#hey look a tag for all my thoughts! should've thought of that before making the longest reblog chain in existence!

[barbariccia]

@corpsebrigadier​

right, so - this is a chat @azlykumos​ and i actually started a week or so ago and only picked up last night as we closed out chapter 1 of the psx version of fft, since i’ve had a little while to fully absorb the actual story fully and now know what’s going to happen ahead of time, etc, etc.

so it started with meeting milleuda in the hideout and beating her up and letting her go - to algath’s chagrin, to ramza’s befuddlement, to delita’s quiet and uncertain unease - with my saying something along the lines of “it amazes me that for how important milleuda is in chapter one, despite only being two fights, she is promptly forgotten about by the story.”

neeb contested this, and rightly so - i made the comment when i was getting tired and higher brain functions were switching off; they said that no, she’s not strictly forgotten, because her words get through to delita and are the very initial cracks in delita’s armour which algath then takes full advantage of and worms his way in like the maggot he is. (ba dum tss!) ultimately, we agreed that her role is small, but no less important for it, and left it at that.

until last night, when we met her upon the fovoham plains again and begged for mercy anew - this time without algath yelling in our fucking ears about people being cattle and all that. so: i still think it’s incredible that milleuda, for all intents and purposes, is so important as to directly kickstart delita’s slide into anxiety about his place in the world*, and then after her death really is forgotten about. and why would she be remembered? when we get back to the story proper it’s been a year already since that happened, and there’s way more important and current things happening - delita’s not dead, the princess has been kidnapped, suddenly there’s a fucking plot with the church and all of ivalice and murderstones - why should anyone remember a battlemaiden they encountered all of twice? milleuda’s story is not fft’s story. milleuda and wiegraf’s stories start the same way, yes, but wiegraf survives to take a different path - and he’s remembered because his presence endures. how many people remember the other cadets from your introductory mission? how many battles with the Brigade proper were there? in a story like fft’s, if you do not live to see the next day you are quickly forgotten. and even if you do it’s with a like 30-40% chance of survival imo. them random encounters sure do be encountered!!

*as a side note, i vastly preferred the psx scene on the plains, learning to whistle grass, to the updated fmv. it felt less out of place, more true to the world itself - and the language (oh, Boy, we talked about the language for a long while) was so much more... plain and raw and evocative. delita’s hesitant admission - i’ve felt out of place for a long time - and the mechanics of a game requiring you to click past ramza’s uncomfortable silence to hear him out further - make so much more sense than the wotl’s “something’s been bothering me”. that could be anything. oh, aye, it’s followed up about algath’s ichor so the meaning isn’t entirely lost, but delita being willing to be open at all... it being the last time he’s so viscerally honest - it struck a lot harder than it initially did.

because, really, at the heart of it - milleuda’s story becomes delita’s story. she might have died, but her regrets and her rage and her every mote of being crawls inside delita and doesn’t fester so much as take root and grow slowly. yes, algath’s involvement absolutely cannot be understated - it’s his actions directly that led to, well, a tragedy that shaped the man he ends up being - but it’s milleuda’s words that really strike at the heart of who delita is as a person: an uncertain youth in a place he’s hyperaware of not belonging in, no matter how much his best friend and brother in arms vouches for him. everyone can see it: delita does not look like anyone in the cast, even, with his darker hair and darker skin and his control of emotion that only goes so far and snaps when algath presses too far and gets a broken nose for his troubles. despite being so important, delita is visually set worlds apart... and though the Brigade are too uninformed to know what the beoulves look like (seriously.) and kidnap the wrong girl, the rest of us know at a glance that... he isn’t as the others are. and milleuda, crying out about how the name beoulve marks you as an enemy, that there is no difference between you and her but for the walls you were born in - and algath refuting that every step of the way, calling for her head even as all she wants to do is live - and ultimately, hearing her beg her brother for forgiveness as she dies... delita cannot help but be shaped by her. it is the first and last time we see him be honest, be hurt. we see that change in real time.

so, yes: milleuda dies, and her story with it - we learn in very quick step that her brother was wiegraf and that he won’t forgive us for her death, it’s all very fantastical and sweet, but other than ramza later asking the (long dead) wiegraf what his sister would think of his actions - milleuda is not mentioned again, and the narrative moves on to bigger and better things. but she is not forgotten: even as the Brigade falls apart and is hunted to extinction, even as wiegraf gives himself over to the church and their desires instead of his own - milleuda lingers in delita, still crying for change, still demanding revolution. and what does delita deliver? exactly that. but where milleuda fell, he delivers, until a common arse sits the throne. (the less said about what revolution gave him, personally, the better.)

ultimately there was no true point to the entire chat we had - we meandered onto other topics (particularly translations, and god i find myself wishing every day to marry the psx and the wotl versions so bad, a mixture of high and low language would do so much for it - sorry, truthers, neither official translation is the definitive one for me!) and it was more of an observation that came up as we encountered her for the last time... but i don’t know, i still think it’s worth thinking about, that she’s so unimportant and yet the crux of so much more than she first appears. as fun as it is to lay the blame at algath’s feet, he’s not solely responsible for... everything that happens. just greatly.

also something about milleuda’s hair in her portrait sprite is just so beautiful to me. it doesn’t look like any other hair rendered in the same style. i’m in love with milleuda folles etc etc etc

(not to mention that all of this is entirely separate to what her character with wiegraf must have been like... clever, of the writers, to show them as in cahoots enough that she’d take up his reasoning post-war, but never on the same field together. i would love to know how she became a swordswoman; how much of her thoughts are actually wiegraf’s and vice-versa; who milleuda folles was. bites thru my phone so hard it cracks)

actually, and as a late addition to this post - i just remembered that none of this is direct from ramza, either. this is all hearsay - it’s orran’s accounts from witnesses - whatever delita was willing to tell him, presumably, since there’s no one else left alive that might remember milleuda folles by the time he goes around collecting evidence for his durai papers. and that’s sure something, ain’t it? that delita remembered her enough to speak of her?

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬, 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚

summary; it’s been a long couple of months, and after a particularly rough night, your ex boyfriend finds his way straight back to you.

warnings; no use of y/n, post s4, exes-to-lovers, description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, emotional sex, unprotected vaginal sex, a lil bit of cockwarming

word count; ~5k

a/n; i meant for this to be a quick little hurt/comfort thing but then my mind kind of ran wild and it turned into.. this. but i think i really like how it turned out sooo, y'know.. leave a comment/tag/reblog if you enjoy!

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

You're not entirely certain who you were expecting to find on the other side of your door at two in the morning, and maybe you should've given the possibilities a bit more thought before unlocking the door and swinging it open wide, effectively exposing yourself to whatever may be waiting on the other side — but you don't. And it's with a sleep-slowed brain, a baggy tshirt resting high on your naked thighs, and bare feet that drag lazy across cold floorboards, that you find yourself staring at your ex boyfriend.

Steve Harrington.

He's standing in front of you looking a little nervous, a little lost, and a whole lot like he's just come from some sort of brawl. The sudden brightness of the hallway lights outside of your apartment makes your eyes ache and you're squinting, one hand coming up to block a bit of the light just as your heart drops as you take him in.

His hair is a little longer than when you last saw him, impossible for him to keep from flopping down over his forehead while the ends curl at the nape of his neck, light shining down on the strands and streaking golden through the locks that you'd run your hands through once upon a time. But you're hardly able to process or file away those small changes when your gaze begins frantically to absorb the more important and wildly more alarming details in his appearance.

The light wash of his jeans is covered in splotches of denim slightly darker than the rest where something's been spilled down his leg, streaks of dirt rubbed into the knees like he'd fallen down, and blood — there are crimson drops of it splattered along the fabric at his thigh, likely his, likely from the split lip he's sporting, or perhaps from his bruising nose.. When those red smears crusted beneath his nostrils had been fresh and wet and had clearly dripped down past his chin and onto the collar of his shirt, which also seems to be stained in an array of red-splotched fabric.

“Fuck. Steve, what-” Your voice shakes through the sleepy rasp in your throat, blood roaring in your ears at the familiarity of it all — the scene in front of you sending that achingly familiar trickle of fear and worry and panic all racing down your spine.

“I- Hey, sweetheart.” His own voice cracks a little like his throat's been scraped raw from shouting. He's got his hands tucked away in his back pockets like he might be able to make himself small enough that you won't start yelling, his eyes sad and a little pleading as he gives you a weak smile. He lets out a small hiss of a wince when the motion pulls at the slow drying scab on his lower lip.

“Stevie..” The nickname slips out before you can swallow it down.

You think that you might be in shock, if the adrenaline shooting through your veins is anything to go by. It's making it a little difficult to think clearly as you stumble through the doorway, hands coming into contact with his chest as you brace yourself. Your thumbs find those drops of blood that are still drying into the fabric of his shirt, shaking fingers dragging over the freckles on the side of his throat on their way to his jaw.

You have to fight the instinct to linger on those faded scars encircling his neck, have to fight to push back the memories of the night that things between you had finally fallen apart — when all of Steve's half-truths and secrets and outright lies had finally pushed you to your breaking point. The night of the earthquake. When he'd shown up on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning, just like this, looking like he'd been to hell and back, in search of comfort and someone to patch him up but apparently not looking to give out any explanations for the state he'd come to you in. Not for the marks on his neck, and certainly not for the horrifying chunks of flesh that had been torn from his stomach and sides.

The fear you'd felt that night coils in your gut again. It's the very same fear that you'd endured eight months before the end, when Steve had gone awol for forty-eight hours only to find you the evening of the mall fire. That time, his left eye had been nearly swollen shut, body littered in bruises in varying shades of black and purple. You'd sat with him in the bathtub with your limbs carefully wrapped around him for hours, until the water had gone ice cold, and even after that he'd been glued to your side until morning. You'd both burrowed beneath a pile of blankets despite the summer heat, legs tangled and sweaty bodies clinging to one another. Even though you couldn't begin to understand how the fire could have been the cause of his turmoil, of his injuries, you'd still held him tight, one hand tangled in his damp hair at all times while he'd clutched onto you like you were his lifeline. The hours it had taken for the tremble in his hands to fade had nearly broken your heart.

It's all a little too much, the position that you've suddenly been thrust back into.

“Wh-? What the hell happened?” You question hoarsely.

Why you bother to ask now, you're not entirely sure. You're certainly not expecting him to give you any answers, but as your thumb pushes gently into the swelling softness of his busted lip, the fingers of your opposite hand brushing the hair back from his blood-spattered forehead, Steve sighs.

“It's not.. I was at the bar. Got into a fight.” He admits with another wince as your thumb skates up the bridge of his nose.

“Got into a fight or started a fight?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking slow between his; they're tired and bloodshot, his lashes clumped together like maybe he'd been crying, caramel swirling in the pretty brown depths that you'd been steadfastly avoiding thinking about these last few months.

A huff crackles as he tries to push a sigh from his blood-clogged nose, his hands finally leaving his pockets to hang awkwardly at his sides while he gives a small shrug, “..’was stupid.” He says in lue of a direct answer.

“I'm sure it was,” You grumble under your breath, swallowing your instincts and forcing yourself to take a small step back, your hands falling away so you can hug your arms across your own chest with a sigh, “What're you doing here, Steve?”

“I didn't know where to.. I..” The words don't seem to come and he falters, shrinking in on himself further, “I don't know.” He admits after a moment.

Your eyes close as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you, “I can't-”

“Please,” Steve nearly whispers the word and when you meet his eyes again, his gaze is a little watery, “I know you don't want to see me. I know you're still mad. And.. You have every right to be, okay? But-”

“But what?” You plead weakly, fingers digging a little meanly into your own arms.

“I just..” He struggles for a moment, hands raking through his hair and ruffling it into further disarray, “I just needed.. I..”

The fissure in your heart cracks wide, the slow healing wound tearing open to expose this gaping thing that feels a little like it might be enough to shatter your soul. Even while the more sensible parts of your brain scream at you to shut the door in his face, you find yourself taking his hand in yours, swollen and blood crusted knuckles under your thumb as you pull him into the dark apartment and close the door behind you.

You push him to sit down on the couch, a wordless order for him to stay put implied in the sidelong glance that you shoot him before turning away to move down the hall and grab your first aid kit and a wet cloth from the bathroom. When you return, Steve hasn't moved an inch, just as miserable and small-looking as you'd left him a few moments before. He's got his fingers tucked into the crook of space behind his knees, the tall streetlight across the road allowing stripes of light to cut across his hunched form, late night shadows eating up everything else.

The coffee table is nudged closer to the sofa with your foot as you sit down in front of him, your bare knees brushing filthy denim when you scoot to the edge of the table and bring the cloth up to his blood-spattered cheek. You're gentle with it, wiping at same spots a few times with the lightest pressure you can manage as the mess proceeds to smear, red-tinged streaks of water against his skin lessening with each careful swipe. Once his face is clean, you move on to the knuckles of his right hand, pulling it from where he has it tucked beneath his thigh to softly wash away the crusted blood from his split and bruising skin.

You work silently for a few minutes. The soiled cloth is dropped against the coffee table with a wet slap and you immediately turn to find the alcohol and cotton balls in the messy basket you keep stored beneath your bathroom sink.

You've just begun to open the package of cotton when Steve says your name, nothing more than a hoarse whisper to break the heavy silence.

When you meet his eyes, the desperation you find there has you faltering for a moment. The warmth that seeps into your skin from each point of contact between you suddenly seems so much stronger. Heat and nerves creep up the back of your neck as you blink at him in question.

The backs of his damp knuckles drag up over your calf before pushing into the smooth skin on the outside of your thigh, his thumb pinching lightly at the doughy flesh there, “I.. Can you..” His hand unfurls and he lets his palm settle against you, his fingertips high enough to slip beneath the hem of your oversized shirt and brush the crook where your thigh meets your hip, “I just.. want..”

He seems incapable of finishing his thoughts, but he doesn't really need to because you know. With the way his free hand comes up to push a lock of hair behind your ear, thumb tracing the line of your jaw to your chin before catching against your lower lip in that all too familiar way, you know what it is that he's asking for.

“Steve..” Your accompanying sigh comes out a little shaky as you exhale it over the pad of his finger, your lashes fluttering as something stirs in your gut in response to his soft touch, “I don't think that's a good-”

“Please.” He whispers again — and, how could you possibly deny him when he sounds so pitiful that it wrenches at your broken heart? While his brows are drawing together like he's already bracing himself for your rejection even as his eyes remain soft and pleading?

And when the hand on your thigh pushes up to slide over the bare skin at the base of your spine, when he applies the barest pressure to urge you toward him, when the fingers on your face slip behind your neck — you're climbing into his lap with little encouragement. Your shins push into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, hands finding the hem of his ruined shirt and guiding it up over his head in an easy movement that has his hair flopping down over his forehead again.

When your gaze drops, you allow yourself all of ten seconds to trail your fingers over the rough scars across his abdomen. The skin is a little puckered and pink, mottled in a way that it probably wouldn't be if he'd found himself at the hospital that night in late March instead of on your doorstep, but they've healed. It's a far cry from the jagged wounds that you'd tried to clean with blood-stained hands, through quiet sobs and glassy eyes. They'd been so deep, as if something had tried to carve out little bits and pieces of him over and over, like something had torn into him, like something had feasted on his flesh then and left behind nothing but the evidence of small, frighteningly sharp teeth.

Your choked questions ring in your ears even now, the way you'd begged for him to tell you what was going on, who kept hurting him like this — but as easily as your own voice echos in your memories, so does Steve's. You can still hear his agonized groans and cries of pain as you'd tended to his injuries, can still remember the sound of his desperate pleas for you to drop it, to just accept that he couldn't explain-

And you'd asked him then, if it was that he couldn't or that he wouldn't. The resulting silence from him had been answer enough.

Now, Steve seems to know exactly where your mind has gone and he covers your hands with his own, pressing your palms flat against the lingering marks on his skin.

“They're healed.” You state quietly through the emotion clogging your throat. The obviousness of the statement rings stupidly in your ears but you're not sure what else to say in the heavy silence.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, voice hoarse, “I had a pretty good nurse.. Cleaned me up real nice so that I didn't, I dunno, die from an infection or somethin'.”

A laugh pushes up from your throat that borders on a sob, “She sounds cool.” You manage, your thumbnail scraping lightly into the healed patch of skin under your hand.

“Oh, yeah, the coolest.” Steve tells you with the barest hint of a smile pulling at the unbruised side of his mouth. “You okay?” He asks quietly after another moment of silence.

“Yeah. Yeah, 'm fine.” You tell him with a shake of your head.

“Sweetheart..” Steve starts slowly, “I want.. Shit, I- I want you so bad right now, but if you don't want this-” When his hands move to the hem of your sleep shirt, his eyes meet yours in silent question, and your head is nodding a little wildly in approval before you can begin to think too hard about it.

His hands nearly burn with every brush against your bare skin as you strip one another down to nothing, his touch leaving behind invisible streaks of something heavy and terrifyingly melancholy, something that you're sure will linger painfully in your chest long after he's gone and left you with a broken heart and an ever growing list of unanswered questions.

“I still have to clean your cuts.” You tell him quietly.

Steve's eyes only rake over your naked body for a moment before his gaze settles back on yours, “Okay.”

You settle over his lap again and wet a cotton ball with alcohol, “It's gonna hurt.” You warn in a whisper.

“I know.” Steve returns just as softly.

Bracing one hand on the side of his neck, you dab featherlight over his split lip. Steve's jaw clenches at the sting as it seeps into the cut and you murmur a soft apology while you continue to clean the area with careful fingers.

Steve's hands settle on your hips and his eyes flick between yours as he waits for you to meet his gaze. When you look up from his swollen lower lip, he gulps, adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Is this okay?” He asks, fingers digging into your flesh a little as he pulls your hips until your groins align nicely.

“Yeah.” You murmur, dabbing at the cut on his lip again just so that you have an excuse to look away from his eyes.

Your heartbeat ricochets against your ribs sharply as Steve guides you to grind slow over his lap, the warmth of him wedged between your spread folds. The way he manhandles you isn't rushed, the movement not nearly as desperate as you'd been expecting from his plea for intimacy. It's slow and quiet and filled with a weight that you wouldn't quite be able to explain if you tried.

It doesn't take long for his cock fatten up and grow stiff underneath you, his length and the patch of hair surrounding it both streaked with slick where your wet cunt has been dragging back and forth. You're both breathing a little heavy as you finish cleaning the cuts on his lip and the bridge of his nose, your faces close though neither one of you make any move to close the distance.

Steve curls an arm around the back of your thigh as he reaches around to guide himself toward your entrance. A breathy sound falls from your lips when you roll your hips back and feel his tip catch, just barely pushing in. He's as thick and warm and perfect as he's always been, and that hunger to have all of him spreads down the back of your tongue like warm honey, but the moment you spread your thighs a little farther to take more, Steve is stopping you.

“Wait, wait, wait. You.. Are you sure you're okay with this?” He asks suddenly. His fingers are digging into your hips, holding you in place to keep you from sinking farther down onto him as he awaits your response.

“Wh-?” Your jaw trembles with something like petulance, a little desperate yourself now that you can feel the fat head of his cock inside you, stretching you wide despite barely breaching your entrance, “You said that you-”

“I do. Fuck, I do, I just want to make sure you're sure.” He says it so soft, so earnest, and his concern has you feeling something resembling whiplash. The two of you haven't spoken in months, but he'd shown up at your front door in the middle of the night and practically begged for you; for your presence and your care and your body.

You want to feel angry with him. For looking out for your well-being now, for being Steve, for bringing up so many feelings that you'd tried so hard to bury, but he's looking up at you with imploring eyes — a gaze that says if you climbed off of his lap now, he wouldn't be upset with you, if anything, he'd be upset with himself and..

It has you reeling a little bit, that blooming affection crawling like rapidly expanding ivy inside your chest.

You brush that stubborn chunk of hair back and off of his forehead again, your fingers combing through to the back of his head until they can toy with the bits curling at the nape of his neck. Your mouth finds its way to the space between his brows, a shaky exhale masked by the kiss you press to his skin before dropping your foreheads together.

“I am. I'm sure.” You promise in a whisper.

When you sink down, both of you groan in synchrony, breathy and guttural. The stretch hurts more than you were expecting, but it's been months since you've done this, so you suppose that the sting from him filling you up is warranted. Your hips settle against his and his arms curl around your back to hold you in place, to hold you close. His chest is flush to yours, scattered hairs on his pecs pressed to your breasts, the tip of your nose still barely avoiding brushing against the bruised bridge of his own.

The sensation of being so full leaves you feeling a little overwhelmed, the intimacy of the moment suddenly too heavy. His breath mingling with your own and his soft hair tangled up around your fingers brings pinpricks of heat to your eyes that you stubbornly attempt to blink back.

“Hey.. Hey, honey,” Steve murmurs softly, one hand coming up to swipe a thumb along your watery lashline, “What's wrong? You okay? You hurting?”

Another strangled sounding scoff of a laugh tumbles from your lips, a weak sniffle as your fingers find their way to those smooth, faded lines along the front of his throat again, “I should be asking you that. You're the one who's had the shit beaten out of him tonight.”

“I'm fine. Two weeks n' I'll be good as new,” Steve assures you with carefully crafted nonchalance, his tear-stained thumb dragging back and forth along the apple of your cheek, “Now what's goin' on in that beautiful head of yours, huh?”

“I just..” You huff out a sigh, rolling your hips experimentally to test the ache between your thighs, “I missed you. Fuck, I- I miss you so much, Steve.”

A few tears do manage to break through then, something about the way the patchy light coming in through the windows casts a glow over his battered face, the browns in his eyes shining golden in the dark.

“Me too, I miss you too,” He rasps desperately, “Shit, honey. If you think I don't miss you every goddamn second- You're everything. You're my everything.”

He's holding your face in both hands now, palms cradling your jaw so gently, arms trembling like he's trying to fight the urge to hold onto you tighter. His restraint and his words twist sharply in your gut, something akin to dread weaving its way inside of you.

“I'm scared,” You admit, voice quiet and buried beneath tears, “I'm so scared-”

“Scared?” Steve repeats, concern flashing in his eyes, “What're you afraid of?”

“Losing you.” You gasp.

“Sweetheart-”

Your chest is heaving a little with the labored breaths beginning to tumble past your lips, “I'm gonna lose you all over again, because I can't.. It- It is terrifying. To see you hurt and bleeding and not know why. To worry that the next time might be even worse than the last and have you keep skirting around the truth or outright lying-”

“Hey, hey. Honey, hey,” Steve gives your cheeks a soft shake under his hands and your gaze falls back to his, “I'm sorry-”

“Jesus christ.” You bemoan quietly as another tear falls, halfheartedly pushing at his arms to dislodge his hands.

“No, no, I mean it,” Steve pleads softly, “I'm so sorry I kept you in the dark, I just- Shit, it's so complicated, I-”

“Asshole.” The interruption comes out a grumble under your breath, and you're gearing up to climb off of his lap entirely when his weak chuckle meets your ears.

“I am,” He nods, brushing your hair back from your tear streaked face, “I'm an asshole and I'm sorry. I- I'll tell you everything, alright? I will. I will.”

“Promise?” You hate yourself for how small you sound, how unsure and broken.

“I promise.”

You crane your neck and tilt your head to brush your lips featherlight over his, carefully avoiding putting any pressure on the mess of purple and black and red along the bridge of his nose, your thumbs gravitating yet again to drag over those smooth, barely visible scars around his neck.

“Does your mouth hurt too much, or can I-?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking between his.

“'course you can,” His hand pushes into your hair behind your ear, cupping your head to guide you forward carefully, “C'mere.”

Your mouths come together with all of the gentleness you can manage and you leave one soft peck, then two, then three. You begin to work your hips over his all the while, and neither of you can hold back a keening noise of pleasure at the slow drag of his cock inside your warm walls.

You ease back from his mouth to drag the pads of your index and middle finger lightly over the bruises coloring his skin.

“Did.. Did you really get into a bar fight?” You can't help but ask, even as you're lifting up and dropping back down hard enough to have you both letting out a breathy whimper.

“Yeah,” Steve nods, his fingers trailing along your ribs and stomach like he's trying to re-familiarize himself with every inch of your skin, “I.. It's possible I have some unresolved anger or something from- After everything that happened. Sometimes it kinda takes over, like tonight, and then I pick a fight I know I can't win, but.. 'm not lying to you anymore. I mean that.”

You nod and his arms curl around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Trapped in his embrace, you can't do much more than grind on him with slow swivels of your hips, the head of his cock rubbing at that spot on your inner wall that has your brows pulling together in pleasure.

He's so close like this. His chest hair drags against your bare breasts and your tummies are pressed together and the sweat on his forehead mingles with your own. You feel warm — in the physical sense, yes, but also in your stomach, in your bones, in your heart.

“I love you.” Steve says with emotion, like he's feels that warmth too.

Your eyes prickle a little traitorously, fingers toying with the soft ends of his hair, “I love you,” You manage in a choked gasp, “I love you.”

“Ho- Shit..” Steve groans, chin tipping up toward the ceiling for a moment as he throws his head back, “You feel so fuckin' good, honey.”

“Y'r cock feels good,” You pant in response, “So good. So big. I- Fuck.”

“So tight,” He mutters, sitting up a little straighter to meet every roll of your hips, “So perfect. 's like you were fucking made for me, you know that? Take me so well. You were made for this, for me-”

The way that your clit is rubbing against the thatch of hair on his pelvis has you a little dumb already, and his lust-fueled rambling only intensifies your budding orgasm, both of your thighs slick with how fucking good it feels to have him inside of you again. You nod in agreement to his words and manage to give a small whimper, but it seems that he's not done yet.

“-Missed this so much. Missed you, missed this.. Fuck. Honey, I love you. I love you. I-”

“Steve,” You whine, “Love you too.”

His tanned cheeks have gone a little pink beneath the dusting of bruises on his face, breathy groans fanning out past his busted lip. The pretty little noises of pleasure that he can't seem to hold back have you reeling, your gut twisting with heat at the sight of him, the sound of him.

“So goddamn wet for me, honey,” Steve grumbles, his voice catching in a way that has your cunt clenching down on him, “Listen to her. You hear that?”

You do. There's a lewd squelch emitting from the place where you're joined, the sound filling the otherwise quiet apartment every time that your hips roll at just the right angle. It happens again just then, his cock stretching your hole wide enough for the drag of slick and air to create a mildly embarrassing noise that has Steve giving another needy groan, his hips bucking up into yours.

“God, fuck, please tell me you're getting close,” He nearly whimpers, lifting up off of the couch to drive up into you again, “Please, I'm getting so close, babe. Need you to come.”

Euphoria licks up your spine in a white-hot flame, your weight bearing down that much harder to apply more pressure on your puffy clit. Sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing beneath Steve's forearms where they're looped tight around you.

“Mhm,” You hum, the sound catching in the back of your throat, “M'gonna come, Stevie. Y'r gonna make me come.”

Your hips roll a little faster and Steve continues to buck up into you, his cock pressing so, so nicely against the spot that has your brain whiting out a bit at the edges.

“Come on, sweet girl. Come for me,” Steve moans, warm breath fanning out over your lips, “Please, honey. Please come on my cock. Shit, I need it. Need you t' come, please.”

“I am, I am, I am,” You babble desperately, “M'gonna, fuck, fuck, 'm-”

The knot of pleasure in your gut twists sharply and you cry out, face burying in his neck with a whiny gasp as your orgasm crashes over you. Your cunt tightens and trembles around him and a deliciously choked sounding moan tears past Steve's lips as he finally lets his own release wash over him.

The warmth of his come coating your insides has you fluttering around him further, your hands grappling restlessly for any part of him to hold on to, his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders, his biceps. Breathy little whines and gasps and groans tumble from both of you as you ride it out, the trembling tenseness in your muscles releasing all at once as you go limp in his arms.

It takes a minute, but you eventually come back to yourself a little, peppering a delicate kiss to that infuriating strip of scar tissue along his throat before you're pushing up with weak limbs to look at the man underneath you.

“Hey.” It comes out in a murmur, a breathless little thing that leaves you feeling kind of silly, but your brain hasn't yet recovered enough to work at its full-capacity.

Steve only grins, his lips curling to reveal perfect teeth, a pretty smile pulling at his busted and bruising lips. His eyes twinkle in the patchy darkness of your living room, a pretty mosaic of brown and gold and speckles of green catching in the light and forcing your heart rate to tick up in adoration.

“Hey, honey.” He returns sweetly, one arm uplooping from around your spine so he can reach up to push the sweaty flyaways back from your face.

You can't help but shift over him, sore legs flexing where they're spread over his hairy thighs, a trickle of warmth leaking out from where you're still joined and dripping down into the thick hair at the base of his cock. It feels dirty and intimate in the best way — his come mingled with your own, your fingers in his sweat-dampened hair, his wide palms rubbing softly from your hips to your spine and then back again.

“I kinda want to stay like this forever.”

Your whispered admission has his eyes crinkling softly and he drops his forehead to your chest, his breath fanning out over your breasts as he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“You won't hear any complaints from me.” Steve mumbles into your skin.

You never want to leave this moment. Your nose pushes into his hair and you pull in the familiar melding of scents, of expensive shampoo and hairspray and an underlying smell that's just Steve. You want to stay right here, in this perfectly imperfect bubble, but you feel Steve wince when he burrows his face into your chest just a little too hard and the serenity cracks.

“Steve?” You murmur softly, fingertips scraping gently against his scalp despite the nerves in your stomach.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You steel yourself with a deep breath, “You know I'd do anything to protect you, right? You.. You know that I'll do anything for you.. Know that.. That you can trust me?” It comes out in a rush, and your nerves increase tenfold when Steve pulls back to look at you, “..Right?”

“Honey,” The endearment comes out laced with something sweet and sticky that makes it sound an awful lot like an apology, “Of course I do.”

His eyes are so soft as they flick between your own, his hands smoothing up the length of your spine in a soothing drag of skin on skin. One hand leaves his hair only so that you can trace your thumb over those two wide freckles on the apple of his cheek, a self-deprecating sort of smile pulling at your lips.

“And.. And you're gonna tell me what's been going on with you?” You nearly whisper.

His mouth finds yours to press a featherlight kiss to your lips, “Yeah, honey. No more secrets. No more lies.”

“Promise?” You ask again, lips pulling into a smile where they're still brushing his own. Your faces are so close it's hard to focus on the way his eyes shine with adoration when he looks up at you, the bruises on the bridge of his nose blurring in the darkness.

“Promise.”

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm always over the moon (Lando Norris)

A look into your and Lando's little life moments

Note: english is not my first language. It's fluffy, so you know I pratically melted (and am now feeling single in about seventeen different levels)✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions accident drop of a glass and possibility of injury

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Today's training session was particularly hard, Jon having Lando run a considerable amount of kilometres more than the usual distance followed by a weights session. By the time he was finished his cryotherapy session, he was more than ready to go home and snuggle up to you in the sofa.

Setting his keys on the little bowl by the door, Lando left his shoes on the coat cabinet by the door before walking to the ensuite bathroom where he heard noise from.

"I'm home, baby", he said, crossing the corner and resting his body on the side of the door, watching you rub product on your face.

"Hey, Lan", you smiled at him through the mirror, putting the lid on the pot you were using and storing it away.

Approaching him, you laced your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the curls ay the nape of his neck, "how was your session?", you wondered before kissing his lips.

"It was a killer, Jon set out to push me to the limit today", he hummed, hands finding your waist and holding your body close to his, "and you?", he checked.

"I worked all day, finally finished the prototypes for the next Quadrant campaign, then I worked out and I was just finishing my shower when you arrived", you added.

"I should've come home earlier, I could have joined you in there", he smirked, lowering his head to your neck and kissing the skin softly, earning your giggles as you squirmed.

"You're tickling me", you smiled, curling yourself closer against him, "but it's alright, baby, we'll do it another time".

When you separated yourself from his slightly, Lando noticed what you were wearing, "ugh, baby, I don't know what would be better, getting home when you were in the shower or this", he complimented.

"What do you mean?", you scrunched your eyebrows, looking down at your outfit. Because you had moisturised your whole body, from head to toe, after your workout, you decided to put on your tiny pyjamas shorts and one of Lando's t-shirts, the bottom piece fitting your thighs loosely while his t-shirt fit snug on your hips and chest, the fabric leaving little to the imagination. Even though he knew everything it kept away, he loved the way your curvilinear body looked in his t-shirt.

"I love it when you wear my clothes, they look so good on you, too god even", he nibbled on your ear lobe, hands tapping your thighs so you knew to jump and wrap your legs around his waist.

"I thought you were too tired, baby", you brushed the curls away from his eyes, "I am, but that doesn't mean I won't spend the evening glued to you", he winked, carrying you to the sofa in the living room, laying you both down and wrapping you both in a blanket.

"Can't have you feeling cold, baby", he mumbled, fixing the blanket before his hand travelled under the t-shirt and settled on your tummy, making you hum in content, "I love you, baby", you cooed.

.

"Alright, let's get to work!", Lando clapped after setting the last box on the living room floor.

When you moved all of the things you wanted to Monaco, Lando insisted you should bring your favourite books, reasoning that the apartment should also have some of your things instead of just his helmets for decoration. So, three boxes were shipped with your favourite book collections and stand alones and, you and Lando took the afternoon to organise them.

"I get this can be boring for you, Lan, I can do it myself if you want to go stream or just game", you added, kissing his cheek lovingly.

"Absolutely not, baby, I want to help you! So, how do you want this?", he asked as he looked at what was in the boxes, "do you want to do this by colour? Genre? Date? The ones you've read and the ones you haven't read yet", he suggested.

"We can go a bit with the colour schemes you already have with the helmets", you tried, looking over at the colour palette the books made up.

Wiping the shelves one last time, you sat on the floor and handed the books over to your boyfriend, guiding him through the order and way you wanted to display them.

"Oh, I remember this one - I read it to you the first time I spent the night at your place! You didn't want to seem weird and admit you needed to read a little before going to bed and thought you could go without it for one night!", he smiled at the memory, "Little did you know that it was another one of the things that attracted me to you and I was more than happy to read to you", he winked, leaving you flustered as you handed him the next book, "very smooth, Mr. Norris", you blushed.

"I like to keep you on your toes", he chuckled, "next, there's room for that big collection there", he pointed to the eight books that shared the same design, "might be a tight squeeze, but I think it's fine", he muttered as you handed him the books.

By the time you finished, the living room looked like a good mixture of you and Lando. The books added a pop of colour and softer tone along with the new picture frames you scattered.

"It looks great", Lando said, pulling you closer to him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "our home is coming together nicely", he kissed the side of your head.

.

"They can spend the day, of course I don't mind", you smiled as you out the cutlery away in the drawer.

"It's your home too, baby, just wanted to make sure you're fine with it", Lando reasoned as he wiped the counter.

It was still weird to refer to the apartment as your home, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Closing the door and moving to the cups drying on the counter, you grabbed a tea towell and started drying them before setting them in the cupboard.

"I'll make sure to not make too much noise, or I can go and work at the café down the street, it's - shoot!", you cursed as the glass slipped from your hold, falling on the floor and shattering into little pieces.

"Careful, darling, you might hurt yourself more", Lando urged, stretching his arms and helping you stand where there were no glass shards.

"I'm sorry, I thought the towell wasn't that slippery", you said as Lando scanned your hands for any cuts or injuries, moving to your feet and ankles.

"It's okay, baby, I don't care about the glass, I care about you", he kissed your fingers, "there's a little graze here", he pointed to the small nick on your skin, "go wash it off while gather these", he kissed your cheek and looked for the broom.

Making sure he had sweeped all of it and then passing the vacuum cleaner just to make sure, Lando finished putting the glasses away as you stood by the door, "it's fine,Y/N, we'll go to IKEA and get a new one", he conforted, "now, are we ready for bed?", he wondered as he held your hand as you walked to the bedroom.

.

"My shoulders are killing me, I think I slept funny", you mumbled, trying to find a good position against the office chair, Lando's look questioning your movements.

"Are you in pain? You should've said something", he tutted, hands coming to rub the muscles along your shoulders and neck as Ria went over the latest filming plans.

"Y/N, are you okay, girl?", Ria asked, concerned at the faces you were pulling, "are you sure he's helping you rather than making it worse?", she teased.

"Hey!", Lando yelled, "I'm trying to be a great boyfriend, making sure she's feeling well and taken care of! I think that's jealousy", he smirked, poking his tongue out at her.

"It's feeling good, handsome, especially right there", you groaned, earning a whistle from Max.

"If you guys need a room, I'm sure they can find something relatively kept away!", he laughed, luckily missing the pillow your boyfriend threw at him, "no need to resort to violence, guys!".

"Bring that pillow over here, please, I actually need it", you asked him, taking it from his hands as he quickly walked away, "what, are you afraid I was going to make you trip?", you giggled.

"I don't know, the two of you are never up to any good!", Max raised his hands in defense as Lando kissed your forehead, "He's just jealous because we're a great team and P isn't here with him".

.

Weekends with no racing and no plans quickly became your favourite because you were able to spend as much time as you possibly could with Lando, the triple header ahead of you already promising to make spending time just with him on your own a bit difficult.

When Lando woke up like clockwork, he stretched his neck just enough to watch you sleep cuddled up to his side, your hand grabbing a handful of the sheets that were keeping you warm as you peacefully slept, and knowing how much Quadrant had kept you up late that past week, he thought it would be nice to let you sleep for a bit longer.

Carefully getting up to not wake you up, Lando kissed your cheek soflty and made his side of the bed, tucking the sheets around your body as he lightly kissed your head one last time before he went to the ensuite to change into his workout clothes.

Heading to the kitchen, Lando filled his water bottle and grabbed a pre-workout snack to take to the home gym. Looking at the equipment in the room and the cardio indications Jon had sent him, he decided that he was going on the bike, figuring that, even though the sound isolation was pretty good, it would be the least likely to make too much noise to the point of waking you up, following up with some weights and then stretching.

He was all sweaty when he walked back into the bedroom, ready to have a shower when he heard the sheets ruffling, "hey, baby, good morning", he smiled, "you can go back to sleep, I just need to take a shower, I'm sorry I woke you up", he pouted.

"Morning", you yawned, "I'm going to shower with you", you smiled sleepily, getting up and joining him in the ensuite.

Leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor, Lando got the shower started, making sure the water was warm as you both liked before stepping in with you, letting the water wash away before you grabbed your shower gel, lathering it on Lando's hands and then on yours as you both helped the other wash off, stealing kissing and caresses along the way.

When you got back to the bedroom and dressed in lounge wear clothes, you were ready to have breakfast, finding the overnight oats in the kitchen, "I don't mind if you want to eat something else", Lando offered.

"These are good, I don't mind it", you said, "but I am going to make my latte because my brain can't go without the caffeine", you scrunched up your nose, earning his giggles as you turned on the coffee machine.

"Can I have a little sip, please?", Lando asked once you frothed up the milk, "of course, here baby", you encouraged, bringing the mug up to his lips and having your hand form a shell under it just in case it spilled.

Lando was left with a little foam moustache, earning a giggle from you as you kissed him, "my little frothy man", you cupped his cheek before kissing him properly, "I love you, Y/N", he whispered, pulling you into his embrace.

.

"You pick the movie, I have to go pee", you said to your boyfriend, letting him walk inside the living room as you continued down the hall to the bathroom.

For tonight's plan, you and Lando decided to stay in and cook together, wanting to enjoy the small task without rushing or heating up something from his meal plan, still making something healthy and approved by his team.

When you got back to the living room,

Lando had his Spotify app on the TV, a slow song you recognised from his brother's wedding playlist ready to play, "would you do me the honour of joining me in this dance?", he asked, kissing your knuckles before looking up at you, eyes sparkly as you replied, "yes, I will", you smiled, allowing him to push you flush to his chest, slowdancing in the living room once he started the song, your head in his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Everyday I thank my lucky starts that we met, that I was bold enough to ask you out and that you've stayed with me all of these years", he broke the silence as he unattached his lips from your temple, "and I never want to loose this, little touches, giggles, wins and losses, all of it", he smiled.

"You're the best thing that has happened to me, Lando", you cupped his face in your hands, thumbs brushing his cheeks as he smiled, "I can only hope you feel as happy as I do when I'm with you".

"Darling, with you, I'm always over the moon", he giggled, kissing your lips softly as he stumbled you two into the sofa, roaming hands and tongues battling eachother as a night of love and passion unfolded.

[costkappen]

Best boy《CLxReader》

Tags....☆smut,blow job, sub!Charles, Dom!reader, no use of y/n,fluff,charles is insecure,reassuring

Warnings....☆smut!mdni, a bit of sad!Charles but nothing too sad or angsty

Word count....☆1795

A bit of a warning, this is my first time writing so it not the best,also please correct me if you find any spelling mistakes as I didn't proof read this,anyways enjoy I hope I did good!

He looked so pretty high up on the podium, his smiling face half covered by the shining Australian sun making his pretty blue eyes shine like I've never seen before.

After the podium celebrations I went after him and pulled him in the tightest hug ever

"Congratulations Charles! P2 and double ferrari podium, I'm so proud of you" his face lit up at my praise, something I've picked up since I first met him, he gloats over the littlest praise aimed towards him, even if it wasn't said to him directly, he has a habit of kicking himself down way more that necessary when the smallest thing goes wrong, even if it wasn't his fault he always finds a way to beat himself up over it, so over the years I've made a mental note to sower him with praises as much as I can. "Thank you chéri, I'm also really happy with the team today, let's go to my drivers room I'll take a quick shower and then we'll go back to the hotel"

The drive to the hotel was fairly silent, I didn't say anything to him but I saw how his lips twitched and how his grip on the steering wheel was so tight the tips of his fingers turned white. Yes he was happy about his podium, but there was something he was not telling me so I made it my personal mission to find out what was bothering him so much on a day that was supposed to make him feel like he was on cloud 9.

Once we arrived to the hotel the first thing I did was change into something more comfortable and then I went looking for him, "Hey baby" I said as I sat down on his lap on the couch "How are you feeling? You must be so happy, we have to celebrate with Carlos and Rebecca tonight you boys did such a good job"

The praise made him smile, still he didn't look like his usual self "Yeah I'm really happy Chéri, I think the team needed this win, I can't wait to celebrate with you all" then he gives me a quick kiss on the lips and looks at me without saying anything else

" Alright then if you're so happy then why are you acting like that?" "Acting like what?" He says with a nervous giggle as to make me think I'm just over thinking it. "Like you're about to cry Charlie, don't lie to me I know you too well." He then brings his hand to gently stroke my cheek, as if I was the one that needed comforting right now, "I really can't hide anything from you Chéri?" He let's out a sigh,his whole body deflating "I'm happy for Carlos, I really am, it's just that I can't stop thinking how it should've been me on the first step, not because I don't think that Carlos deserves it but because I've got the whole ferrari team and the tifosi rooting for me, and everytime I get second place instead of winning I feel like I'm letting down everyone, especially you" well I surely wasn't expecting that, yes I knew he had some troubles in believing himself, but I didn't know just how little he thought of himself, "Charlie I can promise you're not letting anyone down,and especially not me! Do you not know how proud I am of you? The redbull is been a monster of a car and so far you've been the only one to get as close to it as second place, everyone at the motorhome can tell you that, everyone is so proud of you even when you don't win we know that you could do so much more if we had a better car and if redbull didn't have a rocketship instead of a car,no one is upset with you Charlie" his lips were quivering and his pretty blue eyes were shiny and looked like they were ready to burst with tears, but I couldn't let my pretty boy cry on a day like this, not when he was supposed to be celebrating and happy with his amazing results, "Alright Charlie how about I show you just how much i am proud of you?"

I take his hand making him stand up from the couch "Where are we going Chéri?" He asks confused as ever "to the bed baby, I'll show you what good boys like you get when they've been so good" and as I make him get on the bed I get a good look at his flushed face, cheeks red and a little shy smile,

"I'll start slow okay?" He nods eagerly his head and I chuckle at his shyness, I start by prepping kisses all over his handsome face and I stop at his lips to give him a more passionate kiss occasionally sliding my tongue on his bottom lip, stroking his arms with my hand I could feel goosebumps forming, as I made my way to his neck I made sure that my kissed lingered a bit longer as to leave pink patches all over his neck, light enough to show but not too harsh so they would be gone the next day, as much as I wanted to leave purple marks all over him I knew pr would kill him if he showed up in public covered in hickeys, so just this once I'll refrain myself.

I could feel him shiver under me as I got to unbuttoning his shirt and I kissed all over his chest "Chéri please..don't tease me like this" he pleaded looking at me with his puppy eyes "What do you want me to do Charlie? I'll do anything you want as long as you ask me nicely " I was being a bit mean to him but I knew that he loved it when I took charge and teased him, "Please just touch me..anywhere I just want to feel your touch" his words make me melt, and how could I say no to him when he was begging so prettily "What a good boy you are Charles, asking me so nicely, don't worry I'll make you feel so good" He shivers as my hand gets lower, working on his pants to get them off, I slide them down along with his underwear as he raises his hips to help me get his pant off of him, I look back up staring at his pretty leaking dick, he wasn't the biggest but he still had the prettiest dick I've ever seen, clean and neatly groomed, I started tracing the veins that run across his shaft, that pulled a whimper out of him so I started using my tongue savoring his flavor on my tastbuds as I moved to his tip, clear beads of precum already leaking out "your dick is so pretty cha, so sensitive for me.." I look up at him smiling and circling my tongue around his tip "p-pleas chérie..take me in your mouth no more teasing" his pleas and the way he looked at me while he was making me go crazy, he just looked so good, still maintaining eye contact I took him as deep down my throat as I could go, seeing his face contorted from the pleasure gave me more confidence so I relaxed my throat and stopped when my nose hit his lower stomach, he tasted heavenly and I could hear his whimpers and soft moans, I bobbed my head up and down using my hand to stoke him at his base where I could not reach with my mouth, and he looked completely gone, eyes rolling back, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white and he let out the prettiest moans, but his breath was staring to hiccup and he started squirming against the sheet so I knew he was getting close "what is it cha? Getting close my sweet boy?" I cooed at him getting my mouth back on him as soon as I stopped talking "mhh- Chéri please don't stop i-" He gasped and as I looked at him I saw his eyes roll back, he was completely blissed out "what is it pretty boy, Can't talk anymore? Am I making you feel so good your brain can't form words?" His breath hitched and he let out a shaky moan, this time I decided to not make him beg me to let him cut, he had been so good and he deserved it, so I started focusing on his tip, circling it with my tongue and sucking it harshly while my hand stroked him up and down as the other held him at his base,I was so focused on getting him to his sweet and deserved release I almost didn't hear him warning me that he was about to cum, "look at me Charlie,I want to see your pretty face as you cum down my throat like a good boy,just like that cha let it go for me" my words pushed him off the edge and he gripped my hair slightly pushing my head down on him, I got the hint so I took him as deep as a could and he heal me there, his loud moans filled the room, at this point I knew that whoever was staying in the room next to us hear him but I couldn't care less, I just wanted him to feel good, as i looked at his fucked out expression I felt his sweet cum filling my mouth, his mouth hanged low as he let out one final loud moan and fell back on the pillows, I slowly pulled him out of my mouth, took his face in my hands and made him look at me as I swallowed his cum, and he smashed his mouth on mine, sliding his tongue inside my mouth passionately kissing me, a quiet thank you.

"Are you feeling better now Charlie?" I looked down at him as he was laying on my chest trying to gain his breath back "yes- yes thank you chéri I'm feeling much better chéri thank you" He smiled and kissed my neck and nuzzled his face as I covered us up with the covers "well then I'm confident that you learned your lesson and will start to believe in yourself more yes?" I say as I start stroking his hair

"Well I don't know chéri, if that's what happens when I doubt myself I might just start doing it more" He laughs and hides his face in the crook of my neck, I gently smack the back of his head but I also laugh at his comment "I love you charles, you know that right?" "I know chéri, but I love you more."

[boopshoops]

I've... never really ever been to somethin' as fancy as this before. Oh? You want to dance? ...Pfff, sure. Why not?

Set to home screen: Aight, let's get going.

Home Transition 1: You should've seen how excited Neige was to see Vil here too. But the more I hear about Vil... really makes me wish Neige would take the hint. Don't get me wrong, Neige is sweet as candy, I know, but it's obvious Vil needs some space.

Home Transition 2: I feel like if I make one wrong step, people are gonna look at me like I'm crazy or something. I'm not used to all this etiquette. Welp, not like that's anything new anyway. Let's go have some fun.

Home Transition 3: Yuu's been... huh? Haaa, I swear to Sevens, one moment I think she's missing forever and at the next she's doing whatever the fuck she wants. Just get that cat-thing to distract her for a bit, I'll be over soon enough.

Home Transition 4: If I see one more pinch of glitter getting anywhere near my face, it's on sight. Seriously, I'm gonna be finding this shit everywhere for the rest of my life.

Home, after login: The more time I spent trying to get this whole outfit sorted out, the more I felt conflicted about RSA being invited to this party... but now that I'm here, it's not so bad.

Tap Home 1: I kept having to try on all these uncomfortable dresses before we FINALLY landed on something that suited me. Pants are so much more comfortable anyway. "Who's we?" Ah. Yuu and Neige helped me out a bit.

Tap Home 2: ...Pfff, I've watched Chenya sneak up on like, five different people now. It gets funnier every time. What a dork. That short red head looks so mad-

Tap Home 3: I...uh... think I might've saw someone crying when I came in. Should I... tell someone? I feel bad just leaving 'em be.

Tap Home 4: Hey, look, if you think you're struggling with dancing along, you can come stand on my feet. I know how to lead with this kinda thing... I mean, if you wanna. Not that you're doing bad, I- fuck. You know what I mean.

Tap Home 5: ...You've been hiding under my cape for a good while now. I know it's all shiny and big and whatnot. But do you need something? I'm sure there are other places you could go. Oh? Nah. You're not botherin' me. I just thought you might be getting bored.

Groovification: Hahaha! You shoulda seen their faces when I finally started dancing. Let's out-prince these princes....... man that sounded cheesy. Pfff-

Tap Home Groovy: Whew... I think I'm gonna take a break outside for a bit. Maybe explore NRC campus while I have the chance. Crowley always gets on my case when I sneak in here with the cat boy.

Home Transition Groovy: Ya know, I'd be down to do something like this again. Maybe with more casual clothes, but still. I liked seeing all the shocked looks on peoples faces when they see I actually know how to work this kinda look.

Art tags!!! 🫂💕

@thehollowwriter @skriblee-ksk @distant-velleity @justm3di0cr3 @kitwasnothere

@lowcallyfruity @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @cecilebutcher

The lovely fan event is by @starry-night-rose !!! 💕

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you call me back

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'mutual pining' rated: T wc: 864 cw: angst with a happy ending, mention of being drunk tags: mutual pining, long distance friends, friends to lovers

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

"Hey, Eds, just me checking in. Dustin said you lost your job and I didn't know if you already had another one or not. Uh. Just call me when you can."

"Me again. Heard you got a new job! I didn't even know a record store opened in Hawkins. You must be happy about that. Um, well, I guess call me when you can?"

"I know this is kinda the worst to get a lot of voice messages, but I just...miss you? Sorry, I just. Needed you to know that. If I upset you or something, you can tell me."

"Eds! Listen! If you call me back, I gotta tell you something! Robin said I can't say it over the phone though! Ouch, sorry, just stubbed my toe. Uh, okay wait. I think I'm drunk."

Eddie listened to every voice message on repeat every night before bed.

He didn't know why he didn't call Steve back, especially after the last message that left him dangerously hopeful that he would admit he had feelings for him.

They'd naturally drifted when Steve moved away with Robin, though they'd kept up weekly phone calls for months. The highlight of Eddie's week was getting to talk to Steve about the kids and hear about his exciting life in the city.

But after a few months, the calls got shorter, and then Eddie decided that he had to pull away completely before Steve unintentionally broke his heart.

It wasn't Steve's fault he couldn't keep things strictly platonic.

The phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts.

He looked at the clock and frowned. It was much later than Steve usually called, even the one drunk message was from closer to ten instead of one in the morning.

He answered, hoping it was just Wayne checking in from work.

"Hello?"

"Edward."

Robin.

"How're things, birdie?" Sounding casual would work for him, right?

"Things for me would be a lot better if I wasn't dealing with the mopiest human being on the planet right now."

He could hear the crossed arms in her voice.

"Oh?"

"Oh? That's all you've got? You don't return Steve's calls for almost two months and all you've got is 'oh'?"

Had it really been that long?

"I-"

"Don't wanna hear it. Can you please at least call him back and break his heart so he can move on? I cannot deal with the pining anymore."

She hung up before he could respond.

Well.

He dialed the number for their apartment, hoping Robin would at least explain more of what she meant.

"'Lo?" Steve's voice, rough with sleep, answered.

"Uh."

"Eddie?" Steve sounded like he'd just had cold water thrown on him, much more awake. "Holy shit. Hi."

"Hey. Uh-"

"I'm sorry," Steve interrupted.

"Sorry? For what?"

"Whatever I did to make you not wanna talk to me."

"Steve, I-"

"No, I just. I know sometimes I'm needy or clingy or whatever. Robin doesn't mind it because she is, too, but I know it's annoying. Like, you have a life that I don't belong in and I just have to get used to that. I should've taken the hint sooner."

Eddie's heart was racing.

Now. Do it now.

"Why would you think you don't belong in my life?"

"It's just that you always talk to everyone else, but not me. I kinda got the message, just, maybe later than you hoped."

"Stevie..." Eddie sighed, his grip on the phone tightening. "I miss you every minute of every day. I just thought...you seem happy there. I don't wanna make you feel like you owe me anything."

A whimper could be heard on the other end and Eddie felt his stomach drop.

"Eds, I." A pause. "I didn't wanna do this over the phone, but I won't be back in Hawkins for another month. I'm sorry this might change everything, but I can't keep doing this. I love you. I love you so much that some days I think about packing up and moving back there because having you laughing next to me on the couch sounds worlds better than anything this city has to offer. You've been one of my best friends for a year, and not having you next to me is like my chest is actually trying to cave in on itself."

"Oh." Oh.

"Oh?"

"Oh."

"Is that...all?"

"No, sweetheart, I just think I'd like to say the rest in person. Think you can make time for me to visit tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Don't you have work?"

"Not anymore. Tell Robin to stay somewhere else."

"Oh."

Eddie smirked as Steve let out a breath and cleared his throat.

"I have a shift in the morning, but I can be home right after lunch?"

"Perfect." Eddie started pacing as he mentally planned what he needed for his four hour drive. "Grab some lube if you don't have some. We've got a lot of time to make up for. Oh! And before I go, I love you too."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Stevie. Kind of been head over heels for the better part of a year."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

"Tomorrow?" Steve was smiling and Eddie could feel his heart melting.

"Tomorrow."

[writingforstraykids]

Finding home in your heart - Pt.2

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader (mention of Minchan | Jisung)

Word Count: 4461

Summary: Felix and you try to figure out how to continue after that first kiss. After insisting on making you dinner before anything further, you soon learn his true intentions are a bit different...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst (if you squint), smut, p in v, daddy kink, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dom!lix, sub!reader (at least like 98%)

A/N: I'm so happy you all loved the first part so much, I hope you'll enjoy this🤭🖤

PART ONE

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

After an early night the day before, you're unsure what to expect today. You and Felix kissed. Then you both continued like nothing had happened, had dinner, and went to bed, both too flustered to talk about it. You get up early, get ready in your adjoining bathroom, and try to avoid leaving your room for as long as possible. Stepping out into the hallway, you curse softly as the door to Felix's room opens. Your eyes meet, and he smiles nervously. “Hey,” he says quietly. 

“Morning,” you respond just as quietly. You don't know where to look because he looks way too good in his sweater and messy hair. 

“I-uh…,” he trails off, not knowing what to say as you search his eyes observantly. 

“You regret it,” you nod, and his face falls. “I should've known. I shouldn't have kissed you,” you say and inhale shakily. Fuck. 

“Y/nnie,” he says timidly but gets interrupted by the front door opening. 

“I'm homeee,” your best friend shouts, giving you an excuse to end this awkward conversation early.

You swallow hard as you hear Felix's door falling shut again and take a deep breath. “Hey,” you smile brightly and wrap her into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, hun!”

“Thank you,” she beams and searches the room. “Where's my dad?”

“Uh, probably still sleeping,” you lie, and she frowns at you. 

“It's late. I thought you said he's doing better?” she asks worriedly. 

“He is, sleep is still important,” you tell her, and she rolls her eyes at you. 

“Mhm, fine,” she nods. I think I'll take a shower and then take a nap. Wake me in two hours, yeah?” She asks, and you reluctantly nod as she walks to the end of the hallway and steps into her room. 

You wait for another few moments before quietly making your way over to Felix's room. You slip inside and silently pull the door closed, turning the key. Felix glances up, startled at the sound, and looks at you with big, questioning eyes. 

Your heart breaks a little when you see how anxious he looks, sitting at the edge of his bed. “You're doing yoga again?”

“Excuse me?” he blinks at you. 

“Mr. utter depression?” You hint, and a weak smile travels across his lips. 

“Y/nnie,” he speaks so softly it makes your insides all warm and fuzzy. You step in front of him and hum in response. His hands find your waist, and he searches your eyes timidly. “Regret is a rather strong expression.”

“Meaning?” you ask, tilting your head at him. 

“Scared is more suitable,” he tells you. 

You hesitantly brush back his hair for him and chew on your lower lip. “Scared of what?”

“Pissing her off,” he says. “Hurting you,” he continues and very slowly pulls you into his lap. “Getting hurt.”

You hum gently and wrap your arms around his neck. “I have no intention of hurting you, and I don't think you want to hurt me,” you say, and he nods agreeingly. “She's barely home at this point. Would she really bother seeing two people she loves together?”

“I don't know,” he admits and sighs softly. “Y/nnie…think this through for a second. Why did you kiss me?”

“Because…I really like you,” you say, and Felix hums. 

“Like me,” he nods and tilts his head at you. “Is that all?”

“Well, not like, obviously. I…like you,” you say, not quite ready to say the big word yet. 

Felix nods and chews on his lower lip. “Enough to make this something serious at some point?” he asks, and you swallow softly. “Because I'm not looking for a one-night stand to get over what happened.”

“I know,” you quickly nod. “Neither am I.”

Felix timidly searches your eyes and shakes his head a little. “You can't want that. I'm still struggling with that shit, I'll have trouble trusting people for a while.”

“Lixie,” you say gently. “I meant every word I said back at Min and Chan's. Let me earn your trust and give you the love you deserve,” you try. 

Felix shakily fondles your sides and takes a deep breath. “Are you sure?” 

“Very,” you nod, searching his eyes. “Are you?”

“Trying,” he admits, squeezing your hips. “Let me make you dinner first?” he suggests, making you giggle. 

“And then you'll know?” you laugh, raising your eyebrows at him. 

“Oh, I will,” he nods convinced. 

-

He had been right, he would know after tonight. Dinner is ready just as the sun starts to set, painting the sky in beautiful hues of red and making the ocean glitter. The table on the balcony is set, beautiful red roses resting in a vase in the middle. You're speechless, stepping outside, and he glances at you nervously. “Too much?”

“No, it's beautiful,” you assure him, flashing him a bright smile. “Just unexpected.”

“Oh…well, I wasn't talking about dino nuggies,” he snorts. 

“What's wrong with those, huh?” you ask, jokingly offended. 

“Nothing,” he giggles, sitting down opposite you. “Just not…very first date?” 

“You're cute,” you smirk, thanking him as he pours you a drink. 

Dinner tastes amazing, and you make sure he knows it. The two of you get along well, talking is easy since you've been on your own so often before. But you can tell he's more nervous than usual and so are you. 

“Sooo, what do I have to do to qualify?” you ask once you're all done with dinner. 

“Nothing, honestly,” Felix tells you with a soft smile. “Just wanted to have an excuse to spend some time with you.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, blushing a little. Felix gently takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. “How do we go from here then?”

“Y/nnie…I always knew you're beautiful, I just never paid much attention to it, obviously. But those past few weeks made me realize how beautiful you are inside out and how safe I feel around you,” he tells you, eyes softening the longer he looks at you. “You make me feel at home, and I want to be selfish for once and keep that.”

“And you're sure you won't freak out about what people will think of us?” you ask gently. “To some people, eight years are worlds apart.”

“I don't care what they think of me, it wouldn't be the first idiotic comments I receive. I'm more worried about you, but I'll have your back, no matter what,” he assures you. 

You get up and walk to his side of the table. He scoots back with his chair to make room for you, and you slip into his lap. “Then I'm ready.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, eyes shining brightly. 

“Yes,” you nod, mirroring his smile. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands find your waist. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and this time it's your turn to give him consent. Felix's soft lips meet yours. It's only been a few days, but you've missed the feeling so much. Your hand travels up, fingers burying deep into his hair, as you kiss back lovingly. You scoot forward to get closer and pull a soft sound from him at the movement. You deepen the kiss and-

“What the fuck?!” You flinch back heavily and stare up at your best friend standing at the door. Her eyes are wide, watching the two of you, and Felix's brain seems to stop working as he's frozen in shock. “Oh my God, you just kissed my dad.”

“Well, technically,” you start, and she cuts you off with a shrill laugh. 

“Don't you dare pull the adoption card on me now,” she warns you, and you quickly shut your mouth again. 

“I thought you wouldn't be home for the weekend?” Felix says, and you gently shove his chest. As if that's the issue right now. 

“Are you - dad!” she snaps at him. 

“Sorry, that's a valid question,” he chuckles nervously. 

“Why? Because I ruined your plans of sneaking around behind my back?” she asks sharply. 

“Dear, we…we were still figuring things out, no one's sneaking around-”

“Yes, you were! You didn't tell me you had a crush on each other,” she points out. 

“Mhm, sure, because you're home so often that I could've told you,” he says defensively. “I'm not asking about your love life while you're out in the world, am I?”

“That's…that's different. He's my boyfriend, some dude none of you knew before. You're my best friend and my dad - that's something completely different!” she protests. 

“Well…surprise,” he sighs, and she shakes her head at him. “You wanted me to be happy, go out and meet someone. Well, here I am, and now you're throwing a tantrum for me not telling you the minute her eyes met mine…which would’ve been concerning.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” you chime in gently, realizing this is the real issue here. “I was scared you'd think weirdly of me for it.”

“What? No, why would I?” she groans. “You're two of the most important people in my life. If you make each other happy, go for it…but I won't take sides if you fight.”

“Obviously,” you chuckle. “That's okay.”

“It has to be,” she nods. 

“So..you're not mad?” Felix asks gently, and she shakes her head. “Oh.”

“Oh my god, uncle Min will love this,” she grins and grabs her phone. “He's been betting on the two of you for weeks now.”

“He's been…fucks sake,” Felix snorts, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, well, I'll grab my charger and leave,” she announces and turns away from you. “Use protection; I'm not ready to have a sibling so soon after finding out about you two,” she says, and Felix beneath you flushes crimson red. 

“Shut up,” you shout after her.

Felix leans back against the chair with a soft groan and stares at the ceiling. “I swear, what is wrong with her sometimes?”

The front door slams closed, and you soothingly run your hand through his hair. “Well, she's right, isn't she?” you ask, chuckling. “Where were we…oh, right,” you say and grind down against him with a little more force this time. 

Felix's jaw drops with a soft whimper, and it's the sweetest sound you've ever heard. “If you start doing this now, you gotta finish it,” he says, biting his lower lip hard as you repeat the movement. 

“I will if you let me,” you say, and he nods feverishly. “Let me take care of you today, hm?”

“Y-Y/nnie,” he stammers, grip growing tight on your hips as you want to stand up. You see the hint of anxiety in his eyes and stop, sitting back down. “I'm…I'm not..god, this is embarrassing.”

You cup his face and soothingly run your thumbs across his cheekbones. “You can tell me.”

He can't meet your eyes, blushing heavily, and stares out into the slowly darkening sky. “I…I know I've been married and everything. It's not like I didn't have sex before, but uhm…”

“Lix, were you the one in control?” you ask, wondering if that's the issue here. 

“Sometimes,” he nods and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I can do both, but it's more like she wouldn't let me touch much, prepare herself, and get done with it.”

“Oh,” you nod gently, tilting your head at him. “Well, it won’t be the same with me. You can touch as much as you want.”

The shade of red on his face deepens, and you didn't think it was possible at this point. “Okay,” he says, barely audible. 

“You have to promise me something, though,” you continue, locking eyes with him. The sudden seriousness in your tone draws his full attention. “You have to tell me what you like and what you don’t like. If anything feels too much or off, you say stop. Okay?”

Felix nods, the vulnerability in his eyes making your heart swell with a mix of affection and determination. “Okay,” he repeats, stronger this time. A faint smile lies on his lips as he realizes the depth of care in your every word.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then to his cheek, and finally lingering close to his lips. “We’re going to explore this together, yeah? I want you to discover every part of you, the parts known and especially the unknown, Lixie,” you tell him, and the heat between you is growing, breaths mingling between your lips.

Felix looks up at you through his lashes, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still. “Bedroom?” he asks, and you nod in response. He gets up, carrying you all the way there, not without stealing a kiss or two. He throws the door closed and lets you down gently, meeting your eyes with a giddy smile. “Can I?” he asks gently as his fingers find the hem of your shirt.

“Yes,” you smile encouragingly, letting him take it off for you. Felix tries to be polite and tries not to stare too much, but it's hard. His hands shyly find your waist, eyes meeting yours as his fingers tremble against your skin. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and after getting permission, you take it off for him in return. You're less shy, hands roaming his back and down his stomach. His eyes widen as you sink down to your knees in front of him, fidgeting with the button of his trousers. “Okay?” you check in. 

“Okay,” he nods, breath hitching a little as you pull down his jeans. Felix watches you cautiously as your hands fondle up his thighs. “Y/nnie,” he whispers into the quiet of the room once your lips meet his abdomen, traveling as low as possible. “Wait,” he stops you gently, sitting down at the edge of his bed and pulling you with him. He searches your eyes for consent before helping you out of your trousers, biting back a guttural groan at the sight of you in your underwear. “You're so beautiful,” he tells you, hands finding your waist before pulling you into his lap. His hands travel up your thighs, slowly fondling your sides, and then he brushes aside the straps of your bra only to plant soft kisses where the material had been resting on your shoulders. Soft lips travel their way up your neck, small promises of love littering your skin as he tries not to buck his hips up against you. He sinks his teeth into your skin, right below your ear, drawing a sweet moan from you. Encouraged by the sound, he continues his way back down to your collarbone, nibbling and sucking at your skin. You're sure he's leaving marks you'd have trouble hiding the next day. “So, so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, hands digging deep into your hips. 

“Lix,” you whisper, running your hand through his hair. You can feel him getting painfully hard beneath you and gently rock your hips against him. A groan dies in his throat, hips bucking up against you. “Lixie,” you whisper, and he hums in response. “Don't hold back,” you say, and the next drag of your hips pulls the sweetest sound from his lips. “You sound so pretty, don't hide.” 

Felix blinks at you, almost a little surprised, before smiling shyly. His lips meet yours gently and you allow him to find his way around you and get comfortable with it. His fingers travel up your back before unclasping your bra skillfully. He doesn't break the kiss yet, but his fingertips brush against your nipple before squeezing your breast, pulling a whine from you. At that sound something in him switches and he gets up with you in his arms easily, lowering you into the bed. He gives you enough time to get comfortable, resting your head on his pillow while hovering over you. His lips are attached to your nipple before you can comprehend what's happening, a soft sucking motion making you moan out in bliss. Encouraged by the sound he starts devouring your boobs, soft little bites, kitten licks, sucking marks wherever he can. He's moaning deliciously as if he's trying to crawl into your skin. It's messy, it's sweet and you can't stop writhing with need beneath him, tugging at his hair with soft whimpers. “Fuck, baby,” he growls, dipping his fingers below the hem of your panties. You mewl as his fingers brush against your clit, running down between your folds and collecting your juices. “Shit, you're so wet already,” he moans, and only then you notice him subtly rutting against the mattress between your legs. 

“Felix, please,” you whine, and his blown, dark eyes meet yours. “Please, I need you, your mouth, your fingers, anything, please,” you beg needily. 

“Yeah,” he nods frantically. “Gonna make you feel so good, yeah?” he says, circling his finger against your dripping hole. You whine in response, the sound dying in your throat as he pushes his finger inside of you. His eyes widen at how easily he slips inside and he almost hesitantly eases in another finger. “Fuck,” he whispers, sitting up and ripping off your panties with his other hand. He watches his fingers disappear into your body as you clench around them, squirming. “Fuck, you're perfect,” he tells you, holding back a soft growl as he guides your leg up over his shoulder. He starts kissing your inner thigh as he works you open, soon adding another finger. “Such a good girl, you're doing so well, pretty,” he says and there's not much of his initial shyness left, which makes you feel prouder than you'd ever admit.

“Lix, more, please,” you beg, whimpering softly as he squeezes your thigh calmingly. 

“Patience, be a good girl,” he tells you, watching with interest how your body trembles at his words. “You like that? Being called a good girl?” he asks, gently rubbing his thumb against your clit. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper and cover your mouth in shock as he freezes. Your eyes meet, and your own anxiety meets his curiosity. 

“What did you just say?” he says barely audible, feeling the need to be buried inside you spread through him like wildfire.

You blush heavily, shying away beneath his gaze, and whine at the loss of his fingers. You fear you've ruined the moment when he pulls away from you, not noticing he's simply getting rid of the last piece of clothing parting you. 

He moves further up on the bed and grabs your chin softly, meeting your eyes. “Say that again,” he says, so kind but demanding it makes your brain all mushy. 

“Daddy?” you ask timidly and you can see the change in his whole demeanor. 

“Is that what you're gonna call me behind closed doors, sweet girl?” he asks, an amused smirk settling on his lips. 

Oh. “I don't need the door to be closed to call you that in this setting,” you give back, a little more confident now that he doesn't seem to mind it. 

Felix snorts softly, reaching down between your bodies. Your breath hitches in anticipation as you can feel him dragging his dick between your folds. “If you keep dripping like that I won't need any of the lube I bought,” he tells you bluntly. 

“You…so the dinner wasn't about talking after all,” you hum amused, reaching up to cup his cheek. 

“Not really,” he smirks, searching your eyes to make sure you're still comfortable. 

“I'm on birth control, daddy,” you say and he bites back a groan at the implied message behind that. 

“You're going to be the death of me,” he chuckles. 

“You're not that much older, come on,” you tease him, and your jaw drops as he pushes his dick inside of you without any further warning. 

“Not that cocky now, huh?” he asks, watching your face flood with pleasure at the way he's stretching you out. “You're gonna be a good girl now, you hear me?” he asks and you nod. “Words, princess.”

“Yes, daddy, I'll be good,” you nod quickly, reaching out for him helplessly. He lets you wrap your arms around him, your hand sinking into his hair. 

“Mhm, I sure hope so,” he giggles, pulling back before pushing back inside. He watches your face contort with pleasure as he starts working out a steady pace and captures your lips in a kiss. “So pretty baby,” he mumbles against your lips, his own parting with soft moans at the much-needed friction. “You feel so good, pretty girl, so fucking perfect,” he grunts and buries his face in your neck. 

“Only for you, daddy,” you tell him, and his hips stutter. 

“Yeah? Only mine, baby? No one else?” he asks, and you know those words carry more weight than you'd both like them to. 

You pull him back up, wrapping your legs around his hips, and sink deep into his eyes. He stills in you, breathing out slowly as you tenderly brush your thumb against his lower lip and cup his face. “Only for you, Lixie. As long as you'll have me I'll be yours and yours only,” you promise. 

Felix swallows softly, before kissing you very firmly and desperately. “Only mine,” he whispers, hand gently fondling down your side and grabbing your thigh. “My beautiful baby.”

“Only yours, my sweet love,” you promise and the last hint of anxiety leaves his eyes. Your lips meet and he presses himself as close as he can, a breathy moan leaving him as he starts moving again. “Feels so good, daddy,” you moan, arching up against him as he hits your sweet spot. 

Felix's hand slips beneath your body, keeping your back arched as he picks up pace. “Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he promises, and his bluntness has you writhing. He gently drops you back into the mattress after a second, hand starting to roam your body. His lips wrap around your nipple once more and he moans so sinfully you can't help but make a mental note of it for another time. His hand slips between your bodies, fingertips brushing between your folds and against your clit. “Such a good girl for daddy,” he praises you breathlessly and plants messy kisses down your jaw. 

“Fuck, daddy,” you moan in pure need as the force of his thrusts picks up. “K-Keep going, please,” you beg between choked moans, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening already. 

Felix watches your head drop to the side into the pillow and reaches up, abandoning your clit. You can feel how soaked you are when his fingertips meet your cheek and make you look at him again. “Wanna see your pretty face when you cum,” he tells you, which has you rolling your eyes back. He groans as your grip on his hair tightens and watches your face, imprinting every detail in his brain. 

“Daddy,” you whimper. “M’so close, please,” you moan. 

“Yeah, daddy's girl wanna cum?” he rasps into your ear, and shit, that deep voice could send you over the edge alone. “Gonna show daddy how good he's making you feel, hm?” 

“Please,” you whine, body shaking beneath him. “Please, I've been good,” you tell him, eyes filling with desperation. 

“Wait for me,” he pants, before guiding your legs onto his shoulders. “Wanna cum with you, pretty girl,” he tells you, practically folding you in half with the next harsh snap of his hips. You moan out his name obscenely loud as he starts a fast, desperate pace, pounding into you. “So close, baby,” he groans. “So fucking perfect.”

You don't know who falls over the edge first. All you know is that you're clenching around him, moaning beneath him, and shaking heavily as it happens. He's cursing the filthiest shit, burying his face in your neck with a desperate, broken ‘Ah, fuck’ as he paints your walls with his hot release. You're grabbing whatever parts of him you can reach, trying to find something to steady yourself with. Felix grows heavy on you once you're both done, nuzzling his nose against your neck. “Shit, you're amazing,” you breathe out, making him giggle sweetly. 

“Baby?” he asks, experimentally rolling his hips once more, which makes you moan softly. “You want to - Think you can go again?” he asks, already growing hard again. His voice went all shy and soft again and the contrast to before is making you dizzy. 

“Get on your back,” you tell him and he does, smiling up at you. Your breath hitches at the sight. He looks so fucked in the most positive way. Hair a mess, lips swollen from kissing, eyes wide and so full of love. You climb into his lap, bracing yourself on his chest as you lower yourself onto his dick. A broken sound leaves him and he's gripping your hips needily. “Now relax, gonna take good care of you, Lixie.”

“Please,” he smiles sweetly, head falling back with the neediest moan as you lift your hips. 

-

As the evening turns to night, you’ve shared all these moments of laughter, gentle touches, and explorations. Felix, usually so controlled and shy around you, opens up under your attentive gaze and touch, showing you a side of him that’s so raw and unguarded it makes you dizzy. It feels so easy to express his desires, to ask for what he wants, and to give in to the sensations rippling through him in your presence.

The vulnerability and trust he places in you weave a stronger bond between you. You make him feel so loved and desired that every second is another step toward healing and never-before-experienced intimacy for him.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seems like a distant reality, Felix whispers in the quiet of the room, “I never knew it could be like this…to feel so connected, I mean.”

You fondle his hair, a smile covering your lips. “It’s all about being with the right person. Someone who cares about you.”

It’s not just the physical closeness but the emotional bond that has deepened tonight, the trust that has been solidified. Felix’s earlier anxieties and fears seem smaller now, making them manageable with you by his side.

As you both drift off, Felix plays with your hair. The newfound hope and confidence, soaked up by your love and understanding, make him feel all fuzzy. In turn, you feel finally happy, knowing you’ve managed to lead the way to a future with mutual support and love. You realize this is just the beginning, there will always be challenges, misunderstandings, and perhaps even moments of doubt. But the foundation you’re starting to build feels strong, rooted in honesty and communication. Felix was right, this does feel like home.

PART ONE

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[vaguesxrrow]

can u plsss write one about charles with an american reader? like the inspo is the olivia rodrigo song so american lol. like maybe him making fun of her accent and her doing the and back and like the differences between the two cultures?

ACTUALLY INSANEEE bc right before seeing this i was singing that song in my head (i dont listen to olivia but i probably should tbh). alsoo i wasn't sure if you wanted a fic or hcs, so i kind of made a 2 in 1. hope you dont mind! xx

a/n: im not american nor british and ive never been to the usa or the uk... so excuse any inaccuracies pleaseee

tags: g!n reader, american!reader, alive!reader

you shivered and exhaled sharply, your breath misting out in front of you. the moment you stepped outside, you knew you should have piled on more layers, but edwin had been eager in whisking everyone out the door to carry out an investigation for your current case.

you burrowed closer to charles. obviously, he couldn't provide any real body heat, but being near him was a boost in morale to keep going despite the temperature.

"alright?" he asked, putting an arm across your shoulders.

"i should've put on more layers," you grumbled.

charles laughed as he kissed the top of your head. "you can have my jacket."

shaking your head, you declined. "it's fine, it's not that cold. and besides, i wouldn't want to strip you of your british glory and your british coat."

charles snorted. "so it's my british glory, now? who was the one making fun of my accent literally just yesterday?"

"litch-rally," you parroted, grinning. "why is it that all your t's turn into ch's?"

"hey, you're one to talk - what is it you were ordering at the restaurant yesterday? a glass of wa-der, was it?"

"bite me, charles."

he raised his jacket up and engulfed you with it in a bear hug. you shrieked with laughter and wriggled in his hold, but didn't protest when he demanded you hold your arms out so he could put the jacket on you.

"what are you, a soccer player? i thought i was your [boy/girlfriend/partner], not your competition," you teased.

"soccer?" he mocked, outraged. "soccer? it's football, mate."

"mate?" you scoffed incredulously, although you were smiling. "way to friendzone me after months of dating."

"oh, come on, you know you could never get rid of me." charles pulled you in again, this time by your hand. "and for the record, you look cute wearing my clothes."

a few beats of silence, in which you two looked at each other with similar expressions of fondness and exasperation.

"yeah, okay, now get away from me, you victorian fossil." you shoved him playfully, and sprinted away to catch up with the other three. niko waved you over, giggling at charles, who was jogging to keep up.

"victorian fossil? i grew up in the 80s!" he exclaimed. "you know this!"

⌦ ---

- you do know very well that charles grew up in the 80s - you frequently ask him what it was like back then, because naturally, you'd take an interest in your boyfriend's life

- however, charles loves how you're genuinely interested, and get how watching times change can feel a bit lonely for him sometimes

- you're a great listener when it comes to this (which you think you should be greatly accredited for; charles' good looks can be very distracting at times)

- imagine: you and charles in your room as he looks around, inspecting the decor you have on display as he rambles about life in the 80s

- he tells you about a huge movie premiere he went to:

- charles: "get this, right - a ridiculously long line outside the movie theatre. the weather is absolutely miserable, and so are the people. no one's talking at all. i think everyone was just hungry - i saw this lady have tea delivered.

- you: 'i keep forgetting you have stuff like tea times. and did everyone really have the patience to wait for that long, in silence?'

- charles, with a fake american accent: yeah, dude. in silence.

- you throw a pillow at him.

- you also like telling hilariously bad jokes relating to his accent

- you: psst. charles.

- he turns towards you, already expecting another jab at his british-ness

- you: what day do british people eat the most?

- charles, in a deadpan: what day.

- you: chewsday, innit-

- he yells 'NOPE' and walks through the wall, leaving you to wheeze-laugh on your own

[befuddled-calico-whump]

✨Content Tagging Guide✨

disclaimer: this is not directed at anyone, nor was it sparked because I've seen anyone mistagging anything. I just like lists and I'm going to make it everyone's problem :)

So you wanna write a story with darker themes, but are mayhaps a little uncertain about all the different content warnings you've seen.

Not to worry! Hopefully this quick guide will clear things up. To illustrate each level, I'm going to use macaroni and cheese as the content example. Without further ado...

cw: macaroni and cheese

^^this warning is very general. It tells the reader the content will show up at some point within the text, but doesn't specify the detail, use, or extent.

cw: macaroni and cheese (mentioned)

They drove through town, past the busy main street, and the factory where the local brand of macaroni and cheese got its packaging.

This warning tells readers the content will be mentioned; maybe in dialogue, or in a description, but not explored in detail.

cw: macaroni and cheese (discussed)

"I'm lactose intolerant," he said. "So I can't---well, I shouldn't eat stuff like that."

"But you did anyway?" they pressed. "I'm sorry, just... How did it feel? After?"

"Awful. I really should've listened to my common sense and ordered something besides mac and cheese."

As you'd expect, this warning tells the reader that the content will be discussed, either in conversation, or through a character's thoughts. Discussions can involve the moral implications of the content, how the content fits within the world, philosophies relating to the content, and the emotional or lasting effects of the content on a character.

cw: macaroni and cheese (referenced)

He tapped her shoulder. "Hey, I didn't see you after work yesterday, you okay?"

"Fine now," she said, shrugging. "I just had a bad batch of mac and cheese for lunch."

Very similar to "mentioned", this warning often implies a non-explicit, non-graphic mention of the content.

cw: macaroni and cheese (implied)

He frowned down at the bowl, then averted his eyes, appetite lost by the gooey yellow mass inside, and the heavy, creamy smell wafting off it.

This warning tells readers that the content is not outright stated, but the character's reactions and actions imply what's going on. If you could remove the context from the scene/paragraph in question and make it look like something else is happening, you probably have implied content. Note that there is a difference between simply "implied", and "heavily implied".

cw: macaroni and cheese (fade to black)

She took her seat at the table, queasiness building in her stomach. Her least-favorite food was to be served, and while she knew it would be rude to decline it, she wasn't looking forward to lunch. As the dreaded bowl was placed before her, she picked up the fork, and plunged it in.

Similar to implied, but instead of carrying on through the scene the content takes place in, fade to black builds up to the moment, and stops, often transitioning to the next scene before the content is given any kind of detail.

cw: macaroni and cheese (non-explicit)

For lunch, he was served a bowl of mac and cheese, one of his least favorite meals. He choked it down anyway, and hoped he wouldn't get an upset stomach.

This tells the reader the content will be present in some form, but not described in detail. It may have some active bearing on the character or plot, but won't be particularly graphic. While the character may be emotionally affected after the fact, the content itself is glossed over.

cw: macaroni and cheese (explicit)

The bowl was placed in front of him, steam still rising from the substance inside. He knew what it was before he looked. Mac and cheese. And he'd have to devour the entire bowl of it. He lifted the first forkful, strands of yellow cheese trailing from squishy curved noodles, all the way back into the bowl, even as he raised it to his mouth. Damn, it was extra cheesy. He knew his lactose intolerance just wouldn't hold up.

This is often used as the heaviest warning, telling readers that the content and the characters' reactions to it will be described in detail.

Again, this was something I mostly just wrote for fun, and to dramatize mac and cheese but I do hope someone out there finds it helpful. Let me know if there's a type I missed! :)

[denaliwrites]

Little Creepy House

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Attic"

Summary: The Doctor really doesn't like attics. Unfortunately, that's where the alien of the week is.

Soundtrack: Walking on Air by Kerli

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Oh, no," the Doctor groaned from behind you. "Why'd it have to be an attic?"

Indeed, the two of you, as well as the owner of the house (and the mother of the missing child you and the Doctor were looking for), were looking up into the dark hole in the ceiling that fed into the house's attic.

Even you had to admit that, staring into that deep dark shadowy black, you were a little nervous too.

Unlike the Doctor, though, you didn't hesitate to climb up the rickety set of wooden steps leading up. Your head popped up over the threshold, eyes scanning the dark quickly before you hauled the rest of you into the room.

"Bethy?" you called out into the dark. Everything sounded... strangely muffled, up here. Your voice didn't reach nearly as far as you expected, and when you heard the Doctor say your name, you swore it sounded like he was speaking through cotton.

"Bethy?" you tried again, louder, more alert now that you knew you had to really make an effort to hear things up here.

Which... was a little odd, wasn't it? You knew attics were sometimes creepy, full of dust and ancient furniture and vintage chests with skeletons in their wedding dresses stuck inside them.

But you'd never heard of a noise-canceling attic.

You were so busy thinking and listening that you forgot to keep an eye on your feet. Something in your path tripped you up and nearly sent you flying. Wheeling around, however, revealed that nothing was there.

Okay, but you knew the difference between tripping on an object and tripping on air -- there had definitely been something there a moment ago. You may not have seen it, but it had to exist somewhere in the vicinity.

A shiver cascaded down your spine in a way that reminded you of the time the Mean Girl in your class had dropped an ice cube down your shirt. In fact, you were pretty sure that the shiver even left behind a trail of cold sweat that only served to further mimic the memory.

"Doctor?" you called, turning back.

Wait, where was the entrance?

There should've been a glowing beacon of light emanating from behind you, but instead, just pure darkness greeted you. Enveloped you. Made you want to cry out for your mother.

"Oh, fuck this place," you growled to yourself, facing ahead and forging on, steps as determined as they were unsure.

"Bethy?" you shouted again after a minute or so, hoping that somehow it'd reach her this time.

Only silence greeted you at first, but then --

"Mom?" a tiny voice cried out, and you spun in place, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "Mom?" the voice cried again. You swiftly turned to your left and all but ran ahead, not even caring what danger may lay in wait for you.

"Hey, hey, hey," you said comfortingly as you got nearer to where, to the best of your abilities, you'd calculated the voice was coming from. "I'm not your mom, but she sent me. I'm here to take you back to her, okay? You can come out, it's safe."

You thought maybe you'd been wrong, or that the girl had run away, or maybe that she was just considering her options, but only a moment later a small body launched at you like a missile and hit your body with force. Tiny arms circled your hips, and a scared voice whimpered into your shirt. You could hear sniffles, too.

Kneeling down to the girl's level, you pulled her into a hug and whispered comforting nothings for a moment. She needed a parent -- her mother, to be precise. But you were the best she had for now, so it was up to you to fill in the gap.

"Hey, it's okay," you told her, pulling away so that you could look her in the eyes, your hands gripping her shoulders firmly. "We're going to get out of here, and you're going to see your mom and give her a big hug. And I'm gonna see my friend and give him a big hug. Yeah?"

She nodded, trying to contain her sniffles while she wiped away her tears.

"Say it, Bethy. C'mon."

"Yeah."

"That's a girl. Okay. Let's get the hell out of here."

You stood and took her hand, then turned to face the direction you thought you'd maybe come from.

Well, that wasn't good, was it?

Unwilling to show your fear to the girl, you marched on ahead, gently tugging her along with you. For a while, the two of you were silent as you tried to navigate the dark. Then --

"Hide!"

And then Bethy was gone, quicker than you could even process what had happened. "Bethy?" you called, feeling panic rising in your chest. "Bethy? That's not funny -- where the fuck did you go!?"

There was no answer. At least, not from Bethy.

You could hear something, though, lurching closer. Each muffled, thunking step was accentuated by a rattling breath and a growing sense of dread. Suddenly, you understood why Bethy had told you to hide.

Instead of even trying to do that, though, your body stood frozen, eyes locked on a looming shape in the darkness.

A pathetic moan spilled from your lips as the thing moved closer, and you could finally see details -- though you wished you couldn't.

Its body was an ever-shifting mass of shadows, rippling and roiling. You could see limbs -- arms and legs of flesh, but they were unlike anything you'd ever seen before. The legs reminded you of Godzilla with how thick and heavy they seemed, while the arms -- well, if you had your wits properly about you, you would've compared them to a crab. One arm was massive and ended in a sickle-like claw, while the other was significantly smaller, and looked more like a proper arm -- though the fingers were also claws, just... smaller.

And its face was...

Well, you screamed when you saw it.

The scream was short-lived, cutting off as soon as its massive claw lifted menacingly into the air.

Oh, God, this is where I die, you thought. You weren't going to save Bethy, you were never going to see the Doctor again, or your parents, or anyone in your family, or your friends, or -- or anyone. Anything.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," a voice pierced through the darkness, the void, the hollow silence. It sounded dangerous. And it sounded an awful lot like the Doctor.

The claw froze in the air, no doubt only in hesitation, but a moment of hesitation was all you needed to move, to dive for cover somewhere far from that terrible, awful thing.

"That's better," the Doctor said from... somewhere. You weren't sure. Frankly, you kind of didn't even want to know. All you could say for sure was that, for this moment right now, you were safely hidden under a table, which just so happened to be covered with a white sheet, giving you an extra layer of security.

"Now, why are you in some poor single mother's attic, terrorizing her daughter?" the Doctor asked. All he received in response was the suffocating silence of this godforsaken room.

You heard the sound of the sonic screwdriver. The alien, or creature, or whatever it was, finally made a sound -- you thought it might've been a growl. It sounded... like rocks grinding together, but... garbled. Muffled. Like you were hearing it in impossibly deep water.

Your instincts told you to keep quiet, to be silent as the grave. Even quieter, actually, if that was possible.

That deep, gurgling growl, though. It sent such an intense wave of fear through you that you couldn't help the pitiful moan that came out.

There was a shuffle, followed by one of those awful feet stamping the ground. The alien had turned around.

"Oh, I really wish you hadn't done that," the Doctor sighed. "Run!"

You didn't need to be told twice. Where you were running to was a problem for future you, all you knew for the moment was that you needed to get the fuck away from that thing.

You only stopped running when something in the path tripped you and sent you flying towards the floor. You braced for impact, but other than a sharp hiss, you didn't acknowledge the pain. Instead, you turned sharply and grabbed at the thing that had tripped you.

Your hand wrapped around something cool and smooth, and when you drew it closer you saw that it was the leg of an old ceramic doll. Creepy, but harmless. But that didn't explain how it had disappeared earlier.

The wail it released sure did, though.

You shrieked in return, throwing the doll away into the darkness in fright. "What the fuck," you sobbed, "what the fuck. What the fuck?"

Only silence answered you.

Apparently, you'd run far enough away in this impossibly infinite attic that the alien could no longer hear you. Or the silence was so oppressive that even at near distances sound still couldn't pierce through.

Neither option seemed great, to be honest.

Regardless, though, you had to press on.

Rounding a corner, you were suddenly confronted with Bethy. She was facing away from you, looking down a corridor formed from stacks of boxes and furniture. You said her name quietly to let her know you were near. Big, terrified eyes turned back to look at you and she quickly beckoned you to join her.

You obeyed, crouching once you reached her side and looking down the corridor with her.

"It's the dolls," she whispered, pointing. You could just make out small shapes shifting in the darkness. "They won't let us through."

You sucked in a deep breath and released it as a sigh. "Don't worry," you told her, moving to a stand. "I got this."

Acting blithely unaware of your surroundings as you neared where you'd seen the dolls was surprisingly easy as, for the most part, you were rather unaware. However, your ears were honed into any slight sound that could possibly arise from those creepy little fuckers.

So when, miraculously, you caught the scratching of their little porcelain feet on the attic floor, you froze, geared up, and sent a powerful kick in the direction of the sound.

And you were met with the satisfying shatter of its stupid porcelain head.

More sounds started up, no doubt the assault on one had sent the others into a panic. But you were keyed in, and out for blood. Stomping, smashing, and crushing them was like a sport, and at the end of the match you'd destroyed about eight of them, and silence surrounded you.

"Bethy?" you called. "It's safe to come out now."

There was a quiet shuffling, and then Bethy was beside you, clinging to your arm to the point that it hurt. But you said nothing -- you were scared, too, and would probably cling to the Doctor the same way if he were there.

The two of you made your way through the attic, desperate for... well, anything, really. You were sure Bethy wanted the exit, and while you wouldn't say no to that, you were more interested in finding the Doctor.

You felt like you'd been walking for hours when you finally stumbled on the man himself. He was breathless, no doubt from running, but he grinned when he saw you. "There you are!" he said by way of greeting, pulling you into a hug. Then his eyes caught on Bethy, and he knelt down to her level. "And there you are! Your mum is gonna be very happy to see you."

If you ever made it out of this attic, anyway.

The Doctor made a sound at the back of his throat, and when you redirected your attention to him, you saw that he was looking at you rather seriously. "Any ideas?" he asked, eyes flitting for a moment to look at something behind you.

You felt the overwhelming sense of dread growing, and the fear kept you locked in place, unable to look back.

"No," you whimpered.

The Doctor moved closer, taking your face in your hands and forcing you to look into his eyes. "Hey," he said soothingly, smiling. You moaned in response. "Oh, now, none of that. C'mon. Be brave for me, yeah?"

Fear clouded your mind, and you could feel the thing behind you, could sense that claw hovering over you, ready to strike. But as the Doctor spoke, as more and more words of encouragement washed over you, the feeling started to recede.

And with it, you felt the monster retreating.

"K-keep talking," you told the Doctor urgently.

And he did, and you took his every word in, believed every word. As he spoke, and you listened, not only was the monster retreating but the darkness and silence followed it. You were starting to hear things -- birds chirping, a car driving by. A plane overhead. And you could see light beginning to filter in from... somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere?

All you really saw, though, was the Doctor.

He was grinning -- no, beaming at you.

"Look at you," he said, voice brimming with pride. "Defeating a monster that feeds off fear and isolation."

You released a relieved giggle. "No, that was all you."

"Oh, it wasn't," he told you, his eyes looking into yours. "My words would've meant nothing if you hadn't trusted me. If you hadn't believed me."

"Of course I trust you."

His grin broadened and he let out a breathy chuckle. "That's good, then. That you trust me. We would've been in a lot of trouble if you didn't."

You laughed. "I'd probably be dead."

"We can't have that," he said, suddenly serious again. For a moment you thought maybe the monster was back, but you blinked and when you opened your eyes, he was smiling again. "No dying on my watch, got it?"

"Trust me, I do not have any plans on doing that any time soon."

[pedrisbanana]

Hey can I request a fic with pedri X reader where they're just friends and theyre chilling at his house and he steals her phone so she straddles him to get it back and it leads to rough sex/face sitting/thigh riding that would be LOVELY xoxo

Two words. Pedri's nose.

Enjoy 🍌

Nosy

You and Pedri were sitting on the couch playing Fifa, when the doorbell rang. 

"Must be the Pizza." Pedri said and paused the game to get the door. You were glad he spared his cheat day for you. Eating Pizza while watching him chew on some whole grain Spaghetti was kind of depressing. 

"I'll go cut them" he yelled through his apartment and you thanked him. Deciding to scroll through your Tumblr feed while waiting, you somehow stumbled into the Pedri tag.

Gifs about Pedri. Oh. 

Sometimes you looked at gifs and pictures of Richarlison or Jude Bellingham. You were a straight girl after all, of course you liked looking at physically fit sweating men. 

Looking at these gifs of Pedri seemed weird. He was your Friend.

You scrolled past it, but the interest didn't leave you. You could take a peek right? He would never know anyway. It's just a gifset. Taking a deep breath, you scrolled back. 

The post greeted you with a gif of Gavi and Pedri. They were talking. Nothing too special. They were wearing the lilac Barcelona kits. It was from the match between Barcelona and Athletic Bilbao. 

The second gif showed Pedri complaining, probably to the referee. He was sweaty.

The third gif made you bite your lip. A blush crept upon your cheeks and a warmth spread through you. Did you really just get turned on by looking at a gif of your friend ?

The moving image showed a very sweaty Pedri. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and his flushed, tan skin glistened. His gloved hand moved up to his nose. He was breathing heavily, exhausted from the minutes in his legs.

Pedri looked wet and dirty and absolutely sexy. You had known he was attractive, but never like this. The picture caught you so off guard, you didn't notice shown person enter the living room. 

"What's got you so flushed ?" Pedri laughed and before you could move, took your phone and fell down on the couch.

Eyes wide, you screamed. "Pedri, my phone. Give it back. Pedri. Now." 

You tried to reach it, but he held it up to far, switching hands, laughing at you. 

"Pedri! I'm serious, give it back." You climbed on his lap, legs on either side of his thighs. 

He couldn't see the gifs or else he'd tease you with it forever, or worse think you'd have a crush on him and cancel your friendship.

With one quick movement Pedri grabbed your wrist and held them on your back, your phone falling onto the couch pillow. Pedri smirked at you and secured your wrists with his arm, holding you chest to chest. He was so close, you were sure he could feel your breath on his cheek.

"Now let's see what's got you all freaked out" He took your phone with his free hand, delighted to see that it wasn't locked yet. You squirmed in his lap, preparing for the embarrassment. Pedri's eyes flickered over the screen and his smirk dropped as he saw what, or more, who exactly was displayed on your phone.

The midfielder reached forward to put your phone on the table behind you. You bit your lip, prepared for him to push you off, but he didn't. He let go of your arms and to your surprise, adjusted your position on his lap, by pulling you closer with his hand on your ass. 

Pedri looked right into your eyes. Something shifted in the air, making you hold onto his broad shoulders. Your core was on top of his muscular thigh. 

"I didn't know you had these thoughts. I thought you were different." His voice was rough, but steady. 

You opened your mouth to explain yourself, but Pedri was faster.

"I should've known you were just as wet for my dick, as all these girls lusting after me" The footballer moved his hands inside the waistband of your shorts. They were warm and rough, you clenched at the feeling.

If you weren't already aroused by the pictures, you definitely would've been now. Pedri started to leave small butterfly kisses under your ear, moving down your neck between his words.

"Tell me, amor, did you think about me when you couldn't fall asleep at night ?" His thumbs skimmed above the line of your panties, making you squirm on his thigh.

"Did you finger your needy pussy while thinking about me on the pitch, hm" Pedri supported your movements on his thigh. 

"Did you think about me fucking you every time I invited you over?" 

You could feel the wetness soaking your panties, his thigh stimulating your pulsing clit over your shorts. His words spurring you on to pleasure yourself on his leg. You had to bite your lip to prevent a moan.

"Did you think about me fucking you when looking at these pictures? Did you imagine if I looked like this after using you for my pleasure ?" 

You moaned, this was too much. He played you so easily, guiding your hips over his thigh. A few more thrusts and you came, his name on your lips. He chuckled. You didn't know what was so funny about the situation. 

Still coming down from your high, you climbed off his lap. 

"If I had known all it took for you to give in to me was a picture of me all sweaty, I would've invited you to the locker room after a match" he was still laughing. 

"Very funny. I'll have you know that I surprisingly stumbled upon these" You crossed your arms. How could he laugh ? Noticing that he was very much hard in his Barcelona Gym shorts, you looked away.

"So you don't want to fuck me? If so, then excuse me while I take care of myself." Pedri teased and got up in direction to his bedroom.

You followed him, wetness spreading uncomfortably between your thighs. 

"That's what I thought." he smirked and bent to slide your shorts and panties down. "C'mere" Pedri laid down on the pillows of his bed. You followed by crawling above him. 

"Higher" he ordered, pushing your hips towards him. You gave him a confused look and he winked "On my face, bonita" 

"You can hold me here, I've got you." Pedri lead your hands to grab his hair and you slowly sunk down. His nose hit your clit and you moaned. Grabbing your thighs, he pressed your weight onto his face. 

"Sit and don't you dare to hover. I decide when you've had enough." his mumbles vibrated against your flesh and you rubbed against his nose. 

His nose. You had always liked his nose.

"Mmmhh Pedri, your nose ... feels like heaven" you praised him and pulled on the brown strands. 

The grip on your thighs tightened when he started to use his tongue. He was really good. His tongue explored you as you rode him, purposely letting your clit bump against the tip of his nose. Moaning his name over and over again, Pedri switched between licking, sucking and kissing your most sensitive parts.

You came in no time, but Pedri didn't let you go, his deep voice vibrating against your clit. His tongue lapped up your juices, stimulating your still clenching insides. In the process he slapped your ass a few times, hard, making you buck against his face and pull at his hair even harder. 

Pedri seemed to enjoy this, stroking your thighs, making you come another time. The pleasure overcame you in waves, riding his face. 

Obviously, all this had an effect on Pedri too. He lifted your hips from his face and looked at you with a big grin. His face flushed under his eyes, lips and nose coated in your arousal. Your fingers moved to his neck.

"If I wouldn't be on the verge of coming inside my pants right now, I'd have you on my face for hours. Next time, amor, I promise." The brunette buried his face in your chest, almost like a hug, looking up at you. His cheekbones grazed your hard nipples, making you his and grind against him. You could feel his hardness against your butt.

"You're so beautiful." Pedri slowly removed your top, fingertips teasing your soft skin, creating goosebumps all over. As he wiped his face with your top, you climbed off him to get access to his manhood. When you slid his gym shorts down, his cock was already testing the stretch of his black slip. It looked painful. 

While you were still unsure on if you should free him, Pedri already got up to take off his remaining clothes, leaving you kneeling on the bed. 

His warm hand stroked up your ass cheek, finding the dip of your waist. "Bend forward, hermosa, take one of the pillows" 

"Yes, Pedro" You reached to get one of the pillows, and before you could position yourself , he was inside of you again.

"Say that again, bonita" He grunted, pace rough and slow, holding your hips in place.

"Pedro" It sounded like a plea and you buried your face into the pillow, as your friend snapped his hips inside of you, the soft cotton stimulating your sore nipples from the back and forth of your bodies.

He pulled your hair harshly, making you arch. "Again, bonita" 

"God, fuck- Pedro" Your voice was hoarse, eyes tearing up from the immense pleasure you were experiencing. 

He chuckled, bending over you, one hand finding your clit, as the other wrapped around your throat. You couldn't help but start nipping and licking the pad of his thumb on your lips, to keep your voice low, another orgasm building up. 

"God hmm, if that's how you see me, you've got a lot of worshipping to do" Pedri teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, his thrusts becoming harder, but teasingly slow, making you suck on his thumb, until his cock slipped out. You groaned, clenching around nothing.

He let go of your clit, to guide himself inside of you again, not before rubbing his tip over your sensitive bud. 

"You're gonna take all of my cum, carino. Your little, needy pussy is gonna take everything I'll give you." Pedri tightened the grip on your throat, feeling your heartbeat as you came, clenching around him. 

You felt him pump his seed inside you, calling your name. You tried to regain your breath, when he turned you over, plush lips ghosting up between your breasts to kiss you. A small peck. 

You watched him quietly, one knee between your legs. The muscles defining his stomach flexing, as he stretched to get your tank top, discarded on the headboard. Pedri's strong hands found your thighs and his index finger collected some of his release, before he wiped your pussy with your tanktop. The cotton burnt, as he rubbed it over your used flesh harshly, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

His chocolate brown eyes found yours, as he offered you his finger. You propped up on your elbows, taking his finger greedily, sucking it clean and he watched you. The action created a certain intimacy between you.

Looking at gifs of Pedri didn't seem so weird anymore.

A/N: Yo, I think their pizza is cold now.

The gifset I described : 🍌

Let me know what you think !

[crusty-chronicles]

BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Yusuke (Yu Yu Hakusho)

He likes to act like he's some callous tough guy, but really he's a huge softie.

Can get annoyed by your dullness, but other than that this boy is whipped

Yusuke is the furthest thing from book smart, but he's very street smart.

You on the other hand, aren't smart at all.

The amount of times he's had to pull you out of oncoming traffic is insane.

Not a single scratch on your either

But when HE wanders out in the street to get some kid's ball, he ends up getting hit by a car. 

Yusuke's known you since he and Keiko were in diapers. 

And even then he thought you were a strange kid.

I'm sorry? Did you just ask him if he could smell what purple tastes like??? While coloring with a red crayon?

You put your baby teeth under the bed? So the monsters don't get hungry???

No you cannot have some of his mother's ‘juice.’

He was never the best at making new friends, and you'd been around long enough for him to grow fond of your strange habits. So~he didn't mind you tagging along.

Especially when he'd reached junior high and his bad boy facade really ramped up.

Always getting into fights, always ditching school, always getting into trouble just because he could.

It should've come as no shock that you'd get after him for his behavior. Like the rest of the people in his life.

You'd caught him one day after school. Yusuke having been in a fight, which he of course was punished for by Iwamoto. Even though he wasn't the one that started it.

You had grabbed his arm, thinking he was skipping again.

But when he turned around you could see various scratches littering his face, along with a purple swelling under his eye.

“What happened?” You asked.

“None of your business.” He dismissed.

He was already having a bad day. He didn't need you to accidentally make it worse. Yet as always, you didn't seem to get the hint.

“Did you get into a fight?”

“I said it was none of your business.” He snapped before adding, “Not like I need another lecture today.” 

Keiko had chewed him out enough, and he still had his mom to deal with at home. And now you wanted to nag him too? Great. Just great.

He waited for the inevitable “How could you be so careless!” And, “What were you thinking!”

Instead he was met with silence.

He looked up and noticed your hurt expression before you turned to leave.

Instantly he started to panic.

For whatever reason, he couldn't stand to see you upset at him. You, who always had something to say with your dopey smile. Who always tried to help even if you didn't know how.

No, he didn't like your downcast expression at all.

So this time it was him stopping you.

“Hey! I didn't mean it like that…Look, I got jumped, okay? But I put those bastards in their place, so don't worry about it.” He decided to test his luck and hug you.

When you didn't tense up or pull away, he allowed himself to relax against you.

 “Let's just go home.” 

“Okay…Wait, does that mean we're having a sleepover?”

He gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to his house.

Safe to say he's got a huge soft spot for you.

Your spirit awareness is even higher than Kuwabara’s.

You were probably the only person who could see Yusuke's ghost floating around after he died.

Asking him “why are you haunting my house?” 

He figures he might as well explain his situation, much to Botan's dismay. But when was he to ever care about the rules.

It's during that time he finally gets to see you fight.

10/10 your biggest cheerleader.

He'd asked you to watch over Kuwabara when the doofus had promised not to fight for a whole week.

You two got along well, which wasn't surprising considering you had not a single brain cell to spare for hostility.

It wasn't long before the two of you were cornered by a rival junior high gang. You'd told Kuwabara to run on ahead and that you'd catch up.

That was when the leader decided to run his mouth. What would inevitably be his undoing.

“Now that Urameshi’s dead, this turf is ripe for the taking.”

It was probably the first time Yusuke's ever seen you actually mad.

“What did you say?” 

One minute. That's all it took for you to beat the gang of seven.

Using one of them like a bowling ball and throwing him towards the rest of them.

All the while Yusuke is cheering in the background above you.

“Aim for the kneecaps! You got them, Y/n! Toss the bastard again!”

He's very proud of you. And his pride only swells when your strength grows along with his.

Joining the dark tournament and still kicking ass. Winning most of your matches with hardly a scratch. Except for Toguro. We don't talk about that shhhh!

Like I said he can get annoyed, but he usually puts up really well with your antics.

You call Kurama rose boy, not because of his powers, but because as you put it, “His hair’s the color of roses.”

It fits, but for the wrong reasons.

You steal Hiei's bandage around his eye, and Yusuke is practically fighting for his life to stop him from attacking you.

“You're supposed to look someone in the eyes when you talk to them. All your eyes.”

And he's crying trying to stop his laughter before Hiei sets his sights on him next.

You once mimicked his spirit gun with your hand and actually shot out a beam.

His mother never did let him live it down with the huge hole in the ceiling.

The realization he liked you wasn't some great build up or special moment. 

He just woke up one day and decided it was you. 

His reason for trying to be a little better as a person. Why he was fighting so hard during both tournaments. Why he was so willing to die in his battle with Sensui.

He doesn't get the chance to confess. No…You do it first.

Right after he'd won and became in control of his body after defeating Sensui, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him.

Pressing your forehead softly to his.

“I'm so happy you're okay.”

Yusuke can get jealous, especially if the other person doesn't get the hint.

And if someone's flirting with you before you're together. 

He likes to glare over your shoulder until they get nervous and leave. Then he'll feign an innocent look when you turn around.

But if he's with people he trusts, he doesn't bat an eye. They know he'll throw down over your affections.

Yusuke can be romantic, but only when he really tires. Usually he prefers to tease you.

Expect to be called: babe, baby, sugar, hot stuff, and if he's feeling really vulnerable- sweetheart.

If he wants to be a menace to everyone around him he'll slip in a ‘pookiebear.’ But never unironically.

You know how he proposes to Keiko at the end of the series?

With you he knows a normal proposal won't work. So he just kinda puts the idea out there.

“You're gonna have to buy your own cups when we're married. It's getting harder and harder to find ones that fit with our house’s aesthetic.”

"We should have a beach house wedding, dont’cha think? Maybe Hiei will finally show up that way."

“Y/n? You mean my wife/husband? The love of my life?”

And it pays off.

You bring him a little box one day and tell him to open it.

Inside is a small gold ring.

“I found a ring so we can be married for real!” 😃

Yup, you're definitely the one. You and your small brain and big heart.

MASTERLIST

AN: I'm gonna try and balance out my hxh and yu yu hakusho fics so everyone eats good. 👀👀👀

[love-islike-abomb]

Girls, girls, girls

Roman reigns x Alexis (OC)

I've been working in this day by day, adding a paragraph or 2 each day. Writers block sucks! The worm moon has thrown me all off!!

Warnings: smut, bratting, errors I may have missed

Word count: 956

Tag list: @reignsangel444 @acknowledge-reigns @mzv11 @marchm-langdon @mandeelemons @pittieprincess22 @romanreignshairdresser @tribalauthor @undisputedjf @weirdgirl16355 @adriennegabriella @cnsrmnwwe @foreverlyjay @helensanders92

______

The night lights of Las Vegas were always drawing people. If the casino walls could talk they would tell stories of crazy nights of parties, sex, drugs, and rock n roll. The secrets they held are what make the saying "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!"

The aura of the desert was mystical and often times provided a place darkness to ensue. The desert was home to more bodies then anywhere else in the country. From people simply getting lost and perishing from lack of water to the more sinister Mafia murders. The desert was unforgiving, merciless, and told no tales.

Bodies disappeared in the sand, never to be seen again. Yet this was the place I called home. I had come in some hard times and ended up as a stripper. I was use to drunk men trying to cop a feel. The other girls didn't really seem to acknowledge the danger of the situation. The security guards tried but there was always one or two they missed.

Several of the guys that came in wanted lap dances but only one caught my attention. I was lucky enough to have a boss who understood that if I didn't feel comfortable with someone or didn't like the vibe they gave off, she didn't force me to entertain them "I see who you've been eyeing Alexis and might I say damn girl you've got taste!" My coworker Alicia said "if you're lucky enough he'll take you home!" She winked at me.

"and what makes you so sure it's him I've been eyeing?" I asked crossing my arms.

"I've watched you take glimpses of him every so often and get that bright smile that only you yet when you think a guy is hot!" She smirked

Touchè!

"and he's been undressing you with his eyes every Time you turn back around to wipe off the tables!" She smiled "I'll take care of the other one!"

Alicia went to the other man and I heard them talking. I hadn't told Alicia or really anyone that I had been dating someone. It was to keep a low profile since he was a celebrity. I didn't tell her i knew who he was and he knew who I was. I was surprised she didn't recognize him.

I walked in the room "hey handsome how-" I stopped when I saw the room was empty. I looked around before I felt a hand go over my mouth "hey baby girl!" He whispered.

He moved his hand away "I should've known you'd be up to something!" I giggled.

"you look sexy in that outfit! You'd look even sexier with it on the floor and my face between your thighs" he growled in my ear. Thinking in the moment I rubbed my ass against him earning a low groan "baby girl... Don't tease! I don't want to have to punish you!"

"but what if I want punished?" I said with an innocent smile.

He put his hand on my throat "I'll fuck you right here and make you scream!" He growled.

"please daddy?" I pouted.

"lock the door" he said. I bit my lip, I always loved it when the exhibitionist in him showed itself. Honestly I didn't care if we did get caught and even if we did, we're in a strip club and a private room. What are they really gonna be able to do?

"sit" I said, a smirk forming on my face.

"oh you're giving orders now huh?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

"why not?" I smiled, leaning towards his ear "you might enjoy it!"

A smirk formed on his face "I'll let you have your fun for now"

"Alexa! Play girls girls girls by motley Crue!" I smiled. As the opening riff played he stood up, lifting me up with him. I smiled, earning a deep chuckle from him "you really thought I was gonna let you order me around?" He said with a low growl "you're mine!"

I bit my lip before I felt the cold wall against my back "how long has it been since i've made you feel good baby girl? How long has it been since I've felt that hot pussy on my cock?" He growled, kissing down my neck. He grabbed my panties and tore them off before dropping his sweatpants, sliding himself inside me, both of us letting out groans of pleasure "uhn, so wet, so tight! You've been a good girl while I've been gone!" He growled "are you my good girl?"

"yes daddy!" I groaned.

"fuck I love it when you call me that!" He growled, his thrusts picking up speed. It took everything I had not to scream "let it go baby! I can feel you're getting close! The way that pussy is gripping my cock you're gonna drain me dry! Milk my cock baby girl!" He growled.

Fuck! The deep growls he was letting out made a shiver run down my spine. I felt my body release and dug my nails into his back "uhn! That's my good girl! Fuck!" His growls sounded like he was enjoying the pain. "Uhn fuck baby girl! I'm gonna fill that pussy up!" He growled.

His thrusts got sloppy and I felt him and twitch inside me. A few last sloppy thrusts and he stilled, both of us trying to catch our breath "I love you!" I smiled.

"I love you to baby girl!" He smiled back, slowly pulling out of me, setting my feet on the ground. He pulled his sweatpants back up "I wanna ask you something" he said "do you wanna travel with me on the road?"

I smiled from ear to ear "do you really even need to ask?"

[piscispd]

—                HEY NOW, WE'LL BE OKAY.      ->    hhu.

“I don't care, I love you anyhow. It is too late to turn you out of my heart. Part of you lives there.” — a self portrait in letters × anne sexton.

Their parents don't approve your relationship. After a night where things don’t go as planned, the boys are left mending your broken heart.

wc: 1,6k overall. a/n: i focused more on their reaction after the fight, so this is them easing reader's insecurities! if you wanted something else lmk! im editing this later~ warnings/tags: gn reader, fluff, hurt/comfort. request!

You both barely step foot inside your place before he opens his mouth, like he was waiting impatiently for some privacy to fix talk.

“You’re overthinking, love.” Seungcheol scolds, hands on his hips as he stares at you with a disapproving look, akin to his father’s.

You shiver at the thought, reminiscing tonight’s failure as you shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Are so,” he pouts, linking his arms around your waist. “And you need to stop doing it, whatever your pretty head is thinking about right now, stop it.”

You click your tongue, rolling your eyes. “There’s nothing else to think about after tonight, Cheol, is there.”

It’s a bitter remark, not a question. You sound defeated and utterly sad, and his heart breaks a little seeing you in this shape, but Seungcheol is having none of it. He grabs you by the shoulders, his gaze burning you. “Don't you dare say that again. Don’t you tell me we don't belong together, like they said, just because they said it. I love you, and if you don't love me back, you can look at me in the eyes and say it.”

Silence. Cheol’s looking at you dead in the eye, intensely, yet so lovingly and gently because he can’t scold you for real, not really, and that’s so undoubtedly him that it makes your head all dizzy. “Jeez,” you chuckle, shaking your head with a heart much lighter.

“Can't say it, can you?”

“I love you,” you smile, gently. “I won't lie to you, Cheol.”

“But why do you look like you wanna cry,” he pouts, “am I making you sad?”

“No, I was sad, but– you make me feel like we could make this work. Like you’re reliable and I should count on you.”

“So you weren’t counting on me before?”

“Cheol.”

There's a childish mirth in his eyes as he smiles reassuringly, slowly linking his hands around you. “You should do that. You should've been doing that, because that's what I am.”

His hands are cold on your waist, so you caress them with your own, even if yours are a bit colder. He hugs you completely, aligning your body to his until there isn't a hair of yours untouched, unprotected. Kissing your forehead, he sways you both side to side. “I’m your boyfriend,” he chides lightly, his tone more serious now. “And the only thing that’s going to change that is a ring on your finger, nothing and no one else will, understand?”

His heart skips a beat when he sees you smile, all bright and happy and so pretty he wants to eat you. He wants to watch you forever. As his strong arms squeeze your middle, his breathing soft against your neck, you sigh longingly at the feeling. “Yeah, I got it.”

“You know, I had a dream about you last night.” Vernon says suddenly, breaking the silence.

It's the first time he's talked to you ever since you came back from that interesting meeting with his parents, an hour ago.

He’s sitting right next to you on your bed, but you don’t look at him. You’re avoiding it, really, because the second you do you’re going to beg him to stay and forget all about tonight, you’re gonna beg and plead that you’ll be able to work it all out together. That you needed him.

You bite your lip at the thought. You can’t do that– not after what transpired a few hours earlier with his family. You can’t be so selfish, can you?

So you keep looking at your phone, ignoring his sigh– Vernon is a stubborn dude, though, so he faces straightforward and keeps his train of thought.

“Listen, we were in a house with this big yard– big, babe. Huge. We could bring all my members and their families and there'll still be space, I think,” he rambles on, making you lean towards him uncounsciously, attentive to his next words. “It was ours. I mean, it felt like it was. You would've liked it.”

“What's your point,” you mumble grumpily.

“My family was there with us,” he ignores your interruption, smiling reminiscent. “My dad was laughing at something on the tv and my mom was cutting us some fruit. She was trying to get your mbti right, you know that personality test I’ve been telling you about? Seriously, I don't know what devil type you got, but she was arguing with you over it and I was telling her that on the flip side, your zodiac sign matches perfectly with mine– because there's no one better for me than you.”

Insane. He’s very questionable on most days, but right now he sounds a little insane as you ask him, dumbfoundedly, “Babe, what the hell are you on about?”

He shrugs. “Just trying to prove my point.”

You want to cry. You can’t believe he started talking about anything just to make you feel better about tonight, so you allow yourself to lean fully against his side and let your tears fall.

Vernon lets you cry on him, leaning back towards you. He hugs you, slowly, his hands tenderly taking a hold of you, and that leads to new, fresh tears— but you can't bring yourself to raise your arms and hold him back.

(Hold him back. Maybe that's what you were doing without knowing, maybe there is someone out there who's better suited for him and his family's expectations, maybe, maybe, maybe.)

“Hey.”

You look up at him, eyelashes damp and a frown on your face as if to ask what, making him grin and brush your tears away with his thumb.

“You heard what I said, right? There's no one better for me than you. That won't change, I promise.”

In, out. The sound of his breathing was calming, the growing darkness of the late night a protective veil around the both of you, little night birds singing far away. He grins at you, gently but widely like he has all the answers you need, like just staying by his side is the answer.

“We can work this out,” he continues soflty. “What we can't do is have you all sad thinking you're anything but it for me, alright? C'mon, they'll get round.”

You scoff, still feeling uneasy. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. I do know that, because I know them and I know you,” he states firmly. “And I’ll tell you a secret, they'll eventually come around, and I will make that dream come true. Since we’re being cheesy, you wanna hear another secret? I love you.”

“You're really doing the most,” you chuckle despite yourself, letting him cuddle you against his chest and kiss your head. Vernon was right, and you wanted to believe him, so you tell him back, “Okay. I love you too.”

His phone rings with a text from his sister a few hours later, once he’s already fast asleep in your arms. It reads, “— you got this, bro!! ♡”

Mingyu is talking the minute he gets out of the house, walking side by side with you.

“It's okay,” he smiles, trying to cheer you up. “I didn't like you at first either.”

You smack him in the arm, chuckling nervously at him. He grins and links your arms back together, smiling fondly at you. “What? Now I can't live without you. It's a good omen, if you ask me.”

You’re not sure what to make of tonight. Should you answer to his easy going response with the same energy? Should you tell him about his wrong use of the word omen?

“What if it never happens? If they never... like me?” would you leave me then?, you’re too afraid of his answer to blatantly ask, but Mingyu knows how to read between the lines. At least around you.

“That’s a little dramatic, babe, am I rubbing off on you too much?” he teases, like it's no big deal for him, and you don’t know how to feel about that. “You'll grow on them.”

“Like fungus?”

“Like fungus. Just like you did with me.”

You try to smile again, but it's forced. You don't feel good, so you sigh and lean against his arm.

Mingyu is trying his best here. He wants you to know that even if his own President Moon were to ask him today to leave your side he would tell him no.

Maybe. Maybe he'll change names and run away with you, or plan a misterious hit on his nation’s president. Either way, he's not leaving you behind, that's his point. Is it so hard to believe?

He thought that joking was a clear way to tell you hey, I love you, no matter what people say– even if it makes me a bit sad, I'm staying with you.

But you look sad, and it's making Mingyu sweat a little, so he tries a new way to approach it.

“Everything is difficult at first,” he says under his breath. “We just need to keep going at it until they get it, okay? Together.”

You shake your head slightly, such a small, barely perceptible movement that it could be mistaken for a twitch. But Mingyu knows you better than anyone else on the planet, he thinks, and his heart squeezes painfully once he realizes that was a dejected head shake.

“Babe,” he stops walking, his arms encasing you tentatively, his face ghosting on your hair and the familiar scent of your shampoo. “No need to dwell on it, really. I want to make it easier for them, but if they can’t see how great you are, it’s their loss. It’s not like I’ll stop bringing you around or anything. I’m selfish like that, you know. You’re kinda stuck with me.”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand admittedly more relaxed, his truthful words licking your wounded heart. “What a terrible destiny.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “Shockingly, I've heard of people having it worse.”

You laugh loudly at his pout, cuddling him and stealing all his warmth. “I love you too. Thank you.”

He doesn't let go of your hand the entire walk back home.

Wonwoo was excited for tonight, and in consequence, so were you. He didn't expect their rude behavior at all, his face growing drier and more defensive as the hours ticked by. Finally, after hearing him say “We’ll get going,” in the coldest voice you’ve ever heard from him, you pick up your stuff with tense shoulders and leave.

Once you reach that godforsaken doorstep, Wonwoo tells you to wait in the car with a parting kiss on your forehead.

“But–”

“No buts,” he says sternly. “I have things to say to them, it won’t take too long. Put some of your music on, alright?”

“Okay,” you agree bregudgely, frowning. “You’ll come back, right?”

Wonwoo's stare softens at of your small voice, grabbing your hands to kiss them, lingering for a moment too long before letting you go. “Don’t worry too much, it's not like they'll do anything to me.”

He comes back to the car exactly ten minutes later, his raven hair a mess on his forehead and he grips the steering wheel so strongly his knuckles turn white, jaw clenched.

It’s only when you arrive home that he confronts you. Your knees are moving the car, shaking up and down, and he’s back to being so quiet and serious you’re half expecting him to tell you to get out and never come back.

Once you finally open your mouth to break the tense silence, he suddenly calls your name. “I'm sorry.”

You gape at him, words stuck in your throat when you notice the intense look on his face. “It's okay,” you gulp. “I. I understand if you want to leave– maybe we should just... accept the inevitable.”

You’re looking down at your hands, missing the raw panic in Wonwoo’s face. “What?”

“I said, maybe we should consider this, I mean, us. Our relationship–”

Wonwoo's stomach goes cold. “No, no. No one's leaving. I’m not leaving you,” he interrupts you in a frenzy, cupping your face and looking so vulnerable you feel the urge to cry.

“Listen, I'm sorry they were out of line. But what they think doesn't change what I feel for you. You were great, you are great, the greatest, and I love you. Don’t jump into conclusions– don't worry about them too much.”

You shake your head between his hands, still hang up on it. “I don’t want you to fight with them for this.”

“We didn't fight.”

You look at him incredulously. Wonwoo raises his chin, childishly stubborn. “We didn't fight, we just... talked. About manners, politely, like family should talk. And I would do it even if it were anyone else, because if you’re hurting, I’m hurting, alright? I can’t just leave it alone, (YN).”

It’s a hot Friday night in Seoul, fancy cars are passing through yours in a blink, unaware of your heart beating painfully against your ribs, thump thump thumping while Wonwoo takes your hand and kisses the palm of it, his lips pressing on the softness of your skin. “Am I being too much?”

“No,” you chuckle wetly, grabbing and squeezing his hand in return. “No, you’re good. Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Me too,” you feel him squeeze your hands gently before he leans over to kiss you, lingering on your lips. You smile against him when you hear car horns outside, and he begrudgingly pulls away. “Let’s go inside. It's been a long night.”

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

003

Genre : fluff, the ending's a bit angsty tho.

Summary : In which you're sick. And Miguel's soft.

Request/idea by: lassiraa (didn;t know if she wanted to be tagged oops)

Wordcount: 1.3k lol

Miguel O’hara Masterlist

Miguel glances at his phone yet again, admittedly a little worried. The cute cafe you work at had been busy today, filled to the brim with customers. When you had texted him earlier that you would be late for your movie night, he understood. In return, he had replied that he could eventually pick you up, asking at what time you would be done. You haven't responded though, probably too occupied with cleaning the place.

It's thankfully not too late just yet, but it's started raining dogs and cats since about an hour back. He just hopes you'll catch the bus to HQ.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait all too long, a sudden knock at his door sounding through his room.

His room is admittedly bigger than the other spiders' rooms who stay. His looking more like an apartment, the only thing missing is a livingroom and a diningroom. It's basically a small studio apartment.

It doesn't take him long to open the door. The first thing he notices when he does so is that you're completely drenched. 

He sighs as he lets you in.

" Why didn't you take the bus? " He asks, going straight to the point.

" Because I would have to wait more than thirty minutes. Walking was faster. Hello to you too by the way." You roll your eyes.

He doesn't miss the shivering of your body.

" Yeah, hey. You should've called me. " He scolds you, yet again.

" Yeah, yeah. I won't die from a little rain Miguel, relax." You tell him, before sniffing once you've taken your shoes off.

The two of you suddenly find yourself in a bit of an awkward stare. The one where his thoughts are running through his head and you're really trying to figure it out without communicating.

' Yeah. she's going to be sick tomorrow.'

'Bet he's thinking about throwing some pizzas in'

" Are you thinking of pizzas?"  You ask him, making him blink.

" Yes, totally. Go shower while I throw them in the oven." He tells you, turning his back to you.

You blink, confused. You don't have a change of your clothes lying around at his place. However, before any words can leave your now opened mouth, a bunch of clothes are thrown at you, along with a towel.

" Just wear my stuff, I don't care. Just don't want your ass sick in the morning." He says, hurriedly walking into the kitchen.

That was a lie, he actually very much does care. Especially about you wearing his stuff.

Miguel is a domestic man, especially after all he's been through. The idea of the two of you hanging out, cuddling up like you sometimes do, whilst wearing his clothes creates a pleasant image in his head.

It doesn't take long before you're out of the shower, and soon enough the two of you are eating pizza whilst arguing over what movie to watch. Eventually (after a whole while, the pizzas are actually already through), the two of you set on watching an action film.

And as the two of you move to sit on his bed like usual, he notices you glancing at him a little more than usual.

" What is it?" He asks as he glances back at you.

" Can we cuddle?" You ask him, biting your lip.

He gives you a smile as he nods.

" Sure."

He hopes you don't notice the slight blush on his cheeks.

-

When he wakes the next morning, he notices a few things. One, you're pressed up to his side, cuddling into his large frame, your face buried in his chest. Two, how well rested he feels. It's been a good while since he felt like this. And three, you're way too hot to not be sick.

With a soft sigh, he contemplates on his decision. He wants to stay home to take care of you, but he's also supposed to look for anomalies a few floors down.

It's embarrassing how quick he actually manages to make a decision. 

Would it even be worth fighting for the multiverse if you aren't in his?

And so he finds himself putting together an amount of hologram screens and such to be able to work from his apartment.

It takes a while before you wake up, but when you do, you merely turn on your ass and fall back asleep in a ridiculous position again. However, not too long after that, you wake again, looking around a little confused whilst you sit up. You wrap the blanket closer around you, wrapping yourself completely up in it with the exception of your face.

" Hm?" 

" I feel like a boiled sausage." You grunt in annoyance, before flopping down on his bed again.

He can't help but smile.

" I'm afraid you're sick, Perla." He tells you.

You curl up.

" What? No I'm not. Feel great'." You grumble sarcastically.

He shakes his head.

" What would you like for breakfast?" He asks in return.

You let out a dramatic sigh.

" Nothing, my stumic feels queasy- Wait, since when are you able to work from up here?" You ask, noticing he now actually has a chair in his room. And a desk. And a lot of screens.

" Since today. And still, you should eat." He says as he gets up.

Whilst he walks off to do whatever, you take a moment to study his new set up. You've never really paid any attention to his work before, not really liking 'office work' as you tend to call it. A moment later he returns, a plate with food in hand. He hands it to you wordlessly. You get up from his bed to eat (you're not a psycho).

" Soo, am I helping with work today?" You ask him, leaning onto his chair from behind him. You try to ignore the obvious shivers of your skin. You definitely have a fever.

He glances at you.

" No. You're going to lie down and rest. I'm going to work." He tells you before he gets up.

To your utter suprise, he turns to you, his huge posture suddenly looming over yours. With gentle hands, he leads you backwards to his bed, your knees bending when the back of your legs touch the bed. He bends down to maneuver the rest of your body onto the bed, getting you to lay sideways. He tucks you in aswell, before the two of you end up staring awkwardly at one another yet again.

" G'night." He greets you, before turning to his hologram screens again.

You watch him work for a moment, studying the screens as well. There's nothing interesting currently happening. It doesn't take long before you doze off.

Miguel watches you once you've fallen asleep fondly. He's really falling further and further into the feelings he's hiding for you. In moments like this, he believes he could do it. Maybe he could be happily in a relationship with you while also helping the multiverse. He shakes his head, running his hands over his face before sighing deeply. What the hell is he starting to think about? He's spiderman. He can't have you, no matter how bad he wants you.

With another deep sigh, he makes a hard decision.

He has to create space between the two of you.

[ A/N: Next update'll take a while, I'm on a vacay with my mum for next week so see ya'll after that.]

004

000 - Taglist

@adamsloverboy​

@ihateuguys​

@alchemist421​

[en-geneisaxx]

'Please don't say that this the end for us...'

Pairings: Husband!Hoon x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing (you're gonna be on a rollercoaster of emotions)

Feat. Jay, Heeseung and Jake of Enhypen, Yeji (Sunghoon's sister), Jin Ae (Y/n and Sunghoon's child)

Tagging my moots who wanted to read: @pockettwinzz @diorsyun @heeslomll @heeslut4life @hoonieshoneymain @rinbowaman

A/n: OMG, I'M SO DAMN EXCITED, THIS WILL BE THE FIRST FIC I MAKE. BASICALLY MY DEBUT TO THE ENHABLR WRITER WORLD. I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL ENJOY!!

(Likes, reblogs and/or following me will be much appreciated!!)

Part 1:

Cheating was something you would never do. The thought of going from one man to another, kissing lips that had probably lost its virginity to another woman killed you.

'JAKE, YOU'RE AN ABSOLUTE DICK, YOU KNOW THAT!?' *Ends call*

You grab a fistful of your hair in fustration, vision blurring as tears threatened to escape.

'𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤.'

You wanted to disappear for the first time in your marriage. Why did you have to be in such a position?

Your heart clenched, lungs filled with such pressure that it made it impossible to breathe. You wanted to scream until you heard your child's confused blabbering.

'Eomma?'

She stands; soft, chubby hands cling to the white, painted wooden frame of her crib. Head tilted, gleaming eyes and perfect looks she got from her father stare at you.

With pity, you pick her up, sitting on the edge of your shared bed, nuzzling your head in the plush material. Alas, locked emotions rain from your eyes, staining the luxury clothes bought by none other than your husband himself.

'𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆...'

Those words clear up your fogged mind, consciousness crystal clear.

'𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒇𝒖𝒍...'

It was until then, you realised your kind-hearted child was kissing away those salty teardrops on your cheeks. You were suprised, how she was so alike to her father. Yet, you were grateful: he was amazing, of course.

'Hey Y/n, I-' His eyes widen, struck by the state you were in.

'WHAT THE FRICK HAPPENED HERE!?'

You were thankfuk Jay came. After all, he was Jin Ae's favourite uncle, so she'll be busy with him.

'Sunghoon still hasn't come back...' You sob, desperate for your husband to just hug you tight, professing his unending love for you.

'Something really has happened, hm?'

Jin Ae claps and giggles, oblivious to the saddening situation that took place. What could you expect from a two-year-old? She may be smart, but she still had a long way to go.

'Jin Ae-ah! Come to Uncle Jay.' He exclaims, forcing a smile.

'*groans* What's happening? First, I hear y/n shouting, now you're here. Oh, isn't it your daily get-together with Hoon?'

'Should've been, yeah.'

You were bewildered with the unexpected presence of the sister.

'Yeji, when did you get here? I don't remember you being here yesterday...'

'Hoon called me to look after you two. Actually, that's strange. Sunghoon would never leave you two...

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫.'

You could pass out with the way you couldn't control your breathing. But it was the thought of finding your husband that kept you going.

'Jay...do you know where Sunghoon could be?'

'Your the wife here, not me.' He says sarcastically, yelping when Yeji slapped him.

'YAH, YOU SINGLE ASS UNCLE, DON'T MAKE FUN OF THE SITUATION. No wonder why you still got no bitches.'

'MIND THE LANGUAGE, WE GOT A CHILD HERE, DUMMY.'

You couldn't care less about the situation, just focused on finding your car keys before heading downstairs, grabbing a jacket on the go.

*buzz*

Frantically, you look for your phone, stumbling at times due to the lack of sleep.

(Calling:Heeseung)

You figured he was calling because he saw the 10 missed calls at 3am.

'Hey Hee, sorry for-'

'Meet me at the backgarden.'

A/n: GONNA DO PART TWO TOMORROW. IT'S JUST THAT I GOT TO WAKE UP IN LIKE 5 HOURS TIME