirsty you actually were.

"There, happy?"

"Very, goodnight." They turned around to leave you, hand hovering over the light-switch.

"Hange, wait." You shouted, they turned back around to face you, as you continued, "Can you stay with me? The room is spinning—don't wanna throw up."

Hange's eyes widened, mouth splitting open. "I.. don't think that's a very good idea." Levi was right downstairs, what if he thinks Hange was taking advantage of you or something?

Your persistence was almost admirable, lips curved into a slight pout as you gaze broke through theirs, reaching over to tug at Hange's shirt, "Please, Hange?"

With this, Hange was once again reminded of their inability to say no to you, sighing with defeat as they sat just an inch on your bed, their back to you as you were laid down. The awkward distance in between made it clear that they were planning on leaving again shortly, deciding to just linger around until you fell asleep, messing with their nails to pass the time. You were taking a while to drift away though, not happy with how far they were sitting from you, like you were contagious.

Whilst they were distracted with their fiddling, you drunkenly thought it was a good idea to grab the back of their shirt. Pulling at it until Hange was laying side by side to you, you ignored Hange's surprised yelp and rested your head on their chest. It felt more secure than the pillow, the room not spinning as much.

"That's better," you beamed, happy with yourself, snuggling in between Hange's arm as you sighed contently, basking in their warmth. Meanwhile, Hange was panicking, praying that Levi wouldn't walk in and think the worst. They hoped you couldn't feel their heart speed up with your proximity, or the quickened rises of their chest with your head snuggled into them as you tucked your feet underneath yourself.

Hange tried to ease their racing heartbeat by looking around your room. It was very you. Your personality all over the walls and decorations. Hange thought you had drifted off by then, until your voice broke the calming silence.

"You're so pretty, Hange."

They turn to face you, heart skipping as they see the starry admiration in your eyes, attributing that to the alcohol.

"You've clearly had too much to drink," Hange tries to shrug it off, despite the hot red splotching in their cheeks. They messed with their eyebrow piercing, spinning it around, a habit that formed quickly after it healed.

You firm it though, the many volumes of gin in your system easing your words out, "No. I always thought it, even when I wasn't legally allowed to drink," you huffed, nuzzling deeper into their chest, almost reaching the crook of Hange's neck.

Hange was freaking out, fumbling to think of a response, convincing themself that you were just drunkenly babbling—desperate to not let a little spark of hope develop into an unstoppable force. Yet, you held firm as an immovable object, wanting them to know just how serious you were. So they just scoffed, leaning their head back against your headboard in false nonchalance.

"I mean it! I had a little crush on you when we were younger."

Hange short-circuited, you had a crush on them? Wait—what do you mean by had? Did it disappear? Dissipated and lost in the wind as your network of people expanded and Hange wasn't the only person in your close proximity? They had a crush on you, too, but it never left.

Your head fell forwards, the weight of your own head too heavy to hold up any longer as it sank lower and lower, eventually resting totally on Hange. "Always wanted you to like me back—it's embarrassing..." you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as your voice grew more drowsy, "Maybe one day."

Just Hange's luck, right? They wanted you to fall asleep that entire time and you'd refused, but as soon as you put those blasphemous words out there, sleep had already gotten its grip on you. By the time Hange worked up the courage to look down at you, you were snoozing away, regular, soft breaths escaping as you slept peacefully— unaware of the brain damage you just inflicted.

Well, shit, what now?

—

Levi was subsequently left alone downstairs the entire night. He knew he asked Hange to take you upstairs, but they'd been up there for a damn long time, now. It's not like he didn't trust Hange, he'd trust Hange with his life and yours any day. They were not a threat in any sense of the word.

But he had this itchy feeling in the back of his head, that he just had to go check out what was happening. He took himself up the stairs, waiting outside your bedroom door for a minute to sus if he could hear anything through the walls. At the silence, he turned the doorknob and looked at the scene.

Your boots, side by side in line on the floor against your bed. Your jacket neatly folded up at the edge of the bed. And then you, cradling a half-empty bottle of water as you were cozied under Hange's arm, both fully dressed, sleeping soundly and undisturbed on their chest. Hange was gone, too. Lost the fight against sleep as their head was leaning against the headboard, not the comfiest position but he'd seen Hange sleep in way worse conditions.

You two looked.. almost sweet. Innocently sleeping on each other that it almost made Levi feel guilty about the stupid promise. Almost.

The risk was still too strong a threat. Too big a risk to chance. It's not like he was stupid, he'd clocked your attraction to each other a long time ago, he just hadn't anticipated there being emotional sweetness along with it. With a sigh, Levi closed the door and went to his own bedroom.

—

Light was beaming through your curtains, your eyes fluttered open as you awoke. Luckily, your head wasn't pounding too much, you were thankful that you got minimal level hangovers. The only thing you needed was water, throat feeling scratchy, but you just felt so comfortable. Your eyes opened properly, the strain of sleep having latched your eyes shut, a saw what you were laying on. Or rather—who.

Hange was fast asleep beside you, neck bent slightly to the side, their arm was around your back and your arm around their stomach. Your stomach sank as you noticed you had been cuddling them in their sleep, as memories of last night started popping through your mind. That's embarrassing, you thought. Looking back at Hange, you took the opportunity to admire them. Freely allowing yourself to admire their long eyelashes that casted lines of shadows on their skin, that lovely nose as it dipped into their septum piercing. Plump lips pouty as they rested. They were beautiful, breathtaking in the soft light of the morning.

Picking yourself up, you quickly made your way through to the bathroom to brush your teeth, promptly returning back to your spot on the bed.

You grabbed a water bottle, it'd been wedged underneath you during your sleep, hurting your ribs a little bit. There was half of it left, that's enough for now. Attempting to be quiet as you drank, but it was obvious that the crackles of plastic were too loud for Hange to continue sleeping, lifting their head as their gaze fell on you. "Hi." you breathed out, a cautious greeting against the silence in the room.

"Hi." Hange rasped out, voice deeper, coated with sleep. You sat up, not wanting to make Hange feel uncomfortable by leaning yourself against them any longer.

"How you feeling?" they asked, using the free space around them to sit up straight and stretch out their back, cracking as it did.

"Fine.." you responded, "uh—thank you for helping me last night."

Hange's cheeks heated up, breaking contact as they cleared their throat. So did you remember? Did you remember the haunting words you whispered into the night as you fell asleep?

"Yeah—um, no need to thank me," "Well, still—thank you for staying with me."

Hange nodded, their demeanour deflating as they failed to hold eye contact with you. What could they say? That they would stay with you forever if you asked? That they would gather you in their arms and keep you comfortable any day if it meant seeing the content smile on your lips? That they wished you had meant those sacred words?

"I'm—uh—a little embarrassed," You muttered, playing with the rimmed edges on the bottlecap, "I—"

"Y'don't need to explain—I get it, you were drunk."

Gaping up at them, you let out a sigh, "That.. wasn't what I was gonna say."

Hange was slipping away from you, their usual tender sweetness towards you covered by an uncharacteristic stiffness. You had no choice but be honest with them. Hange deserves to know the truth.

"I meant it, you know? That's why I'm embarrassed."

That seemed to grab their attention, their eyes finally meeting yours. The rise and fall of their chest increasing, eyebrows quipping up, you continued.

"I've always liked you," you whispered, "I just wish it didn't come out like that, if it hadn't maybe you'd believe me."

"But, Abby—"

"Was a distraction. A bad way of keeping myself away from you," you grabbed their hand, holding it, "'cos I don't know if you've noticed, Hange, but it's always been you."

Hange's mouth split open, lips moving as they thought of a response. You took the surprise on their face and the silence on their lips as an admission that your feelings just simply weren't returned.

"I-I know it's a lot to put on you, I'm sorry— I just couldn't hold it in—"

"I feel the same way." was their direct response, cutting you off before you could take the words back. To stop them from seeping into the walls and being long forgotten.

Biting your lip, eyes staring at one another's nervously, contrasting the serenity of the bedroom's illumination. Tentatively, you reached out a hand, placing it lightly on Hange's jaw. Letting out a soft breath, Hange's eyes fell shut, deeply nudging their face closer into the caress of your hand. Eyes only opening when they felt your body budge itself on the bed, seeing how close you now were to their lips.

"Hange," you muttered, words laced with your nerves. Your stomach rippling with uncertainty, the anticipation making you shiver as you leaned closer to them, lips inches away from theirs.

"We can't," Hange whimpered, the hesitation evident, "Levi will kill me." Their voice was so quiet, scared to utter the fact that you both knew. You're off-limits. No matter how much they craved feeling your lips on theirs. That facts remained.

"I don't fucking care about Levi."

Truthfully, you've simply had enough of your older brother being an obstacle in the only relationship you wanted. Throughout the span of your life, you've yearned for Hange, there's no way you'd allow this chance to escape you.

"If we both want this," Your dangerously sweet whispers were serpentine, like a siren sinking a sailor to their certain death. Even as your heart was racing, one of your thighs moved over Hange's stomach, until eventually you were straddling over them, Hange's dainty hands trembled as they delicately hovered over your thighs, almost scared to touch you, "Why should it matter?"

Dampening your bottom lip with a quick dart of your tongue, you leaned into them again, thighs tightening around Hange's midsection as that little black dress of yours from last night rode up, exposing more of your legs. Hange gripped the skin of your plush thighs so hard, a testament to their restrained desires.

"Why should he stop you from going after what you want?"

Your lips met the skin below Hange's ear, grazing light pecks that caused goosebumps up their spine. Hange was breathing heavily beneath you, head hanging back as they bit back sighs. Their conflicting thoughts seeping in their brain, overshadowed by the skimming of your lips burning their skin.

"Fuck—"

Hange lifted their thigh, pressing it against the centre of your legs, as your teeth sunk over their neck. Sucking on the soft skin and running your tongue over. Hange couldn't hold back a little whimper at the contact, especially as your hips began rolling, rubbing your clothed centre over their propped up thigh.

"I—I want you so bad, Hange, please."

That was it. The rope of restraint snapped, the moment had reached over its boiling point as you whimpered against their neck. Hange grabbed the top of your spine, eyes meeting briefly before they melded their lips over yours. 

You were whirling, hips grinding against Hange as your lips connected ardently. Feverishly slow open-mouthed kisses as you gasped into each other's touch. Years of mutually hidden cravings possessing your actions, feeling your tongues brushing desperately over into each other's mouths. Hange tugged at your ass, gripping at the skin through your clothes with a tight clasp.

Hange then separated your lips, looking up at you through their pretty eyelashes to gaze upon your state. With your eyes black with desire, they guided your hips into rhythm against their leg. Leaning their head up to kiss your neck, low, gentle pecks echoing within the room as you were trembling on top of them, chest rising and falling and your sinewy thighs trapping them underneath you. What a sight.

"Hange—"

Hearing their name slip from your lips in such a desperate manner, Hange felt like they should be locked up. The heavy sound of your low whimpers of their name causing a stir of their own burning heat to travel.

Levi was certainly going to kill them, good thing he's still asleep. Unaware of the way Hange was touching his sister in the next room. The whole thing was sinful, just reprehensible. The promise long forgotten, shoved to their back of their mind.

"You're fucking delightful, angel,"

Hange lifted themself up, back straight and chest tightly pressed to yours. Their hand rising from your ass to grip your lower back, fingers holding you in place to jut their knee against your core, their palm guiding your hips against them. Lips met again to quieten the gasps threatening to escape from within your throat. They couldn't deal with an interruption right now.

The pattern of movement in your hips faltered, grabbing Hange's wrist to place their free hand upon your clothed breast. Hange could feel your hardened nipple poking through the fabric, as their thumb rubbed over—god what they wanted to do. What they would do to see you without your layers, barren and exposed for them.

"I'm so—fuck— love seeing you like this," Your eyebrows were furrowed at their hushed words, teeth skimming over your bottom lip, it spurred them on more, "Thought about this so much, angel."

"Yeah?" You egged them on, pressing yourself harder against their knee, Hange could feel the dampness seeping through your underwear as your shaking hands reached down to unbutton Hange's jeans. They should've come off a long time ago, "I've thought about it, too—god—thought of your fingers, your mouth on me—fuck."

Unbuttoned jeans, and your dress just on as a formality, bunched up in folds around your waist. Hange lifted you up from their knee, your confession driving them over the edge. If only they knew how many times you touched yourself to the thought of them late at night.

Tugging the hem of your dress over your head, immediately catching the way your skin rippled from the chill in the air, nipples perked up and stiffened as your chest was heaving. A trail of hair leading down from your navel to your pussy, still covered by your lacy underwear, it drove Hange stupid.

"Shit— that's fucking hot," Hange rasped, words tight in their throat, desperately trying to keep their voice down.

Wasn't long before Hange was undressed, too. You made sure of that, ripping the shirt off their torso and helping to pull down their jeans. Both of you unclothed in front of each other. Your hands grazed over their breasts, admiring the tattoo beneath their collarbone, spread over the top of their chest, and their tatted forearms. Toned stomach twitching as your fingers travelled down from their chest to their abdomen.

Both of you just admired each other, before you brought your lips back together, open mouths chasing the sensation of each other's lips. You were straddling Hange again, rubbing yourself over their now bare thigh. Your dampness glistened on their skin with each roll, you felt fucking desperate.

"I'm burning for you, Hange—need your touch," You panted, losing yourself in the sight of Hange's slender barren body beneath you. Lost in the starry glaze within their eyes at you, tantalising. Hange groaned gently as they teased a finger on your slit through the fabric that was acting as the only barrier between your bodies, you twitched into their hand. Their knee wasn't enough, you craved more.

"What d'you want, angel?"

"Your mouth, fuck—please-"

The begging left you before you could help it, all you could think about was feeling Hange on you, anywhere, everywhere. Hange squeezed your thighs, laying their spine flat on the bed as they prompted you along their torso, your pussy accidentally grazing over their nipple, inches away from their mouth.

"Sit on my face, angel," Hange ordered, voice lowered and strained at the turned-on shock on your features. Hesitantly, you hovered over their waiting mouth, lacy underwear still on, trying to argue, "But I still have my—"

"ssh—just sit, baby." Hange was determined, hands rubbing over your bare skin as you shuddered on top of them. Silky thighs spread, opened just for them, like an unfurled deity, waiting patiently to be worshipped. They loved seeing you above them like this, aching for them. The slab of your stomach tensed as you tentatively placed yourself over their inviting mouth, feeling their wet tongue brush over your clothed slit.

The texture of the damp lace through their tongue pressing against your clit caused you to let out a shaky moan, a hand coming to grip the headboard, the other covering your own mouth. Hips began sliding autonomously over Hange's face as they sucked your pussy into their mouth, plump lips puckering over the fabric as their tongue swiped over in short bursts, with little pecks in between.

The top of your thighs started to burn from holding yourself up, legs shaking from the weight and the added sensation of Hange lapping underneath you, their muffled groans vibrating into your pussy. Hange's steady eyes were on you, watching. Their eyebrows pinched up as you both made contact. Their hands grabbed your hips, forcing you to rest your full weight on their face and ease the tension in your legs, you moaned into your palm as their tongue was closer to your throbbing centre. Spurred on by the intense way those amber eyes watched you whilst your mouth hung open. You ached to feel the wet muscle on you, to feel their warmth on you properly.

Hange's hand landed at your breast, kneading, your skin melted into the gaps between their fingers, the fat of your breast rolling underneath their hand. Hange's thumb teased over your nipple, spreading spurts of pleasure down your entire spine. Then Hange nipped the hem of your dampened, cotton underwear with their teeth and tugged it to the side, to expose your swollen pussy, leaking and throbbing in the cool air. A swipe of their tongue on your bare slit, lathering your sweet arousal on the tip of their tongue as they swallowed it, tasting you for the first time. They groaned out a muffled mm, into your centre, delighted by your taste. Before diving in to pleasure you properly, blissfully easing the tension that had built up in your core.

"That—hn— feels so good, Hange," your voice was muffled behind your palm, hips rocking over their face, coating their cheeks with your slick, their glasses fogging up with the honeyed arousal. You moved loose hairs from their face, fighting the wet strands as they clung to Hange's skin. "P-please don't fucking stop," you whimpered, gasping, losing control of your hips as you sat pretty on Hange's skilled tongue.

You could feel a coldness on your slit, realising Hange had a tongue piercing you never fucking noticed, the cold metal rubbing over your puffy centre. You leaned back, head hanging back at the chilled sensation, the contrast of Hange's warmth and the cold metal. Hange was struggling to breathe underneath you, clearly enjoying the light suffocation in between your thighs, eyes rolling back as their fingers harshly dug into your ass.

Your fingers travelled down Hange's stomach, reaching back behind you—feeling their abdomen twitch into your hand. Reaching Hange's centre, you rubbed your middle and index finger over their own swollen clit. Moaning as you felt how wet they were, their arousal matching yours in its desperation, Hange's legs spread out to give you better access. Aching for you as you ached for them.

Hange groaned weakly into your centre, lost in the scent, sight and taste of you as you played with their pussy above them, wanting to give them back some of the delectable pleasure they were giving you. Your perked up breasts were bouncing above them with the weight of gravity and the movement of your arm behind you, specks of sweat dripping down your stomach as you started losing rhythm in your hips, quickening up your rocking on their tongue, sometimes their nose would stroke over your clit, driving you further over the edge.

"Ah—fuck, 'm gonna cum," Your voice reached a higher pitch, you bit the back of your hand to stop yourself to shouting, "'m so fuckin' close, Han—gonna cum—fuuck."

Your hips twitched on Hange's face, they eagerly lapped up your arousal as it leaked from your throbbing hole, your release dripping down Hange's chin as they swallowed up what they could, like they were starved. Groaning happily beneath you as your fingers sped up against their clit.

You lifted your pelvis from their face, allowing them to breathe as you turned yourself over to focus on Hange. You placed yourself in between their welcoming, spread legs as they shook against your fingers.

"Fuck—angel.." Hange sighed, eyes closed as your fingers easily slipped inside them, lubricated by their own slick since you came on their tongue. They had been uncomfortably wet ages ago, but they were truly dripping now. Their own hips chased after your hand wretchedly as you curled three fingers against their cervix, rubbing over the squishy spot that had Hange throwing their head into the pillow. Hiding their face and mouth with their tatted wrist, their pelvis grinding into your hand whilst their body rocked from the repeated movements. 

You didn't like their face hidden away, obscured by their wrist, so you pulled at it with your free hand, tugging it down until it was trapped on top of their stomach, held down. Hange was crying out, not having a way to cover their face from being restrained, forcing them to expose their expressions as you worked your fingers diligently inside them.

"Shi—ah—keep going, fuck, please—just like that,"

In perfect circumstances, you'd have loved to hear Hange coming undone loudly for you, but right now you needed them to be more quiet, Levi was right in the next room. So, trapping their arm with your chest, you brought your fingers up to their mouth, rubbing over their bottom lip until they split open to suck in your fingers. Their sounds enveloped by your fingers in their mouth, fuck, the sight was heavenly. Your head dropped down, weakly faltering at the scene in front of you.

Hange's arm pushed your head down, moving you forcibly until your face was in front of their heat. The corner of your lips tilted into a self-satisfied smirk as you understood what they were asking of you.

"Want my mouth on you, hm?" you teased, fingers still curling into them as Hange hummed, their head feebly nodding, mouth full of your fingers. Chuckling, you lowered your head, swiping your tongue up their slit, revelling in the minute twitches of Hange's hips. The feeling of your tongue lewdly slurping up their arousal plus your fingers stretching their tight walls in a steady motion, Hange was close to oblivion. Breathlessly gaping down to watch you as you worked hard to please. The deity was in between their thighs, blithely moving your tongue down their pulsing centre.

Their hips faltered, Hange's face stiffening as their eyes rolled back, they were in your heavenly trap— how could they ever get out?

"G'na cum for me, Hange?" you mumbled, pussydrunk as Hange's abdomen tightened, their thighs taut against your head, dragging you impossibly closer. You whined into their core as Hange released the pressure of their climax into your mouth.

You popped your other fingers out of Hange's mouth, spreading their saliva around their jaw as they quivered, riding out their saccharine release.

"Fuuck," Hange's whimper was soft, spent, tired out from how hard they came. You sighed as you slipped your fingers out, lapping your digits dry of the droplets of their arousal.

"That's it," you soothed, tranquillising them as you brought your lips up to theirs, hands on their jaw as your naked chests rubbed against each other. Hange looked up at you, their eyes half-lidded as they caught their breath, both of you gazing at each other with unadulterated love in your eyes.

Feeling relatively rejuvenated, Hange's fingers trailed down to the curve of your ass, massaging the skin under your underwear, before ripping it down your thighs. They felt insatiable. Wanted this haze to last as long as possible. You yelped sharply, thinking they were too tired to continue, confused as Hange bent you over, your knees folded on the bed and your ass up.

Hange got into place behind you, caressing down your dimpled spine as their leg nudged you to spread your thighs apart. They ghosted kisses on your skin, hands rubbing over your lower body as they placed a knee in between your legs, teasing your entrance with two fingers.

"Oh, f-fuck," you gasped, head falling down into the mattress to silence yourself as Hange plunged two fingers inside you. There was no need for anymore teasing, you were absolutely dripping. Hange rocked their fingers deep into your cervix, fingertips reaching the back of your walls as your spine curved to let them in even further. A hand met your hip, squeezing the skin as they swung your hips to grind over their knee, stroking your clit as their pretty fingers fucked into you.

Hange thrust their own hips in rhythm with their fingers, imagining that they were fucking you with their strap as a proxy instead of their hands. Getting lost in their own imagination as the skin on your ass recoiled with each hit, you throwing your hips back to meet their thrusts.

"Shit—Hange," you whined, muffling into the blankets as you panted, feeling them move inside you as overstimulation struck. Your clit was so sensitive as it rubbed against their knee. Reaching your arm back, hand flailing for them to grab your hand, craving that extra connection. Hange's hand encompassed your own, gripping it as they didn't relent their movements, holding their chest against your back.

"Fuck, angel—I fuckin' love you," Hange muttered, losing grip on reality and the control over their mouth, not realising what they had just spoken into the universe. You clenched at Hange's words, tight walls sucking in their fingers as you trembled.

"Hange—hn, I love you, fuck,"

"Could be in this pussy forever, 's just fuckin' perfect," Hange drawled, more kisses at the back of your neck and you lost it. Mouth hanging open, you squirted all over the bed and Hange's knee, forcing out their fingers with a pop.

You stilled underneath them, catching your breath back as Hange kissed you through it. Turning your body to the side, in a daze, you met eyes. Truly fucked out.

Hange fell beside you, caressing your sides as you snuggled into their chest.

"Think we were too loud?"

"Hope not," you muttered, "He's a heavy sleeper," Hange chuckled at your answer. They hadn't quite come to the realisation that they had just fucked their best friend's sister into next week, breaking the one promise Levi ever held Hange to, not wanting to think about the consequences.

"You said you loved me," you whispered hesitantly, eyes closing against their heaving chest. A little fearful  of bringing it up in case it was just a heat of the moment thing, but since they said it, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

Hange stilled, feeling embarrassed that they uttered something like that during sex, they wouldn't have been as embarrassed about it if it wasn't true.

"I mean—I.. didn't lie,"

"You love me?" You looked up, it was hard to miss the way your doe eyes lightened up, specks of hope glimmering in them. Just like that, Hange's embarrassment dissipated.

"Yes, angel, I've loved you for a while," Hange moved a strand of your hair behind your ear, placing a kiss on your forehead. Biting your lip, you tried to withhold the smile that threatened to break out, failing miserably.

"I, I love you, too, Hange."

—

A week had passed, and Levi was none the wiser to the debauchery that took place in your bedroom that morning. Good, you thought, you weren't ready to tell him yet. You and Hange were in a good place, you didn't want Levi finding out and ruining everything.

Needless to say, you guys had begun secretly seeing each other. Hurried, covert kisses between you whenever he left the room. You couldn't help it, you were addicted, taking every chance you got to feel Hange against you. It'd been years waiting for this, there was no way you could go without it now. It wasn't like you could get much time by yourselves, anyway, you had to take what you could get and be grateful for it.

Dating Hange changed pretty much everything about your relationship, you were so much more comfortable around each other. That high-strung sexual tension that hung over both of you over the last few years had subsided, leaving space for an actual relationship to form where you could talk in comfort, behaving more normally around each other. That wasn't to say you didn't still want to fuck Hange's brains out, you just hadn't had a chance since that day, Levi was always hovering. You'd say he was more suspicious than usual, but why?

If he had heard anything that day, neither of you would be alive to tell the tale. He would've walked right in and killed you both on the spot. You felt like you'd been pretty inconspicuous, too, not saying anything out of the ordinary to Hange and not being touchy in front of him. Perhaps you may have been hanging around them more than usual, but would that be so suspicious?

Surely not, right?

You were craving some more alone time with Hange, wishing Levi would fuck off somewhere and leave you to it. You'd be ready to jump their bones at any given moment.

So when Levi left to go buy groceries for tonight's Hange was supposed to fixing something that had fucked up on their console. Hange's good at fixing things, often being tasked with doing so around the house. Trying to mask your excitement, not waiting to bait yourself out— you went up to your room. Waitied until Levi had got in his car and drove off before you messaged Hange to come upstairs.

Within seconds, Hange entered your room, giggling nervously as you pushed them up against the bedroom door, locking your lips on theirs.

"Hello to you, too," Hange chuckled, their slender hands grasping the sides of your head, getting the hint, as you slipped your tongue into their mouth. Hange moaning into the kiss as you slipped their shirt off, exposing their torso so you could bend your head and pop their nipple into your mouth. Rolling your tongue over the peak as Hange tightened their grip on you.

"Don't have much time, need you—now." you ordered, grabbing a hold of Hange's belt loops and dragging your bodies to the bed. Hange straddled over you as you made out in comfort, not worrying about volume for once. Hange unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down to your ankles as you whimpered sweetly against their lips. The kiss was fiery, both feeling pent up and looking for mutual release, craving each other so badly. No more hesitation unlike the first time.

You unbuttoned your shirt, leaving it hanging open revealing your stomach and breasts, your hands coming to massage your own nipples as Hange gaped down at you, eyes darkening.

"I have something for you," you panted, eyes lidded as you smirked impishly, a mischievous glint in your eyes that intrigued Hange. You reached down below the bed, opening a box and pulling out a long, thick strap, nibbling on your lower lip as Hange stared incredulously at the toy in your hand.

"Don't you wanna fuck me with it, Hange?" the tone of your voice was too enticing, too seductive as you rubbed your fingers over the silicone. Hange tensed up, watching you tease them with it before passing it into their clasp. Trying to ignore the deep stir swirling in their core, with illicit images of you bouncing on their strap swirling around at the forefront of their mind. Hange rushed to prop it over their legs, tightening the straps around their hips and upper thighs.

"You're gonna be the death of me, angel," Hanged sighed, hands clutching your pillowy thighs. They could feel their pulse thumping in their ears with desire, eager to use the new toy on you. Not unlike you, who'd been itching to show it to your partner as soon as you got it.

"Couldn't sleep last night, Hange, couldn't stop thinking of you fucking me with it," you whined, as Hange's fingers teased your clit with soft touches, lips tilting up at your lewd words.

"That right, angel?" you nodded, "Been touching yourself thinking about it?"

"Fuck, yes.. tried to finger myself to get off, but t'wasn't the same," you huffed, feeling yourself get drenched by your own words, "can't reach as deep as you,"

Hange groaned, sucking your nipple into their mouth as they stroked your clit. You were throbbing, the last few days of fantasising left you feeling needy as fuck. Hange slid two fingers into your slick entrance, letting out a deep moan at how wet you were, at the way your pussy just sucked them right in like they were always meant to be there.

Your eyes fell shut as Hange scissored their fingers against your squishy walls, savouring the stretch to prepare you for the strap. Raising your hand to your mouth, you licked a stripe up your palm and lowered your hand to rub the silicone as it hung from Hange's hips. Hange's head fell down, watching dumbly as you rubbed your hand over it as if it were Hange's actual flesh. You'd swear they could actually feel it, too, the way their mouth split open and their breaths grew heavy. The way it provoked them to remove their fingers and edge the silicone tip over your folds, spreading your own slick all over your pulsing pussy.

"Hange—just put it in, please," You tried to push against it, feeling how Hange was separating your folds apart to lubricate the tip, "'ve been so good,"

Hange chuckled as they saw how ruined you were without them even doing anything. Slowly, they pushed the strap through your entrance, "You have been so good, baby," they pushed up until it were completely buried inside you.

"'n you're g'na take me so well, aren't you, angel?", you were filled to the brim, tears rimming your eyes as you rutted your hips into Hange's, "G'na take every single inch of me, aren't you?"

"Fuck—fuck, yes, Hange," you cried out, not withholding the volume of your moans as Hange began to thrust the silicone deep inside you, hitting the sensitive spot at the very back, "'Y're so fucking deep, f-feels so damn good,"

Hange grabbed your hips, using it as a stabiliser to thrust the strap in and out, your breasts bouncing as your body rocked, whimpering as the familiar ball in your abdomen tightened. Hange stared down at where the silicone disappeared inside your puffed folds, their expressions contorting when it'd come out soaked, with a little white ring of your cum forming around the base.

"Look so fucking good like this, all filled up, shit—and all mine," Hange rasped, fingers left marks on your legs as they swung the silicone deeper inside you. They bent down to lick your nipple, teeth latching around the pebbled peak as your back arched into them.

"All yours—ngh—don't fucking stop," Your arms wrapped around Hange's neck, keeping them close to your body as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your legs slackened around their waist, short nails scratching at Hange's back as the pressure hitting against your cervix got overwhelming.

"W'na see you come all over my cock, fuck,"

The pressure tightened and tightened until your legs were squeezing around Hange, pulling them into you as you released, salacious whines slipping from your pretty lips. Hange moaned with you, sated that they could finally indulge in the libertine noises rolling off your tongue.

"That's it, fuckin' soak it," they muttered, "that's a good girl,"

Hange talked you through it as you came, gushing your slick all over their strap, effectively drenching your lower bodies. They pulled the silicone from your walls, the strap was lathered in your slick.

Your thighs trembled, coming down from your high, as Hange brought the strap to your lips, nudging your mouth open to lick it clean. You lapped up your own mess, Hange watching you intently whilst your tongue skimmed over the plastic. That awoke something in them, something they'd definitely mention next time, you already looked too spent.

Hange affectionally gave you kisses all over your face, praising you for being so good, that you took them so, so well.

"Y'sound divine when you come for me," they mumbled against your neck, those pretty sounds would be imprinted in their brain forever.

"Hange..." you covered your eyes, embarrassed at how loud you had been.

"No point being shy now, my love."

"Ugh," you chuckled, "We should get cleaned up,"

Hange got up and grabbed a towel from your wardrobe, drying your inner thighs off and wherever else you'd leaked your own slick on, before drying their own legs. You both re-clothed yourselves, freshening up and fixing hairstyles to look as if nothing happened. Levi shouldn't be back yet, anyway, you were in the clear for now.

Making your way downstairs, Hange trailing behind you on the stairs, you laughed amongst yourselves. However, that laughter died out immediately as you spotted Levi stood in your living room with his arms crossed, and an unreadable expression on his face.

The atmosphere very suddenly changed, the smile on your face dropped and Hange averted their eyes from their best friend, unable to look him in the eye, putting their hands into their pockets. The shamed guilt was written all over their face.

"Uh—" you tried breaking the silence, but the words got caught in your throat, Levi's glare was too haunting. There was no way in hell he didn't just hear you two fucking, and watched silently as you and Hange ignorantly made your blissful way downstairs. Your heart dropped, tears brimming your eyes as you waited for him to speak. Knowing that the peaceful bubble you and Hange had been in was about to be nastily ripped open.

"Well?" He finally spoke, eyes landing between you and Hange expectantly, "You got nothing to say?"

That last part was targeted especially towards Hange, who lifted their head to look at their best friend for the first time since both came down.

"Levi, I-I'm sorry—" Hange was trying so hard not to cry, "I didn't mean to break the promise, I'm sorry, it just—"

"Levi, stop this madness—we're both adults and I love Hange. You don't need to make them grovel and feel like shit," You bit out, sure, you felt a little bad, but this was way over the top. You weren't doing anything wrong. Neither was Hange.

"You love Hange?" He spat out, face tensing.

"Fuck's sake, yes! And for the record, the feeling is mutual, okay, we're dating— it's not like we're just fucking around for the hell of it."

"I see,"

"I know the promise means a lot to you, Lev," Hange stepped a little closer to you, and your gaze softened as they braved out a little smile at you, "But.. this is different,"

Levi stared at the both of you, almost apathetic. He looked down and sighed, tutting, "I knew this was gonna fucking happen,"

"Levi—"

"Stop, I'm... not angry." He rubbed two fingers over his nose bridge, "It's just a little weird, seeing it. Hearing it is a different matter, I'm gonna need fucking therapy for that,"

Hange cheeks burned, he could've just omitted the fact that he heard it, we all know he did, was voicing it out loud necessary?

"You're not mad?"

"I'm annoyed that you both lied to me, but I get it," he shrugged, "Just.. please be quiet from now on? And for the love of god if you have any arguments—don't come to me, I really don't wanna know."

—

[itsnesss]

𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬����𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 | lando norris × fem!reader

summary | you try to stay professional, but every glance from lando makes it harder to ignore what’s between you—especially now that the world is starting to notice too

warnings | slow burn, mutual pining, workplace tension, flirting with the line between professional and personal, angst, romantic buildup

word count | 2.0 k

🖇️ more ln4 🖇️ f1 masterlist

Working in Formula 1 had always been a clear goal. You had achieved it. Not as an engineer, nor as a mechanic. Not as a journalist or promoter. Your role was more complicated: to be the manager of one of the most popular, talented, and temperamental drivers on the current grid: Lando Norris.

You knew from the start it wouldn’t be easy. His history with previous managers was shorter than a qualifying lap. But you accepted the challenge. You studied him. His races, his interviews, his social media. You knew how his competitive mind worked, how he dealt with his sharp humor and that arrogant smile he used as a shield.

What you didn’t expect was that first encounter.

He greeted you in the private hospitality room, phone in hand, feet on the table. He didn’t even bother to stand up.

“Are you the new one?” he asked without looking up.

“The new one who will probably last more than three weeks, yes,” you responded, confident, firm.

That was the first time he looked at you. His eyebrows raised in interest and surprise. The analysis was quick, calculating.

“We’ll see,” he said, slowly lowering his feet.

The first few days were a trial by fire. Every plan you proposed, he twisted. Every interview you scheduled, he answered with sarcasm or showed up late. It was clear he enjoyed testing your limits. He wanted to see when you’d break.

But you didn’t.

One night, after an especially tense meeting with sponsors, you confronted him directly. Not in an aggressive tone, but with enough firmness to catch him off guard.

“If you’re looking for me to give up, you’ll be waiting a long time. I didn’t come here to beg you. I’m here to help you do your job better. If you’re not interested, just tell me now, and I’ll leave you to sabotage yourself.”

He held your gaze. Something tensed in his jaw, but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and turned his back. That night, however, he responded to your email with the corrected schedule. The next morning, he showed up on time.

And that was the beginning of something different.

As the weeks went by, the dynamic changed. He didn’t become friendly, at least not immediately. But he started listening to you. He began to share details with you that he didn’t share with anyone. The type of tires he felt most insecure about. His discomfort with the team’s simulator. The anxiety before a rainy qualifying.

It was like he was slowly taking off his armor. Not completely, but just enough to let you in. Not much. Just a little.

Then came Austria.

The weekend had been tough since Friday. Balance issues, strategy errors, and he was on the verge of emotional collapse. After failing to make it out of Q2, he locked himself in his paddock room. No one dared speak to him. No one, except you.

You walked in without asking for permission.

“Don’t come here with a motivational speech, please,” he grumbled without looking at you.

“I didn’t come for that,” you replied, throwing him a bottle of water. “I came to tell you that tomorrow you have interviews starting at 8:30. If you don’t show up, I’ll make sure they wake you up with a siren in your room.”

He turned slowly, with a half-smile that was tired.

“You’re more ruthless than my engineer.”

“Because he only has to deal with you on the track. I deal with you everywhere.”

And for the first time, he laughed. A real laugh. Short, dry… but sincere.

It was the first time you saw him as human.

The races continued, and with them, the routine that you had already memorized: waking up early, meetings with sponsors, managing interviews, checking social media, dealing with journalists, handling complaints from the technical team, and, of course, keeping Lando focused. Or as focused as Lando could be.

It wasn’t easy. Sometimes, it was exhausting.

But you had earned his respect.

And more than that.

It was subtle. He never said it directly, but you could feel it. In the way he listened to your advice without arguing. In how he waited for your reactions every time he made a joke in front of the cameras. In the way that, even though he had an entire communication team at his disposal, he only responded to you in messages.

One night in Japan, after a long day of testing, you found him sitting alone in the simulation room. The bluish light from the monitor illuminated his face, his jaw tense, his eyes tired.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Neither should you,” he replied, not moving.

“I have an excuse. They pay me to make you work fewer hours.”

“And you still don’t manage to.”

You approached and sat down next to him. Silence settled between you two, comfortable. The kind of silence that wasn’t awkward, but necessary.

“I can’t lose again,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You looked at him. It wasn’t arrogance. It wasn’t external pressure. It was personal. It was that need to prove he could. That he deserved to be where he was.

“You’re not going to lose,” you said softly.

He turned his head to look at you, with that intense gaze you knew so well. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t joking. He was just looking at you as if you were the only steady thing in his world that was spinning too fast.

“How do you know?”

“Because I can’t afford to lose either,” you replied.

A moment. Just that. A slightly longer blink. A slower breath. His fingers brushed against yours, by accident. Or maybe not. But neither of you pulled away.

Then, he stood up. Grabbed his jacket. Looked at you again.

“Come to the box tomorrow morning. I want to go over the sprint laps with you.”

“You trust my technical opinion that much now?”

He smiled. Tired, but genuine.

“I trust you, period.”

And he left.

After that, something changed. Not radically. But it was there. In the way he looked for you with his eyes as soon as he got out of the car. In how he defended you in front of the bosses when they criticized your methods. In the way you no longer just worked… but shared things. Opinions, jokes, silences. All with that underlying tension neither of you dared mention.

One day, in the Zandvoort paddock, a photographer from the team took a picture of you while you adjusted his cap before he went to an interview. It was nothing. Just a simple image.

But when it was published, the comments didn't take long to appear.

“New romance at McLaren?”

“The chemistry between Lando and his manager is undeniable.”

“Is it just us, or does that look say more than it should?”

You saw it at the end of the day. He had already seen it too. And he was waiting for you, leaning against the courtesy car, arms crossed.

“Did you read the comments too?” he asked, as if it didn’t matter.

“Yes. But I’m more interested in knowing if you’re going to go out and deny them,” you said, keeping your professional tone.

“And what if I don’t want to?”

The silence returned. This time, it wasn’t comfortable. It was sharp, tense, full of possibilities.

“It wouldn’t be smart,” you replied in the end. “You know what a mistake like that could cost us.”

Lando lowered his gaze. Then he nodded.

“Fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. As always, you’re right.”

But before getting into the car, he stopped and looked at you again.

“What if it wasn’t a mistake?”

And he left.

And you... were left frozen.

The Italian Grand Prix came in the midst of a wave of chaos. The teams were scrambling to adjust the cars after a disastrous practice session, and the atmosphere in the paddock was electric. The glances passed quickly, the mechanics were working frantically, and Lando… Lando was in his world, focused on the only thing that mattered to him: making the car perfect.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. About what he hadn’t said. That question, thrown without intention, but with weight.

“What if it wasn’t a mistake?”

The answer still floated between the two of you. You didn’t name it. You didn’t mention it. But it was there.

In the briefing, Lando kept joking with his engineer, as if nothing had changed. But every time his eyes met yours, there was something else. Something you didn’t know how to handle. As if the air was charged with electricity, and both of you were trying not to touch.

After qualifying, there was no denying what was between you anymore. It had been his first podium of the season. The car had been perfectly tuned thanks to your work, and the post-race interviews were a mix of euphoria and exhaustion.

When it was all over, you found him in the hospitality, drinking water, tired but satisfied.

“Are you going to sleep, or keep joking about strategy on social media?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He looked at you with a tired smile. The same smile he only showed when he was genuinely relaxed, without the façade of a driver.

“Probably both.” He approached slowly, as if he couldn’t help it. “What about you? Are you going to keep doing last-minute corrections or take some time to rest?”

You turned away, not knowing how to respond. The closeness between you two wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was friction, a tension that had become so natural that neither of you knew how to let go of it.

“The last thing I need is rest,” you said without looking at him. “I have to review all the race data.”

“Why do you keep taking on more work than necessary?” he asked softly, stepping a little closer. “If someone sees you, they’ll think it’s you who’s racing.”

You didn’t know if it was a joke or a truth disguised as humor, but the tone in which he said it made you fall silent. Lando, in his entirety, was seeing beyond the surface.

At that moment, one of the mechanics passed by the hallway, calling his attention. He turned, gave you one last look, and said:

“I’ll see you later, okay? I need to go over a few things with the team.”

When he left, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh. It was hard to find the balance between the professional and what you were feeling. Every interaction, every word, felt loaded with more than what was at stake.

The night came with more tension than you expected. Although the lights in the paddock were already turning off, you were still working on your laptop, adjusting the last details for sponsor presentations. There was a lot of work to do.

Suddenly, you heard a soft knock on the door.

It was him. Lando.

“Can I steal a minute?” he asked, half leaning against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

You looked at him. It wasn’t that you were expecting him. But at the same time, you were. You knew he couldn’t stay away from something he didn’t know how to handle for long.

“Sure,” you replied, without taking your eyes off the screen. You didn’t want him to think you were waiting for him.

He walked slowly and leaned on the table in front of you. He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched the rhythm of your fingers on the keyboard.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asked casually, but there was something in his voice. Something that made you look at him.

“Everything’s fine,” you answered, keeping your voice neutral.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, this time with more intensity. The look he gave you was deeper, more unsettling. “I know when something’s wrong. And I’m not stupid, I know what happened in Italy. What you told me.”

You fell silent, staring at the screen but seeing nothing. You couldn’t look into his eyes now, because if you did, you knew that what both of you had been avoiding would come to light.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, finally. Your voice sounded firmer than you felt.

He leaned forward, eyes locked on you. That same intensity as before.

“I can’t ignore it. I don’t want to ignore it.”

You finally looked at him, and there he was, closer than ever. No more words were needed. None were necessary.

The answer, it seemed, was in the gestures. In the accidental brushing of his hand on the table. In the closeness that neither of you knew how to avoid anymore.

The door clicked softly as Lando left the room.

But in that brief moment, you knew things had changed. They had stopped being what they were. The line you had been maintaining was gone. You didn’t know what to do with this new reality. But you couldn’t deny it either.

[rottingghosty]

Little Talks | DC X DP

part second part to the ghostling au !! this is just something to give you guys food while i write the fic

also usual errors will be made im only one person blah blah. hope you enjoy, as usual this is scheduled to post at 7am

☁️☁️☁️☁️

Danny lazily blinked at the person in front of him, his brain slowly rebooting itself as he released a small yawn. The person was green. A green person. Huh. Alien? He was exhausted, he spent so long aiding new systems and cradling stars that died and spread their dust around so they would be reborn again. He wanted to sleep but this person was in front of him and it’d be rude to ignore him. Pandora taught him better than that.

“Mrrp?” Danny felt his ears twitch, he wanted to feel mortified at the fact he made a sound like a cat in his own head but he really can’t be blamed because the moon he was around was really comfortable and he had no shame. He lazily tilted his head as the person’s shoulders seemed to loosen? A shake in his body. Weird.

Oh. He’s trying not to laugh at Danny’s response. Can Clockwork rewind so that didn’t happen. Of course CW ignored him like usual when it came to embarrassments like these.

“I do not mean any harm friend.”

The voice in his head echoed and it made Danny shiver in response, it was odd sharing a head space with someone else. He didn’t retaliate or cause any harm. His core could feel that this person was friendly, curious and respectful. He gives a head tilt in response.

Friend. Safe. Okay.

Danny gave another yawn, feeling his jaw open a tad wider than it should in normal human circumstances but who could care less when he has a Martian— an actual martian in front of him even if he’s too sleepy to actively be excited! He’s tired okay, it’s not everyday he gets to indulge on his obsession heavily on an everyday basis. He’d been so deprived that he’d gotten sick and it’s what made the others decide to give him the boot so he could enjoy his time before he got the crown.

“What is your name, little one?” Martian Manhunter softly asked in Danny’s head after the younger one winced from the volume earlier after he began to wake up.

“Danny.”

“Why are you out here?”

“Old man said I needed my enrichment.”

“One of my allies called you a baby ghost of the Infinite Realms, is this true?”

Danny released another cat like sound, this one more curious than the other when he had just barely woke up. Someone knew what he was? How curious, it wasn’t often Danny stumbled in dimensions that knew he was from the Infinite Realms… much less the fact that he’s even a ghostling.

“Mhm, ghostling is the proper term. We usually calculate age by how long we’ve been dead. In ghost terms I’m like three.”

Martian Manhunter seemed to pause, as if listening to something. Danny gave another yawn before he finally decided to change into a more normal size instead of the large form he had used to travel through the void easier. His form shifted in a bright light before he floated over to Martian Manhunter.

He quickly realized he was a lot smaller than he’d been and he supposes this is what CW meant when changing forms, he’d most likely reflect the age he’s in ghost terms. He doesn’t think he’d handle if Martian Manhunter treated him like a kid.

“When you said enrichment…?”

“Oh! Clocky said to play nice with my cousin? I think her name is Wonder Woman? Um he’s ah known as Chronos?”

[wynnerwynner]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇

avengers au!joaquin torres x afab!toxikensis!reader

synopsis: y/n and joaquin have to keep their relationship hidden due to the avenger’s unspoken rule. meanwhile, joaquin shows y/n she is more than her trauma.

request: yes

warnings: hints at murder, trust issues, happy ending

wc: 3.2k

a/n: i never said i was good at endings y'all 😫. also if anyone has any tips for tmj pain let me know bc im bouta go ape shit

There was no written rule for “no sexual relations among teammates”, however, it was heavily implied. After Natasha and Bruce’s relationship crashed and burned, rumours of teammates possibly hooking up or even liking each other seemed to set everyone on edge. It was too much of a risk, one person favouring another’s safety during missions or getting distracted. The only exception was for Vision and Wanda, who the team did not exactly count as committing a crime because Vision lacked human error.

As someone who was closed off, Y/N had never thought much of the rule. She’d conditioned herself to keep a distance from people, even after learning to tame her poison abilities. She was so used to burning someone’s skin by simply touching them or poison someone by sharing a drink that the idea of being able to return to some of her previous indulgences was discomforting. However, with Joaquin’s arrival, that rule suddenly flashed before her eyes like an obnoxious billboard.

Joaquin was speechless when he first met Y/N. He’d seen her in the media but in person, she took his breath away. When he’d tried to shake her hand, she stared at it for a moment before returning the formality. As their skin touched, she looked him in the eye and offered him a small smile. She was quiet, but he could almost see the gears turning as though she had come up with a particularly smart response in her head. He could tell that despite the cold exterior, she was all fire within.

The first time Joaquin went to the gym to train with his new teammates, Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked Sam.

“She doesn’t like to train with us,” he answered.

“She has her own space down the hall,” Natasha pointed over her shoulder. “Something to do with not wanting to hurt anyone.”

The room Y/N trained in was similar in size to a shipping container. The longest walls were made of glass but the shorter were of cement. He watched her from the other side of the glass, fighting off Tony’s training drones and dummies. As she raised her hands, thick neon-green liquid rose to her fingertips and sprayed out at the training dummy. She took down three others by blowing a cloud of yellow, billowing gas at them. Joaquin clapped, causing her to look around with furrowed brows. She went over to a high-tech panel a few feet from him and when she tapped a few buttons, her eyes widened as they caught his.

He raised a friendly hand with an abashed smile, “Sorry.”

Y/N only assessed him, then turned back to her work.

Joaquin proceeded took the long route to the gym every morning. His new path allowed him to walk past her training room and the more he passed by, the more sure he was sure she’d stopped using the two-way glass feature. One time, he caught her as she was exiting.

“You’re late,” she commented.

It was so rare to hear her speak that he savoured every syllable.

She was right, though. He was very late to training that morning.

“Yeah, I was on the phone with my mom,” he sighed. “I love her but sometimes I feel like she’ll never let me go.”

Y/N cracked an almost imperceptible smile and nodded.

“How come you practice alone?” he asked.

Her eyes roved over him, detailing his appearance for the morning. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”

“Don’t believe everything you see online.”

Y/N’s snort brought a smile to his face. It was like an achievement, making her laugh. To others it was nothing, but to him it felt like everything.

“It’s safer this way,” she glanced back at the darkened room.

“But you’ve learned to control your powers, right?”

Her head cocked and she peered at the ground. “I’ve been meaning to tell you…” She hesitated, “Thank you for shaking my hand.”

Joaquin’s brows furrowed. What an odd thing to thank him for.

“It’s only the polite thing,” he replied.

Y/N looked from one of his eyes to the other. He couldn’t tell if she was studying him or judging him. He felt like he was missing something. Without another word, she walked away.

Another morning, Joaquin knocked on the glass and waved her over. She stuck her head out the crystal door, waiting for him to speak.

“Hi,” he smiled with a sigh. “Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to get some food sometime? Not—not as a date, just… just to get to know my teammate. I think you’re really cool and—”

“I don’t eat out,” she interjected his rambling.

“Why not?”

Her lips flattened into a line and she pushed her sweaty baby hairs from her forehead. “It’s not safe. I’m like a virus. I could kill someone by them touching my fork.”

“You touched me and I’m still here. See?” He held up the hand she shook.

Y/N sighed and pulled the door closed. Joaquin jammed his foot between it before it could fully close and grabbed the door.

“Let me cook for you,” he offered.

“That’s—”

“I can buy disposable dishes or you can wash them yourself,” he spoke quickly. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

The look in his eyes was desperate and she almost felt bad saying no. She looked him over again, then nodded.

That had started it all. Y/N had spoke more than she had in a long time. As time went on, he would catch her in the halls and make conversation. He even managed to make her fully smile.

One late night, Joaquin found her sitting on the edge of the koi pond in the lobby, a ceramic bowl in one hand. He hadn’t seen her in anything other than workout clothing or their suits. A smile graced her lips as she dropped food into the pond. He’d never seen her so relaxed.

“Doesn’t Stark have someone doing that for him?”

Her head whipped to meet his gaze.

Joaquin cringed, “Sorry.”

Y/N returned to her fish, dropping a small piece of orange into the pond. The fish leapt at the food, splashing water on her sweats, but she didn’t seem to mind. “He does,” she replied to his inquiry. “When she’s on vacation I do it for her.”

“At one in the morning?”

She eyed him, “You’re one to talk.”

Joaquin chuckled at her quip. “Do you mind?”

At a shake of her head, he sat himself beside her. He watched her take another piece of orange and hold it out to him. Her fingers brushed his skin as she set the wet fruit in his palm and he wanted to say he was proud of her but was afraid it might scare her off.

“Did you know,” she began, grabbing some orange, “koi can recognize people?”

Joaquin watched her put her hand in the water and four fish fought for the food in her hand. He couldn’t look away from her satisfied smile. It made him feel giddy, like a school boy with a crush again. She made him feel things he hadn’t in a long time.

“Go on.”

Joaquin did a double take as he realized from her words that he had been staring. Instead of her usual blank expression she offered him, a small smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Do I just… drop it in?” he asked, angling his hand over the water.

Y/N nodded encouragingly.

Joaquin let go of the fruit and a laugh left his lips as they dove for it. This time, it was Y/N’s turn to be caught staring. They both couldn’t seem to look away. Caught up in the moment, Joaquin reached for her free hand. His breathing picked up as she didn’t pull away from his touch. Her skin was warm, just as he’d imagined. He ran his thumb gently over her knuckles. A smile twitched across her lips and when it fully appeared, his world felt a little brighter.

“You’re beautiful,” he found himself saying.

Y/N looked to the wall of windows, out to the hanger across the property. The light of the moon and the glow of the lamplights illuminated her face. She came back to him, peering at their hands. Y/N raised her hand and he thought for a moment she was going to push him away, but she didn’t. Joaquin could only watch as she raised his palm to her cheek. His fingers were covered in the juice from the orange but she didn’t seem to care. As he ran his thumb under her eye, she closed her eyes.

“When I first came here,” she began, “no one shook my hand. They weren’t trying to be rude, I know that, but they knew what I was. They were afraid, even if they didn’t want to admit it.”

Joaquin almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he also wasn’t surprised. She’d joined the Avengers years before him and if he guessed correctly, the articles that came out about her accidentally killing people because of her powers were still fresh on people’s minds. The only difference between Joaquin and the rest of the team was that by the time he joined, people with superpowers were normalized and rarely went about the world terrorizing others on purpose. Joaquin knew there was no way Steve Rogers would have agreed to have her on the team if she was a danger.

After that night at the koi pond, things began as innocent brushes, small conversations while their teammates were around, shooting a glance to each other across tables.

Y/N had kissed him first. He wanted to give her the control—only advance things when she was comfortable. The more she’d pull him into empty hallways and kissed him before running off again, the more comfortable he was with waiting for her. Joaquin was addicted to her and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

After a while, he suggested she try using the same gym as them. The day she’d walked in, almost all eyes were on her. Joaquin had caught her rigid shoulders and took advantage of Sam’s distraction, slamming him to the mat with a loud smack. The entire room looked to Joaquin standing over Sam. Bucky’s laugh echoed from his spot on the bench.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Sam exclaimed.

“Never let your guard down, Sam,” Natasha smirked. “Good one Joaquin.”

“No, man, get away from me,” Captain America smacked Joaquin’s offered hand.

He laughed, teasing him, “Don’t be such a sore loser, Cap.”

“Listen, I’ll get you back,” he pointed as he went for his water bottle.

Joaquin took the momentary breather to find Y/N again. She was wrapping her hands, preparing to use the punching bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at him and nodded her thanks.

Joaquin made sure to distract them any time she entered the gym and eventually, he didn’t have to anymore. The team could see she was getting more comfortable and yet no one seemed to question her sudden change in attitude. Natasha began to spar with Y/N, helping perfect her moves and teach her new ones. Joaquin was proud as he watched her day after day grow closer with their team. He was happy seeing her be herself, understanding that she wasn’t defined by her past.

After months of hiding their relationship, Joaquin strode into the kitchen late at night. Natasha was leaning back against the counter, spooning yoghurt into her mouth.

“You looking forward to tomorrow?” he asked.

Tony was hosting his annual Stark Expo and the Avengers attendance was mandatory.

“Not really,” she mumbled. “I’ll probably show up an hour before it ends. Then Tony can’t say I didn’t show.”

Joaquin chuckled as he grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl. “That’s smart.”

Natasha watched as he got out a cutting board, knife, and bowl.

“You gonna bring anyone?” she asked.

“Why? Wanna be my date?”

Natasha cringed, but a laugh escaped her. “You’re a little too young for my taste, kid. Besides, I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

“Because of the no-dating-teammates rule?” he cut the orange into small pieces.

Natasha was quiet as she scraped the last of the yoghurt from the cup. Joaquin glanced up to find a small smile on her lips.

“You going to feed the fish?” she asked.

“Uh…” he looked down at the sticky mess on the counter, “yeah.”

“Sometimes thing echo around here, you know?” Natasha smirked. “Walls are made of glass. Lots of open space in the lobby.”

Joaquin continued to cut up the orange. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.”

“Won’t tell anyone what?” he chuckled, feigning confusion.

Natasha threw out her yoghurt cup and put the spoon in the dishwasher.

“You’re a good liar, Captain,” she said as she made her way back to the hall. “It takes one to know one.”

Natasha disappeared toward the bedrooms with a wink, leaving him alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

The next night, Joaquin was dressed in his best suit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Y/N in her outfit. She was the definition of beautiful. There were a few times he was sure his teammates had caught him admiring her. 

Thor suddenly clapped a tipsy hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. The Falcon bent slightly at the knees from the weight of his grip.

“You’re a good man, Captain Falcon,” the god slurred a little. “You deserve a good woman. Y/N seems good, too.”

Joaquin had laughed awkwardly, trying his best to come up with a way out of the situation. “Thanks, man.”

“You should ask her out,” Thor encouraged.

“I don’t know…”

“What? Are you scared? Never be afraid, little man,” he squeezed a little harder with a good shake and Joaquin had to fight back a groan from the throbbing of his shoulder blade. “You need not be afraid of women. Or men. Whichever you prefer. You know, my brother is—”

“I don’t think that’d be fair to everyone,” Joaquin quickly replied. “I wouldn’t want to make things awkward.”

“You’re a good man,” Thor tapped him a little too hard on the cheek. “I’m sure no one would mind.”

Joaquin searched for Y/N in the sea of people as Thor walked away. He didn’t care if people noticed him staring. Maybe Thor was right. If they kept it professional around their teammates as they already had, there would be no harm. Besides, if Vision and Wanda could move out and build a family together, why couldn’t he and Y/N have a life of their own, too?

 That night, when their formal clothes were on the floor and Y/N lay against his chest, Joaquin spoke into the dark, “I think we should tell them.”

Y/N lifted her head, looking at him through the golden lamp light, “What?”

“Natasha knows,” he admitted. “And Thor—”

“Don’t tell me he does, too,” she sat up. “He can’t keep a secret, Joaquin. If he knows, everyone does.”

“Y/N,” he cradled her face in his hands. “He doesn’t know.”

She sighed, but her lips remained in a flat line.

“Thor suggested I ask you out. I told him it wouldn’t be fair to the team but he said he didn’t think they’d mind.”

“And you agree.”

Joaquin brushed his thumb under her eye, “Y/N, I love you and I want everyone to know. We’ve already done great at hiding it so it shouldn’t be difficult to continue keeping it professional once it’s out there.”

“When we put it out there, they will make assumptions,” she argued. “They will disregard how everything’s been in the past and they’ll think we can’t handle working together.”

He knew her words were coming from a place of anxiety and he didn’t wish to push her, only to reassure. She was good at listening and considering opinions, even if she didn’t agree at the time.

“These people aren’t just our teammates,” he said carefully. “They’re our family. Natasha and Bruce broke up, but they’re still cordial. They don’t make it uncomfortable for us because they are professionals and we are all there for each other. Most of these people don’t have anyone outside the compound they can call family.”

Joaquin never brought it up again after that night. He would let her think about it for as long as she wanted.

After a couple of days, Y/N decided she didn’t want to be cold anymore. She realized that she’d been using her trust issues as an excuse and a deluded explanation for why she didn’t deserve happiness. Joaquin and Thor were right, they wouldn’t care because they trusted each other.

She’d kept herself locked away for too long. She’d been scared of how people would perceive her for too long. Joaquin had proved to her that she was worthy of love; that she was perfect the way she was. It wasn’t fair to him to keep them hiding any longer, but it especially wasn’t fair to herself. She deserved to be something more than the water that had devoured her all those years ago. It may have ate at her blood and altered her brain, but her heart was still hers.

She deserved love.

The team sat in the common area eating take out together. Joaquin stood at the counter with Sam and Bucky when he caught sight of Y/N entering from the hallway. She stopped in the archway and looked at him before eyeing the rest of their teammates. The room went quiet as they took notice of her clear need to say something.

“Joaquin and I are dating.”

The room erupted in voices. Joaquin flinched at the sudden noise, almost choking on a piece of broccoli. Sam looked to him with wide, excited eyes.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed. “I told you!” he looked to Bucky, who smiled into his food with a shake of his head.

“I would like everyone to know this was my doing,” Thor raised a hand. “I set this up.”

“No, you did not,” Pietro laughed.

“I did!” the god insisted. “I suggested he ask her out.”

“How long have you been dating?” Wanda asked the couple over her shoulder.

Joaquin looked to Y/N, who stared at him like a deer in headlights. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.

“Almost a year,” Joaquin said.

“Yo, what the hell, man?” Sam back-handed him in the chest.

From the couch, Rhodey whistled.

“I thought we were close,” Sam continued teasingly.

“I can’t believe you two have been doing it under my roof for almost a year and I didn’t know,” Tony quipped, face serious.

“God, Tony,” Natasha chastised.

“Tony, really?” Rhodey reached over to Peter, clamping his hands over his ears. “There are children present.”

“I’m twenty-five!” Peter exclaimed, pushing his hands away.

Joaquin’s smile at Y/N from across the room seemed to shake her from her thoughts. She broke the distance and he slid an arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the excitement of the room.

“I only have one rule,” Tony said, catching everyone’s attention. “No kids under my roof. I don’t need any of those around here, especially ones shooting poison darts at me while I try to enjoy my breakfast.”

Joaquin laughed and gazed down at Y/N who hid against his chest. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she squeezed him reassuringly.

[godricgryffinsnore]

The Quiet Between Heartbeats ♡ : A Cedric Diggory Fan Fiction.

pairing : Cedric Diggory x female!reader

summary : A slow-burn friends-to-lovers romance full of quiet tension, aching glances, and soft, stolen touches. As two hearts grow closer through banter, lingering pinky brushes, and whispered moments in forgotten corners of the castle, love blooms where neither expected it—sweet, fiery, and utterly unforgettable. This is a story of yearning, laughter, kisses like fireworks, and the kind of love that wraps around you like a favorite sweater.

warnings : Heavy romantic tension, Suggestive content (intense kissing, neck kisses, hickeys), Flirty teasing and banter, Mentions of jealousy and possessiveness, Slightly mature themes (no explicit smut), Emotional intimacy and vulnerability. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 3.2k

main master list <3

banners : @uzmacchiato and @roseschoices

It began with the smallest things.

A lingering glance across the Great Hall. A pinky brushing hers on the edge of a table. The way her laugh caught in his chest like a spell he never wanted lifted.

Cedric Diggory had fallen—quietly, hopelessly, and far too early.

They were friends. Good friends. The kind that traded books and shared inside jokes in crowded corridors. The kind who sat side by side in the library, legs brushing underneath the table, pretending it wasn’t anything. He told himself it was enough.

But it wasn’t.

She was a blur of parchment ink and candlelight, with sharp wit and a laugh that unraveled him like a charm undone. She never noticed the way his hands trembled when he passed her notes, or how he lingered every time she touched his arm in passing. She didn’t see the way his eyes followed her like poetry across a page. And he? He noticed everything.

Especially how she didn’t notice him the way he wanted her to.

── .✦

“Honestly,” Oliver said, nudging Cedric as they walked toward the Quidditch pitch, “I don’t think you’ve ever looked at a broom the way you look at her.”

Cedric rolled his eyes, cheeks coloring faintly. “Shut it, Wood.”

“She touched your shoulder this morning and you turned pinker than a Fanged Geranium,” his friend added with a smirk. “Just ask her out already.”

He didn’t respond. How could he explain the agony of wanting something so deeply, yet fearing the ruin of what already existed?

So he did what he always did. He watched her from a distance, from the corner of crowded hallways, through the haze of early morning light in the library, in the stolen moments when no one else noticed the way her fingers tapped to an invisible rhythm while she read.

── .✦

For her part, the reader—blissfully, maddeningly oblivious—had no clue.

Sure, Cedric was handsome. Okay, very handsome. But he was also sweet, soft-spoken, golden to the bone. The kind of boy who made you feel like sunlight lived in your veins. He was her friend. A good one. Always there with a smile, always listening, always warm.

She didn’t realize that the softness in his voice when he said her name was anything more than friendly. Or that the reason he always seemed to sit just close enough to graze her fingers was because he needed to feel her.

She thought she imagined the stares. The way his gaze lingered too long. The hitch in his breath when their hands brushed as they passed a quill. She didn’t realize his hands trembled not from nerves, but from need.

── .✦

“Cedric’s going to lose his mind,” murmured Angelina one evening as they all sat in the common room. “Look at him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her for ten minutes.”

“I swear, they’re doing this on purpose,” Fred added. “Or they’re that daft.”

George leaned over, muttering loudly, “You owe me five galleons if he doesn’t confess before the Yule Ball.”

Cedric caught the end of that and sent them all a warning glare.

But it was true—he was unraveling.

He wanted to hold her hand. Not by accident. Not brushing pinkies under a table. He wanted to take her hand and never let go.

He wanted to kiss her. Not in a dream. Not in the quiet corners of his imagination where she whispered his name like a secret. But for real. For once.

── .✦

It all came undone one night under the stars.

She found him leaning against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, his tie undone, hair windswept. His back was to her, but when he turned—Merlin help her—she saw something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft.

“Hey.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and expectant. She leaned on the railing beside him, looking up at the stars.

“They’re beautiful,” she said.

“So are you,” he said without thinking.

She blinked. “What?”

His eyes met hers. “I said… you are.”

Her breath caught. “Cedric…”

“I know you don’t see it,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I know you think we’re just friends. But I’ve been falling for you since the moment we met. And it’s killing me not to tell you.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You… you what?”

“I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about books. The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking. I love that you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. That you challenge me. That you don’t back down.”

He paused, his voice almost breaking. “And I love you. Gods, I love you.”

The world stilled.

She stood frozen, heart hammering, every heartbeat screaming you fool, you didn’t see it. You didn’t see him loving you all this time.

“Cedric,” she breathed. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he said with a small laugh, brushing his fingers against hers, hesitant, like he was afraid she’d pull away. “I was just hoping someday you would.”

She looked down, saw their pinkies barely touching. And this time—this time—she hooked hers around his.

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime.

“I think I’ve been falling too,” she whispered. “I was just too blind to realize what this was.”

And then—then he kissed her.

It was like fireworks behind her eyelids, soft and slow and filled with everything unsaid. His hands cradled her face like she was made of stardust, and when he pulled away, they were both breathless.

“Say it again,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his.

“I love you.”

And under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, fingers intertwined like a promise sealed, she finally said it back.

And meant it.

── .✦

Being with Cedric was like falling asleep in your favorite chapter and waking up inside a fairytale.

Warm hands. Soft glances. The kind of love that bloomed quietly, but settled in deep. The kind that was tucked into mundane things—the way he always remembered how you took your tea, the way his hand found yours beneath the table, pinkies brushing before fingers fully entwined.

You were his. He was yours. And everyone knew it.

That didn’t mean Cedric was above getting a little… territorial.

── .✦

It started with a harmless interaction—at least, to you.

You were walking across the courtyard after Herbology when Michael Corner approached you, all bright smiles and way-too-familiar charm. He was going on about something—tutoring, or maybe a Hogsmeade trip, you hadn’t really been listening—when you felt it.

The unmistakable presence of Cedric Diggory, warm and thundercloud-silent beside you.

“Corner,” Cedric said, his voice pleasant. Too pleasant.

Michael stiffened. “Oh, hey Cedric. Didn’t see you there.”

“I bet,” Cedric said smoothly, slipping an arm around your waist like it was second nature. (It was.)

You blinked up at him, amused. “Hi, love.”

His gaze didn’t leave Michael’s. “Hey, sweetheart.”

The poor boy stammered something about seeing you later and practically sprinted away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Cedric, raising a brow. “Was that necessary?”

“He was flirting with you,” Cedric said, clearly unconcerned about how obvious his jealousy was.

You laughed, heart fluttering at the hint of pink in his ears. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, kissing your forehead. “But you’re mine.”

── .✦

Later that night, in the comfort of the Hufflepuff common room, you found yourselves curled up on one of the couches, a blanket draped over your legs, the fire crackling softly beside you. Cedric had an arm around your shoulders, and you were tracing shapes on his chest absentmindedly.

“Still mad at Michael Corner?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I’m not mad,” Cedric mumbled, though he was still pouting faintly. “Just… observant.”

You chuckled. “Well, your powers of observation are unparalleled.”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, eyes crinkling with laughter.

You smiled and shifted, brushing your lips along the curve of his neck—soft and deliberate.

The effect was immediate.

Cedric froze, his entire body going tense, and a soft breath hitched in his throat.

You paused, eyes curious. “Cedric?”

“N-Neck,” he stammered, cheeks flushing pink. “Sensitive.”

You blinked. Then slowly, very slowly, smiled.

“Well now that’s useful information.”

“I’m regretting everything,” he muttered, but his hand tightened on your thigh and he was definitely not pushing you away.

You kissed his neck again, just below his ear this time, and he practically melted into the cushions.

“Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, voice low and breathless.

You hummed, pressing one last kiss to his throat before settling against him. “At least you’ll die loved.”

He chuckled, lips brushing your temple. “That I will.”

── .✦

Sometimes, your days were filled with classes and jokes and teasing hands. Other days, they were quiet. Stolen kisses behind bookshelves, love notes tucked into your textbooks in Cedric’s neat handwriting. “For luck,” he’d say with a wink, handing you a daisy before every test.

And every now and then, he’d pull you aside, press you against the nearest wall, and kiss you like the world was ending. Desperate. Tender. Like you were everything he’d ever wanted.

Because you were.

And he? He was everything you hadn’t even known to wish for.

── .✦

One evening, after one of those wall-kiss moments that left you breathless and flushed, you looked up at him with soft eyes and whispered, “Still jealous?”

“Every bloody day,” he whispered against your lips. “Because I know exactly how lucky I am.”

You kissed him again—neck included.

And somewhere between the tangled fingers, the laughter, and the stolen kisses, you both realized something—

This was it.

The love worth waiting for.

── .✦

It started as a game.

A game where your fingers ghosted up Cedric’s arm in the library, where your lips brushed his jaw just to see the way his breath hitched. A game where you leaned in a little too close when he was trying to focus, your voice soft and honey-sweet against the shell of his ear:

“Still mad about Michael Corner?”

The poor boy choked on air.

He had been trying to finish his Potions essay, quill poised with all the noble concentration of a scholar. But then—then—you had curled into his side and began your mission: Operation Drive Cedric Diggory Absolutely Mad.

It was harmless. Almost.

Until your lips found that spot on his neck again.

That tiny space just below his ear, where his breath would catch and his shoulders would tense and that pink flush would rise like ink in water.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” he mumbled, eyes heavy-lidded, voice lower than usual. Half accusation. Half moan.

You only smiled. “Doing what, love?”

“That.”

You blinked up at him innocently. “Kissing my boyfriend?”

He gave you a look, but it quickly shattered the moment you trailed kisses down the side of his throat, lingering longer this time. You sucked softly, gently—just long enough to leave the ghost of a bruise, and he whimpered. His head tilted back, jaw tight, hands clenched in the fabric of your robes like you were the only tether to the earth.

You pulled away slowly, admiring your handiwork. A small, perfect mark blooming like firelight on his pale skin.

“Darling…” he warned, voice wrecked, “you know I’ve got class after this—”

“Oh, I know,” you purred, lips brushing his collarbone. “You’ll just have to wear your scarf, won’t you?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You are so evil.”

You tilted your head, all mock innocence. “And you love it.”

He sighed dramatically, pulling you into his lap with both arms wrapped firmly around your waist. “Unfortunately.”

You grinned and nosed at his neck again.

“You do realize,” he murmured, voice laced with fondness and a hint of vengeance, “that this means war.”

You gave him one final, featherlight kiss just below his jaw. “Bring it on, Diggory.”

── .✦

Later that day in Charms class, everyone noticed the scarf.

Cedric, flushed pink from ear to ear, wore it indoors with grim determination. His friends didn’t even try to hold back their laughter.

“Bit nippy in here, isn’t it, Diggory?” Lee Jordan teased.

“Yeah,” added George, winking, “You catch a chill from all that… snogging?”

Cedric shot a helpless look at you across the room—and found you smirking like the devil in an angel’s uniform.

He was doomed. Doomed and in love.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

── .✦

It was subtle at first.

Too subtle.

You should’ve known Cedric Diggory wouldn’t let your little neck hickey escapade go unanswered. He was the golden boy of Hufflepuff—sweet on the outside, but competitive and cunning when he wanted to be. And right now?

He wanted you flustered.

Badly.

It began one lazy afternoon in the courtyard. You were leaning against an ancient pillar, sun warming your back as you flipped through your Transfiguration notes. Cedric walked over with that slow, confident stride—hands tucked in his pockets, hair tousled by the wind, and the faintest glimmer of mischief in those warm amber eyes.

“Hi, love,” he greeted, voice soft and casual.

You smiled without looking up. “You’ve forgiven me for the scarf incident, I hope?”

“Oh, definitely,” he said, sitting beside you. “Water under the bridge.”

You arched a brow. “Really?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed innocently. “I’ve just decided I like playing the long game.”

You blinked, opening your mouth to ask what he meant—only to feel his fingers skim just above your knee, slow and deliberate, ghosting up the bare skin beneath your uniform skirt.

You inhaled sharply.

“Cedric.”

“Yes, darling?”

“You’re playing with fire.”

He leaned in, voice low against your ear. “Then burn me.”

And suddenly, it was you who couldn’t focus. He didn’t stop there, of course. Over the next week, Cedric launched a full-blown charm offensive, designed specifically to destroy your composure.

Trailing fingers down your spine when no one was watching. Whispering teasing little things into your ear during class. Tugging you onto his lap and pretending to be all innocent when your breath caught at the way he nuzzled your neck—your spot.

“I’m just cold,” he’d say with a wicked smile. “You wouldn’t let your boyfriend freeze, would you?”

He even whispered poetry into your ear once in the library. Poetry.

With his lips brushing your jaw.

You were doomed.

── .✦

But one evening, in the quiet of the Hufflepuff common room, you decided to strike back.

You were curled up beside him on the couch again, his head resting lazily against yours. Everyone else was asleep, and moonlight streamed through the tall windows in soft, silver streaks.

Your hand slid up his chest, featherlight, and then—slowly—you pressed a single, deliberate kiss to his neck.

Cedric froze.

You smiled. “Still sensitive?”

He gave a shaky little breath. “Maybe.”

You pressed another, slower kiss just beneath his jaw.

Then, grazed your teeth against the skin. Gently. Teasing.

He let out the softest, most delicious sound—half gasp, half groan—and before you could smirk, he was on you.

Not in a rough way. No. Cedric Diggory kissed like he meant it.

Like he’d waited a thousand lifetimes just to kiss you again.

He pulled you into his lap, hands splayed against your back, and kissed you until the world blurred around the edges. Until time forgot how to tick.

And in that in-between—the hush of hearts speaking louder than words—he pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Do you have any idea how mad I am for you?”

You touched his cheek, breathless and smiling, eyes shining. “Maybe. But I’d love to hear it again.”

He grinned, then leaned down to your ear.

“I am so incredibly, hopelessly, stupidly in love with you.”

And then he kissed your neck, right where he knew it would make you shiver.

Your breath hitched.

“Told you,” he murmured smugly, lips brushing your skin, “long game.”

── .✦

It was only fair you got the final revenge.

After all, Cedric Diggory had been a menace lately. A beautiful, golden, completely infuriating menace.

From the way he murmured poetry into your ear like a secret spell, to the way he brushed his thumb over your lips whenever you looked distracted. He made you feel like you were the center of the entire universe, like gravity bent to your smile.

So, of course, he deserved to be utterly ruined.

── .✦

You waited until a particularly quiet evening, when most of the castle was either at dinner or tucked into study sessions. You grabbed Cedric’s hand and whispered, “Come with me,” and because he was hopelessly in love with you, he didn’t even hesitate.

You led him to an empty classroom, tucked behind the charms corridor—dim, forgotten, echoing with a gentle hum of candlelight.

He blinked. “What are we doing here?”

You only smiled and tugged him in by the collar.

Then kissed him. Hard.

Your hands slid into his hair, fingers tugging softly, guiding him into the kind of kiss that stole breath and burned slow. Cedric gasped against your lips, stumbling back until he hit the old professor’s desk, hands bracing himself behind him as you kissed him like you owned him.

And maybe you did.

“Love,” he breathed, “what—”

You leaned in, brushing your lips along the line of his jaw. “You wanted a game. I’m playing to win.”

He groaned, head tilting instinctively when you began kissing his neck. Soft. Slow. Deliberate. You sucked gently at the skin just below his ear, just where he always lost it—and sure enough, his knees nearly buckled.

“Merlin,” he gasped, “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” you whispered against his throat. “Because you started this.”

Your kisses grew slower, messier. He slid his hands under your shirt, fingers ghosting over your spine like he needed to touch as much of you as possible. But when you nipped at that sensitive spot behind his ear, he whimpered.

Actual. Whimper.

And you couldn’t help but laugh softly against his neck as he buried his face into your shoulder and said:

“I’m never going to survive you, am I?”

You smiled, breathless. “Not a chance.”

── .✦

The next morning, Cedric didn’t meet your eyes at breakfast.

Face red. Ears pink. Voice cracked when he tried to say “pumpkin juice.”

And when his friend—Oliver, bless him—raised a brow at the bright red hickey blooming on Cedric’s neck?

Cedric choked on his toast and nearly fell off the bench.

You winked at him across the table.

He buried his face in his hands. “I hate you,” he mumbled.

You kicked him under the table. “No you don’t.”

And he peeked at you through his fingers, lips twitching.

“…No,” he said softly. “I don’t.”

── .✦

Later that day, you found Cedric waiting outside your class, arms crossed, smile warm and dangerously soft.

“You,” he said as you approached, “are evil.”

You kissed his cheek. “Still love me?”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing his forehead to yours.

“With every bone in my body. With every beat in my chest. With every piece of me you’ve ever touched.”

“I’m yours.”

You paused, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

Then whispered, “Forever?”

His hands found yours, pinkies linking first—always—and then fingers fully entwining.

“Forever.”

── .✦

And if he pressed you against a stone wall somewhere quiet later, kissing you like the sun rose only for you, well—

That was between you, Cedric, and the blooming heat in your chest that said this was real.

This was everything.

This was love.