#Just taking things slow and comfy for the most part :)

[breakmeoff]

Jeju Island

featuring: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x fem!reader warnings: swearing, smut: unprotected p in v, slapping, exhibitionism, cockwarming, slight dumbification...?, subspace. MDNI, 18+ only* word count: 1.0k synopsis: you and seunghyun spend a quiet weekend away at a luxury spa resort on jeju, and your second day there you decide to enjoy lounging at the pool. from the unknowing viewer, you just look like you're cuddling and can't get enough of each other. in reality, most people would be scandalized at what was really happening beneath the rippling water. note: this is part of the Larie's Libations 200 Followers Celebration. this was an anonymous request i received but somehow i lost the ask in my inbox and can't reply to it directly - i'm sorry about that! however, anon's selection is listed below. thank you for reading! LARIE'S LIBATIONS - Aqua Vino Bliss [Wine] — Choi Seunghyun [Water] — Pool [Citrus Rind] — Kink (Slapping & Exhibitionism) Masterlist

It had been the perfect day.  Warm, lazy, relaxing.  You and Seunghyun had checked into the luxury hotel two days ago, and planned to take every opportunity to soak in the sun and spend some quality time together.

The day before was spent in the resort’s five-star spa, both of you being pampered with facials and full body massages.  For someone who really couldn’t stand skinship, Seunghyun could hardly deny the true pleasure of a deep tissue massage to work out someone’s knotted muscles.  

Now, after a slow morning of waking up whenever you felt like it, room-service breakfast together on your private balcony, you both were immersed in the large, pristine blue pool overlooking the East China Sea.  

Soft, tropical music was being played through nearby speakers which melded perfectly with the hushed sound of waves crashing on the shore and the rustling of the palm trees overhead.

Despite the perfectly curated sounds that the resort had provided for ultimate relaxation, the only thing that Seunghyun could hear was the quiet whimpering from you.

“Aren’t you enjoying yourself, Princess?”  His deep voice was low, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he pulled you closely to his chest.  With a slow nod of your head, you breathed out, “...yes, yes Daddy.”

One of his large hands rested protectively on top of one of your thighs that was straddled over his lap, and his other was splayed out across your lower back, keeping you firmly in place.  

Lounged on an underwater chaise, Seunghyun’s long legs were stretched out before him, and his back was propped up against the rest behind.  You sat on top of him, your bikini-clad chest pressed up against his bare skin, and your cheek was resting gently on his shoulder.

To the unsuspecting passerby, you simply looked like two lovers enjoying each other’s company on a romantic vacation.  Some might suggest it looked like an extreme case of PDA, but most would just brush it off as an affectionate gesture.

Unbeknownst to literally every other person nearby, which really wasn’t all that close since the pool was massive, Seunghyun had pulled your bikini bottoms to the side, just enough to push his long, thick cock deep inside your pussy.  

He teasingly shifted his fingertips to tickle against your thighs, up the sides of your ribs and then soothingly up and down your honey toned back.  Turning his head, he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck before mumbling, “you’re being such a good girl for me, keeping me so warm and comfy inside you.”

You couldn’t help but moan quietly against his skin, and your inner walls involuntarily clenched tightly around him, buried so deep inside of you.  A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, licking gently at the place on your neck his lips had just touched.  “You love it when I praise you, huh?”

Without words, you sighed an affirmative noise, clenching around him once more.  Seunghyun’s flat hand traveled down your back and over the curve of your ass, giving it a hard squeeze before he lifted it just enough to let it come cracking back down against your ass cheek with the water rippling in its wake.  

The pain of the slap caused you to jolt, involuntarily rising up on your knees and his cock just an inch or so, but still enough for Seunghyun to tsk into your ear.  “Had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

“No, Daddy… no, look…” you murmured, sitting back enough to look at his face, sinking back down on his throbbing cock, the sensation overwhelming, feeling so, so, so completely full.  Another breathy moan, and “look, I’m being good for you.”

Seunghyun slowly shook his head disappointingly at you, and after taking mental note that not a single person was looking your way, he lifted that same open palm and let it come crashing against your cheek, the force moving your head to the side in its trajectory.

Instead of removing his hand after the slap, shifted it so his thumb sunk into the flesh of your opposite cheek and his palm now covered your mouth, essentially squishing your cheeks and making your lips pucker.  

Rather than trying to keen away from the harsh pain, your eyes rolled back and had he not kept your head in place, it would’ve tipped back as you let out a filthy moan, your pussy fluttering wantonly around his thick shaft.

“Careful Darling… if you make too much noise people might look.”  Giving your face a small shake, he turned your head just enough to inspect the red mark that started to bloom over your soft cheek.  Letting go of your face, he trailed his fingertips over the warm skin affectionately.  “You wouldn’t want anyone to know what a filthy girl you were, would you?”

Despite his harsh actions, and his punishments anytime you disobeyed him, you were completely drunk on anything and everything Seunghyun did to and for you.  You trusted him more than anyone else on the planet, and because of it, you were addicted to the feeling of submitting for him.

“Now… if you can stay still here on Daddy’s cock until the sun fully sets, I promise to make it worth your while.”  He cooed, lifting his hand to brush your long hair behind one ear, observing the oversensitized, almost dumbed-out expression on your face.  “Can you stay still like a good little girl?”

You nodded your head once more, eyes glassy, lips parted in a quiet moan, your hands gripping onto his shoulders.  “Y-yes, Daddy.”

Resting his hand on the back of your head, he pressed a lingering kiss against your forehead before coaxing you to rest your cheek back on his shoulder, facing the edge of the infinity pool and the sparkling sea beyond.  Your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders and you relaxed against him, ass and cheek still tingling from his assault, but still feeling like the most cherished girl in the world.

my tags: @angel-writes-here @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @moontabi

[sysig]

Ranking Pepper’s hammocks A-F now that he’s made five of them

First - B - Not a bad start! But why did he put it on top of the pre-built nest. It is literally right there. Overall, good protection and well reinforced just... You didn’t have to make a new one, Pepper

Second - C - No reinforcement, no safety net, out in the middle of the top of the enclosure, extremely visible and see-through, which is great for me because I can see him napping - very cute, but Pepper, your safety and security!

Third - A - The molt hammock! Thick webbing, obscured under moss, easy to overlook and well protected! But he stayed in there for a literal week and scared me >:0

Fourth - D - Made a tiny, very sparse hammock in the cattails for one night and has since abandoned it. Why even bother at that point? He still fit in the first two hammocks!

Fifth - A - The best napping hammock so far! In the opposite corner from the pre-built so not directly on top of an easier solution, closer to the light source in the evening, decently thick and secure, and in a corner so he’s not just hanging out in the direct middle of the enclosure - protected on two sides! Bonus points for having caught a little video of him doing the booty dance construction :)

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[samsblades]

✶ . ၄၃ . soft 'n sleepy — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, fluffy smut, consensual somnophilia, dry humping, finger sucking, praise, so super sweet sam, swearing, praise, aftercare, pet names (angel, honey, baby), unedited, 1.3K words. requested ! MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY

summary : it doesn't take you long to fall asleep after a long hunt. sam, however, can't seem to fall asleep or keep his hands dick to himself.

you're so pretty and soft every time you fall asleep in his arms. sam just loves it when you're sleepy, eyes bleary and fluttering closed, lips parting and little puffs of breath leaving your nose as he tucks you against his chest.

this hunt was draining, especially for you, and you fall asleep quickly now that it's over. sometimes, all he needs to follow right after you is your presence. having you close is so reassuring, comforting. but tonight, it’s not nightmares or guilt that he’s worried about disrupting his sleep. instead, it’s your closeness that keeps him awake.

your thighs against his, the little shift of your hips that pushes your ass right into his crotch. your soft, even breathing, and your limp fingers splayed across his wrist. he’s been aching for you, but hasn’t said a thing, knowing how tired you are.

and he’d feel guilty about the growing bulge in his pants as he thinks about your pretty chest under the loose fabric of your comfy shirt, the grey panties you fell asleep in, your bare thighs. but you’ve told him, most definitely more than once, that you like the idea of him getting off in bed with you while you’re asleep. you’d used the words “you can use me like that. it’s okay, i promise.” he replays the sound of your pretty voice saying it, sincere and flirty all at once, and he just gets harder. “i want it,” you’d said. you want him to use you like that.

so he really just can’t resist gently tugging you closer, pulling your ass flush against him, and wrapping his other arm around you to softly cup your chest over your shirt. he gives a roll of his hips into you and bites back a quiet groan. and with that, he’s a goner.

you had the sense to get a separate room from dean when arriving at the motel, so as sam gets needier and needier, slowly rocking his hips into you, he doesn’t bother silencing his quickening breath and soft moans. he only keeps his sounds quiet for your sake, though he’s sure you’ll wake eventually.

his hand slides down from your hips, under your shirt, past the sensitive skin of your lower belly, and right over your thinly clothed pussy. he can’t help it, he just loves to hold you there, his hand hot and heavy as he cups your pretty cunt. he groans softly at the feeling, pressing into you with both his hand and hips now.

you stir, just a bit, letting out a little huff of breath through your mouth that just makes him grind against your ass with more desperation. and when a sweet, gravelly moan leaves your lips, he can’t help but indulge himself. the hand that was so softly palming your chest moves upwards, fingertips brushing over your collarbone until he has a gentle grip on your chin. with your lips parted just enough, he’s able to push his finger past your teeth and into the warm wet of your mouth.

he feels your tongue instinctively push against the intrusion and you draw in a deep breath through your nose as you start to rouse. his other hand starts to rub soft circles against the fabric of your panties and despite how painfully hard and turned on he is, even the rocking of his hips against you is gentle, caring, and slow.

a quiet, throaty groan falls from his lips and right into your ear as he feels your lips wrap around his finger, followed by your sweet, sleepy suckling, signaling that you’ve woken and immediately accepted his filthy actions. with your mind still so foggy with sleep, you don’t seem to have much control over your body. your hips squirm tiredly, pushing back into him, and the way that you suck on his finger is unabashed and interrupts the stillness of the room with wet, sloppy sounds. in mere seconds, there’s saliva dripping down his fingers and past the corners of your mouth.

despite your wordless enthusiasm, and the way that his clothed dick pushing into the plush of your ass makes him practically whimper into your ear, sam pauses his desperate movements against you for just a moment.

“this okay, baby?” he whispers sweetly, gruffly because he’s holding back. one of your clumsy hands finds his wrist, wrapping around it in reassurance.

“mhmm,” you hum around his finger, too sleepy to do much else, but wanting him to know that this is more than okay.

“good,” he huffs out, his hips rolling against yours with more urgency now, voice thick with barely contained desperation. “you’re so good. so good for me, aren’t you, angel? so perfect and pretty, letting me– mmph, use ya while you’re still sleeping. always so– god, so fuckin’ good for me.”

his hand rubbing against your pussy, his fingertips pressing over your clit, are making you just as desperate as him, and the feeling of him pushing a second finger into your mouth only intensifies the pleasure. you suck on his fingers contentedly, and the both of you leak through your underwear enough for the other to feel it.

along with the quiet drip from the janky sink in the bathroom and rush of a shitty window air conditioning unit, the room fills with soft grunts and whines and moans, the rustle of overused blankets, sam’s praises, and your sweet suckling. sam cums first, soaking his boxers and the back of your panties. the sound of his broken moan in your ear and the insistence of his fingers over your covered clit sends you reeling in pleasure just moments after.

he lets you keep lapping at his fingers as you come down from it, knowing the feeling quiets your mind. he’s positive that you’d fall right back asleep with his fingers in your mouth if he didn’t insist on cleaning you up first. so even though it makes you whine tiredly, he slowly slips his fingers out and gently pulls you around to face him.

his reverent lips find your forehead first, then your own spit-slick mouth. he kisses you all chaste and lovely, as if to apologize for waking you, despite it being so good for you too. the kiss is enough to satisfy you after having his fingers pulled away from your eager mouth, so you snuggle up close to him, not resisting the pull of sleep as it tugs down your heavy eyelids.

“honey,” he murmurs into the skin of your forehead, “let me clean you up first, please. then you can sleep as long as you want, promise.” you just give him a sleepy hum, but he rolls with it, untangling himself from you. he strips himself of his dirtied boxers, quickly pulling on a new pair before he pulls the blankets away from your legs. 

he slips your own soaked underwear off, watching your face, barely lit from whatever light seeps in through the blinds of the window by the door. your eyes are barely open, just because you want to watch him, and a soft smile tugs at your lips from his ever present sweetness and care. his heart jumps at the sight, so he covers your bare legs back to avoid giving you goosebumps from the cold, and slips away for a moment. not before leaving a kiss to the skin of your calf.

just moments later, he crawls back into the bed with a warm, dampened washcloth to deal with all the stickiness and a spare shirt because he admittedly got the back of your sleep shirt wet too. he cleans the mess on your skin first, then urges you to sit up just a bit with gentle hands and a tone of voice he know you won’t be able to resist.

“arms up,” he mumbles as he pulls the shirt off for you, then replaces it with one of his own soft, worn t-shirts. then he tucks you back into his chest and under the blankets, fighting off the sleep that was previously evading him until he feels you fall asleep first. then he sleeps like a damn rock and is woken in the morning by your lips on his neck.

[enimsiyobeht]

8 that! (ate that). drabble.

mdni 😼 !! boypussy seonghwa x amab reader. power bottom hwa & service top reader if you squinttt (its obvious). implied 9th member reader. risky setting (they're literally doing allat on the couch but they dgaf), seonghwa. wearing. lace. panties. (#needthat). use of folds, pussy, lips, hole, clit, cunt, and entrance as seonghwa's gential. oral (s. receiving), minor fingering (s. receiving), cowgirl, unprotected sex (in my defense, they ran out of condoms), mention of birth control pill, 1st time raw, minor squirting, multiple orgasms if you think about it.

It started innocently, like most things with Seonghwa did.

A lazy afternoon, sunlight filtering through the curtains, the two of you tucked into the corner of the couch like you had no plans to move for the rest of the day. The drama playing on the TV had been long forgotten, reduced to background noise while Seonghwa half-lay across your lap, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, your hand casually massaging slow circles into his upper thigh.

“Comfy?” you murmured, your thumb grazing dangerously close to the hem of his shorts.

“Mhm.” He didn’t look up. “But your fingers are distracting.”

“You want me to stop?”

He paused. Then finally glanced at you, eyes lidded, lips curling into that subtle smirk he wore when he wanted trouble. “Did I say that?”

You let out a low chuckle and slid your hand a little higher. He was only wearing one of your oversized hoodies—soft gray cotton that hung halfway down his thighs—and you could feel just a sliver of bare skin beneath. No waistband. No shorts?

Your brows lifted. “Are you seriously naked under this?”

Seonghwa gave you an innocent look, like he didn’t know what you were talking about. “They’re lace,” he said, tone light, teasing. “You like them.”

“Oh, you little shit.”

Your hand slipped up between his thighs, and he shifted without protest, letting you explore. Sure enough, when your fingers brushed up against the delicate fabric, they came away wet. A soft patch of slick had soaked straight through the thin lace, and the sight of it—the feel of it—sent heat surging through your body.

“I knew you were acting bratty for a reason,” you muttered, leaning in so your lips brushed his temple. “You’ve been wet this whole time?”

“Maybe,” he whispered, sounding a little breathless now, voice betraying the calm expression on his face. “Thought you’d notice sooner.”

“I always notice, Hwa. I just like watching you squirm first.”

His legs parted instinctively, just a bit, the slow tease between your fingers making his thighs twitch. You slid your palm higher, cupping him through the lace, and he gasped softly—hips pressing up against your touch like he couldn’t help it.

“You're soaked,” you whispered against his cheek. “All for me?”

He looked at you, eyes glassy now, lips parted. “Who else?”

That did it.

You guided him down onto the cushions, the hoodie riding up as he settled into the plush corner of the couch. His thighs fell open easily, confidently—he knew exactly what he was doing, stretched out for you, letting that soaked patch of lace be the center of your attention.

“Wanna show me properly?” you asked, voice low, reverent.

He bit his lip, lifted the hoodie just enough to give you a clear view, and you exhaled like he’d knocked the wind out of you.

“Fuck, baby…”

The lace clung to his folds, transparent now with slick, the fabric darkened where it had soaked through entirely. Your mouth watered at the sight, and your hands trembled slightly as you leaned in.

“You always this cocky when you’re dripping through your panties?”

Seonghwa tilted his head back, exhaling a shaky laugh. “Only when I know you’re gonna take care of it.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

You pressed a kiss over the fabric first, mouthing at the sticky heat beneath. He shivered, fingers already threading through your hair as you pulled the panties aside with your teeth, slow and deliberate.

His pussy was soaked—lips glistening, hole twitching gently like it already missed being filled. You groaned at the sight.

“You taste so fucking good,” you growled, dragging your tongue from his entrance to his clit, slow and reverent.

Seonghwa moaned, high and pretty, back arching against the couch. “F-Fuck—baby…”

You licked into him again, slower this time, tongue pressing inside while your nose bumped against his clit. His fingers tugged at your hair, not to guide you—just to anchor himself as the pleasure rolled over him in waves.

“You always eat like you’re starving,” he gasped.

“I am starving,” you mumbled into his cunt. “For you.”

He whimpered. “You’re such a fucking menace.”

You grinned against him and buried your face even deeper, locking your arms around his thighs and holding him open as your tongue worked him in slow, wet circles—savoring every moan, every stutter of his hips, every time his thighs trembled and he whined out your name.

Your tongue worked him open, slow and deep, letting the taste of him linger on your tongue as you moaned against his soaked heat. Seonghwa was already squirming, trying not to buck up too much, voice catching every time you teased his entrance just to pull away again.

“Fuck—why are you so good at this,” he breathed out, head tilted back, hair sticking to his forehead from the heat building between you both. “You’re gonna make me cum just like this.”

“That’s the idea,” you murmured against his folds. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

He whimpered, a little breathless laugh escaping his lips. “You always say that… but you really mean it when you’re between my legs.”

You smiled, and this time you brought your hand into play—thumb gently circling his clit while two fingers found his twitching hole, rubbing against it, pressing inside slowly. He gasped, the stretch already making his eyes flutter closed.

“God,” you whispered. “You’re so fucking tight… always pull me in like you were made for it.”

“I was,” he moaned, shifting his hips to help you go deeper. “Fuck, baby, right there—”

Your fingers curled instinctively, hitting his spot, and he nearly sobbed. Slick squelched around your hand, leaking onto the couch beneath him, and you just kept going—devoted, careful, focused on his pleasure and nothing else.

Your cock throbbed in your pants, painfully hard, but you ignored it. This was about him. Watching him fall apart, giving him everything he needed—that was enough.

When his thighs started shaking and his walls fluttered around your fingers, you slowed, gently easing off so he could catch his breath.

Seonghwa blinked down at you, dazed. “Why’d you stop?”

You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, kissed the inside of his thigh. “Because I wanted you to cum like that. Thought I’d deal with this—” you gestured vaguely at the obvious bulge in your pants, “—later.”

Seonghwa stared at you for a second. Then he laughed—quiet and disbelieving—as he sat up and swung a leg over your lap, settling his weight right against your bulge with no hesitation.

“Hwa—wait,” you breathed, hands landing on his hips to still him.

“No,” he said firmly, eyes locking with yours. “You get me soaked, finger me open on the couch, and you think I’m gonna let you walk away hard?”

You exhaled, jaw tight with restraint. “We’re out of condoms.”

That made him pause, but not in the way you expected. He blinked once, slowly, then tilted his head. “So?”

You stared. “So I’m not gonna fuck you without one. I told you I would never—”

“I know,” he cut in, voice low and steady now. “That’s why I’m telling you it’s okay.”

Your heart jumped.

He leaned in, hands braced on your chest. “It’s just you. Only you. I want to feel you.”

“Fuck, Hwa…” you swallowed hard, already pulsing against him. “You sure?”

He nodded slowly, rolling his hips once against you, dragging his soaked pussy along the shape of your cock through your pants. “I’m on the pill. I haven’t let anyone else touch me since we started this. I want to feel you—really feel you.”

That snapped the last thread of your resistance.

You lifted your hips, enough to shove your sweats down fully, and your cock slapped up against your stomach, glistening with precum from the arousal of eating him out. Seonghwa stared for a second, eyes wide and blown out.

Then, without a word, he reached between you, lined himself up, and sank down.

The gasp he let out was sharp, desperate, his back arching as he took you to the hilt in one smooth motion. Your own breath stuttered, eyes rolling back as his bare heat wrapped around you—tight and wet and fucking perfect.

“Holy shit,” you groaned, hands flying to his waist to steady him. “You’re—fuck—you feel so...”

Seonghwa was shaking already, mouth parted in a silent moan as he adjusted to the stretch. “It’s so much,” he gasped, nails digging into your chest. “I can feel everything.”

You didn’t dare move yet—too overwhelmed by the pulsing heat gripping you tight, milking you, like his body never wanted to let go.

He rocked his hips once, shallow and slow, and the both of you moaned in sync.

“I’m never letting you go back to condoms,” he whispered through a breathless laugh.

You almost laughed back, but it turned into a grunt as he picked up the pace—grinding down, bouncing in your lap, sweet pussy swallowing your cock with messy, wet sounds that made your spine tingle.

“Hwa—fuck, baby—” Your grip on his hips tightened. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“I know,” he panted, flushed and ruined already, moving with confidence. “So don’t hold back. Give it to me.”

You thrust up to meet him and his head fell back, voice breaking on a moan. You were already close—too close from how long you’d been teasing each other. But you wanted him to cum first, to cream all over your cock, to make the mess he clearly wanted.

“Cum on me,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss the column of his throat. “Make me feel it, baby. Soak me.”

And with one more deep thrust, he did—walls clenching tight as he cried out, grinding down hard as he came, making slick gush over your cock and thighs, warm and wet and obscene.

Your release followed seconds later, buried deep inside him, body locking up as you groaned into his neck and filled him with every drop.

yeah i kinda ate that shit up.

[telamonisms]

Oughh I love the way you write chance, can I request a fluff oneshot of reader accidentally falling asleep ontop of chance and he just quietly panic (still trying to get used to the touch) but also not wanting to wake them up.. I hope it's not too much to ask for 🥲

✦My first request of this batch and it's a Chance one, I had to ask Telamon to momentarily gift me with a tail just so I could wag it upon reading this.

✦BABY STEPS✦

You and Chance had been dating for around four months now and things were moving at a snail's pace between you both. You weren't bothered by it however, more than happy to allow Chance to mark the pace and take all the time they needed.

The rounds for the day had already ended, dinner had already been prepared and eaten, there had been a coulple of rounds of board games in which everyone participated before people started retiring to their rooms or leaving to do something else.

Between thouse people, you and Chance.

It had only been very recently, a coulple of weeks ago, that Chance finally allowed you to spend time with him in his room and so, tonight after quickly fetching a book to read from your own room, you followed Chance as he allowed you into his room.

Finding a comfy spot on his bed you sat down, the atmosphere calm on your part. On his, you knew that he was monitoring your every move even with his signature shades fully hiding his eyes.

You don't blame him. You don't quite have all the details, he won't tell you just yet, at most you can assume from what little he's told you that he suffered a grave betrayal that left him with such huge trust issues.

Chance attempts to hide his nerves by making small talk with you as he too sits down on the bed and begins to clean and care for his flintlock.

They talk about the rounds of that day, bragging about how they hit all their shots and how Lady Luck had been on their side that day. You know itXs not their typical, honest bragging, but the one they use to cover up the shakiness on their voice. You don't mention it and instead shower them in praise.

Eventually they finish their routine clean and care of their flintlock, loading it before tucking it safely somewhere within their person, ready for use should it be needed. Once more, you don't fault them. They finally ask about your book, flipping their coin, not to gamble but to soothe their own nerves. You tell them it's a slice of life, you'd never had too big of an interest for them but after finding yourself in this realm, you used them as a means of coping somewhat.

He gives it a light skim with his eyes, deciding to instead keep flipping his coin. You yawn and get yourself into a comfier position in bed, he hides his flinch, but his coin flips slow down for a bit until after you settle down again.

You weren't yet allowed to cuddle him, you'd only just moved on from locking pinkies to actually holding hands. Still you wouldn't fault him.

The time passes in silence as you enjoy your book and he flips his coin, just a bit less vigilant. At some point he'd moved posotions, sitting under the covers, letting you know you could do so too after he saw you slightly shivering but still not joining him in the warmth. Another yawn, your eyes felt heavy and you were having trouble reading, needing to go over the same sentence multiple times to fully process it.

Flip, flip, flip, yawn, flip, flip, flip, yawn flip, flip- Chance's coin fell off his grasp as he suddently felt a weight over his side, hand immediatly reaching for his flintlock, only pausing as he saw your book slip from your grasp and looked at your sleeping face.

His shoulders were tense, he stared you down with deer in the headlights eyes, only after your slow breathing confirmed to him that you were in fact asleep and not faking did he let go of his flintlock.

He was panicking really, his breathing shaky and quickened and his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest, the only reason he wasn't shaking was because of how tense they were.

Weighting down their options, they knew they could wake you up and you wouldn't be mad at them, they knew the only thing that'd come out of your mouth would be rapid fire apologies.

Yet they also didn't want to wake you up, today had been exausting for you with the rounds, all the luck he had, was flipped as bad luck for you, getting constantly targeted by the killers, being kept on far too many chases.

Eventually they ever so gently pulled you to his chest, fully laying down with you on top of him, he was sure that his hammering heartbeat would make it into your dreams. He could only hope it wouldn't turn them unpleasant.

After taking the book, placing a bookmark on it and letting it rest on his nightstand, he turned off the lights, wishing you a good night and some sweet dreams.

Chance did not sleep that night but he thinks he might at least allow you to lean on him next time.

✦First request of the day finished, thank you for sending this lovely prompt anon. I deeply enjoyed working on it and I hope it is to your liking.

[teddybeartoji]

snow leopard!gojo, who pounces on you in the early morning, brushing his nose against yours. he nips at the soft skin of your cheek and then at your earlobe, giggling to himself as you begin to stir under him.

cracking open your eyes, you're met with a giddy big cat. his tail can't stop twirling around – he's just so excited. he bumps his nose into your again with a big grin before pulling back and situating himself onto your lap. he's so cute.

he thinks you're cute, too. all sleepy and comfy and warm. he watches you rub the remaining sleep from your eyes with a yawn and he wiggles his hips on top of you, diverting your attention back to him. he points to the window with way too much enthusiasm and he revels in the way your eyes widen at the sight.

big snowflakes dance in the air and it just looks so beautiful. no wonder why he's so revved up. the light from outside illuminates the whole room and you take the moment to admire him. his pretty crystal-blue eyes are glued to the window; snowflakes swim in the pupils and he's perfect. white hair and white eyelashes, he looks like a proper snow angel. his dark fuzzy ears twitch and a smile makes its way onto your face.

his tail swings by you and you grab onto it gently. it's so soft. you let it swirl around your hand and fingers and now he's staring at you. his lips are so pink and so are his cheeks. and the tip of his nose. he's extremely excited.

so, you usher him off with a laugh, ordering him to put some warm clothes on while you do the same.

he doesn't need as many layers as you do and he thinks you look absolutely adorable all bundled up like that. he fake-bites your nose just before stepping out, making your face scrunch up with a laugh. pulling on your gloves, you rush after him. his eagerness is rubbing off on you, there's no fighting it. he looks so happy and that's making you happy, too.

satoru doesn't waste a second before diving into the snow. he literally dives in head first and you stare at him in shock. his head pops back up and he has the most beautiful smile on his face. he shakes his head like a wet dog, making the snow fly everywhere. his eyes lock onto you and you know what's coming. backing up with a nervous laugh, you try to escape your boyfriend but you can't.

his giggles echo over the street as he tackles you into the ground. soft snow breaks your fall but it doesn't really matter because the only thing you feel right now are the butterflies in your stomach. he's so close. his whole body rests on top of you and it's nothing new; it's ridiculous, how he still has this effect on you. he brushes a few stray hairs from your face and his breath fans over you.

"you're so pretty."

his voice is gentle, the syllables falling from his lips just like the snowflakes outside. slow and full of love, ready to engulf you completely in them. there are stars in his eyes as he stares down at you – dainty flakes adorn his hair and his cheeks are redder than ever. he's perfect.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips and then he's already scrambling off of you, leaving you in the pile with a flustered expression. when you push yourself onto your ass, you see him rolling around in the snow and you can't surpress the loud laugh that creeps up your throat. his head whips towards you and he gives you another bashful grin. your heart feels so full.

satoru is laying down on his stomach and he's wriggling his ass like a real cat. he looks silly (and so fucking cute). his big crystal eyes stare at you over the snow pile and your cheeks hurt from smiling. he plays his part in being a big bad predator and he lunges at you again, proud of the sounds spilling from your lips. you spend another fifteen minutes by running away from him. by throwing snowballs at him. by getting tackled. by laughing so hard that you almost piss yourself. and by getting kissed stupid. he can't keep his hands away from you for more than a minute and you couldn't be any happier.

[yourlocalzombiewriter]

And I don't even like you that much!

Wait…, I do…, fuck

(Black myth wukongs head-canons)

Author note: hi!, I’m not that use to writing and English is not exactly my first language so there might be a lot of spelling mistakes.

And this is my first time writing for Sun wukong (Black myth) so he might not seem in character, if that makes sense. Either way I hope you enjoy!

★ ✵ ★

Assuming you two are already dating, and he’s comfy around you, please prepare for some chaotic moments.

Not a single Moment is dry nor empty with this mischievous monkey.

From spooking you with a clone of himself, or annoying your with one of his many transformations, he never runs out of ideas to surprise you with.

That being said, he is a bit laid back now depending on what period you’re dating him. After the events of journey to the west, he is way more calmer then his “younger” self.

He enjoys the simplicity of day to day activities now, cuddling, cleaning up a small section in which you both share. Or laying out under a tree with you as you read to him.

Those small moments mean much more to him now.

He loves to pridefully declare his fearlessness and having no such thing as “a biggest fear”. But at night that’s quickly disproven, sometimes he uncharacteristically sits in silence. Mind making up fake scenarios of your demise that could have been caused by him, his reputation, his enemies. He has a silent vow to himself to protect you first with his immortal life, no matter the cost and punishment he may endure.

An uncomfortable fear of having something of value so precious, so fragile is almost to much to handle. He doesn’t look down upon you mortal or not, but he will still fret for your safety. He’s so tired of losing things he holds dear, and after not having that feeling for centuries before you came along, he almost gets so wrapped up in the possibility of losing you, he loses sight that he has you right now.

He loves picking you up at random times, doesn’t need to be a situation where you need to be picked up he’ll just do it. No matter height or weight he loves seeing you shocked and giggling.

His most sensitive parts are definitely his tail and ears, maybe his nose too. If you kiss him from ear all across his cheek to his nose, he swears all his immortal lives end there from how his hearts pumping.

He does plan on marrying you, makes it very vocal too in the beginning to make sure you know what your committing to.

Loves when you comb and pick at his fur, don’t even get started on complementing it. He’ll easily sit between your legs for hours as you comb through the top of his head, getting rid of knots and such.

He wraps his tail absentmindedly when you stand near him. He doesn’t really even acknowledge it happening, it usually wraps around your ankle or thigh Or lazily around your hips.

Watches you as you sleep, not even in a creepy way he just has to take time to appreciate you for just your mere existence.

Spoils you with fruits, peaches especially of course, but he mixes it up here to there. Sometimes he just comes waltzing in with buckets if not wagons of ripe fruit from different regions.

When you hurriedly say you cannot eat that much before they wither, he’ll just laugh. Because he knows he can so whatever you leave over he finishes it off happily. But if your generous your free to share with the other demon monkeys on the island.

He likes carrying you in his arms while he rides his nimbus cloud.

You can point to random spots and he’ll happily zoom on over there to let you explore. Of course with him trailing closely behind you.

(I’m aware that in most tellings of journey to the west they say picking up a mortal from the ground is almost impossible, but I’m gonna dismiss that. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

He likes lounging around with you on slow afternoon’s cuddling and engorging in different types of luxuries.

He loves taking you to hot springs, and enjoying time there together relaxing. That or a near by waterfall he frequents.

If he sees something you may like he just snatches it, doesn’t really matter to him where he took it, half of the time he doesn’t know himself. As long as it is worthy to be appreciated by you.

He takes naps on you, just asks you to lay down and then lays on your chest or stomach and falls into a comatose state for a good while.

★ ✵ ★

That’s all I have for right now, I hope these were enjoyable to read!.

( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾

[littlebearbun]

Stanley Pines NSFW Alphabet

(Written for myself. lmao)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tbh I think this depends. If it's with a one night stand, he's pretty “hit it and sleep” or he goes to the Stanmobile to sleep if they're being clingy or he's spooked. A quick “thanks, toots” and a slap on the ass and he's out. If he's with someone he cares about, he's very clingy. Will give them a sip of his Pitt from the side table and lots of kisses and his hands are everywhere. Does not care about sweat or wiping anything down. Wants to be big spoon to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: His hands/arms. Knows he's muscley and knows his hands are huge. Also likes his crooked grin cause it's very different from Ford’s smile. Theirs: loves a good pair of thick thighs. Tbh I don't see him disliking any part of his partner but he loves them “with meat on their bones” as he says. More to grab and squish. (When they've been together for a while, will say he adores their eyes, too, but especially when they're looking at him.)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Comes a lot and it's pretty thick. Doesn't taste bad but not good either (his diet isn't great) Would prefer to come inside but is fine with it on their face/chest/stomach/ass/etc. He's not picky.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I could see him keeping panties in his pocket and randomly touching them or holding them against his face.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's…experienced in one night stands. Knows what he's doing but only when it's rough/fast/etc. If it's slow and sweet he gets flustered and is easier to overwhelm.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sitting against the headboard with them in his lap, their back to his chest, slow deep fuckin or using his fingers. Will whisper naughty things in their ear and watch his hand between their legs. Would never forget the image of his lover wearing his gold chain, riding him, the pendant swinging with their movements.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Once he's comfy, he can be both. I can see him teasing and picking lil fights and trying to make them laugh, but I could also see him just wanting their attention focused. Is very “keep your eyes on me”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Grey hairs around the base. Probably doesn't care about trimming it unless his partner asks him to, and will probably make a grumbly comment about the effort. He does not care if his partner shaves.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, depends if it's a one night stand or not. If it is, it's not romantic at all. He's there for one thing only, no strings attached. If it isn't, he's absolutely worshipful. Kisses stretch marks, moles, scars. Nuzzles everywhere he can get to tickle with his stubble. Calls them every pet name in the book. Says how lucky he is to have landed someone like them.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Probably doesn't do it much after he takes over the Mystery Shack, reminds him of how lonely he is. When he was drifting, he does it to forget but only if he can't find a willing partner to spend the night with instead. After he gets Ford back and has a partner, he would do it but only to a, tease his partner or b, cope with them being gone for a few days. Prefers them on the phone for it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Definitely into edging/overstimulation. Stealth collars, makes his chest puff up in pride.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His office or in front of a mirror. Or his armchair. Or his car. He has a lot of favorites, sue him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

For most of his life, he's only in it for himself. Likes when his partners beg and make him feel important. Later, when with someone for a while, domestic shit gets him. They brought him a Pitt and kissed his cheek and he's hard???? Still really likes feeling like the “big man of the house” tho.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doesn't like handcuffs on himself, they remind him of prison. Doesn't like if he can't see/hear/move his hands. Will never involve another in the bedroom. His self esteem is too low for that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers to receive I think. Again, makes him feel in control. Much rather use his hands on his partner so he can look at their face easier and see their expressions.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally rougher for sure. Sensual is a once in a while thing if he needs reassurance.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Often. Hell yes. He loves em. Wants to see how quickly he can get them off on a back closet, or his office, or in the shower. Power trip.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experimenting sure, I could see him trying a lot. Risks, depends. Doesn't want the twins to see. Doesn't want Ford to see. Doesn't want anyone to see, really.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s good for one round himself, but he's more than willing to use his mouth or hands until his partner is satisfied. Doesn't mind if that takes a while. Would absolutely lay in bed all lazily while fingering them after he's finished.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Some of them?? More into using them on a partner than himself. Would love collars, nipple clamps, maybe a flog. Would be strangely intrigued if they had different kinds of dildos. (What shape is that?? Let me watch you try it)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Merciless tease. Whispers naughty shit all day. “I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, babe, say it again? Louder?” Touches everywhere but where they want most.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He grunts and groans a lot. Will not shut up, talks for the entire time.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If you say he's a “good man” it breaks him. He still has a hard time remembering some things sometimes (can wake up missing pieces). Sometimes the bad things come back first and he needs kind words and to be reminded he's safe

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Huge arms, very very strong. Prominent gut, obviously. His legs are skinnier than the rest of him. Very hairy. Brand on his back and maybe a few tattoos from his gang days, but nothing too serious.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Once he has a partner he loves? It's high. Wants them constantly, even if it's just their body near his. When he was drifting, I think it was only if he wanted a place to sleep or was really lonely. Sometimes he felt worse after.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes the after sex cuddles, so he stays up a bit. Will tease them about the sex in a rough, quiet voice.

[girlyassumes]

“I’ll keep my manifestations small.”

Okay but…you don’t have to. No one aside from yourself is keeping you from going higher and drastically changing your life. If you want to become a famous singer, you can. If you want to date a celebrity, you can. If you want to get 1,000s of dollars a day, you can. Nothing is impossible.

And, let me be clear, this isn’t me saying you should be manifesting big, crazy changes. If you are comfortable and happy manifesting an SP you already know, having a job near you, etc, then keep doing that. Do what makes you happy. What I’m saying is you can manifest bigger things if that’s what you’re going for. If you want something drastically different than what you have or are experiencing in your current reality, you are very much capable of changing that and I encourage you to do so. Don’t you dare think that you can’t and end up settling for less than what you want.

Why do we downplay ourselves?

There’s a lot of people have ambitious goals and either 1) work their ass off to get it or 2) end up settling for something less. Why does this happen? Because we’re told you have to work hard to be rewarded with big things, and if you don’t, “life’s not fair” - you have to go with what feels easier to get or just quit. If a dream or goal seems too “unrealistic,” we’re told to let it go and do something else. This has always felt wrong to me and now I know why it has.

You can work your ass off to try and get it, but that alone doesn't fully guarantee that you'll get it. You also put yourself at risk of burning yourself out, which tends to happen a lot with people who push themselves. Affirming that you already have what you desire is most important. You don't have to do anything strenuous to get what you want. Can giving yourself a push help? Sure. What I'm saying that you shouldn't feel the need to force things to happen. Forcing things can actually slow down and create hardships in manifesting, believe it or not. So, I don't recommend doing that. The only time you really need to take action is if you feel that sense of inspired action or divine guidance.

Speaking from personal experience, the fear of change and not getting what you want is also something that can keep us from going above and beyond. We get so comfortable with where we're at that we don't want to be bothered to change that. I've been a very cautious person my whole life and have told myself on many occasions, "I'm a simple person. I don't need much." But, I would be lying to everyone - myself included - if I said I didn't want more and haven't wondered if the grass is truly greener on the other side. I live a very simple, comfy life. And that's not to say my life is bad or I'm "doing it all wrong," but I feel like I'm worth more and could be doing more for myself, especially since I'm starting to feel bored. I realized I'm chasing that feeling of excitement because I'm tired of the monotony. Now that I know I can get whatever it is that I want, I've started questioning what I've been manifesting, and me questioning that is what's stopping me from getting some of the manifestations I've been wishing for. My brain is like, "You can do more." My sister reflects the part of me that craves excitement (she clubs, she travels, she goes to concerts, she's told me to "think bigger"). TLDR: I've been settling out of the fear of change and doubting it's possible to get the "bigger" manifestations. Don't do that to yourself, too.

[This thing] doesn't seem possible

Referring to my last section, you don't have to take action to achieve your goals/manifestations, which may seem crazy and you may be questioning how it's possible to get things without doing anything. But, it is very much possible for desires and opportunities to land in your lap effortlessly. It's happened many times for many people and there's a first time for everything. I'll give some examples.

Taylor Tookes was not well-known for quite some time. She dreamed of being a model but was encouraged to be an influencer because her being a super model on magazine covers didn't seem possible at first. Taylor is only 5'1" and she had very little experience in the world of fashion and modeling. But, Taylor - someone who wasn't a big name or experienced individual - got recognized by famous models and modeling agencies rather quickly. It didn't matter that she was shorter and had very little experience. Taylor simply didn't give up on herself and affirmed that she'd be on the cover of famous magazines (she even wrote a whole list), which is what got her a career in modeling. She even got the confidence to walk into callings that specified they only want women who are 5'9" or 5"10 and she still got the gigs. Taylor even became leader of a group called "Height Revolution" that creates inclusion for petite women in the modeling industry who don't meet the typical height standards. Taylor made herself the first well-known short/petite model in the industry.

Bobbie, who runs the account House of Highbrations, was someone who was known for being unreliable and made poor decisions. She opens up on her YouTube channel about how she never used to show up for herself, let alone for anyone else. After improving her self concept and affirming what she wanted through things like meditation and scripting, she became a very well-known coach in the LOA community with a ton of money. She lives in a luxurious villa now. She got it even through wavering, simply because she kept writing about the ideal place she wanted. After only about a couple weeks, she had a friend suddenly reach out to her and tell her about a villa she found in the spot Bobbie wanted to move to, which is where she ended up moving.

Also think about the businesses and random people who suddenly blew up on social media (ie. TikTok) overnight just for one video or image they put out that went viral. One simple thing can change your life in an instant. It's already been proven to be possible.

[This thing] would be more difficult and take more time to manifest

Nope. Unless you keep saying this is the truth, then it will be your truth. It will take time and it will be hard for you because you're telling yourself that it is. If you affirm that it is easy and that you already have the manifestation(s), then it is easy and you do have it. It's manifesting the positive vs manifesting the negative.

We also tend to put our desires on a pedestal and certain things are easy to view as "big" changes. I'm not saying it's not wrong to be passionate about what you're manifesting (that's a good thing), I'm saying we need to stop seeing it as something that's hard to get, something too good for us, or something that's unobtainable. Taking the manifestations off a pedestal and putting yourself on a pedestal is what you want to be doing. Tell yourself that you are worthy of your desires and your dream life. Tell yourself you're so good - you have them already. You don't even have to fully believe that this is true, you just have to tell your subconscious that it is what's true. Your subconscious isn't running on feeling - it's producing what you feed/tell it. Sammy Ingram has made the analogy that it's like a printer: You send a file to the printer, it processes it and produces it out into the physical world.

Your subconscious doesn't register an SP you already know as someone who's easier to get than a celebrity SP who has no clue who you are. If you keep telling it that you're with Taylor Swift, then it makes her come into your life to be your girlfriend because that's what you told it. It's that simple. Your subconscious believes that what you say is what's true and makes it so.

I also want to refer to something Bobbie (House of Highbrations) said in one of her recent videos. Think about how much society values money - it's very high up there. It's become such a massive importance in our lives. We're conditioned to value money and put it on a high pedestal. But, what if we conditioned our brains differently? Bobbie tells a story about an ex she had who acted as if money meant nothing - it's just a part of life; something he can rake in with ease. Because he took money off that high pedestal and sees it as something that's easy to get, he rakes it in like it's nothing. He'd invest in stocks and the stocks would raise without him having to do a thing. He'd just start getting all this money. So, it doesn't matter if other people tell you money is this big thing that's hard to get. If you tell your subconscious it's not a big deal and it's easy to get, then you will get it with ease. And obviously because it's already something that's high value in society, then you're still able to buy everything you want with that money even though it's not on a high pedestal for you.

If this is so easy to do and LOA is real, then why do so many people not have what they want?

Going back to what I wrote in "Why do we downplay ourselves," we're conditioned to believe we have to work hard to get what we want and that some of our desires aren't possible to get, plus some of us are just scared to change and feel doubtful. There's also a lot of people who never learn about LOA and EIYPO or don't understand it. That is why people don't have everything they desire. When we're too hard on ourselves and have really negative views of our reality, this can have a massive impact on what happens in our lives.

Now, don't be mean to yourself and say, "Why haven't I tried this sooner or gotten what I want sooner?" Rewiring our minds isn't always easy to do when just about everyone has been conditioned to believe life is hard and certain things are impossible. I know for me, this has been almost 30 years of not knowing about LOA and just now, I'm understanding that I can do whatever my heart desires. Of course it's not a cake walk when it's been that many years of being told, "Life's not fair - get used to it."

Conclusion

Train your mind to not be intimidated. Nothing you desire is "too big." You are limitless and you do NOT have to settle for less than what you want. Get yourself to understand this and relieve stress.

[secretlysamcro]

Female reader x Jax teller MAJOR SPOILERS! Violence (pregnancy) & Explicit language If you're under the age of 18. haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: "The reader is Jax’s old lady and an rival club finds this out and kidnaps the reader using her for lovage against the sons, the reader is pregnant and hasn’t told Jax yet and when he comes to save her she gets injured and taken to the hospital during that he’s finds out and they get to see the baby for the first time together"

Backstory: The tension between the club and the Irish has been brewing for weeks now. Jax pushing to sever all ties with the IRA. Jax is determined to do so in order to protect his club and his family, no matter the cost. Galen on the other hand, isn't ready to let go of the SAMCRO connection so easily. He needs Clay out of prison, and the only people he knows that will get it done is the Sons. He knows Jax won't help him willingly, but he knows the one thing that Jax would do anything for, is you.

“Just one more” he says his voice low and steady, hanging in the doorway like he doesn’t want to leave. His hand wraps around yours, brushing his rough thumb over your knuckles as he closes the space between you once again. The kiss slow and smooth, making it last.

“Jax, go” you laugh, shoving him away playfully, even though part of you wants him to stay. You know he needs to be at the clubhouse. There’s a lot of shit going on at the moment, but as his old lady, you’re only told the stuff he chooses to tell you, the rest is a mystery.

He grins, giving you one last look before jogging down the steps, his trainers thudding against the concrete. The roar of his Dyna filling the air as he takes off down the road.

Your hand drifts to your stomach, cradling the secret you’ve been carrying. The new life you’ve both created. Tonight was the night you were finally going to tell him.

You’d had your suspicions for a while, the doubt creeping in until that one morning when they were confirmed by the positive test. Even then, the shock hit you like a punch. For the most part, you wanted to run to Jax, to tell him right then and there, but you knew it wasn’t the right time. He’d been carrying so much on his shoulders lately, stress from the club, the Irish deal that seemed to be falling apart. The last thing he needed was more pressure.

“Yeah, I’ve got eyes on her now” one of Galen's men says, his Irish accent thick as ever. “I’m sure... he’s just left, she’s home al-...”

You step out of the house in your comfy sweats, car keys and phone in hand. You get into your car, sorting yourself out before starting the engine, completely oblivious to the eyes tracking your every move.

“...Change of plan boss, she’s on the move” He watches your car pull off, tracking your every turn as you head down the street.

Jax sits at the head of the table, the presidential gavel in hand. “All in favour of the Sons breaking ties with the IRA?” he announces, Chibs already shaking his head, aware of the storm brewing.

“This is a bad idea Jackie boy” the VP warns, his voice tight with concern. “Galen’s a bloody butcher, and the IRA? they aint letting us go that easy” he says, Jax shooting him a look as if to say ‘do what I fucking say’ Chibs, screws his face in stubbornness. “Aye” he reluctantly spits out.

Jax bangs the gavel as the vote comes in as a yes. The other members leaving the room, Chibs staying behind. His eyes fixed on Jax.

“This is the only way we get out of this cartel mess” Jax says, his voice firm, truly believing this is the right move.

Chibs crosses his arms, his gaze still steady. “I really hope you’ve got a plan, Jackie” he says, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in his words.

“They’ll have to do it” Galen speaks down the phone.

“He’ll do anything I need him to” he looks down to the floor, clearly frustrated “I’m getting him out...tomorrow” he says, before hanging up the phone.

“You really think the sons can pull this off?” Connor questions, his voice sounding doubtful, clearly concerned about where their ties land.

Galen looks him up and down, his gaze cold and calculating. “They don’t have much of a choice” he says, “but I don’t trust Jackson, not after what went down with Father Ashby, God bless his soul” he makes the sign of the cross as he continues speaking “I need Clay out, and I need him out, now”. “And when he gets out, what's his plan? You know the Sons aren't taking him back” Connor states, the doubtful tone still evident.

Galen glances towards him, the corners of his mouth tightening at the frequent questioning “Clay’s heading to Ireland, He’s planning to set up his own charter, make his own way” He then goes into his pocket, to grab the burner phone that’s ringing. “Aye” he says, answering the call.

“We’ve got her” the line hangs up.

Jax and the club are still at the clubhouse. Jax sits at the bar, Chibs beside him. A text flashes on his phone from a burner number.

Unknown Number: Meet @ warehouse 13.00 -G

Jax looks up, his eyes sharp. “Galen wants us at the warehouse. Be ready to move” he tells everyone, making sure they're all prepared.

“Aye, but what for Jackie?” Chibs questions, not realising they would be facing Galen again so soon.

“I guess we’re gonna find out” Jax mumbles as he begins to text, not Galen though, you.

Jax: Hey babe. b home later than I thought. wait up 4 me. love u.

The guys ride in one by one, Jax leading the way as always, followed by his VP and then the rest of the crew. The warehouse looks empty, spookily quite in fact. Until the doors groan open. Inside, Galen, Connor and a few more of the Irish stand waiting.

Jax steps forward, entering first. His voice laced with sarcasm. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?” The footsteps of the others following close behind.

Galen offers a distant nod, his smile stiff as usual. “Things have changed Jackson” he says, no trace of regret coming from him.

“Hey, if we’ve got some kind of beef lets throw it on the table” he says, his voice sharp.

Galen looks away, almost amused before responding “Don’t be so sensitive Laddy”

Jax snaps, “Grow some balls, you Irish prick” his tone, still unwavering. The others step closer, sensing something could potentially pop off at any given moment.

Galen pauses for a moment, then steps forward to Jax, the sound of his boots crunching against the gravel. “Alright” he says, “I think you’re arrogant, selfish and explosive...” he begins “...The wreckage you caused in Belfast got a man of God, and my dearest friend killed”

Jax frowns slightly, a confused look spreading across his face “You talkin’ about the priest?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Aye” Galen nods, his voice sounding bitter. “Father Kellan Ashby pulled me off the streets, saved my life” each word dripping with resentment.

Jax smirks, the tension getting thicker. “Gave you the Catholic blessing of the blood...made you Gangsta’ of Christ?” he mocks.

Galen lunges forward, landing a punch directly above Jax’s eyebrow. The whole warehouse erupts into chaos as both sides rush to break them apart.

Jax still smirking as his adrenaline rises shouts “Now we’re making progress!” eager to keep the fight going. The men spill out into the open space in front of the warehouse. The fight continues, both men hitting and being hit, sweat and blood flying with every swing, neither backing down until finally the men watching, pull them apart.

Galen wipes blood from his lip, a twisted smile forming on his face as he looks over to Jax. “Oh, and by the way Jackson…” he says, his voice cold. “…Clay’s getting transported tomorrow. I need you and your club to stop that from happening, and bring him here, to me.” he demands his orders.

Jax laughs, spitting the leftover blood out from his mouth, the confusion spreading across all the faces present. “And why would I do that?” he responds, stunned by Galens audacity.

“Because Jackson...if you don't…” he pulls his phone out, unlocking it calmy before holding it up to show Jax. A woman sitting in a chair, her arms bound and her mouth gagged. The room goes still as Jax works out who the woman in the picture is. “…She dies”. Jax’s expression shifts, the gravity of the situation hitting him.

The air is cold, the darkness surrounds you. Your hands are bound, your mouth gagged as tears trickle down your face, silently sobbing.

Deep down, part of you knew this was always a possibility. Being the lover of the notorious Sons of anarchy president, could you expect any less?

Footsteps approach through the silence, growing closer with each step. Your heart beating in your chest as he comes into view. Sliding into your peripheral vision. His face, now inches from yours. His breath warm against your skin. A sharp calloused finger brushes away your tear. “Cut the shite” he growls, standing tall once again.

“Those tears mean nothing to me” he turns and leans casually against a desk directly across from you. His legs crossed and his arms folded to match.

In a desperate effort, you manage to wriggle the makeshift gag away from your mouth. “what... do you want...from me” you manage to wheeze out, your breathing laboured due to fear.

He stares at you, not a slither of sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t need shite from you” he says, pointing in your face. “It’s your pretty wee lad we’re after”.

"Please, don't hurt me...I'm...I'm pregnant" you practically cry out.

"Well then you better hope, Jackson, does what he's told"...

“You think this is gonna work Jax?” Juice’s voice echoes through the silence. Jax keeps his eyes on the the road, looking through the passenger side window, his jaw clenched. “We don’t have a choice” he wipes a hand across his face. The image of you alone, with the Irish, twists in his gut like a knife. “We stop the van, grab Clay, then hand him over to Galen. It’s that simple” he says, relaying the plan instructed by Connor.

The transportation van was forced off of the road, leaving slight chaos in it’s wake. Juice and Jax were in one van, with Bobby, Tig and Connor trailing close behind in the other. Together, they worked effortlessly, forcing the officers to surrender without much of a fight.

Jax, swinging open the vans back doors to reveal Clay, a slight confused look on his face. Jax takes off his ski mask, a smirk appearing as Clay squints up looking towards Jax, clearly not expecting him. “Where’s the Irish?” he says, realising this isn’t the original plan.

“No Irish” Jax replies, his jaw tense. “Just me”.

The job was done, more or less. The boys had managed to pull it off with only one minor hitch, Bobby had taken a bullet in the process. Jax though, is focused on what matters the most, The trade. Clay needed to be handed over to Galen without delay. Clay, for you.

Jax strides into the warehouse, the club reunited once again. He heads straight for the small office in the back with Chibs and Tig only, the others hanging around behind the door. Inside, Galen stands waiting wearing his usual cocky grin. Jax doesn’t even give him the chance to speak. “You’ll get Clay, when I get y/n” he growls, his voice cold but firm.

Galen smirks, clearly expecting some sort of demand from Jax. He gestures to another Irishman lurking in the corner. The man follows his silent order, slipping out of the room only to return moments later.

He shoves you roughly into the room, you stumble and slam your side into the edge of the cabinet. Jax moves instinctively, about to rush to your side.

“NO!” Galen barks, stopping him from getting any closer. “You’ve seen her, now I want Clay” he spits.

Jax, who’s teeth are snarled, turns around to Tig, giving him a nod. The command clear, go and get Clay. He then looks back to you, sensing the fear rushing through your body. His gaze softens, seeing you in pain, seeing you like this. Your face is bruised, blood smeared across your cheeks. His attention now drawn to how your hands are clutching your stomach protectively.

Tig returns quickly, bringing Clay into the room. The tension is thick as the exchange happens all at one. Clay stepping forward beside Jax, Galen's attention now shifting to him.

You waste no time, you bolt towards Jax, throwing yourself into him. He catches you holding you close, then pulling you away slighting holding onto your shoulders, scanning your entire body for any injuries. “Its okay, y/n” he murmurs, his voice close to a whisper. “I'm so sorry” he says, knowing this is all his fault.

Just behind you, Jax catches Galen's movement. He steps forward, probably about to make some smug comment about the deal, but Jax doesn't wait to find out. “Close your eyes” he whispers into your ear. You barely have time to react as Jax looks over to Chibs and Tig, the three of them exchanging a knowing glance.

Within a second, their guns are drawn. Jax keeps you tightly against him, his free arm acting as a barrier around you as he fires. His bullet lands dead Centre into Galen's forehead, Chibs taking down one Irishman, and Tig dropping the other. The crack of the gunfire makes you scream into Jax’s chest, muffling the sound. Your knees buckle as you drop to the floor. Jax lowering with you, pulling you even closer.

“Jesus christ” Clay mutters, looking around seeing Galen’s lifeless body stretched across the floor. Jax looks over to him. “We had a vote” he says coldly. “This needed to happen” Jax, finally one step closer to cutting ties with the true IRA.

Jax’s eyes catch the way your hand trembles as it moves between your legs. when you pull it away, blood covers your palm. His heart dropping to his stomach as panic flashes across his face. “Shit” he shouts out, looking around the room trying to make sense of the situation.

“Did she get shot?” Tig questions, also trying to work out the cause of the blood. You don't respond right away, staring at your bloodied hands. This was not how you wanted Jax to find out. Your gaze slowly shifting to Jax, the look in your eyes breaking his heart.

“The baby...” you whisper, your voice exhausted

Jaz freezes, along with everybody else in the room. The words replaying in his head. “The... baby?” he echoes, his voice hard to hear.

It’s not anger or frustration but complete shock. However, there's no time for questions. His protective instincts kicking in like a flip of a switch. Jax shouts for Rat, it takes seconds for him to enter. “I need you to take y/n to the hospital NOW!” his tone sharp and commanding.

Rat, looking around the room taking in what has just happened. “What about-” he’s cut short.

“I SAID NOW!” he takes a deep breath, steadying his anger "please, just go now call me when you get there, I’ll catch up”.

You cling to Jax’s kutte as he leans down, cupping your face with both hands. “you’re gonna be fine” he says, his voice steady, even though his heart feels like its ripping apart. He places a kiss to your forehead. “I have to deal with this, but ill be right behind you ok. I promise... I love you” He kisses you again, helping you off the floor and passing you over to Rat.

As Rat leaves with y/n the other members pile into the room. Clay’s eyes follow, a look of resignation spreading across his face. “I guess you had another vote I wasn’t privy to” a short smile plays on his lips, as he realises what's about to happen.

“Yeah, we did” Jax nods his head slowly. “This time it was unanimous” they stare at each other for a while, before Clay finally speaks.

“fair enough” the eye contact lingering on a little longer.

Clay steps back, not fighting it and completely expecting what's to come. He says nothing, just looks at Jax with a hint of understanding. He moves slowly to the other side of the room, bracing himself in the corner. “This good?” he questions, his voice low as he takes one last look at club he used to call family.

“Yeah” Jax says, no feelings in his words what so ever.

Chibs silently steps forward, loading the gun. He hands it to Jax, who takes it with steady hands. Without hesitation he raises the gun, firing one final shot, hitting Clay straight in the neck. Clay falling to his knees, the blood gushing out like a fountain, he's flat on the floor, the life draining from him.

Jax hands the gun back to Chibs. “I’ve got to go” he says, sounding urgent. “You got this?” he asks his VP, making sure that the rest of the plan plays out just as well. Chibs nods, already moving into motion.

As Jax makes his way to his bike, Connor approaches. “Galen still in there?” he asks, completely oblivious to the mayhem behind the doors. Jax’s lips curl into a smile, a darkness forming over him.

“Yeah. He’s not going anywhere” Without waiting for a response, he jumps on his bike, speeding off doing his best to catch up with Rat, y/n and his unborn child.

Jax’s heart pounds through his kutte covered chest, as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. The roar of his bike engine fading as he skids into park. He waste’s no time, pushing through the hospital doors with urgency, the sterile smell hitting him in the face.

His eyes scan through the reception. Rat, sitting nervously in one of the chairs, looks up as Jax approaches, his chest tight with worry.

“Where is she?” he demands to know, the anxiety creeping in.

Rat stands quickly, raising his hand in a calming gesture. “They took her in to check her over” the words rushing out but in a calming manor.

“She's fine, the baby...your baby is fine” he reassures Jax. The weight of those words hit Jax like a wave, for the first time in hours, he allows himself to breath. The tension in his body easing, as he lets out a long shaky breath.

Rat eyes Jax curiously, his expression cautious, not wanting to over step. “How did it go?”

Jax meets his gaze, his voice finally steady. “It’s done”. Rat nods, understanding exactly what Jax is saying, no need for a further explanation.

“The guys probably need you, take my bike, leave the van... and thank you Rat, for getting them here safe” Jax, pats Rat on the back.

Rat looks at Jax, blinking in disbelief. “wait... take your bike?” he repeats the words, unsure if he misheard. “Nobody rides your bike” he adds, still in shock.

A smile curls on Jax’s face, but the warning still stands true. “If you leave a single scratch on it, you’ll be meeting Mr. Mayhem next” he gives Rat a wink, masking the seriousness in his threat.

The gel that the nurse places on your belly is cold, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. Your whole body aches, bruised from the events of earlier today. The relief however, over shadows the pain, you and the baby are fine and that’s all that matters. You try to focus on that, but your mind keeps drifting to Jax, wishing he was here with you.

Just as the thought crosses you mind, the door creaks open. You look up, and there he is, appearing in the doorway.

“Just in time” the sonographer smiles warmly.

“Hey Darlin” Jax murmurs to you, his voice steady with an apologetic look in his eyes. He slides into the chair next to you, leaning over kissing you softly on the lips. He lingers there for a moment longer, grounding himself in the reality that you’re both okay.

“okay, y/n are you ready?” The sonographers voice breaking the silence, her tone gentle as she prepares to scan you. She talks you both through what’s going to happen as she adjusts the machinery. You nod in response as Jax squeezes your hand, his eyes flicking between you, the sonographer and the monitor. His nerves still on edge, unsure of what to expect.

The room falls quiet as the sonographer moves the wand over your belly. The humming from the machine being the only present sound. Your focus shifting to the screen. A tiny unmistakable figure moving ever so slightly. “There’s your baby” she smiles, her presence warm.

“Oh my god” you sigh out, your hand moving to cover your mouth in disbelief. Jax is frozen, his eyes glued to the screen his grip on your hand tightens as it feels like the world has stopped spinning.

“Jax look” you say, looking over at him, admiration in your eyes. Jax is frozen, he blinks hard as his jaw tightens, his mood unreadable.“Jax?” you question, unsure of how he’s feeling.

His rough exterior begins to crack as he leans closer to the screen, his blue eyes shimmering with tears. “Jesus...” he mutters, as he wipes a tear falling down his cheek. He cracks a laugh in disbelief, returning the eye contact now. “That’s our baby” his vulnerable side now showing.

“From the measurements, I’d estimate you’re roughly 12 weeks, at the least” the sonographer speaks gently, her voice breaking into the emotion bubble you're both currently sat in.

“12 weeks” Jax repeats in a whisper, more tears slip down his face as he keeps wiping them away with the back of his hand.

It’s a lot to take in, everything that's happened in the last 48 hours crashing down on him at once. This wasn’t part of the plan, not at all. But as he stares between you and the little baby wriggling on the screen, his heart swells, a new level of protectiveness he has never felt before.

Jax holds the printed scan photo delicatley in one hand, holding you as delicatley around your waist with the other, as you make your way towards the van.

You glance around, noticing something is missing. “No bike?” you ask, confusion creasing your eyebrow.

Jax sighs, a small smirk growing on his lips. “I let Rat ride it back” he says, already regretting his decision

Despite everything thats happened, it’s as if this has shocked you the most. “you what?” you almost shout.

He shrugs, amused by your reaction. “Yeah, well desperate times babe. He knows what will happen if he messes it up” Jax reassures you, whilst trying to also reeassure himself.

You shake your head in disbelief , still trying to process what he’s just told you, as he helps you gently into the van.

The joy of the past hour almost made you forget what had happened earlier. But now, as you sit beside Jax in the van, it all comes rushing back.

The last time you saw him, he wasnt the man gently holding your hand like he is now. He was Jax, the president, Jax the outlaw, pulling the trigger without hesistation. You knew what he was capable of, but seeing it with your own eyes was a different feeling.

Jax notices the small shift in your demeanour and turns to you. “You okay?” he questions.

You nod, your voice on the verge of crying “Just... a lot to... take in” you manage to get out.

He sighs, squeezing your hand. “y/n I am so sorry you had to see that” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you too, but I had no choice” he reassures you, it wasn’t just for fun.

You look at him, his face so calm even though you know the burden he carries is much heavier than he ever lets on.

“I promise you, y/n. I’m getting us out of this” he looks upwards as if trying not to cry “I can’t ever have you, or our baby in a situation like that again… I don’t know what I’d do if…” he tries to catch a breath, you squeeze his hand as an act of comfort.

“I love you Jax, I love all of you, even the club” you breath out a small laugh, wanting him to feel secure. Even though deep down, the thought of your child growing up in this world makes you feel sick to your stomach.

“I love you too y/n, both of you” Jax smiles as he begins driving home, praying that the plan he set in motion, is enough to keep everyone safe.

Photos & gifs do not belong to me. Just edited them together.

Who rewatches scenes to fit them perfectly into their story plot? Yes, it’s me.

Pls pls pls send me some Jax requests, I love writing but when it comes to thinking of something to write, that’s where I go blank!

Jax Teller Masterlist

Also, thank you all so much for your comments & feedback, love u all 🫶🏽

[glowettee]

hi there! i love your content and was wondering if you’ve made or plan to make a “how to romanticize chores”, or something about romanticizing your work, for those of us who are out of school / in the work force? TIA (: <3

ೀhow to romanticize work and choresೀ

hi angel! 🌸 thank you for being so sweet!! i absolutely adore the idea of romanticizing chores and work, especially for those of you who are no longer in school and navigating through the workforce. i think this concept can apply to everyone, no matter where they are in life. we all deserve to find beauty and joy in the little things we do every day.

romanticizing your work or chores isn’t about pretending everything is perfect, it’s about shifting your perspective and finding small, meaningful ways to make your daily tasks feel more special. it’s about creating moments of joy and treating yourself with love and care, even when you’re doing something as simple as folding laundry or answering emails.

first, let’s talk about mindset. one of the biggest lessons i’ve learned (and something i’m sure applies to work life too) is that your attitude matters so much. instead of thinking “ugh, i have to do this,” try reframing it to “i get to do this.” even the most mundane tasks can feel different when you approach them with gratitude. for example, when i’m cleaning my room, i remind myself that i’m creating a cozy, peaceful space for myself. if you’re working, think about how your efforts contribute to your goals, your growth, or even just your ability to support yourself and those you love. it’s not about forcing positivity!! it’s about finding meaning in the little things.

next, let’s make the environment dreamy. i truly believe that aesthetics have the power to transform how we feel about tasks. for chores, light a candle with your favorite scent or play a soft, romantic jazz playlist in the background. for work, create a workspace that feels like a sanctuary. add a vase of fresh flowers, a cute mug for your coffee, or even just organize your desk so it feels inviting. i know it sounds simple, but these little touches can make such a difference in how you feel while you’re working.

another tip is to romanticize the process, not just the outcome. instead of rushing through your tasks, try to slow down and be present. notice the way warm water feels on your hands while washing dishes, or the satisfying sound of typing on your keyboard. i know it might sound silly, but when you focus on the sensory details, even the simplest tasks can feel more meaningful. this is something i practice when i’m studying, i try to enjoy the process of learning, not just the results.

you can also turn chores or work into rituals. for example, if you’re doing laundry, make it a cozy moment by folding clothes while watching your favorite movie or sipping tea. if you’re answering emails, set a timer, put on a calming playlist, and reward yourself with a little treat when you’re done. rituals give structure to your day and make even the most ordinary tasks feel intentional and special.

one thing i’ve learned from my psychology studies is that humans thrive on small rewards. so, give yourself permission to celebrate the little wins. finished a big project at work? treat yourself to your favorite dessert. cleaned the house? take a bubble bath. these rewards don’t have to be extravagant, they just need to remind you that your efforts are worth celebrating.

lastly, remember to romanticize yourself in the process. dress up a little, even if you’re just working from home. wear comfy yet cute clothes while doing chores. play music that makes you feel like the main character of your life. the way you present yourself to the world (and to yourself) can have such a big impact on how you feel.

romanticizing your work or chores isn’t about ignoring the hard parts of life. it’s about finding beauty and joy where you can. it’s about making the most of your daily routines and treating yourself with the love and care you deserve. so, even if you’re scrubbing floors or working on spreadsheets, know that you’re doing amazing, and you deserve to feel good about it.

sending you all the love and dreamy vibes! ✨

xoxo, mindy

quick tips for romanticizing your daily tasks! 🤍

create a morning ritual that feels like self care

invest in pretty organizational tools

make a workspace playlist for different moods

use your favorite scented products while cleaning

treat yourself to cute office supplies

keep fresh flowers or plants nearby

write your to-do lists in a beautiful journal

take mindful breaks with your favorite drink

dress in a way that makes you feel confident

create evening routines that feel peaceful

use soft lighting instead of harsh overheads

organize your space in an aesthetic way

set tiny rewards for completing tasks

document your progress in a pretty way

make your lunch break feel special

use beautiful containers for storage

create seasonal touches in your workspace

keep inspirational quotes nearby

make cleaning feel like a reset ritual

celebrate small wins with little treats

turn mundane tasks into mindfulness moments

add personal touches to your workspace

keep comfort items close by

make your desk feel like a sanctuary

use timers to create focused work periods

quick tips for making chores feel magical! 🤍

- light a vanilla candle while doing dishes

- use pretty cleaning supplies in pastel colors

- create a special cleaning outfit that makes you feel cute

- make a "cleaning day" playlist with dreamy songs

- invest in aesthetic storage solutions

- turn laundry time into a cozy movie moment

- use sweet-scented cleaning products

- take aesthetic photos of your clean space

- reward yourself with a bubble bath after cleaning

- make your cleaning caddy look pinterest-worthy

- pretend you're in a soft, aesthetic montage

- use pretty baskets for organizing

- make your bed like it's a luxury hotel

🌸 love, mindy

[dear-ao3]

Do you have any tips for attending a race weekend in person? Im hoping to do so next year

buy your tickets immediately when they come out. grandstands sell out really really fast. i did months of research on this. not all tracks have great views for gen admission (canada does Not, you can find this all out on reddit) and getting gen admission means usually getting there as soon as track opens to stake out your spot and then waiting there for hours. not everyone wants that.

the cheapest place to buy tickets is from the track itself. get on their email list. i didnt end up getting them from the track because the sold too quickly, i got them from the f1 official website. that website just allows you to pick the grandstand, you get your section and specific seats a week away from the race.

if youre sitting in a grandstand, spend the extra money to make sure that theres a giant screen in front of your seats so you know whats happening in other areas of the track.

when picking tickets, figure out where the action parts of the track are. reddit is good for this. i picked the hairpin because i wanted to make sure i could see the cars and that was a part where they go slow enough where u can see that. also theres good overtaking there. also take into account how far you'll have to walk from the entrances. it gets crowded.

if you get on the track email list thats also where you get info for the pit lane walk. at canada u didnt need to have a ticket to go to the pitlane walk, anyone could sign up for the raffle. it was a lottery system and we got lucky. (can make a different post on pit lane walk)

book your hotel (if needed) as Soon as hotels become available. prices get really jacked up. you can book air bnbs and all that, but i read a lot of people got scammed with them so i didnt. most hotels book 12-14 months in advance, depends on the chain. i booked my hotel Before the tickets. it was non refundable. it was a risk for sure. but i still did it. i also didnt stay in montreal proper because of the expense, if you do that figure out your transportation ahead of time. we were able to reserve parking spaces for each day near public transport for relatively cheap.

dont buy food at the track. its so expensive. you dont need to. everyone around us brought their own food in little coolers and we all ate in the stands. unsure if u can do that at every track but it was allowed here. would recommend. they also had water bottle refilling stations and you were allowed to bring water in, as well as reusable bottles, but check your track regulations. tho what they mostly looked for in security was alcohol and glass.

you do not need to do the track invasion for the podium. we didnt. and i heard form other people it was a disaster. mob situation. claustrophobic. we were still allowed to walk on the track to exit. dont be unsafe.

sunscreen! hats! long pants! comfy shoes! sunglasses! all your friend. i brought a small bag that just had my portable charger, earplugs (cars aren't really that loud but they were still helpful!), and some snacks and water. also electrolyte mix.

unsure if this is a thing everywhere but everyone was really nice and polite. might have just been canada. but. everyone literally Sat in their seats during the race and the qualifying and everything. if there was action happening people would stand. but then sit again. so relatively pleasant. no one was overly mean except that one guy in the train on the way back.

idk lmk if u want more

[slightly-knot-insane]

Cherry Cherry Lady 🍒 (part 1)

[ m!satyr x fem!reader ]

content: sfw with slight hints of femdom

You don't often walk down a countryside dirt road - you are a city girl after all. But you like this one very much. It goes through a forest like a slow river, and you are surrounded by tall trees and singing birds, fresh air, and a healing lack of civilization. Even though it is early summer, it is crisp beneath the thick canopy. How someone can live this far into the forest, apparently all alone, is beyond you.

A few months ago, you heard stories about the best cherries in the area, maybe even further. People would buy tens of kilos of dark red succulent fruit and devour it within the first day. Or they would make some sort of marmalade or sweet, and those would sell like ammunition before a zombie apocalypse. Everybody has heard about Devil's Cherries. And everybody who tasted them loved them.

You tried them for the first time 2 days ago. A single fruit proudly stood on top of the most popular cake, dipped in snow white cream. You ate the whole cake before biting into the cherry. And it was the sweetest, richest, juiciest thing you ever tasted. And you wanted more. A lot more of it.

So you did some research and learned about the cherry farmer living at the end of the dirt road. You equipped yourself with a comfy pair of sneakers, a large backpack, money, a fully charged phone, and started walking.

Just as your legs start to ache from the heat and exertion, you encounter a sign: "CHERRY FARM 2 KM ". You almost jump into a sprint, already tasting the succulent fruit.

Your internet signal isn't the best in this area, of course, but you manage to use the navigation. Right on the spot where you placed your mark, on the side of the dirt road, you encounter a quaint wooden fence. It is handmade, old, but sturdy. On a small board, there is a painted cherry with a smiley face.

The estate seems large, but there are many fruit trees and berry bushes inside, so you can't estimate accurately. The forest surrounds it, and you can hear a stream not too far away. Aside from a few bees and flies, you can't sense anything else.

"Hello?" You are reluctant to enter since a lot of farmers own large dogs for protection. But no barking greets you. "Hello! I'm here to buy some cherries. Is anyone home?"

"Ah!" There is a muffled shout coming from behind some shrubbery. "Hold on, hold on! I'm here!"

While hopping on one leg and pulling his overalls over the other, a young man rushes toward you. His hat almost falls off his head, and he ends up still unbuttoned and shirtless in front of you. Which isn't an unpleasant experience. He is muscular but with a soft belly. Dark curls cover his chest, and his thick happy trail disappears among mismatched buttons. "Sorry, sorry, I was taking a nap and... whoa... had a nice dream..."

You raise your eyebrow. He must've had quite a dream while sleeping in the nude in the sun. Finally, he raises his head. A pair of horizontal irises greet you. He's a satyr.

He was already flushed all over, but now he looks even hotter. With his jaw dropping, he stammers. "You... yer not... I didn't expect..."

He gasps and removes his straw hat to hide his naked torso. You can't help but giggle. "I was trying to call you, but you were out of service."

He sheepishly smiles. "Y-yeah, the signal here is shit — oh sorry, ma'am, I mean, so so bad."

"I figured." After an awkward pause during which you take in his beautiful horns and cute dimples, you continue: "Do you sell Devil's Cherries?"

"Yes, ma'am!" He beams proudly. "The best ones you will sink your teeth into!" His bright smile is radiant. He's such a snack. With a click of his tongue, he suddenly hits his forehead with his fist. "Oh! But ma'am, you walked all the way here. P-please, come in to... um, freshen up."

"That would be so nice, thank you."

You follow him on the stone path leading to his cottage. He is still sheepishly (goatishly?) holding his straw hat over his chest, and seems too shy to start a small talk. Luckily, you don't mind taking the lead. "Your house is wonderful."

And it truly is. It's a single-story cottage, colourful and decorated with various interesting objects, mirrors, crystals, and herbs.

Your host smiles and a tinge of blush colours his pointy ears. "Ah, thank you. I built it myself."

"You live alone?" you ask just outside his door.

"Yes, but I often have company." There is a mysterious smirk on his lips. "Especially during summer. Please, come in."

The interior is just as cozy as you expected, although rather messy. Your host isn't the tidiest person, and he certainly hates minimalism. All his furniture is painted with vibrant colours, his dirty rugs hide interesting shapes, and his walls are covered in art and intricate mosaics. There are many potted plants and herbs on almost every flat surface. And - your nose finally detects them - baskets of cherries.

Somehow, you feel right at home.

"Sorry... It's a bit messy." The satyr scratches the back of his head. "I try to clean, but it always gets dirty the next day." What a silly excuse.

"No worries, I don't mind. It's truly amazing. Who painted all this?" You pull your finger over the tabletop decorated with soft lavender bouquets.

"I did. I... I love painting in winter... when snow falls. I like to remember the summer and spring."

He looks entirely embarrassed and avoids your eyes. But there is something about him that indicates that he enjoys praise. And maybe a little bit of instructions.

"These are so beautiful. You are an incredible artist." His blush covers the entirety of his face. "Now, you mentioned something about refreshments."

"Oh right, sorry!" He drops his hat onto the floor like a klutz he obviously is, and runs off somewhere.

You pick up his straw hat, making sure he doesn't cover himself again. Since he's such eye candy, you prefer him to be as exposed as possible.

"Would you like some water or homemade cherry juice?" he yells from another room.

"Oh, please, I would love to try your juice." You giggle, rather entertained by the phrase you used. By the sound of a loud bang and the dropping of a utensil on the floor, he caught on to the euphemism, too.

He brings in two glasses full of thick liquid so dark red it almost looks black. "I assume you came to buy my cherries?"

"Of course," you reply looking at him from above your glass, drinking in his beautiful tan, stunning eyes, and firm physique of a hard-working country boy. "Why else would I come here?"

You take a sip and get trapped by the rich aroma, tangy, sweet, powerful. It slides down your throat like liquid heaven, with a fresh and potent smell. For once in your life, you're rendered speechless. "I..." The words are failing you. No compliments can reach the level of deliciousness. "This is... incredible... There must be something more in this than cherries!"

"Well..." The satyr smirks. "There is, actually. A special ingredient." He outstretches his callused palm and winks. "I could show it to you, if you would like."

Without even a hint of doubt, still tasting the heavenly drink in your mouth, you place your hand into his, touching his skin as warm as the earth under the summer sun.

[sv5hive]

too little, too late. | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): angst, swearing, lewis is a bit of a dick in this sorry, unhappy ending because i love being miserable 🫶🏻

word count: 1,763

note: thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on my first work a few days ago!! i didn't expect all the love so it is very, very appreciated :) this is a bit long so get comfy! and i also listened to you're losing me by taylor swift while writing so... yeah.

(psst! part 2 is here!)

(masterlist!)

memories from the night you two met flashed through your mind as you stood alone in the dim kitchen. the hangover from the next morning meant most of the night was a blur of shots, flashing lights and sweaty bodies but those deep brown eyes and endearing smile remained sharply in focus.

you stared at the two cold plates of dinner abandoned on the table and a bottle of wine nearing the end.

where had it all gone wrong?

six years.

six years of supporting him through everything.

and you loved being with lewis no matter what. seeing him in his element while racing was just as exciting for you as it was for him. but when would it end? you couldn't keep your life on pause forever.

back in 2017 when you first started dating you discussed a life of peace. a life with a big family and a nice house in england where your children could grow up normally like the both of you did. and you weren't foolish. you would never truly have peace when you were in a relationship with lewis hamilton, the face of formula 1. but you were willing to give up any sense of normality if it meant you could be with the love of your life.

or so you thought.

years passed as you watched all your friends get engaged and married, settle down and start their own families. at every bachelorette party, wedding reception, baby shower, family event you would be asked the same questions.

"when is he going to pop the question? you two have to get married! i bet he's planning to do it soon."

and every time you would have the same response.

"oh we're just taking it slow. he's pretty busy with racing and we both agreed that it wouldn't be fair for him to be away so much."

and you really did believe that at first.

either you didn't notice the stares of pity or you ignored them to convince yourself that everything was ok. it was only when you brought up the idea of finally having kids that you started doubting yourself.

"hey, lew. i've been thinking."

"hmm, yeah? what about." he replied absentmindedly, still searching netflix for a good movie to watch.

you passed him the bowl of popcorn to hold while you got under the blanket.

"i was thinking that we're finally ready to start a family."

he stilled. that was the last thing he thought you would bring up.

"lewis?"

"i want a family too, you know that. but i can't retire without getting that eighth championship. we're almost there. besides, i don't wanna leave you at home with a kid and not be there for every step of the way."

both of you knew at the rate mercedes was going, lewis would need a miracle and a half to win another title against red bull and their rocket ship.

he avoided your eyes and clearly thought that was the end of the matter so you accepted that when he was ready he would tell you. right?

you tossed and turned that night, unable to get the way he brushed off the topic so coldly out of your head. did you imagine it? that flicker of hesitance on his face? a pit of uneasiness settled at the bottom of your stomach as you desperately tried to reason with yourself. no. everything is fine. you had already waited a few years. what was a couple more?

so you tucked away your dreams of a family into the back of your mind for the time being and just enjoyed your relationship with lewis. every date felt like the first and you never wanted your love to end.

"lewis...this is too much!" as you stared in awe at the lone table in the middle of a completely empty restaurant.

rose petals led you two all the way from the entrance to a table with a single rose stood in a vase in the centre as candles flickered softly.

"for you? never."

staring at him in the golden light, you couldn't help but blush at his romantic gesture. he was making up for being away during a triple header and you hated to admit it but you could get used to this.

racing. you smiled at the thought of seeing lewis race. it was like seeing an artist produce a masterpiece every time pencil hit paper. he truly was an incredible sight to see.

you were there for each of his championships since 2017. you witnessed the joy of 2020 and the heartbreak of 2021. you were there, celebrating each win with him and consoling him after each loss, every time. you had fallen in love with the sport you once had no knowledge of just as hard as you had fallen for lewis. you knew how much of a toll each season took on him and you were always going to be there to pick him back up. his world became yours as you met his team and soon enough you were a familiar sight in the mercedes garage.

wasn't seven world championships enough for him?

you would never ask him to give up his career for you. and he would never ask that of you. but after years of waiting for the next step you couldn't help but wonder whether he still wanted that with you.

he was more than an hour late now. both of your schedules had been almost completely full for the past few months and you thought it would be nice to catch up over homemade dinner.

apparently he didn't think the same.

you hadn't bothered calling or texting. he always turned his phone off while at work anyways. as you finished off the last mouthful of wine the jingle of keys and the door unlocking brought you back out of your thoughts.

heavy footsteps trudged through the hallway.

"hey baby, i didn't think you would be up- what's all this?"

"dinner. i've been waiting for two hours now." you turned away from the counter to face him.

"shit. i am so sorry. i just got so caught up at work. we've been trying to improve the car to-"

"-to beat red bull. i know. i know."

"i promise i'll make it up to you. what about dinner next week? at that chinese restaurant you really like?" he walked towards you and went to wrap his arms around you before you pushed him away.

"stop, lewis. just stop. i can't keep doing this." you couldn't look him in the eyes.

a pin drop could be heard as lewis' blood ran cold.

"what?"

the change in atmosphere almost made you wish you had never said anything. almost.

"i can't keep waiting on you, lewis. i'm sorry."

"i said i would make it up to you." the look of pure confusion on his face would be amusing if it weren't for the fact that you were on the verge of tears.

"it's not just about dinner, lewis."

"then what is it about?"

"everything. god, we've been together for eight years and we're not even engaged and nowhere near starting a family. we have nothing to show for it. i knew i would have to wait and i was fine with that but i just can't anymore. this isn't what i imagined for us."

"so what? you're just going to leave? you know how i feel about having kids."

"and i get that, i do. but are you even planning on retiring in the near future? we're not getting any younger and i've been ready for a while now. i just don't think our ideas of our future are the same anymore."

"am i just meant to drop everything for you then? give it all up?"

"fuck, of course not, lewis. i would never ask you to do that. never. but sometimes it feels like you choose your career over me. and i know what it takes to be in formula 1 to win, i know you need to give it your full focus. i just, i need you to choose me for once. choose us."

"no, you don't know what it takes because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this to me right now. in the middle of the season."

you blinked. once. twice. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"are you fucking kidding me, lewis? i'm ending our six year relationship and you're thinking of how it's going to effect your season?"

"yes! fuck, this is my whole life. it always has been and it always will be."

there it is. confirmation from the man himself. you stumbled on your words trying to convey your anger as your blood continuously boiled at his miserable attempt to fix his mess.

"have you ever even thought about how i've felt all these years? giving every excuse in the book to our families and friends about why we haven't taken the next step in our relationship and defending you when they said i was too good for you? you may get to avoid them by going to the races but i don't have that privilege."

your throat was dry at this point as you gasped for air and still, he was stood almost unbothered at the fact you were hopelessly clinging onto the last remaining threads of your relationship, willing him to fight back.

"so that's it? you're not going to stop me?"

tears pooled at your eyes as you realised this was really happening.

"well clearly you've thought this out pretty well."

you didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw the empty bottle of wine at his head.

"you are fucking unbelievable, lewis. i thought this meant something to you but clearly not."

you stormed towards the door and opened it. you paused while silently hoping he would beg you to stay. hoping he would risk everything for you.

but it never came.

you wiped away your tears and tried to at least sound somewhat assertive despite your voice wavering.

"let me know when you're not at home and i'll come get my things."

you slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and walked away from the place and person you had called home for so long.

he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. as he moved to get a beer out of the fridge his gaze fell on the calendar stuck to the front. there was a red heart around today's date with "anniversary!" written in your handwriting.

fuck.

note: yikes. i hope you aren't too sad because of me. any feedback is appreciated!! let me know what else you wanna see :)

[loulou-land]

Tangled Together

Day 5 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Mundane Chores | 1,282 | on ao3

Sunday mornings were slow. Quiet. The kind of easy, unrushed time that Buck never used to know how to sit still for. He had always thought he needed movement and excitement. To be surrounded by people, the people he loved. Otherwise, he felt like he was stuck in place, old doubts and worries creeping in to catch up with him.

That was—until now.

He was in Tommy’s kitchen—their kitchen, if he really thought about it—most of his daily appliances having slowly migrated over, taking up space here and there. 

His favorite coffee beans were in the pantry. 

His KitchenAid sat on the counter because Tommy didn’t own one— (“No, I can’t just whisk it by hand, Tommy.”) 

His pasta maker shone brightly from the other corner—

(“Evan? Tommy said, exasperated. 

“I like to make my pasta from scratch, Tommy. Come on, you’re Italian, you should understand that.” Buck whined. 

“Quarter-Italian,” Tommy had shot back.). 

A shared calendar was stuck to Tommy’s fridge, a selfie of them pinned beside it. 

His phone charger was always plugged into the outlet near the couch and his laptop sat on Tommy’s coffee table, like it belonged there.

It had all happened gradually, almost too naturally to notice. But now, looking around, it was obvious.

His life had settled here.

And Buck didn’t mind—not even a little—how much things had slowed down for him.

Not when it looked like this. Not when it felt so right. 

The coffee pot gurgled its last few drops as Buck refilled his mug. Across the table, Tommy was reading a paper newspaper, holding it open with one hand as he nursed his own coffee with the other. Buck had teased him about it earlier, called him an old man. Tommy had just grumbled (I’ll show you old man) and turned the page, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile.

The room was filled with the soft shuffle of paper. The slow swirl of steam curling up from their mugs. The familiar warmth of their morning quiet.

Then—the buzzer from the dryer machine broke through it.

Buck took another sip of coffee, stretched, and headed toward the dryer.

Just another part of their Sunday routine.

Funny how they even had a Sunday routine.

They didn’t officially live together—not yet, anyway—but they had fallen into patterns, easy habits that pulled them into the same spaces. One of them slept at the other’s place more often than not. Their toothbrushes were permanently stationed in both bathrooms. They had a drawer for each other. Their favorite snacks were stocked in both kitchens. 

And, now, so was their laundry.

Buck reached into the dryer, pulling out warm, freshly cleaned clothes, and—

Stopped.

Because everything was mixed together.

His soft, well-worn T-shirts tangled up with Tommy’s Henleys. His favorite blue hoodie wrapped around Tommy’s favorite gray sweatpants like it belonged there. A pair of Tommy’s socks were stuck inside one of Buck’s shirts, and for some reason, the sight of it hit him like a punch to the chest. Buck inhaled sharply, his heart racing at the realization. 

It was so simple. So domestic. Their lives, their things, their routines—they weren’t just side by side, not just complementary anymore, but completely and utterly blended into one. And the thing was, it hadn’t happened all at once. There had been no grand conversation, no big decision. Just a slow and steady shift. A toothbrush left behind. A hoodie borrowed and never returned. A habit of spending one night that turned into most nights.

And now? Now it was this. 

A pile of laundry that wasn’t just his or Tommy’s, but theirs. Proof that somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, they had stopped keeping track of whose things were whose. Knowing that half the time, Buck reached for Tommy’s hoodies loving how they looked and felt on him. And Tommy loved his comfy sweatpants often lounging in them as he watched his rom-coms.  

Buck exhaled, a slow, shaky breath. He felt warm all over, like the heat from the clothes in his hands had seeped straight into his chest.

He hadn’t even noticed when the shift happened.

When “mine” turned into “ours.”

It was such a small thing, really. Just laundry.

But it didn’t feel small to Buck. 

It felt like everything.

A quiet kind of testament—of the life they had built together, of how easy it had been to let Tommy in. And the more he thought about it, the more Buck was convinced that he never wanted to go back to a time before this, when his laundry was only his.

He was still caught up in the moment when Tommy’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay? Did the dryer eat all your socks?” Tommy asked, dryly. 

Buck startled slightly, looking up to see Tommy leaning against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

He must have looked ridiculous—just standing there, clutching the basket of clothes to his chest. 

Buck let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “No, I—” He hesitated for half a second before saying it, before letting his feelings spill out of him. “…just, our clothes. They’re all mixed up—I like it.” 

For a beat, Tommy just looked at him, his face unreadable, though there was something far deeper in his eyes. Then, he smiled. That small, knowing smile—the kind that said, I get it. 

“Yeah,” Tommy said, softer this time. “Me too.”

He stepped forward, grabbed the laundry basket with one hand, and reached for Buck’s with the other. “How about I help you fold?”

They settled onto the couch, the laundry basket between them. 

Buck folded Tommy’s shirt a little more carefully than necessary, smoothing the fabric out like it meant something. But also—he had a system. A specific way of folding clothes to limit creases and save space.

So he couldn’t help it if his sweet, wonderful boyfriend just didn’t know how to do that.

Anytime Tommy set a folded shirt aside, Buck surreptitiously picked it back up and refolded it properly. He thought he was being subtle.

But—

“Alright.” Tommy sighed, dropping a pair of socks onto the side. “What am I doing wrong?”

Buck froze. “Nothing.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Baby, it’s a little counterproductive if you’re refolding everything I’ve already done.”

Buck winced. “Sorry,” he muttered, a little sheepish. “I just… I have a system. But it’s stupid. Forget it—”

“Hey. No.” Tommy’s voice softened, and he took one of Buck’s hands in his. “Evan, I don’t mind that you have a specific way of doing things. I’d just like to help you.” He squeezed Buck’s hand, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “Can you teach me?”

Buck felt something warm and full expand in his chest.

He thought Tommy would tease him, maybe roll his eyes or get exasperated over his weird laundry hang-ups. Taylor certainly had. He should’ve known better though. 

Tommy had always taken all of him—and understood him, accepted him, loved him.

Buck tugged the strings of Tommy’s hoodie and kissed him, slow and soft. “Okay.”

And so, with patient hands and a bright smile that wouldn’t leave his face, Buck taught Tommy how to fold laundry his way.

Suddenly, this chore didn’t feel like a tedious task anymore. Instead, it felt like proof. Proof of how well they worked together, how they made their happiness together, piece by piece.

By the time they finished, they were curled up on the couch—Buck wearing one of Tommy’s soft hoodies, Tommy in Buck’s comfiest sweatpants—and Buck felt entirely, unmistakably at home.