#not feeling up to social interactions much today

[theunsinkableship1]

LOVE SEASON IS "FINNALY" HERE!

DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Do not read if you're not a shipper. This is PURELY FICTIONAL. No harm intended.

It was a quiet Friday evening, and Nicola was packing up her things in her trailer after another long day on set, lost in thoughts of how much things had changed. She missed the parties she used to host during their season, Fridays used to mean champagne and enjoyment with the cast and crew, but now, all she wanted was to get home, and above all she missed Luke, she missed sharing the make-up trailer with him, those were times filled with laughter and fun. Now, every moment around Luke felt heavy, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and heartbreak. The past weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, and she had managed to maintain her composure only by keeping her interactions with Luke mostly professional rekindling their friendship little by little. It had been incredibly difficult; they had just filmed their first intimate scenes as a couple for the new season, and although the professional side of their job was completed, the emotional undercurrent between them lingered like a charged atmosphere. Nicola had to keep her emotions in check every time their eyes met; the unspoken history between them was palpable. The way Luke’s touch felt against her skin, the warmth of his breath on her face, and the closeness that once felt so natural now sent her heart racing. Each kiss, though scripted, felt like a battle against her own desires; she had to catch herself from slipping into old feelings, holding back the urge to fully immerse herself in the familiar comfort of his embrace.Nicola often felt sad and uneasy in Luke's absence, like a piece of her life was missing. Without him, there was a constant sense of imbalance, as if something crucial was out of place. Luke had always made her feel secure, confident, and grounded. His presence boosted her energy, allowing her to live more fully and embrace happiness. With him, everything seemed lighter; he brought strength into her life that she couldn’t find on her own. His support made her feel unstoppable, and being with him just made everything better. She fought hard to maintain her composure, to remind herself that this was just a role, but every scene brought them closer, blurring the lines between performance and the raw emotions that still simmered beneath the surface. She had gathered all strength she had left to endure these first weeks. She had been friendly, and everything went well but that was it for today, she needed to recharge, she was exhausted

For Luke, watching Nicola from a distance had been a daily torment. He had seen her light up screens and stages, but now she was different with him, he could feel the space that was created between them, she was even more guarded than before. Even when she smiled or looked and him, he knew that she was reserved, it wasn’t the same He missed the carefree way they used to be around each other, the late-night laughs, and the unspoken bond they once shared. But his summer had been full of mistakes, missed opportunities, and an overwhelming realization that Nicola was the one person he couldn’t let go of. Luke also had remained professional, friendly but he was also acting as if nothing had changed, slowly approaching her more and more every day.

Before the filming days, Luke’s state of mind was a tangled mix of longing, regret, and jealousy, fueled by the glimpses he got of her summer through social media posts. Each update photos with friends and fans, scenic shots from events, and the occasional candid moment, although it filled him with joy was also like a punch to his gut, reminding him of what he had lost. Seeing her seemingly happy, surrounded by people, made his insecurities flare up. He couldn’t help but obsess over every detail: her smiles, the new faces beside her, the places she went. It all felt like a reminder that she was moving on, finding joy and connections without him. Luke’s imagination ran wild, envisioning her with someone else, and it drove him to the brink of desperation. His jealousy wasn’t just about who she was with but about the life she seemed to be building without him, a life that, not long ago, he had been a part of. He had called her in the summer, and though their conversations were warm, Nicola kept a noticeable distance. Luke had seen the songs she chose to share online, each lyric and melody feeling like they were meant for him. Her subtle support, the quiet ways she showed she still cared, made him fall for her even more deeply. But doubt gnawed at him; he couldn’t be sure if the messages were really about him or just wishful thinking. He clung to the hope that there was still a chance for them, but uncertainty loomed large, he didn’t know if he still had a place in her heart.

Seeing Nicola again during rehearsals and filming hit Luke harder than he expected. She tried to avoid him whenever possible, only spending the bare minimum amount of time required for their scenes or work-related tasks. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, Luke was constantly seeking opportunities to get closer, to reconnect, but Nicola kept slipping away, maintaining her distance and making herself elusive. Each time he thought he had a chance to bridge the gap, she would subtly evade him, retreating before he could truly reach her. He could feel her slipping through his fingers, running away just as he tried to draw near, leaving him frustrated yet more determined to break through her defenses. Her presence stirred a mix of longing and regret inside him; she looked so beautiful, radiant, focused, and guarded, maintaining a polite "pal" distance that reminded him just how far apart they’d drifted. Every stolen glance, every soft smile she gave to others, reminded him of how he loved to hear her speak, how much he had missed her scent, the closeness they once shared and now seemed lost. Without her, life was so draining, he felt at ease in her presence, it reminded him how little he had laughed without her.

During rehearsals and on set, Luke tried to bridge the emotional gap, using every moment of their scripted closeness as an opportunity to reconnect. He leaned into their scenes, savoring the way her laughter sounded, the familiar touch of her hand in his, and the subtle electric charge that still sparked between them. In unguarded moments, he would linger near her, trying to reignite the warmth and ease they once had, hoping she could feel the sincerity in every look and gesture. He missed her terribly, and being this close again, hearing her voice, feeling her body, only fueled his determination to find his way back into her heart, though he knew it would take time and patience to break through the walls she had put up.

Nicola and Luke were cautiously trying to rebuild their friendship, navigating the fragile ground between what they once had and what they now were. Nicola was always supportive of Luke, never letting past wounds interfere with her genuine concern for his well-being. Luke appreciated her maturity, recognizing how she never acted petty or held grudges, but instead, offered kindness that reassured him during his moments of self-doubt. He found solace in her presence, feeling a comfort that he had missed deeply, but he could also feel the lingering distance between them. While he cherished their time together, jealousy gnawed at him, especially when he thought about Nicola’s close friend, the one she often spent time with, the one he’d seen in social media posts. He wanted to be the one she turned to, her first call, her safe space. The thought of her sharing those moments with someone else stung. Luke realizing with each passing day that he wanted to be more than just a friend to her; he wanted to be her priority, just as he had discovered she was his. The ache in his chest reminded him that, despite all the progress they had made, his feelings for her were far from platonic.

Torn between the fear of rejection and the burning need to reconnect, Luke realized he couldn’t stand on the sidelines any longer. He had to take the risk, reach out, and try to reclaim what they once had, even if it meant facing the painful truth of her moving on.

A sudden knock interrupted Nicola’s thought, startling her. Without thinking, she opened the door, expecting a crew member. Instead, there he was, Luke dressed casually with a white t-shirt and black jeans, but the tension in his posture was evident, looking up to her with an expression that she couldn't quite place. His brows were knitted together, jaw tight, and his attempt at a smile seemed strained. She thought to herself what now? But she was an actress, and she had to be a great one now. Nicola, confident and in good spirits, tilted her head with curiosity.

"Luke, what’s up?" she asked with a light-hearted chuckle, trying to ease the tension she felt radiating from her insides.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice tinged with a frustration she hadn’t heard from him before.

Nicola hesitated but she said «Sure, come in,", stepping aside., gesturing for him to enter. Luke walked in, looking around her trailer as if searching for the right words. He finally turned to her, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

"How was the rest of your summer?" he asked abruptly. It was the first personal question he’d asked this week. Nicola raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his sudden interest.

"It was… great," she said cautiously, trying to read his mood. "I worked, met some great people, and had a lot of fun. You?"

Luke shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Alright. You’ve seen most of it… I’ve seen some of yours too," he added, his tone edged with something she couldn’t quite place.

Luke hesitated before blurting out, "I saw that you were in Malta… "

Nicola’s heart skipped a beat at his words, her defenses rising. "Yeah, well, I’ve been busy," she started to say, but Luke cut her off, his voice softer now.

"Nic…" he said gently, and the sound of her name from his lips made her heart lurch.

She looked up, meeting his eyes, feeling the familiar pull between them. But she held her ground, not willing to be swayed by his vulnerability.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Nicola blinked, taken aback by the question. "Seriously, did he really ask that? Knowing what he did? she was getting angry. Why was he bringing this up now? Luke had already apologized and that was it. She had thought they had moved past this.

Nicola’s patience was wearing thin. Anger simmered beneath her calm exterior. How could he ask that now, after everything? She straightened her posture, refusing to let him see how deeply his question rattled her.

"Luke, you don’t get to ask me that," she said firmly. "Not after everything."

Luke’s mind raced. He knew he had messed up, that he had let his fears and doubts drive a wedge between them. But seeing her with someone else, knowing that she could move on without him, was unbearable.

“Answer me please “He insisted.

"I am happy," she answered firmly. "And I’m also exhausted. So, if there’s nothing else …"

Luke moved closer; his expression pained. "I need to know... are you dating him?" He took a deep breath, his frustration spilling over. "Nic, I can’t keep pretending. I’ve made mistakes but seeing you with him… it’s driving me crazy. "I need to know... are you dating him?"

Nicola’s eyes widened in disbelief. She couldn’t believe her ears. He was mad surely. How did he found the courage to ask that? He may have lost his mind during his summertime; those Italians and Spanish sunrays are fierce.

She pulled back, shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. "Luke, this is none of your business."

"Please, just answer me," he begged, his voice laced with worry.

“Do you love him? He dared to ask with jealousy in his voice.”

Nicola’s calm facade cracked. "Luke, we work together. I need you to respect my boundaries. You made your choices, and I’ve made mine. Let’s keep it professional".

“I can’t!” he almost screamed.

What? She replied dumbfounded.

“I must know if you’re with him. I can’t take this anymore.”

She was incredulous. She decided to go for the door.

He stopped her by kneeling in front of her.

His frustration bubbled over. "I can’t keep this professional anymore!" he almost shouted, his voice breaking.

Nicola was stunned. In all those years they’ve worked together, she had never seen him this troubled before. She stared at him, unable to process his words. "What do you mean?"

“"Nic, I'm really sorry. I should have been honest with her from the start, and I regret how things turned out after the premiere. That day was meant to be about us, and I ruined it. I was afraid to end things with her because everything was happening so fast, and I had already made a commitment, thinking we wouldn’t get there. I couldn’t handle the situation, and I’m truly sorry. I know it’s late, but I wanted to apologize again, deeply and sincerely."

Nicola was totally at a loss for words, moved by the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you for saying that. It’s very nice of you... “

Are you dating him? He asked again cutting her speech.

“Why would you need that information?”

"I miss you," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I messed up, Nic. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. I ended things because I realized you’re the one. I’ve missed you every single day, and I can’t stand the idea of you with someone else. Nic., I thought I could, but I can’t pretend anymore. I want you."

Nicola’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d dreamed of hearing those words, but now they felt like too little, too late. "Luke, you can’t just show up and…"

Luke stood up, towering her totally as she wasn’t wearing heels.

“I want to know if you’re single because… I want to date you. I ended things with her. I’m tired of this Ross and Rachel bullshit.” I was miserable, I missed you so much all summer, I thought that I was going crazy, my world was upside-down, it turned darker every day, everything seemed boring and irrelevant when I was not with you, everything was tasteless and useless, you make my life so much better.

Nicola was stunned. Speechless. She was staring at him disarmed by his words. Her eyes softened as she saw the genuine pain in his. But she couldn’t let go of her own hurt.

“No” she simply said.

“I was scared, and I pushed you away when I should have pulled you closer. But I’ve realized… you’re the one. You’ve always been the one” he said moving closer to her.

"Nicola, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I want to be better for you. I want to be the person who makes you happy, who supports your dreams and never holds you back. You deserve someone who lifts you up, and I’m ready to do that. I’m committed to growing, to being the kind of partner who enriches your life, not complicates it. Let me prove that I can be the person who stands by your side through everything, who helps you find peace and joy. I want us to be something real, something strong."

Nicola felt her defenses crumbling, but she held her ground. " "Luke, you can’t just show up and expect everything to go back to how it was. You broke my heart, and I’ve worked hard to put the pieces back together. I think it’s best if we just stay friends." "

"I know," Luke said, his eyes filled with regret. "But I want to fix it. I want to be more than a friend, I want us."

She turned away, trying to collect her thoughts. The weight of his words was heavy, pulling at her resolve. "You hurt me," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know if I can trust you with my heart again."

Luke’s heart sank. He wanted to take back every missed opportunity, but he couldn’t change the past. All he could do was prove himself now. "I’m willing to do whatever it takes," he said earnestly. "I want you, Nicola.”

“Only you” he said moving closer to her.

Nicola looked at him, her expression torn between hope and caution. Her eyes filled with tears, torn between her love for him and the pain he’d caused. She had missed him too, more than she cared to admit. But she wasn’t going to make it easy for him, she wasn't ready to give up on them either."We’ll see," she said finally, her voice a mix of guarded optimism and lingering doubt. "But you’ll have to prove it."

Luke nodded, knowing he had a long road ahead.

“Don’t date another man. I’m yours".

"The only one “. He added with conviction.

His expression changed, his eyes darkened, a mixture of determination and desperation. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. She backed against the wall, expecting his advance. The air between them crackled with unresolved tension. He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to fixate on his gaze. She saw the depth of his feelings, the intensity that had been missing.

“Don’t speak,” he whispered, his voice low and commanding. “I’m done going back and forth. I’m done waiting for the right time. I need you now.” He pressed his body against hers, his hands pinning her wrists against the wall. She let out a small sound, a mix of surprise and longing. His touch was electrifying, sending shivers down her spine.

He leaned in and kissed her left cheek his hand caressing her other cheek. " I want to be yours, he said gruffly “and I want you to be mine “he murmured in her ear, he moved a little to see her face, his eyes searching hers for any sign of resistance.

She could feel her resolve melting, her body responding to his nearness. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible, filled with need.

He leaned even more wanting to capture her lips with his, she parted hers delicately "The kiss started soft and slow, but it quickly turned voracious." She responded eagerly, deepening the kiss, her hand roaming through his curly hair. His moan vibrated against her lips, and he pulled her closer, his hands wandering about freely on her body, his hand grabbing her breasts, his lips kissing her everywhere with voraciousness, he was hungry of her.

They moved to the sofa, still lost in each other, Nicola put her hands on his bum, he growled with pleasure, she straddled him, their connection electric, both smiling and chuckling despite the intensity. For a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them, rewriting the stars one kiss at a time.

[deans-queen]

Repairing Hearts 👷🏻‍♂️❤️‍🩹

New Mini Series

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader (Y/N) is a single mom, struggling to fix her leaky roof. She posts an ad on social media desperate for help. When local repairman, Jensen Ackles offers to help, the two grow an unexpected connection that grows.

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, wrap it up kids), other mature themes, mild language, emotional topics. (If there is any that I missed please let me know) I will label the warnings in each part!

Part 5: Reader’s POV

Warnings: language, arguing/angst, light smut, and fluff.

The air was crisp, with a soft breeze carrying the scent of freshly popped popcorn and cotton candy as we made our way through the zoo. Aria skipped ahead, her excitement practically radiating off her in waves as she tugged at Jensen’s hand, pulling him toward the direction of the elephant exhibit.

“Come on, come on!” she squealed, her little voice filled with pure joy. “I want to see the elephants first!”

Jensen grinned down at her, letting her lead the way. “Alright, princess. Elephants it is,” he said, his tone playful as he glanced back at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes. It still took me by surprise sometimes—how naturally he fit into our lives, how easily he had bonded with Aria.

We had spent the whole week planning this trip to the zoo, and Aria had barely contained her excitement the night before, chattering on and on about the elephants. They had always been her favorite. She loved their big ears, their gentle eyes, and the way they moved so slowly and gracefully despite their size.

When we finally reached the elephant exhibit, Aria pressed her face against the railing, her eyes wide as she stared at the giant creatures.

“Look, Mommy! They’re so big!” she exclaimed, pointing at the elephants as they slowly lumbered across the enclosure.

I smiled, leaning down next to her. “They are, baby. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Jensen knelt down beside her, his hand resting gently on her back. “Did you know elephants are one of the smartest animals in the world?”

Aria’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, nodding. “They can remember things for years, and they even have their own way of talking to each other.”

I watched them interact, my heart swelling with affection. Aria hung on Jensen’s every word, soaking in everything he said as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. And the way he looked at her—with such patience, such care—it made my chest ache in the best way possible. He even bought her a stuffed animal elephant that she’s going to love and cherish forever.

The day passed in a blur of laughter and excitement. We explored every corner of the zoo, from the giraffes to the penguins to the big cats, and Aria loved every second of it. Jensen carried her on his shoulders when her little legs got tired, and I couldn’t stop smiling, watching the two of them together. It felt so easy, so right—like we were already a family.

As the sun started to dip low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the zoo, we decided to head home. Aria had fallen asleep in the back seat before we even left the parking lot, exhausted from the excitement of the day. I glanced at Jensen, his hands resting on the steering wheel as he drove, his eyes soft as he watched the road.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, reaching over to rest my hand on his arm. “For today. It meant so much to her.”

Jensen smiled, his hand covering mine, squeezing gently. “It meant a lot to me too, Y/N. I love spending time with you both.”

I smiled back, feeling the warmth of his words settle into my heart. “We love spending time with you too.”

When we got home, I tucked Aria into bed making sure she had her stuffed animal Elephant close to her, which she decided to call him “Dumbo” from the Disney movie. Jensen and I were sitting on the couch, basking in the glow of the perfect day, laughing about Aria’s excitement over the elephants and how she had tried to convince Jensen to adopt one as a pet.

But then we heard a knock at the door — wondering who it could be at this hour. And to my dismay, standing at the front door, leaning against the frame with a scowl on his face, was Aria’s dad. I hadn’t seen him in months—hadn’t heard from him since the day he decided being a father was too much responsibility for him. And now, here he was, showing up unannounced like he had any right to be here.

I felt my stomach twist with a mix of anxiety and anger as I looked at him. Jensen’s eyes were immediately on me, his expression hardening when he followed my gaze and saw who was waiting for us.

“Y/N,” my ex said, his voice dripping with annoyance. “We need to talk.”

I straightened my back, trying to keep my voice calm. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, pushing off the doorframe. “I figured it was time I saw my daughter. I’ve got rights, you know.”

My jaw clenched. The audacity of him showing up here after all this time—after abandoning Aria and me—was almost too much to handle. “You don’t get to just show up out of nowhere, acting like you care.”

He rolled his eyes, stepping closer, and I could see the anger in his expression. “Don’t act like I’m the bad guy, Tianna. You kept me out of her life.”

“YOU abandoned me when I got pregnant! And now all of sudden that’s my fault that you’re not part of her life!?” I say, frustration and anger in my voice. I couldn’t believe the bullshit that was coming out of his mouth.

I could feel the tension building, my chest tightening with the familiar hurt and frustration that always seemed to follow him. But before I could say anything else, Jensen stepped forward, placing himself between me and my ex. His presence was solid, protective, and the look in his eyes was cold as steel.

“That’s enough,” Jensen said, his voice calm but dangerous. “You’ve got no right to talk to her like that.”

My ex narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated by Jensen’s presence. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped, looking Jensen up and down like he was sizing him up.

Jensen didn’t back down. “I’m the one who’s been here for Y/N and Aria while you’ve been off doing whatever the hell you’ve been doing. You want to talk? You do it with respect.”

My ex let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Respect? You’re just some random guy she’s messing around with.”

Jensen’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice dropping low. “I’m the man who’s taking care of your daughter and the woman you walked out on. So, unless you’ve got something useful to say, I suggest you leave.”

There was a beat of silence, tension crackling in the air. My ex stared at Jensen, clearly trying to decide if he wanted to push the issue, but something in the way Jensen stood—calm, steady, unflinching—made him think twice. With a scoff, he turned his back on us, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

I stood there, my heart racing, watching as he disappeared into the night. It wasn’t until he was completely out of sight that I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Jensen turned to me, his eyes softening as he took my hand. “You okay?”

I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “Yeah... I just can’t believe he showed up like that.”

Jensen pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. “He won’t bother you again, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

I melted into his embrace, feeling safe in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you,” I whispered against his chest, my voice shaky with emotion.

Jensen kissed the top of my head, his hand stroking my back. “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I’m here for you. For both of you.”

Later that night, I stood by the window, staring out at the street, still shaken from earlier. My ex’s sudden appearance had dredged up so many emotions—anger, hurt, fear. Even though he was gone, the memory of his harsh words lingered like a dark cloud over the perfect day we had spent at the zoo.

I hated that he had this power over me, even now. I hated that he could show up and stir up all that hurt after being absent for so long. He had no right to disrupt our lives like this, especially not after everything I had built with Aria on my own. And now, with Jensen in the picture, things were different. We were different.

I felt strong, but in moments like this, that strength wavered.

“Hey,” Jensen’s voice was soft as he walked up behind me, his arms slipping around my waist. I leaned back against him, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of his body calm the storm inside me. “You’ve been quiet since he left.”

I sighed, my heart heavy. “I just can’t stop thinking about him—how he thinks he can just show up and disrupt everything. It’s like he thinks he has some right to Aria, when he’s never been there for her. Or for me.”

Jensen turned me around to face him, his eyes filled with understanding. “I get it, babe. He walked away when you needed him the most, and now he wants to pretend he’s entitled to something. But he’s not. He doesn’t get to just come in and make demands.”

I looked up into his eyes, grateful for the reassurance, but still, a part of me couldn’t shake the fear. “What if he tries to come back again? What if he causes trouble? I don’t want Aria to be hurt by him.”

Jensen’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “He won’t, I promise you that. I won’t let him near you or Aria. He had his chance, and he blew it. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The intensity in his voice sent a wave of comfort through me. I believed him. I always did. Jensen wasn’t just saying those words—he meant them. Every touch, every look, every moment we’d shared had proven that he wasn’t going to leave. Not like my ex had.

I reached up, brushing my fingers along his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath my touch. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

Jensen leaned down, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss started soft, but there was something deeper there—something more urgent. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer, and I felt that familiar spark ignite between us.

“You have no idea how much love you, Y/N,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm as his hands slid up my sides, teasing the edge of my shirt. “Every time I look at you, I fall harder.”

My heart raced, the weight of his words sinking in as his mouth moved to my neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to my collarbone. His touch was intoxicating, making me forget everything but him—forget the pain, forget the fear.

“I love you too,” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my body against his. “Jensen…”

He lifted me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me toward the bedroom, his lips never leaving mine. The air between us was charged with that electric pull, that undeniable need that had been building since the moment we met.

Once inside the room, he laid me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine as his gaze locked onto me with a fierce intensity. “You’re mine, baby. All of you. I’m never letting you go.”

I shivered at the possessiveness in his voice, feeling the heat in my core build as his hands slid down my body, tugging at the hem of my shirt before pulling it over my head. “I don’t want you to,” I whispered, my breath catching as he kissed me again, deeper this time.

Every kiss, every touch was filled with that unspoken promise—that no matter what happened, Jensen was here to stay. And as his hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of me with a burning desire, I knew that he was right. We were building something real, something lasting, and no one—especially not my ex—could take that away from us.

Jensen’s POV

Watching Y/N underneath me, her lips swollen from our kisses, her breath coming in soft, ragged gasps, I knew there was no turning back. I’d never felt anything like this before—this all-consuming need to be with someone, to protect them, to make sure they knew just how much they meant to me.

She looked up at me, her eyes dark and full of trust, and it hit me right then and there—I didn’t want to spend another day without her. I wanted to be the man she and Aria could rely on for the rest of their lives.

“Y/N,” I murmured, my hands sliding down to her hips as I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the way her body responded to mine. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

Her eyes fluttered open, her breath catching as she looked up at me. “What is it?”

I paused for a moment, feeling the weight of the moment settle in my chest. I’d never done this before, but with her, it felt right. Hell, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

I sat up, pulling her with me until we were both sitting on the edge of the bed. Her shirt was gone, and her hair was a mess, but she looked so damn beautiful, it took my breath away. I reached into the pocket of my jeans, my heart pounding in my chest as I pulled out the small box I’d been carrying around for days, waiting for the right moment.

“This,” I said softly, holding up the box, “is what I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the box in my hand. “Jensen…”

I opened it, revealing the simple yet elegant ring inside. “I know it’s fast. I know we haven’t been together for that long, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You and Aria… you’re everything to me. I want to be here for you, every day, for the rest of our lives.”

Tears filled her eyes as she looked from the ring to me, her lips trembling. “Jensen…”

“I love you, Y/N. I love Aria. I want to build a life with you, and I’m asking you to marry me. To let me be the man who takes care of you, who protects you, and who loves you for the rest of my life.”

For a moment, she was silent, her hand still covering her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. My heart raced, waiting for her answer, but the look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she smiled through the tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Relief and joy surged through me as I slipped the ring onto her finger, pulling her into my arms. I kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of love I had into that kiss, knowing that from this moment on, everything was about to change.

She was mine, and I was hers. Forever.

Reader’s POV

And in that moment, I knew without a doubt that he meant every word. Jensen wasn’t just part of my life—he was part of our family, and nothing, not even Aria’s dad, could change that.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this part because I certainly enjoyed writing it! The way Jensen stepped in to protect her from Aria’s dead beat dad like 🥵Y’all they’re gonna get married!!! 🥰🥹😭😭 Let me know if you want me to write the wedding/honeymoon part! 🫶🏻

Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

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If you would like to be added on my Taglist for stories please send me a message or comment on this post !

[toastsnaffler]

sometimes I wish I was a more interesting + charismatic person just so I could keep conversations going bc I like sharing space with other ppl but they routinely lose all interest and leave once I run out of things to say/start talking abt things that don't concern them :-(

[seariii]

Woops look at the time

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[fulokis]

I got added to a book group and I’m not sure why, like I struggle so badly with reading it’s not funny. Maybe it’s cause I write but like even then it’s not original shit it’s just piggybacking on other stuff and I haven’t posted any of it in ages

[uh-oh-its-bird]

POV I write a cute sapphic book a girl who goes out and buys a different shitty salad every day from her local corner store just to see the hot trans lesbian goth cash register gal

Only to brutally murder one of them in the final chapter of the book because none of us are safe and were dying every day and the world is awful and you never really care or let it feel real till it affects you personally

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Parties were NOT Simon Riley's cup of tea. Not only did they drain his social battery, but he was the type of man that much preferred the comfort of a good book and his bed over that of social interaction.

But today was New Year’s Eve, and not only had Soap practically threatened him to come, you would be there. Seeing you would make attending the shitty party worth it. Seeing you always made anything worth it.

Simon walked into the mess hall, his heart racing slightly as he realized just how many people were here. All of the soldiers still on duty were gathered, eating, drinking, joking. Just the sheer amount of chaos that was ensuing made Simon want to run back to his room.

Until he saw you.

He found you watching TV, nursing on some concoction of drink, a languid smile on your lips as you saw him approach.

“Sergeant.” Simon nodded in your direction as he came to stand by you, thankful you couldn’t see the crimson forming in his cheeks.

“Lieutenant.” You smiled up at him, before letting your eyes fall back to the TV in front of you. "Surprised to see you here tonight."

Simon grunted in reply, his eyes scanning the crowded mess hall, finding his Scottish friend laughing with a group of recruits. "Johnny forced me. Plus, the company isn't so bad."

You turned your face slightly, a blush reaching your cheeks at his admission. "Glad to know my company is suitable for you."

You both stood watching the party for a while as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. This was one of the things Simon adored about you. You never forced him to talk, which frankly, made him all the more eager to do so with you.

“Y/N-.” He began, but Johnny had cut him off with a tap of his glass.

"Alright everyone, begin the count down! It’s ten seconds to midnight!” Johnny called out, grabbing everyone's attention, prompting nearly everyone in the mess hall began to shout out the countdown.

"Ten!"

You couldn't help but look over at your lieutenant, your breath hitching slightly as you saw he was already looking at you, his soft brown eyes softening as they locked on you.

All of the noise in the background, the cheers, the conversations, the sound of the TV, all vanished in that moment. The only thing mattering to you was the way that Simon Riley was looking at you.

"Nine!"

Your many years alongside him began to swirl in your head, all the long missions, the close calls, all those times he risked his life for you, and you for him. All those times he'd let you in to see the man behind the mask, the man that was Simon Riley.

Your feelings for him had only grown in all the time you'd been alongside him, and you found yourself utterly and completely in love with your superior.

"Eight!"

Simon took a step closer to you, his eyes remaining as stoic as ever as they stayed locked on yours. You always hated how you could never tell what he was thinking, could never read what he was feeling by his looking in his eyes.

God, what you would give to be able to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his right now.

If only you fucking knew.

"Seven!"

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as his he now stood almost chest to chest with you, his frame towering over yours as he looked down at you. You blinked a few times, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. "Hi."

"Hi." He replied, his tone quieter than usual. His hands began to shake slightly as he slowly began to move one of them toward the base of his balaclava.

"Six!"

You watched as he pulled his mask up, revealing a handsome jaw, lined with stubble. His lips were littered with scars, and you couldn't help but stare at them. From what little you could see of his face, you realized just how fucking pretty he was. As if there was any doubt.

"S-Simon." You breathed out, the intensity of his gaze sending a heat coursing throughout the entirety of your body. You couldn’t help yourself, you let your hand grip lightly at his arm, prompting him to chuckle softly.

"Five!"

Simon leaned toward you, his finger lightly touching your chin as he tilted your face up towards his. You found yourself leaning up toward him, your heels leaving the ground slightly.

His touch was so gentle against your chin despite the rough texture of his fingers, and it took everything in you not to moan at the tenderness of his touch.

"Four!"

“You want this?” He asked, his voice holding a nervousness you’d never been on the receiving end of before. “With me?”

All you could do was nod up at him, not trusting yourself to speak. You don't think you'd ever been this nervous in your life, your mouth running dry in anticipation.

"Three!"

This was it, wasn’t it? After all these years, after all those long nights, those deep talks, those longing glances… was this really about to happen?

"Two!"

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you felt his breath on your mouth, his lips being just a hair away from your own. You could hear him inhale sharply, and watched as his eyes darted toward your mouth.

"One!"

It was as if time stopped when his lips finally met yours. They slotted against yours so effortlessly, almost as if they were made to be kissed by you.

After years of loving Simon Riley, he was finally, finally kissing you. And it was everything you could ever have hoped it would be.

He pulled away a moment later, the smile on his lips now reaching his beautiful brown eyes. “Happy New Year, sergeant.”

A Happy New Year indeed.

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[pastryfication]

fan interactions | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader

summary: you tend to shy away from all interactions and oscar has never had a problem with that. he can’t deny that seeing you interact with his fans isn’t a sight he enjoys, though.

warnings: none!!

every race weekend you are able to attend follows a familiar pattern for you: you arrive at the track with oscar, your heart pounding with excitement and anxiety as the noise, the crowds and the high energy overwhelming you. sticking close to your boyfriend’s side, holding onto his arms or hand is the best comfort you can get. oscar’s presence beside you acts as your shield, your safe haven in the whirlwind of it all.

today is no different. as you walk through the bustling paddock, you stick close to oscar, basically hiding behind him. he holds your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the chaos and you enjoy being able to cling to him. you know he understands how you feel, always making sure you’re comfortable, never pushing you to interact more than you’re ready for, and you appreciate it so much. all of your life, people have tried to force you into becoming more social, but it never helped you, only made you more uncomfortable, so oscar’s understanding means the world.

today, though, something unexpected happens. as you pass by a group of fans, one of them, a young girl with a friendly smile, catches your eye. she steps forward, her excitement palpable.

“hi!” she exclaims. “you’re oscar’s girlfriend, right?” her are eyes wide with admiration as she questions you.

you nod shyly, trying to force your voice above a whisper. “yes, i am.”

the fan beams at you, reaching into her bag. “i made this for you. it’s a bracelet with oscar’s racing colours and his number! i hope you like it.”

she hands you a beautiful bracelet woven with intricate patterns in orange and gold. your heart swells with warmth at the kind gesture. “thank you so much, it’s lovely,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as you take the bracelet and slips it around your wrist.

“can i take a picture of you wearing it?” the fan asks, her eyes sparkling with hope.

overwhelmed by the attention, you try your best to seem calm and confident, but your hands are shaking slightly as you nod your head.

the fan takes a quick photo while you muster up your best smile. her gratitude is evident in her eyes as she thanks you. “thank you so so much! you’re so sweet.”

you manage a small genuine smile in return, feeling a mix of nerves and happiness. as the fan takes a step back, you turn to catch up with your boyfriend. when he feels your presence besides him, oscar turns to you, his eyes full of pride.

“you handled that so well,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “i know it’s not easy for you, but you were amazing.”

you blush, looking down at the bracelet. “i was so nervous,” you laugh awkwardly. “but she was really nice.”

oscar chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “you were adorable. i think it’s cute how shy you get. and i love seeing you smile like that.”

your heart flutters at his words, butterflies forming in your stomach. being with oscar made you feel so special. something about his intense attention and affection makes you feel like the most important person in the world. moments like these only work to further remind you just how deeply he understands and appreciates you. you lean into him, wrapping your hands around his bicep as you continue walking into the paddock.

“thank you,” you whisper, grateful for his constant support. “i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to do anything alone. i’m always gonna be here for you.”

his promise makes a brighter, even more beautiful smile appear on your face. walking towards the mclaren hospitality, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingers reminds you just how lucky you are. the luckiest girl in the world perhaps.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙feels like | PG10˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: pierre gasly x leclerc!singer!reader (she/her) x kika gomes

genre: social media au, polyamory

warnings: polyamory

summary: in which you meet the loves of ur life in the form of ur brother's best friend and his girlfriend

a/n: u've all been begging for this pairing HAHAH im finally delivering 🙏

request!!!: charles little sister and she doesn't really go to his races that often because she's a singer but she finally does and she hangs with kika & gets a crush on her & meets pierre & develops feelings for him too so then they finally get together and try to drop subtle hints but everyone just thinks they r good friends

my masterlist

fc: gracie abrams

instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by arthur_leclerc, user41, and others

ynupdates y/n seen today outside the airport in florence, italy !!

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

user1 hi arthur in the likes lol

user2 her biggest fan

user3 is she going to imola????

user4 omg 👀

user5 Y/N AT A RACE??!!

user6 omg i hope she's finally coming to a race we barely ever see her there

user7 i miss her

user8 welcome back to f1 y/n 😻

user9 why does she never go to races omgg

user10 she goes to most big ones imo but she's busy with her own career

user11 y/n and charles content i beg

user12 nah y/n and the other drivers content plsss 🙏

yourusername posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

user13 awwwwww omg

user14 so cute

charles_leclerc hanging out with my girlfriend before you even see me? okay!

yourusername get over it

user15 are u coming to imola 🙈

user16 see u at the race y/n 👀

alexandrasaintmleux my fav leclerc 😘

liked by yourusername

user17 imola imola imola

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by francisca.cgomes, arthur_leclerc, and others

user18 omggg is that kika

user19 kikayn the duo i didnt know i needed

charles_leclerc y/n please

yourusername im coming im coming

user20 this duo actually makes so much sense

user21 i love women

user22 need her to meet pierre i just know they'd get along they all got the same vibes

user23 im gay

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by user18, user31, user4, and others

f1wagupdates pierre gasly and girlfriend kika gomes have been seen multiple times over the past few weeks with ‘i miss you, im sorry’ singer & sister of charles leclerc, y/n leclerc. they appear to have become good friends since their alleged first meeting in imola, but sources report some suggestive interactions including all three of them.

tagged: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, yourusername

view all comments

user26 suggestive interactions...????

user27 omg obsessed with this trio lol

user28 the friendship we never knew we needed 😻

user29 what suggestive interactions lol it's TOO VAGUE!!! give us more

user30 i bet charles loves this 😂

user31 the first piccccc omg y/n and kika cuddling and pierre is just there

user32 y/n and kika tgthr is just so cunty

user33 someone ask charles what he thinks 😂

francisca.cgomes

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and others

francisca.cgomes 🌷 lil dump

tagged: pierregasly, yourusername

view all comments

user34 OMG hellooo y/n

user35 the last pic hahah so cuntyyy

user36 ugh OBSESSED with this trio

user37 i wish i was them

landonorris ugh set me up with y/n please kika

francisca.cgomes now why the hell would i do that

pierregasly not happening, sorry lando

landonorris ??? wtf why not

francisca.cgomes she's OURS

yourusername 😂😂

user38 sus

user39 ???? what is going awnnn

user40 SUSSSSSS

yourusername awww pierre in his lil suit 👔

pierregasly awww y/n with her lil lollypop 🍭

francisca.cgomes 🙄

user41 what is even happening lol

yourusername posted a story

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, and others

charles_leclerc y/n

yourusername hi charlie

charles_leclerc maman misses you

yourusername is that code for u & arthur miss me 🤨

charles_leclerc perhaps...

yourusername lol i'll come visit home soon

francisca.cgomes leak it to me

yourusername 🤫 all in good time!

pierregasly about me?

yourusername in ur dreams

pierregasly 👀

user42 OMG

user43 new music new music new music

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername 📍 monaco

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and others

yourusername & i would do whatever u wanted

tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly

view all comments

user44 urmmm is that lyrics

user45 yea omg look at the notebook she's holding up

user46 this is what it feels like????

user47 drop the song

user48 love this friendship

francisca.cgomes love you gorgeous

yourusername love you sm

charles_leclerc ❤️

liked by yourusername

user49 ???

pierregasly met you at the right time

yourusername 👀

user50 ok what's going on

user51 ????

user52 wot

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and others

yourusername jus dropped my new song ‘feels like’. the girls that get it, get it... thank u for ur unwavering support always 🫶

view all comments

user53 who else here is a girl that (finally) gets it

liked by yourusername

user54 get what😭😭😭

user55 SHE'S DATING THEM

user56 the hard hard launch i never knew i needed

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourusername love you

arthur_leclerc ❤️

yourusername ❤️ my biggest fan

arthur_leclerc always

user57 oh i love them sm

user58 i would do whatever you wanted we dont have to leave the apartment 😭

user59 MET YOU AT THE RIGHT TIME‼️

francisca.cgomes mon cœur 💓

yourusername oh i love you

francisca.cgomes 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user60 best girls omg

pierregasly world's sexiest leclerc!

yourusername i hold this title loudly & proudly

charles_leclerc 🙄

user61 😂 pierre is so real for this

user62 oh the song is soso beautiful

pierregasly

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pierregasly livin in a movie i've watched and...

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user63 FUNNY CAUSE I COULDNT HAVE CALLED IT!!???

user64 omggg

user65 this is a true love story frrr

user66 AHHHH I LOVE THEM SO BAD

charles_leclerc photo creds for the last pic!!

pierregasly ofc charles 😘

charles_leclerc dont flirt with me too

yourusername 😂😂 have a day off!

arthur_leclerc ily guys

francisca.cgomes oh hello fav leclerc brother

arthur_leclerc 😀

yourusername ily art

charles_leclerc 🙄

yourusername i met u both at the right time 😭

francisca.cgomes thank u imola paddock 🤩🤩🤩

pierregasly our place 🙏🙏🙏🙏

user67 omg.. OBSESSED!!!

THE END 🥹🩷

[vanessagillings]

I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

[pin-k-ink]

how about Kenma getting addicted to the taste of reader's tits? 🤭

refuge // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ tooth-rotting fluff, cuddling, needy!kenma, praise kink, nipple play, fingering, kenma’s love for apple pie, anything else i missed

wc ⇢ 4.2k

The bedroom was awash in the warm, honeyed glow of the bedside lamp when Kenma shuffled in, steps heavy with exhaustion. You glanced up from your book to take in his appearance, heart immediately going out to him.

His normally bright eyes were glazed and half-lidded, dark smudges underneath standing out starkly against his pale skin. Strands of hair, still slightly damp from his post-practice shower, had escaped his messy bun to frame his face in wispy tendrils. The black roots were starting to show through more prominently, bleeding into the bleached ends.

"Hey you," you greeted softly, setting your book aside and opening your arms in invitation. "Long day?"

Kenma made a vague grunt of affirmation, clambering onto the bed and immediately collapsing onto you. His chin dug into your sternum as he nuzzled close, seeking comfort, and you bit back a wince.

"We had morning practice, then classes, then more practice after school," he grumbled, voice muffled by your sleep shirt. "I think Kuroo is trying to kill me."

You made a sympathetic sound, fingers finding their way into Kenma's hair to scratch lightly at his scalp - something you knew always helped him relax. "I'm sorry, baby. That sounds brutal."

"Mmmph." Kenma shifted a bit until his head was pillowed more comfortably on your stomach, arms loosely curled around your hips. "S'okay. This helps."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his admission. Kenma wasn't always the most verbally demonstrative with his affections, so hearing him say that - knowing he found solace in your arms - made you feel cherished.

For a while, the two of you just lay there like that, breathing together in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. Your fingers continued their soothing ministrations, gently combing through silky strands and lightly scratching at Kenma's nape and behind his ears. Every now and then he'd let out a barely audible hum, melting further into you as the tension gradually seeped out of his muscles.

These were some of your favorite moments - just holding Kenma close and feeling him unwind, knowing you were his safe harbor. Whether he was stressed from volleyball practice, drained from too much social interaction, or just stiff from too many hours hunched over a game - he always seemed to seek you out, craving your soft, grounding touch.

Usually, Kenma was content to rest his head in your lap while you sat propped against the headboard, dozing as you ran gentle fingers through his hair or massaged his scalp. Or he'd stretch out between your legs on his stomach, face pillowed on your thighs as you rubbed his back in long, firm strokes.

But today, as the minutes ticked by, you began to sense a restlessness in him, a dissatisfaction in the way he kept shifting minutely against you. His brow was furrowed, nose scrunching slightly, like he couldn't get completely settled.

"Everything okay?" you asked quietly, smoothing your thumb over the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"Mmm." Kenma's answer was decidedly noncommittal. He turned his face more fully into your belly, nuzzling the soft pudge like a cat trying to make a bed more comfortable. "Just...I dunno. Can't relax."

He huffed out a frustrated breath that tickled your skin through your thin cotton tee. Then, in a move that surprised you, he pushed himself up on his elbows to frown down at your midsection almost accusingly. "It's too...this isn't soft enough."

You couldn't help it - a burst of laughter escaped you at his petulant expression, so at odds with his usual controlled stoicism. "Are you calling me bony, Kozume?" you teased, poking him in the side.

Kenma squirmed away from your prodding finger, nose wrinkling adorably. "No," he denied, but the flush rising on his cheeks said otherwise. "I just...I need..." He trailed off, clearly frustrated with his inability to articulate what he wanted.

Patient as ever, you just watched him, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down his spine as you waited for him to sort out his thoughts. Kenma's eyes darted around, landing everywhere but your face as he struggled for words.

Finally, he sat up fully, knees bracketing your hips as he hovered over you. His gaze roamed your body slowly, almost appraisingly, and you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of it. When his eyes landed on your chest and widened fractionally, a glimmer of interest sparking in their golden depths, your breath caught.

Kenma licked his lips, an unconscious gesture that made heat prickle under your skin. He reached out a tentative hand, fingertips grazing the curve of your breast through your shirt. "Maybe..." He swallowed audibly. "Maybe these would be better?"

It took you a second to compute his meaning, brain momentarily stalled by his touch, light as it was. When it clicked, you couldn't contain your amused grin. "Are you asking to motorboat me, Kenma?"

"What? No!" His response was immediate and adorably flustered, cheeks going pink. He snatched his hand back like he'd been scalded. "That's not - I wasn't - I just thought -"

Taking pity on him, you gentled your smile and reached for his hand, guiding it back to your chest. "I'm just teasing, baby. Here..." Maintaining eye contact, you placed his palm more fully over your breast, shivering slightly when his fingers reflexively curled around the soft mound. "Is this what you wanted?"

Kenma's blush intensified, creeping up to the tips of his ears, but he didn't pull away. He nodded shyly, thumb rubbing almost reverently over your nipple. It stiffened under his touch, the thin fabric of your shirt doing nothing to mute the sensation, and you bit your lip to stifle a gasp.

"Well, in that case..." Reaching up, you curled your fingers into the loose collar of your sleep shirt and tugged it down a bit, exposing the gentle swells of your breasts. "Mi casa es su casa."

Your playful tone startled a laugh out of Kenma, breathy and warm against your skin. The sound made affection swell in your chest, bright and buoyant. He so rarely laughed fully; each one felt like a gift.

Slowly, giving you time to change your mind, Kenma lowered himself down until he was stretched out on top of you, head coming to rest on your chest. You felt his hesitant exhale, the flutter of his lashes against your skin as his eyes slid closed. A heartbeat passed, two, three...and then he relaxed fully against you, a sigh of bone-deep contentment escaping him.

"Oh," he breathed, sounding a little wondering. "This is...wow."

You couldn't help but agree. There was something profoundly intimate about holding him like this, his lean body a line of warmth against yours from chest to toes. You felt surrounded by him, enveloped. Safe. Cherished.

Winding your arms around Kenma's narrow shoulders, you pulled him incrementally closer and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of his head. "Comfy?" you murmured into his hair.

"Mmmm." It was more a purr than a word, drowsy and utterly content. Kenma nuzzled into the valley between your breasts like he was trying to burrow into you. "Very. You're so soft. And warm. And you smell good."

Your heart turned over behind your ribs, so full of tender affection you thought it might burst. Kenma was rarely so artless with his praise, the sincere words made clumsy by impending sleep. It was painfully endearing.

"Glad to be of service," you whispered, unwilling to disturb the cocoon of hushed intimacy enveloping you. "Sweet dreams, lovely boy."

Kenma made a small, agreeable noise and you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin. His limbs grew heavy and lax as sleep pulled him under, one arm curled possessively around your waist and a leg thrown over your thigh.

For a long while you simply held him, cheek resting against his silky hair, drinking in the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. Your fingers traced idle patterns over his back and shoulders, following the dips and planes of lean muscle and the delicate ridges of his spine. Each steady, trusting exhale fanning over your skin felt like a precious gift.

This beautiful boy, so reserved and guarded with the rest of the world, felt safe enough in your arms to let himself be vulnerable. To seek comfort and care without fear of judgment. Your throat tightened at the thought, overcome with tenderness.

Shifting carefully, trying not to jostle Kenma, you craned your neck to study his slack features. The ever-present furrow between his brows had smoothed out and his lips were parted slightly, long lashes fanned over his cheekbones. The late-afternoon sunlight filtering through the blinds gilded his skin and set his pale hair aglow, surrounding him in a hazy nimbus.

He looked so young like this, untroubled and ethereally lovely. You felt almost breathless with the need to bundle him close, to shelter him from anything that might dim the contented glow suffusing his face. Kenma carried tension in every line of his body, a quiet sort of melancholy that broke your heart.

If you could give him respite from that, even just for a little while...if you could be his safe harbor, his soft place to land when the world become too much...you would consider yourself the luckiest person alive.

Careful not to disturb Kenma's rest, you fished your phone off the nightstand and set an alarm to wake you in an hour. As much as you would've loved to let him sleep as long as he needed, you knew he'd be upset if he missed dinner. Growing boys needed their fuel, as he often reminded you with a wry smile when you questioned his truly heroic food intake.

That task done, you curled your body more securely around Kenma's, savoring the warm solidity of him in your arms. With a sigh of utter contentment, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift, surrounded by the boy you loved.

The shrill chime of your phone alarm roused you some time later. You groaned softly, nose scrunching in displeasure, and fumbled to turn it off. Beside you, Kenma stirred, making a sleepy sound of protest at being disturbed.

"Sorry, baby," you rasped, voice thick with disuse. You ran a soothing hand up and down his back. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Kenma grumbled something unintelligible and burrowed deeper into your cleavage like he could block out the world if he just tried hard enough. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting a smile. Who knew Kozume Kenma was a secret cuddle monster?

The rumbling of your stomach broke the drowsy silence a moment later, seconded almost immediately by an answering growl from Kenma's. You huffed out a laugh, carding your fingers through the cornsilk hair at the nape of his neck. "Sounds like it's dinner time for us. Want me to order something?"

"Nooo." The petulant whine was muffled by your skin. "Don't wanna move. 'M comfy."

"I know, lovely, but we need to eat." You stroked your knuckles down the knobs of his spine, gentling him like a grumpy kitten. "Tell you what - if you let me up, I promise I'll order from that place you like with the apple pie. And you can use me as a pillow again while we eat."

There was a considering pause as Kenma clearly weighed your words. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he heaved a tremendously put-upon sigh and rolled away to flop on his back, one arm slung over his eyes.

"Fiiiine," he dragged out, peeking at you from under his elbow. "But there better be pie or I'm staging a protest."

"So demanding." You grinned, leaning over to smack a kiss to his cheek before sliding out of bed. "You're lucky you're cute."

Kenma's outraged sputter followed you out of the room, making you giggle into your palm. Riling him up was entirely too much fun. You knew you'd pay for it later - he'd probably rope you into being his player 2 for some new co-op game he'd been obsessed with - but it would be worth it. Time spent with Kenma was never time wasted.

When you returned to the bedroom, bags of takeout in hand, it was to find Kenma propped up against the headboard in one of your old, oversized sweatshirts, tapping away at his PSP. He glanced up when you entered, nose twitching appreciatively at the savory scent wafting from the bags.

"That was quick," he commented, setting his game aside to make grabby hands at the food.

"I may have bribed Yamamoto with a free teriyaki bowl to sprint over here. And before you ask, yes - I got the pie."

"My hero." Kenma's smile was tiny but genuine, eyes soft as he watched you unpack containers of gyudon and steamed veggies. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

You paused, chopsticks hovering over a piece of beef, and tilted your head at him. "Are you talking to me or the pie?"

Kenma's lips twitched like he was fighting a grin. "Can't it be both?"

That startled a bright laugh out of you, head tipping back with the force of it. "Wow, okay, I see how it is. Nice to know where I stand."

Setting the food aside, you crawled up the bed and swung a leg over Kenma's hips to straddle him. His hands settled automatically on your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the sensitive inner skin. Cupping his face in your palms, you dipped down to touch your forehead to his, noses brushing.

"I love you too, you brat," you murmured against his mouth. "Even if I have to compete with baked goods for your affection."

Kenma's lips curved into a rare, full-blown grin, cheeks rounding out under your palms. "No competition," he said simply, tilting his chin up to slot your mouths together.

He kissed you slow and deep, a leisurely exploration that made your toes curl. Slender fingers crept under the hem of your- his shirt to stroke the skin of your lower back, making you shiver and press closer. You sighed into it, arms sliding around his neck as you sank into him.

After long, drugging minutes, Kenma drew back to rest his forehead against yours again. His eyes were soft and hazy when they met yours, full of quiet adoration. "Apple pie's got nothing on you."

The words were light, a little irreverent, but you heard the deeper meaning under them - the steadfast devotion, the promise inherent in each syllable. Your heart swelled, straining against the cage of your ribs with the force of your love for this beautiful, brilliant boy.

Unable to articulate the depth of your emotions, you simply kissed him again, winding your arms tighter around him as if you could fuse your bodies into one being. Kenma sighed against your mouth, melting into your embrace like coming home.

Later, bellies full and limbs heavy with encroaching sleep, you watched through drooping lids as Kenma set aside his empty pie tin with a satisfied sigh. He caught you looking and cocked an eyebrow, mouth curving into a lazy smirk.

"Good?" you asked.

"So good. That pie never lets me down." Kenma patted his stomach, then held his arms out to you in clear demand. "Now c'mere. I need my human pillow."

Stifling a laugh, you obediently crawled into his arms and let him arrange you to his liking - head nestled on your chest, arms banded around your waist to hold you close. He nuzzled his face into your softness with a contented hum, already boneless and pliant with impending sleep.

"Hey," he mumbled a moment later, voice muffled by your chest. "Wanna try something else…"

You pulled back slightly to look at Kenma, a curious tilt to your head. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Kenma ducked his head, peering up at you through his lashes almost shyly. A faint blush dusted his cheekbones, but there was a glimmer of heat in his golden eyes that made your pulse kick up a notch.

Slowly, deliberately, he slid his hands up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over the peaked nipples through the thin fabric of the shirt. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, back arching into his touch.

"Just wanna feel you," Kenma murmured, gaze heavy-lidded and intent on your face. "Wanna make you feel good."

Your breath hitched, arousal unfurling hot and syrupy in your veins at his words. Wordlessly, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. Kenma's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as they raked over your bared skin.

Leaning down, you captured his lips in a searing kiss, licking into his mouth with purpose. Kenma groaned softly, fingers flexing on your breasts as he kissed you back just as fiercely before pulling back for air.

Kenma's heated gaze raked over your bare chest, pupils blown wide with desire as he took in the sight of your breasts. Slowly, almost reverently, he cupped the soft mounds in his palms, relishing the weight of them. His thumbs grazed your nipples, circling the dusky peaks until they pebbled under his touch.

Kenma's eyes were riveted to your chest, pupils blown wide and dark with desire as he took in the sight of your bare breasts. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, tongue darting out to wet his lips unconsciously.

"Can I...?" His hands hovered just shy of touching, fingers twitching with the effort of holding back.

"Please," you breathed, arching your spine in clear offering. "Touch me, Kenma."

Permission granted, he wasted no time in cupping the soft mounds again, relishing the weight of them in his palms. Your flesh spilled between his fingers, impossibly smooth and warm. He squeezed gently, wonderingly, thumbs grazing the dusky peaks and feeling them stiffen further under his touch.

Leaning down, Kenma traced the tip of his nose along the curve of your breast, breathing in the scent of your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the silken flesh, tongue darting out to taste you. Your breath hitched as he moved higher, laving the sensitive underside before finally closing his lips around the straining peak.

A low moan escaped you at the sensation of wet heat enveloping your nipple. Kenma suckled gently at first, tongue lapping languidly as he savored the feel of the taut bud in his mouth. His free hand palmed your other breast, rolling and plucking at the nipple until you were arching into his touch with a needy whimper.

Kenma released your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh and making you shiver. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the rosy peak, glistening with his saliva and swollen from his ministrations. Pride swelled in his chest at how responsive you were to him, at the way you trembled for his mouth alone.

"So perfect," he murmured, voice low and rough with want. "I could spend hours just worshipping these pretty breasts. Sucking and licking until you can't take anymore..."

You keened high in your throat, fingers tangling almost desperately in his hair. "Please, Kenma..."

Compelled by your breathy plea, he dipped his head again to lave attention on your other breast. He licked broad stripes over the soft flesh, trailing the tip of his tongue around your areola before drawing lazy circles over the straining peak. Your answering moan was music to his ears, urging him on.

Kenma increased the suction, hollowing his cheeks as he suckled harder. He grazed the sensitive bud with his teeth, soothing the sting with flicks of his tongue when you cried out. He alternated between lapping kittenishly and sucking deep, until your nipple was red and throbbing, until you were writhing beneath him and panting his name like a prayer.

Only then did he release you, admiring his handiwork through heavy-lidded eyes. Both of your breasts were heaving, the flesh damp, nipples swollen and glistening obscenely. The sight made heat spark through his veins, desire throbbing insistently in his core.

"Kenma," you whined, back bowing as you shamelessly presented yourself for more. "Don't stop, please..."

"Shh, I've got you baby." Kenma smoothed his hands over your sensitive flesh, massaging gently. "I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

True to his word, he ducked back down to mouth at your nipple again, suckling ardently as his fingers plucked at its twin. He kept at it for long, blissful minutes, until the world narrowed down to the heat of his mouth on you and the ache building between your thighs.

Kenma's mouth was unrelenting against your sensitive flesh, alternating between soft suckles and firmer draws that made your toes curl. He seemed determined to map every inch of your breasts with his lips and tongue, leaving no patch of skin untasted.

You arched into the wet heat of his mouth with a throaty moan, your hands fisting in his hair to hold him close. Each pull of his lips sent sparks of electricity zinging down your spine, stoking the fire smoldering in your core. You could feel yourself growing slick with arousal, empty and aching for his touch.

"Kenma," you panted, voice wrecked and needy. "Feels so good, don't stop..."

He hummed against your breast in response, the vibrations making you gasp. Encouraged by your reactions, he redoubled his efforts, suckling harder and grazing the sensitive peak with his teeth. His tongue swirled around the pebbled bud, flicking rhythmically in a way that had you seeing stars.

Just when the pleasure was verging on too much, Kenma released your nipple with a final lingering lick. You whimpered at the loss of his warm mouth, back arching in wordless invitation. He soothed you with soft kisses peppered across the swell of your breast, hands kneading gently at your flesh.

"So perfect," he breathed reverently, nose nuzzling the valley between your breasts. "I could worship these for hours and never get my fill. Love how responsive you are, how easily you come undone for me..."

Your only response was a shuddering moan, head tipping back against the pillows as Kenma continued his sensual assault. He seemed fascinated by the weight of your breasts in his palms, the plushness of them against his lips. Like he was determined to memorize every dip and curve, every hitch in your breathing.

And you were more than content to let him take his fill, to lose yourself in the magic of his mouth as he laved attention on your aching nipples. Every draw of his lips sent molten heat flooding your veins, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. You felt unbearably empty, desperate for friction where you needed it most.

As if reading your mind, Kenma released your breast with a final suctioning kiss. He raised his head to lock blown-black eyes with yours, his thumb sweeping maddeningly over your nipple.

"I've got you," he rasped, voice like gravel. His other hand skated teasingly down your stomach, over the trembling plane of your abdomen. "Gonna take care of you, give you what you need. Gonna make you feel so good, baby..."

The broken keen that spilled from your lips was completely involuntary, torn from someplace deep inside you. "Please, Kenma... need you."

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a small, wicked smile. He looked utterly debauched hovering above you, lips red and slick, golden eyes molten with desire.

Without breaking eye contact, he dipped his head to close his lips around your nipple once more. At the same time, his wandering hand slipped lower, fingertips grazing the lace edge of your panties. Your hips canted up in shameless offering, a silent plea for more that he was all too happy to answer.

Kenma took his time working you up with lips and tongue while clever fingers slowly teased your entrance, until you were writhing beneath him, until you were balanced on a razor's edge and begging for release. He brought you to the brink again and again, only to ease you back down, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from your trembling form.

Through it all, his mouth never ceased its worship of your breasts, suckling and licking until you were boneless and overwrought. Until the world fell away and your entire existence narrowed down to the pull of his lips, the slick slide of his tongue, the feeling of his dexterous fingers sliding between your soaked folds.

And when his fingers finally delved into slick heat of your pussy and crooked just so, when his teeth grazed your nipple in tandem with a particularly devastating thrust, the coil in your belly snapped. Ecstasy crashed over you in a tidal wave, Kenma's name a broken litany on your tongue as he worked you through it, wringing out every last aftershock until you collapsed against the sheets.

Kenma released your breast with a final soothing lick, pressing a tender kiss over your thundering heart. He watched you come down with a soft, reverent expression, fingertips tracing idle patterns on your overheated skin.

"Gorgeous," he murmured, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your throat, the hinge of your jaw. "Absolutely stunning. I'm so lucky you're mine."

You hummed contentedly, threading your fingers through his hair to pull him down for a slow, sweet kiss. You poured every ounce of adoration and gratitude you felt into it, hoping he could taste the love on your tongue.

"I'm the lucky one," you whispered against his lips. Hooking a leg over his hip, you rolled your bodies until he was nestled in the cradle of your thighs, exactly where he belonged. "Now it's my turn to worship you."

[hannieehaee]

MAIN THING (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after years of insistence from soonyoung, he finally convinces resident social butterfly seungkwan to introduce him to his unrequited crush; a fellow idol at hybe who he has not been able to take his eyes off since moving to the company.

content: idol!hoshi x hybeidol!reader, simp!hoshi, he's down horribly bad, seungkwan is fed up with hoshi, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 746 (teaser); 11k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: june 14th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: time for more horrendously down bad hoshi

masterlist

"Just introduce me to her. Please," whined Soonyoung for the nth time that week.

"I already said no! Just go talk to her yourself like a normal person," rebutted Seungkwan, attempting but failing at disregarding his insistent friend.

"He can't do that. Last time they made eye contact he ran to hide behind Mingyu," snickered Jeonghan, invested in this conversation whenever it was brought up.

"I just need you to get the ball rolling. Please, Kwan-ah," he pleaded as he got up in Seungkwan's personal space – a thing everyone knew not to do.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "She already knows who you are, you know. There's no need to introduce you," he muttered under his breath.

"Wait, what. She does? Like knows knows me? Or just knows of Hoshi of Seventeen?", his eyes widened in shock, grabbing onto Seungkwan's shoulders to get his full attention.

"She knows Kwon Soonyoung, dumbass. She's one of my closest friends, why wouldn't she know of you?", he grumbled, attempting to shake off his friend.

Soonyoung sighed at the short-lived hope he had of you having maybe taken an interest to him and brought him up in conversation with Seungkwan, just to have confirmation (yet again) of you simply knowing him as Seungkwan's groupmate.

It had been two, no, three years since Soonyoung had first developed a special interest in you. Thinking back to when Pledis was first acquired by Hybe, Soonyoung still remembered the first time he saw you in person very vividly.

Instantly, he developed a crush on you from the very first glance, only falling further any time you'd cross paths in the building.

He had known of your existence before that, of course, but had never truly acknowledged his obvious crush on you until he first met you in person.

Unfortunately for Soonyoung, he was far too shy and introverted to ever actually engage in conversation with you, much less slide his way into your life the way Seungkwan so easily had – Seungkwan, who had become one of your closest friends. On the contrary, Soonyoung would actively go out of his way to avoid you, never even so much as making eye contact whenever Seungkwan would bring you around.

It was easy for him to become the mockery of the members due to this. Leave it to him to have his years-long crush become best friends with one of his best friends, leading him to your constant, nerve-wracking proximity.

At some point he decided that maybe he should break out of his shell – the shell he had created specifically to shield himself from his feelings for you. He decided that instead of avoiding you, he'd do the next best thing ... which was to ask Seungkwan to officially re-introduce you to each other.

You were blissfully unaware of Soonyoung's crush, he knew that much. Did you know of his existence? Barely, as you'd only interacted a handful of times, with those always being brief and impersonal interactions. This gave Soonyoung the perfect opportunity to start brand new with you. Except he'd need the help of his most extroverted friend, who just so happened to be your best friend.

After begging Seungkwan to please work his social butterfly magic on him, he found himself unsuccessful. Seungkwan would merely scoff and tell him to grow up, leading Soonyoung to be mocked by one of the other eleven members, and then the cycle would repeat. Currently, it was Jeonghan's turn to snicker at Soonyoung's misery, it seemed.

Taking note of Soonyoung's pouty lips and saddened demeanor, Jeonghan took pity on him and clapped his hands decisively before speaking up again.

"Okay, how about you let Hoshining here take your place in doing the TikTok challenge for maestro with Y/N? If they hit it off, then you've done your due diligence, and if not, Soonie can just go get fucked. Everybody wins," he suggested as he shrugged at Seungkwan.

Soonyoung lit up at this, choosing to completely disregard the last two sentences of his suggestion. This was more than enough for him to get the ball rolling.

Immediately joining in on the plan, he turned to Seungkwan once more, ready to beg again.

"Don't say anything," Seungkwan shushed him with a lift of his finger, opposite hand now digging into his temple in what Soonyoung hoped to simply be exaggerated annoyance, "I'll do it, just, please grant me twenty minutes of silence," he pleaded.

That worked well enough for Soonyoung.

...

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[plumso]

pure heart (theo x reader)

pairing: theodore nott x reader warning: obsessiveness, possessiveness summary: y/n found theo’s journal. now, she doesn’t know how to act around him. masterlist song recommendation: sweet by cigarettes after sex I do not consent to the reposting of my work! reblogging, however, is fine <3

The days have been bleak for Y/N — nothing exciting, nothing new. 

Obsessively self-conscious, she has limited herself. She rarely attends social events and avoids any interaction with men. She fidgets in her clothes, she avoids cameras, she overthinks everything she says - it has become too exhausting. She had given up. Now, she finds everything tedious and dull.

Until she found his journal.

Sept. 4 XXXX She looks so beautiful today. I wonder if that’s her perfume, or maybe that’s her natural scent. I wonder if her skin is usually warm or cold. I want to touch her. Y/N Nott.

Sept. 7 XXXX She laughed with some guy. I hate her. She’s too oblivious around men. But she’s too cute. I could never hate her. Y/N Nott.

Sept. 8 XXXX She looks so peaceful when she reads. Haha! She accidentally fell asleep for a bit. I love her so much. Y/N Nott.

Sept. 11 XXXX That guy came up to her again. Fuck him. She looks annoyed. Oh, she ignored him. Good girl. Y/N Nott.

Y/N gasped and shut the journal. Goosebumps were all over her arms, her breath was shaky. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest, and there was this tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach. It’s as if lightning shot through her, awakening every nerve in her body. After months of feeling down and exhausted, she felt truly alive.

But Y/N tried to shake off her conflicting feelings. Despite it seeming like the sweet ramblings of a boy with a crush, some were greatly disturbing. Who could have written this?

She had found the black leather journal left on a windowsill in a hall rarely passed. She looked around, thinking the owner was nearby, but no one was in sight.

Y/N then flipped through the journal. Pages and pages were all about her with each ending off with “Y/N Nott.”

‘Nott?’ Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering why it sounded so familiar. ‘Theodore Nott?’ 

Y/N shook her head. She refused to believe that this journal was from Theo, one of the most notorious Slytherin boys of her year. He’s always so quiet and emotionless. The only interaction she had with him was from a few years ago, but it was so insignificant that it could barely be considered a real interaction.

‘There’s no way that he could have written this,’ she thought. 'But I can’t leave this here. If anybody else sees this, they would think I wrote this about myself.’

After much deliberation, Y/N stuffed the journal in her school bag and headed for her dorm where she spent the rest of the night reading each entry.

***

The next day, Y/N woke up in a daze. With three hours of sleep, Y/N got through only half of the journal. There were many, many entries with the earliest dating back to two years ago, each entry became increasingly obsessive.

Throughout the day, Y/N felt foggy and her face was a bit flushed. She would only snap out of her daze when she became aware of Theo’s presence.

Theo was in all of her classes and he sat only a few seats away from her. Y/N never thought of it much before, but now, she found it strange considering she only has one or two classes with her friends.

During class, she would keep her head down and slightly tilt her head so she could take a peek at Theo. He looked the same as always - emotionless and cold. Could someone like him write such strange and emotional entries?

Y/N considered talking to Theo to see if the journal was his. Maybe test him by asking if he lost something recently. But she was unsure if she wanted to confirm it. She didn’t know if she could face the owner’s strong, overwhelming feelings. And she was somewhat scared of what could happen next.

A few days had passed, and Y/N was becoming worried that the owner YYwill soon approach her. But she couldn’t let go of the journal yet. She was a madman obsessed. In many of the entries, the owner of the journal would describe what Y/N wore. What she ate for breakfast. Who she talked to. Some entries seemed like sweet love poems while some showed stalker tendencies.

Y/N was conflicted. She knows how deranged and disillusioned the owner was. She was scared, yes, but she also felt excited. As she continued to read, all his strange ramblings were starting to sound sweet. She didn’t know if she should be creeped out or flattered. 

But Y/N knew that her time with the journal needed to end. She knew the owner was looking for their journal. She would sometimes feel goosebumps on her back as if someone was staring at her. When this happened, she would hurriedly leave the room. She thought of placing it back where she found it, but she needed to finish reading the journal first.

So, one night, Y/N went to the back of the library and made sure no one was around. She sat on the oak chair and took the journal from her bag. She then flipped to the first page. The ink was a bit smudged and the paper was a bit worn, but it had the same neat handwriting that she became familiar with.

Dec. 3 XXXX Went to Hogsmeade today, but I left the boys.  I didn’t feel like socializing today. Headed to Hog’s Head to read for a bit. I assumed no one would be there, but I was wrong. That quiet girl Y/N was there. She was reading, too. Whatever, I’m sitting far anyways.

Dec. 4 XXXX How come I’ve never talked to her before? She is so beautiful. So sweet. What book was she reading? I’ll have to find it in the library when she’s done with it. Does she know who I am? I should talk to her. No, I don’t want her to be creeped out. I’ll find a better way to talk to her. I think I’m falling for her. Y/N L/N Nott.

Y/N was incredibly confused. What happened that could have caused such a big change? She doesn’t even remember going to Hog’s Head, much less what she did that day.

Y/N furrowed her brows as she thought hard about her trips to Hogsmeade in the last two years. ‘I have been to the Hog’s Head before… but I don’t remember anything spe-

“So, you had it.”

A dark, low voice spoke behind her. Y/N jumped in her seat, goosebumps all over her skin. Just by their voice, Y/N felt shivers run through her back and that tingling sensation in her stomach.

But Y/N couldn’t move. She was frozen, too anxious to turn around and confront him. But she knew who it was. His voice was one she knows all too well.

Suddenly, Y/N felt his warm body lightly pressed on her back. He was now standing behind her. He then slightly bent over her as he flipped through the pages of his journal.

“Here,” he said as he stopped to a certain page. “Read this.”

Confused, Y/N slowly looked up, only to be met with a smiling Theo.

“Come on. Read it for me. Please.”

Y/N reluctantly nodded. “February 14 XXXX. Some boys left candy on her table. Bunch of idiots. I threw it all away. I wanted her to only have mine. It’s mint chocolate, her favorite. I know everything that she likes. I-I’m the only one who can treat her right…” Y/N trailed off, unsure if she should say the next part.

“Continue.”

“S-she’s mine. I love her so much. She’ll see that one day. Y/N Nott.” Y/N’s breath was shaky and her mind was becoming a bit foggy. She knew this situation wasn’t normal. He’s too calm. Too scary. But for some reason, she was filled with anticipation. 

“You were the one who gave me the mint chocolate?” Y/N asked, looking back up at Theo.

He nodded.

“And… you wrote this journal?”

He smiled. 

“I was searching everywhere for the journal. My name isn’t on it, so I wasn’t worried about getting caught. But… I didn’t want any more attention on you,” Theo said as took the seat next to her. “But then you started acting strange. You would get nervous around me. It was so cute.” He chuckled and the tingling sensation in Y/N’s stomach grew more prominent.

“I’m glad you found it,” Theo said as he gently took Y/N’s hand. “Now you know how much I love you. How much I think about you.”

Y/N’s mind was going haywire. She didn’t know what to think or what to say. Goosebumps were still all over her skin, but she could only focus on his sweet words and warm hands. 

“Y/N…” he trailed as he leaned closer to her. He placed her palm on his chest, purposely trying to make her feel his heartbeat. It was racing fast. “I couldn’t ask you on Valentines, but… will you be mine?”

When Y/N read through his journal, she knew he was dangerous. His feelings were too strong, too overwhelming. He was obsessive and possessive. She was anxious about what would happen if she reciprocated.

But as she looked at Theo’s handsome face with her palm on his broad chest, she felt seen and alive. His love, his sincerity - it’s hard to believe it’s all real. And it’s too intoxicating to deny.

“Y-yes. I want to be yours."

*** bonus: hog’s head interaction ***

December 3, XXXX

“Welcome!” The shopkeeper of Hog’s Head yelled as he filled up a cup of juice from behind the counter.

Theo scrapped the snow off his shoes before entering, unwrapping the scarf around his neck. “Black coffee, please,” Theo said before walking to the table farthest from the other customer.

Theo then rummages through his bag, taking out a book and his new leather journal. He received it from a teacher who recommended writing entries of gratitude or special moments. After putting it off for months, he finally set a goal for himself to write the first entry today.

As Theo wrote his first entry, the shopkeeper placed the black coffee on the table. He then went back to refill the other customer’s cup. Theo took a sip and observed the small figure of the other customer. She looked familiar. 

The other customer looked up from her book to thank the shopkeeper. She set her book down and slightly stretched her back before taking a sip of her juice. She looks around the building before spotting Theo. She jumped a little, startled to see someone else there. She was too caught up in her book to notice her surroundings. She quickly composed herself before giving him a warm smile. She then turned back around and continued with her book.

In that short moment, Theo was hooked. When she smiled, something within him suddenly clicked. As if he was now complete. Something within him changed, his desires growing and morphing. 

‘Y/N… what was her last name again? Ah, L/N. Y/N L/N. No… Y/N Nott.’

***

a/n: i do not condone stalking or extreme possessiveness. this is entirely unrealistic and fiction. however, it is nice to imagine that a handsome man is so in love with you that he's obsessed lol. i also named this "pure heart" for irony because he views his feelings as pure, but is it really?? also, for those into smut, you can definitely imagine this leading to an s x m dynamic, so it makes the title even more funny lol. anywho, hope you enjoyed it!

here is part two for more <3

[neuroticboyfriend]

Another thing I just realized. If you isolate, especially for a long time, and then start coming out of your shell... You're not gonna suddenly be fine with being around people, being seen by others, or having social interactions.

Whatever reason you were isolating is going to follow you. You're gonna be uncomfortable. You're going to try to hide. You're gonna have a hard time trusting others and being honest about yourself. This is natural.

Change doesn't happen over night. Taking action to put yourself in social situations is only the first step; learning how to be yourself around others and who you want in your life is a whole other ballgame. It's going to take time for you to discover how you want to exist in the world.

That's okay. It's frustrating as all hell. It's scary putting yourself out there. Sometimes it might feel like you'll never connect with someone else - that you'll always be an outsider no matter what you do. You might feel stuck and doomed, but you're not.

You are capable of growth and healing. There are people who want to be your friend, who will love and support you in ways you didn't think was possible. They will be patient with you as you struggle and change. Not only that, but they'll be proud of all the progress you made, and continue to make every day.

I say this to you, and myself. I'm experiencing this firsthand, and I've been being so mean to myself for not living up to whatever standards I've placed on myself. I can't push myself to be someone I'm not ready to be, to do things I'm not ready to do. I only have today, and who I am today.

So everyday, I can put some effort into exploring myself as a social creature. I can be more gentle and patient with myself through the process. It's not going to perfect; I'm just one person, and you are too. We'll both be okay and get through this. We are allowed to take things one step at a time, one day at a time.

One day we'll be able to look back on where we are now and see how much we've grown, how much happier we are. Until then, we'll hold on for the ride and keep going. ♡