#then i started typing and i couldn’t stop

[lilirae00]

Hard Launch - Part 1

Paige x Azzi

Word count: 3k

Warnings: just fluff, enjoy :)

a/n & update: decided to make this a two-parter because I loved the idea of how they handle the launch, so part 2 coming up soon.

——

The Dallas Wings had just closed out one of their biggest wins of the season. The energy in the arena buzzed like electricity still trapped in the rafters. Paige was riding high off the adrenaline and her first career triple-double—twenty-two points, ten assists, eleven rebounds, and three steals—and now she was heading straight into the post-game press conference.

She should’ve been focused on the game breakdown. But all she could think about was the girl in the front row wearing her jersey.

Azzi.

Azzi had flown in earlier that morning, slipping into town just in time for tipoff. And now there she was—sitting courtside like a secret Paige couldn’t keep much longer. Her long legs crossed, curls pulled back in a half-ponytail, and Paige’s blue #5 jersey hanging oversized on her frame like it belonged there.

Which it did.

Paige had tried not to look too much during the game. Had tried not to stare. Had tried to stay composed when Azzi smiled at her after a tough finish at the rim. She didn’t want to give anything away.

But she was already too far gone.

Now, seated at the table with the mic in front of her, bright lights overhead and cameras rolling, Paige took a sip from her water bottle and shifted in her chair. Reporters peppered her with the usual questions—game strategy, her chemistry with her teammates, how she feels about her triple-double.

And then a different voice cut through.

“Paige, there’s been some buzz online recently—not just about Azzi Fudd sitting courtside again tonight in your jersey, but about a photo she posted a few weeks ago. Fans noticed the phone case she was holding said ‘Paige Bueckers’ girlfriend.’ Do you want to comment on your relationship with her?”

It hit like a full-body static shock.

Paige blinked. The words came before she could stop them.

“I mean… it’s not a secret,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. “She’s… she’s someone really important to me.”

A few reporters smiled knowingly. Some just raised their brows and started typing.

“I guess if you’re asking if we’re together… yeah. We are,” Paige added with a nervous laugh. “And I’m lucky as hell.”

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable—just charged. And then came the next question, and the conference moved on like nothing happened.

But Paige’s heart was pounding like it had just sprinted a full-court press.

—-

She slipped out of the press room five minutes later, ditching the rest of her team’s entourage to head back toward the tunnel. Her hands were jammed in her pockets, and her hoodie was pulled up over her bun like a kid trying not to get caught skipping school.

When she rounded the corner and spotted Azzi waiting near the bench, that nervous beat inside her exploded.

Azzi was standing casually, still wearing the jersey, arms crossed and eyes locked right on her. Paige stopped short a few feet away.

“Hey,” she said.

Azzi tilted her head, lips curling into something equal parts amused and affectionate. “Hey.”

“Sooo… I might’ve… hard launched us.”

“In the press conference?” Azzi asked with a hint of surprise.

Paige nodded slowly. “Like… national media hard launched.”

Azzi walked forward, closing the distance between them. “What’d you say?”

“That you’re important to me.” Paige looked down, then back up. “That we’re together. And that I’m lucky.”

Azzi’s smile deepened. “You are.”

Paige let out a breathy laugh. “Don’t gas me up right now, I’m freaking out.”

“You’re fine.” Azzi reached up, gently pulling Paige’s hoodie back. “You looked hot tonight, by the way.”

“I scored twenty-two points,” Paige said, mostly to hide how much her cheeks were burning.

“And you still couldn’t stop looking at me,” Azzi teased.

“Not my fault you looked like a walking fantasy in my jersey.”

Azzi leaned in, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

Paige stilled. Not because it was the first time—it wasn’t—but because it always landed with the same quiet force.

“I love you too,” she said. “Even when you make me sweat bullets in front of a dozen reporters.”

Azzi laughed and took her hand. “Let ‘em sweat. You’ve got nothing to hide anymore.”

—-

They kicked off their shoes the second they walked into the apartment. Paige dropped her bag by the door and tugged off her hoodie, the post-game haze finally catching up to her. Azzi didn’t say much—just beelined to the couch, where she threw herself down, still wearing Paige’s Wings jersey and looking completely at home.

Paige walked past the kitchen. “You want tea?”

“Nope,” Azzi called, already pulling out her phone. “I want the internet.”

Paige groaned, spinning on her heel. “Please tell me you’re not checking Twitter.”

“I am absolutely checking Twitter,” Azzi said, already scrolling. “We’re trending.”

“Kill me.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay wait—listen to this one. ‘Paige Bueckers dropping “she’s someone really important to me” like she wasn’t about to break every sapphic heart in America.’ And—wait—‘Hard launched like a NASA rocket and I’m here for it.’”

Paige flopped down next to her and let her head fall into Azzi’s lap. “Why do I sound like I was about to propose?”

“Because you kind of did,” Azzi said, brushing fingers through her hair. “You were nervous. But it was adorable.”

“I was losing my mind,” Paige muttered into her thigh. “I think I blacked out after I said ‘important.’”

Azzi laughed. “You said you were ‘lucky as hell’”

“God.”

“You want a massage? I feel like that level of emotional panic requires some kind of body work.”

Paige grinned into her lap. “Maybe. But only if I can pretend I’m not seeing every post about us.”

Azzi kept scrolling with one hand while the other gently worked at the knots in Paige’s shoulders.

She continued to read the tweets out loud so Paige could hear.

@wnbafanatic: UMMM PAIGE BUECKERS JUST CASUALLY CAME OUT AND SAID AZZI IS HER GIRLFRIEND???

@wingsupdates: Paige saying she’s “lucky as hell” re: Azzi has me kicking my feet.

@queerhoops: We finally got the #Pazzi confirmation we needed and DESERVED. 🥹🏀💙

@barstoolcollege: Paige & Azzi might be the power couple of the decade.

@pazzi4life: Yeah okay, fork found in kitchen. We been known, Paige. 🥹

Paige sighed and turned over to sit up beside her. “Okay. Real talk?”

Azzi nodded, instantly setting her phone aside.

“I wasn’t scared to tell our parents when we did. Or our friends. Or the team. I mean, they already knew,” Paige said, pulling the blanket up over both their legs. “I was scared to tell… them.”

“The world?”

“Yeah. The internet. The fans. The media. All of it.”

Azzi watched her, quiet.

“I’ve spent my whole life being ‘Paige Bueckers,’ you know? This brand, this idea, this… golden girl. I didn’t know how people would take it if I let them see you. Us.”

“You didn’t want to break the illusion,” Azzi said gently.

“I didn’t want to give them something to tear apart.”

Azzi leaned closer. “I get it. It’s not nothing, coming out publicly. Especially in our position.”

Paige looked down at their hands. “I didn’t want anyone to ruin this.”

Azzi squeezed her fingers. “Then don’t let them. They don’t get to touch this unless we let them.”

Paige exhaled. “You’re so sure.”

“I am,” Azzi said. “Because I love you. And I’m not scared of people seeing that.”

Paige was quiet for a beat. “I think I am… but I’m done hiding more than I’m scared of being seen.”

Azzi smiled. “Then we’re good.”

They leaned into each other, kissing slowly, wrapped up in warmth and familiarity. The rest of the world faded out with each soft brush of lips, each lazy laugh between kisses. Eventually, Azzi tugged Paige down with her, their bodies curling together beneath the blanket.

Paige shifted so her hand brushed under the hem of the jersey Azzi was wearing. Azzi responded instantly, deepening the kiss, hands moving to Paige’s waist.

“I meant what I said,” Paige whispered into her mouth. “You’re mine.”

Azzi’s breath hitched. “Then show me.”

—-

Paige stirred awake to sunlight leaking through her bedroom curtains, warm and golden across the sheets. For a minute, she didn’t move—just let herself feel the weight of Azzi’s arm across her stomach, the soft rise and fall of her girlfriend’s breath at her shoulder.

Everything was still. Quiet. Safe.

And then it hit her.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, eyes widening.

Azzi blinked awake beside her. “Mmm?” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Paige turned her head slowly. “I said it. Out loud. On record. In a press conference. That we’re together.”

Azzi smiled into the pillow, eyes still mostly closed. “You did.”

Paige groaned and rolled onto her back, covering her face with both hands. “I hard launched us in front of the national media.”

Azzi laughed now, fully awake. “And it was kind of perfect.”

Paige peeked through her fingers. “Was it?”

Azzi propped herself up on one elbow. “Yeah. You were honest. Sweet. Brave.”

Paige went quiet for a moment. “I wasn’t trying to be brave. It just slipped out. But then afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the people who are gonna have opinions about it.”

Azzi’s smile softened. “You wanna talk about it?”

Paige exhaled, turning onto her side to face her. “It’s not that I didn’t want people to know. I just… we’re already so visible, you know? Everything we do gets watched, commented on, judged. Coming out—publicly—it feels like giving people even more to pick apart.”

Azzi nodded slowly, eyes full of understanding. “I get it. I felt the same way.”

“When you asked me if you could post the phone case selfie, you were so sure. Were you not worried?” Paige asked.

Azzi smiled. “I was, but I wanted you to know I was ready, even if you weren’t yet.”

Paige’s heart clenched a little at that. “You weren’t trying to speed up the launch?”

“No,” Azzi said immediately. “I just didn’t want you to think I was ashamed or hiding.”

“I never thought that,” Paige said softly. “I’ve just been scared. Not of being with you—never that. Just scared of what people might say. The fallout. The attention.”

Azzi reached out and laced their fingers together. “The people who love us already know. The rest will catch up or get over it.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we still have us,” Azzi said. “And I think that’s enough.”

Paige nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think it is too.”

Azzi leaned in to kiss her forehead. “You’ve got practice soon, rookie. Better get moving.”

Paige groaned again. “Think if I fake a sprained ankle, Coach’ll let me skip it?”

“Not a chance.”

—-

Practice was in full swing when Paige jogged into the gym, hair still damp from her shower and a faint flush clinging to her cheeks that had nothing to do with running drills.

Arike was the first to greet her.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Paige ‘lucky as hell’ Bueckers,” she teased, grinning from across the court.

Paige rolled her eyes. “Oh god. Not you too.”

“Rook, the entire internet is quoting you.”

Dijonai walked by and bumped her shoulder. “That was a hell of a hard launch.”

Lyss followed, looping her arm around Paige. “More like a detonation.”

Paige groaned. “Y’all are relentless.”

“Hey,” Arike said, smirking. “We’ve known about you two forever. You just made it public. We’ve been sitting on our hands not tagging Azzi in thirst tweets out of respect.”

��You’re welcome,” Dijonai added with a wink.

Lyss leaned in. “But for real… we’re proud of you.”

Paige looked around at her teammates—all smirking, playful, and totally in her corner.

“Thanks,” she said, meaning it.

And just like that, they were back to business. But Paige felt different. Lighter. Stronger. Seen.

And lucky as hell.

—-

Later that week, Paige and Azzi were getting ready for a charity gala. The apartment smelled like curling iron heat and perfume. Music played low in the background, a chill playlist on shuffle while the girls moved around each other—Azzi perched at the vanity in a silk champagne dress, Paige pacing near the closet in a deep navy suit that clung to her frame in all the right places.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the floor,” Azzi teased, watching Paige pace.

Paige paused mid-step and met her eyes in the mirror. “You look so good it’s actually stressful.”

Azzi smirked as she added a dab of highlighter to her cheekbones. “We’re just going to a gala.”

“We’re going to a gala sponsored by my team, where we’ll walk a red carpet together, as a couple, for the first time,” Paige countered, adjusting her cuff links. “I think stress is valid.”

Azzi stood and walked over, smoothing down Paige’s lapel with practiced ease. “Then let me help you chill out.”

She leaned in and kissed her—softly, just a breath of pressure—and Paige visibly relaxed.

“You ready now?” Azzi asked.

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Let’s blow up the internet.”

—-

The car rolled up to the venue entrance, where a navy carpet stretched out under bright lights and a flurry of camera flashes. Other players and VIPs were already arriving in designer fits and sparkling gowns, but the energy shifted the moment Paige stepped out in her suit.

A few cameras flicked toward her—then froze when Azzi followed, hand sliding into Paige’s as they walked.

There was no hiding it tonight.

Photographers lit up like fireworks.

“Paige! Over here!”

“Azzi, give us a smile!”

“Ladies, together, please—look this way!”

Azzi felt Paige squeeze her hand.

“You okay?” she whispered.

Paige looked at her and smiled, “yeah let’s do this.”

Paige kept Azzi close, one hand securely on her waist as they posed together in front of the Dallas Wings media wall. When Azzi leaned in to say something, a photo caught Paige mid-laugh, head tilted, entirely smitten.

“Y’all are trending already,” muttered one of the Wings’ PR staff with a grin, holding up her phone.

As they made their way inside, Paige felt the nerves start to dissipate—not because the cameras stopped, but because Azzi was calm. Confident. Like this was just another date night. Like it was safe.

The event buzzed with Dallas media, corporate sponsors, and familiar WNBA faces. Paige and Azzi moved from group to group—greeting Wings staff, chatting with teammates and partners, posing for a few more photos inside.

“Paige, wow,” said the team’s marketing director as she shook her hand. “You clean up nice. And Azzi—so great to finally meet you in person. We’ve seen you at games, of course, but it’s nice to put a name to the face.”

Azzi smiled graciously. “Likewise.”

“You two look amazing together,” the woman added, almost in a hushed tone, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to say it.

“Thanks,” Paige said, squeezing Azzi’s hand. “We feel amazing together.”

A few feet away, one of the event’s older donors—a man in a crisp gray suit—caught sight of them and leaned in toward a colleague. “Oh, that’s Bueckers’ friend. The UConn kid.”

Paige heard it.

Azzi did too.

And while Azzi gave the man a gracious nod as they walked past, Paige didn’t let it slide.

She slowed, turned slightly, and said loud enough to be heard: “Actually, this is my girlfriend. Not just a friend. I know the difference.”

The man stammered—something about meaning no offense—but Paige was already walking away, Azzi’s hand tucked tightly in hers.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Azzi said quietly.

“I wanted to,” Paige replied. “I’m not letting anyone downplay what we are. Not anymore.”

—-

They collapsed into the Uber like they were finally exhaling after holding it in all night. Paige tugged her tie loose while Azzi kicked off her heels and tucked them beside her on the seat, her bare feet sliding over the leather.

Azzi leaned back, dress pooled around her thighs, and opened her phone. The screen lit up instantly.

“Oh my god. We’re everywhere,” she said, scrolling through mentions. “Twitter. TikTok. WNBA Reddit. There’s a clip of you calling me your girlfriend with this dramatic music under it. The lesbians are unwell.”

Paige grinned and rested her head against the cool window, one arm casually draped across Azzi’s lap. “Good. Let ’em spiral.”

Azzi clicked over to her camera roll and scrolled until she landed on the photo—the one from the carpet where Paige had her arm wrapped tight around Azzi’s waist, both of them looking at each other instead of the camera, smiling like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

She held it up. “What about this one?”

Paige glanced over and immediately nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

“We posting it?”

“Together?”

Azzi smiled. “Hardest of hard launches. No going back.”

Paige sat up and reached for her phone too. “Let’s do it.”

They sat side by side in the dark Uber, phones glowing between them as they each uploaded the photo.

Azzi typed first:

“Couldn’t be prouder to stand beside you, on and off the court 💙 #HardLaunch”

Paige stared at her screen for a beat, then typed:

“Took my shot & she said yes 🥹 #LuckyAsHell”

They looked at each other and tapped post at the same time.

Seconds later, their phones lit up in tandem—likes, comments, reposts already flowing in like a tidal wave. But for once, Paige didn’t care what any of them said.

Azzi leaned into her side. “How do you feel?”

Paige turned toward her and answered without hesitation. “Like I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.”

Azzi’s lips curled. “Not even your triple double last week?”

“Not even close.”

She took Azzi’s hand, threading their fingers together.

“Tonight,” Paige said, eyes locked on her, voice low and warm, “you made me feel like the most complete version of myself. And it’s not because of the cameras or the suits or the headlines. It’s just… you. You make me feel like I don’t have to hide any part of me.”

Azzi swallowed, visibly moved.

Paige leaned in and kissed her—soft, but certain.

They pulled back only when the driver cleared his throat and announced, “You’re home.”

But in Paige’s head, the word didn’t mean the apartment.

It meant the girl sitting next to her.

[freakthatdoesthewriting]

💌 — Changing Yourself?

Hector / Gn Reader ; fluff , dying your hair , curious hector , worried hector , post love route with hector

Type — Drabble ; Inspired by me starting at the vent above my head in our bathroom when i was dyeing my hair

Not proofread! Sorry for any mistakes

——————————————————————

“What are you doing?” A familiar, concerned, voice came from above your head. Eyes and hands poked out from the air vent above your head, and despite the intrusion, you gave Hector a bright smile.

“Dying my hair.” You said simply, turning to look at him more comfortably.

“But… Why?” He sounded concerned and confused, like he truly couldn’t fathom why you’d be doing this. You didn’t think he didn’t understand the concept of dyeing your hair though, just why you specifically would be doing it.

“I just felt like a change.” You smiled at him but he didn’t even seem to register.

“B-But! You don’t need to change! Why would you ever need to change, your perfect as you are…” His voiced raised just enough for you to see how concerned he was.

It wasn’t that Hector was against change, it was scary to him yes, but he understood it had to happen, what he was against is the idea that you had to change yourself. The thought that you felt the need to change, when he saw you as something so perfect as you are made his heart break.

You gave him an affectionate look, heat rising to your cheeks at his admission of finding you perfect. It was so Hector to be caught up in something like this.

“It’s not like that, Hector.” You started, thinking of the best way to word your thoughts.

“I wasn’t unhappy with the way I looked before, I just thought it would be fun to do something different.”

Hector paused, fiddling with his hands in thought. The silence worried you, and without thinking you spoke again.

“Will you feel differently about me if i change…?”

Hectors eyes widened and he literally jumped out of the vents so he could see you face to face.

“Mi Amore, changing your looks would never make me feel any differently about you. You are… You… and as long as you’re still you my love for you will only continue to grow. Nothing in this world could change that.”

He reached out for you but stopped before he touched you, silently asking for permission to hold you, to feel you. You grabbed onto his hand and moved it to your face, making sure to steer him clear of your hair. He caressed your cheek ever so gently, and you both sat there quietly for a moment, basking in the comfort of each other.

“Why were you so quiet before…?” You asked hesitantly.

Hector looked away, like he was ashamed, but he quietly answered you. “Truthfully… I do not like change… It scares me. What if something goes wrong, what if this small change leads to something bigger, what if the changes take you away from me…”

You laughed, not in a mocking way, in a gentle affectionate laugh.

“Nothing could take me away from you Hector.”

“You promise…?” His eyes were pleading, desperate to hear you say the word.

“Promise.” An affectionate smile spread across your face as his relaxed for the first time since he showed up.

You brushed your knuckles against his cheek, a gentle, affectionate gesture. He gave you an awkward smile, but his eyes were filled with love and adoration that was unmistakable.

“Do you want to keep me company?” You asked.

Hector beamed and nodded his head. The rest of the time was spent enjoying each other’s company. Hector even helped you rinse the dye out of your hair. And he was honored to be the first to see it, and the first to say how stunning you looked too. Who knows, maybe one day Hector would let you dye his hair.

[fashionteahouse]

Can you do one where Paul or Embry accidentally walks in on one of the wolves getting it on, but when the girl looks up they imprint? It kinda blows up right in Emily’s house considering it was happening upstairs and the wolf gets jealous of his new imprint literally being intimate with another guy in front of him.

Thanks! 🌸🌸

haha sure this is an interesting idea ! hope you enjoy :)

perfect stranger - paul lahote x reader

Tugging on your hand in his large but warm hand, Embry’s kind eyes that made your heart stop, encouraged you to come along.

A summer get together was happening at his friend Emily’s home.

“Her fiancé installed a new pool.”

That’s what had you sold.

Things were okay between you two. It started casual, a fun night out after meeting at a sports bar. He was funny and kind. Being in his company was nice.

“We can see how things go.” Was what you said one night. You found yourself wanting to be around him more and more, not even caring if you two didn’t have sex.

“Okay. You want to put a label on it?” He asked softly with hope.

You pondered about it for a moment.

“Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?” You replied. He smiled at that sentence.

You were touched that he wanted to bring you around people he seemed to care about.

He opened the front door, coming in as if he lived there. The woman directing a brawny boy to carry a cooler outside was standing with her hands on her hips, turning around to see who entered her home.

Her smile broke out as she greeted you both.

“Embry. Who’s this?”

“Y/N. Y/N, this is Emily.”

“Hey. Nice place.” You compliment.

“Thanks! You’ll love the new pool way more.”

This made you smile.

“Where’s your swim suit?” Emily asks.

“Oh. In my bag in the trunk.” You answered, you couldn’t believe you left it.

“Alright, I’ll grab it.” Embry says as he walks off.

“And Y/N, feel free to change in the bathroom- I even have a guest room that you can go in if someone’s using the bathroom.”

“Cool. Thanks so much.” You replied, and just then Emily leaves off, closing the backdoor behind her. Embry comes in with your bag and guides you to the bathroom.

The bathroom fan was on, ventilating the room. Embry shut the door behind him as you immediately was staring at yourself in the mirror, peeling off your shirt to reveal your bare chest.

His hands place on your bare shoulders and you look in the reflection to see his mischievous smile. It made you break out a smile.

Hands shoved in his sport shorts, Paul moved his long legs towards the small cozy home.

Earlier during patrol, Sam insisted that Paul should show his face, claiming that Emily missed him. He didn’t understand it. He liked to stay out of the way. What Emily missed about him, he just didn’t know.

He heard the commotion around the back of the home. Hearing the splashes and screams of glee as he moved closer.

Entering the home, taking a break from the beating sun, he helped himself in the fridge, cracking open a can of cold soda.

He stood at the sink, not wanting to leave to go outside yet. Crushing his can, he made his way upstairs to the bathroom.

As he stood at the toilet, the sound of urination echoed the bathroom and he flushed.

As he came out of the hallway, he heard noises. A mixture of a soft sigh and a low chuckle. Curiously, he inched closer to the sound. The crack of the door allowed him to see the activity.

Embry has you lifted, your arms were around his neck as Paul saw perfect view of your face. He was never a peeping Tom, he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away, walk away from the sight of you.

Pleasure was on your face as your eyes were cracked shut with your mouth slightly opened. He knew very well that he could’ve done a better job at making you feel pleasure. You wouldn’t have been this quiet. Your quiet moans that he was able to pick up with his sensitive ears, he felt that they were too pretty to be quiet. He hadn’t seen you around before. To have some type of mystery in his life, he didn’t mind. He didn’t know what your favorite color was, he didn’t know what made you cry and what made you laugh. In his mind, you were the perfect stranger. He was about to back away, that’s when your eyes opened. They were hooded, but he felt that they were beautiful as they looked into his.

His world stopped. He couldn’t move. You were trapped in his eyes as you stared at the handsome face that watched you be in a bear hug from Embry.

Paul’s wolf growled lowly and dangerously. It trickled out of his mouth. You felt like you were cheating on someone and Embry was confused by your paused response.

“Y/N…Whats wrong?”

You only push him away, stumbling away from him. Paul backed away some from the doorway, hearing Embry asking you again what’s wrong.

Paul rested his back against the hallway wall as his fists were clenched. His wolf howled with claim of you. Another man, another wolf, had their hands on you. That’s supposed to be him. He was supposed to make you feel tingles from the top of your head to the balls of your feet.

Embry followed you out of the room after you speedily adjusted your swim suit. Embry stopped in his tracks when he saw Paul in the hallway. So did you.

Paul glared at Embry as if he personally offended him.

“What the fuck, Paul? You were watching?” Embry raised his arms a bit, furrowing his eyebrows.

That was his name.

Paul.

You mentally tucked it in your brain to remember it.

“I was not watching. Sam’s gonna be pissed that you were fucking in his house.” Paul threw out. Fucking someone who is his imprint.

“What’s it to you?”

“Everything.” Paul says as he gets more and more agitated.

Embry scoffed and took your hand. You watch Paul’s eyes look down at the joined hands and you take it out of his, putting it a bit behind your back. Paul smirked at Embry’s hurt expression.

Embry was always observant, he saw the way Paul looked at you. How he stripped you with only his eyes.

“She’s my girlfriend. Mind your business.” Embry warned.

Twenty four hours earlier, you would’ve been beaming and jumping at the sound of Embry claiming you, but it felt wrong. All wrong.

Paul didn’t like the sound of the word “my” coming out of Embry’s mouth. It sounded wrong. All wrong.

That’s when, Paul shoved Embry. Hard.

“Yeah. Fucking your girlfriend in someone else’s house, real fucking romantic. What happened to a real date?” Paul bitterly spoke out with an expression that was scowled.

Embry shoved him back, Paul’s back hit the wall. Paul huffed as they both lunged for each other.

You gasp with widened eyes as they both tackled each other. Jumping over them, you ran down the stairs. Searching for anybody in the backyard, you scream out.

“Embry is upstairs fighting with…Paul.” You say and you pause after saying Paul’s name. It sounded graceful from your lips. You barely registered people getting up and running past you to meet where they were.

You heard yelling and commotion from the home. Emily gives you a concerned look. You look down, feeling to be cause of such brawl but, you couldn’t find a reason to blame yourself.

Embry stormed out soon enough, grabbing your hand. His eyes were hardened.

“We’re leaving.”

“We just got here.” You say as you felt a bit sad, you wanted to stay. You felt like you needed to stay.

“Don’t grab her like that. She’s my imprint.” You heard a deep voice bell out.

You didn’t know what an imprint was. But, you did know, it had something to do with Paul.

A burst of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you grew hot in the face. Paul had his arms crossed, looking deeply disapproving of the joined hands. You slipped your hand back out of Embry’s hand.

“She’s not! It’s a mistake!” Embry exclaimed with great frustration.

“Our spirit warriors make no mistake.” Paul says in a taunting manner. Embry clench his jaw as you move away from Embry, Paul stepping closer.

“Stay. Away. From. Her.” Embry threatened.

“How about you stay away from her.” Paul threatened back, taking menacing steps towards him. The spike of excitement within you was shameful, but you forgot to soak in the shame.

A man, older than them all, stopped the man named Paul. He had his hand on his chest and that’s when Paul paused his steps, but didn’t pause his glare. The mature man thrusted his thumb behind himself, gesturing towards the home.

“Embry, how about you take a breather.” He suggested.

“Sam-”

“Take a breather. Then, come back.” but the way that the man named Sam had said it, did not leave it open for no discussion.

“Y/N, how about we take a dip in the pool?” Emily came over to encourage, trying to lighten the mood up. The other boys were making their way back to the pool. One boy flipped into the pool and the other one resumed the upbeat music.

“Sure.” You answer quietly as you let her link your arm with yours.

You look behind yourself as you walked towards the pool that contained pool toys and activities. Embry glared at Paul before entering back into the home.

Paul looked at you as if it was his duty to make sure nothing happened to you. You felt like you were floating. It felt like time had stopped and you didn’t want to ever go back to before, when things were normal. You wanted this to be your new normal. You wanted to uncover the deep mystery with this man named Paul. You wanted to let him know that he was worth it. That he deserved you. That he was the perfect stranger.

[st4rymoon]

. ݁˖ . Red Handed

𝘋𝘉𝘍 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳

• Continuation/request for our secret

Warnings: suggestive, kissing, pet names, age gap (reader mid-twenties x Simon late 40s), angst, arguing, touchy Simon cause you both to get caught :(

Laundry day was in full effect and like always, you had to ask your dad for a shirt. But just like his daughter, price had his last pieces of clean clothes on. Procrastination ran in the family.

“All in the washer now, I’ll go check if I have one in a bag somewhere” price sighed as he lazily walked up to his bedroom.

You groaned in anger at yourself, you should’ve packed some extra shirts knowing you got rid of clothes for some spare cash for college.

“Ha!” You heard your dad yell from his room, you could hear his footsteps making their way to your door “found one of Riley’s old shirts he left here, I’m sure he won’t mind” he smiled as he threw you the shirt.

You thanked him with a convincing smile, nothing is going on with Simon. Don’t react to the mention of his name. Nothing is going on!

You sighed with relief as he made his way down the stairs and off to tinker with his car. You put on the shirt and smiled to yourself as you turned around to see Simon Riley plastered on your back in big bold letters.

He sure took his claim before but you’d sure keep this shirt for safe keeping.

-

Simon stopped in his tracks, a case of beer in one hand and some tools your father forgot at his place a few weeks ago.

He was faced with you, back faced to him as you cooked yourself something to eat. You were blissfully unaware, headphones on and focused on your food.

You couldn’t feel of the eyes that stalked you, Simon stared in amusement as he admired you. Claimed with his name on your back, he didn’t know he needed this as much as he did.

You jumped as you felt a hand pull at your headphones “Branded you in your family home, now your walking around with my name on your back? Jus’ begging me to make you a Riley huh?” Simon cooed.

“Simon!” You hissed as you looked around for your dad. You don’t know how he’d react to Simon this close to you, but you could guess it wouldn’t end well.

“I know bunny I know.” He chuckled as he took a step back “looks good tho huh?” You teased with your eyes gawking up at him from behind your shoulder.

Simon wishes you were both alone. God how he wishes this little scene was playing out in his house. So he could bend you over the counter and fuck you in his shirt.

He groaned at your words, a gasp leaving your lips as he presses up against you “sure does” he hums as you hold onto his arms, giggling as he presses a kiss onto your neck.

“NOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!” You hear your father’s voice booming from behind you both. You could feel your heart drop as Simon went still.

Both of you scrambled back from each other, faced with your father’s disappointment and betrayal. “Dad I- I’m sorry we should’ve told yo-“ there was no use to lie, so the only thing you could think of doing is coming clean.

You were cut off by your father’s voice “Simon”. The sound of his name was full of betrayal, malice, and anger.

“I never meant for this to happen price. After all you’ve done for me, after all you’ve helped me throug-“ Simon muttered.

“EXACLTY! After all I’ve done for you, you had to have thi- this, whatever type of relationship this is with MY DAUGHTER!” Price hissed.

Price was furious, disappointed, and heartbroken. He trusts Simon with his life, neither had secrets the other didn’t know. Until now. You. His little girl. The reason price never gave up.

He walked up to Simon, eyes furrowed with an emotion price himself could not understand. But simon stood still knowing whatever price did, it was justified for what he’s done. “I- how? When did this start?” Your father’s eyes glared at the both of you.

“Almost a year” Simon sternly replied “And I know you’re pissed price, probably want to bash my head in and i understand that. But I don’t regret a single thing.”

Your eyes glared up at Simon in disbelief and affection, he doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret you, even with your father’s eyes burning into both of you.

But most of all, you’re surprised that your dad hasn’t bashed Simon’s head in. He was always a overly protective father, always scaring your boyfriends to death, and always making sure you were safe.

But this is unlike anything price had to deal with, his best mate kissing on his daughter. He was furious, yet he knew Simon. He is a man of very few words, lacked experience when it came to emotions. He told Simon he knew he’d find someone soon. He just never expected it would be you.

His precious daughter, the light of his life.

“Get out” Price couldn’t look Simon in the eyes, his eyes glued onto his boots as the words came out. “Simon, get out” it was stern and full of anger. Simon didn’t say a word, all he did was nod and gave you a look that told you he’d be back.

-

The house was silent. You and your father sat in the living room, your hands on your thighs as you fidgeted with your hands. “Dad, I know your mad. I know you proably hate me and hate Simon but I’m not a little girl anymor-“

“Yes you are! You are my little girl forever. You always will be. I know you’re grown darlin’ I know it. It’s jus- with Simon? I know I was gone for a while, my job was time consuming and isolating. But why go for someone so much older than you honey?” You knew what your father was hinting at.

Simon was nearly the same age as him, only a few years younger than your own father. Price felt like he had failed in a way. What made you want a man like Simon? Older, brooding, and his best friend.

“My liking for Simon has nothing to do with you dad. You’re an amazing father, and I know you’re thinking about asking me what you did wrong. Sure he’s older, but he treats me the way I know you’d want me to be treated.“ you continued on, trying to ease your father’s anxiety and anger over the situation.

It was only until you heard that familiar sigh. The sigh he does when he knows you’re right but he has his doubts.

“I don’t know honey” your father sighed. “I know Simon, he will give his life for the ones he loves. Bu- but you’re just too young, this is too close to home. Simon will want a family soon, settle down. You, you’re in college and I won’t allow you to just throw away your life for this.” Price sternly spoke.

“I understand dad. But I never said I’d throw away my college or my life for this, you know how much I’ve put into it, Simon knows it too.”

Silence washed over you both once you spoke. Price didn’t know how to feel, what to think. All he knew is he was disappointed. He always hoped you’d find someone to love you, protect you, and keep you safe.

He knew Simon could do all of it and more. He knew Simon would never let you throw away all your hard work for him. He trusted him with his life, but does he trust him with you?

Yes.

But is he really ready to say it out loud?

[camficdiner]

1.2

2.10

3.1

4.3

i think you’re gonna cook with this one 🙏🏼

☕️Cam’s Fic Diner – Order 025

Thank you for your sweetness and patience — this one’s been a journey, a fully on fluff journey, with regrets and tears,

Enjoy your meal love, its served with honey glaze

-your favorite server

⸻

💬“She Had Your Eyes”

✨ Description & Prompts

• Character: Quinn Hughes

• Prompt: Drunk marriage in Vegas, accidental pregnancy, emotional confrontation

• Word Count: ~2.1k

• Type: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family

🛼✨🧁🍒

Las Vegas was supposed to be a quick getaway. A fun escape from your routines, a wild weekend with friends, some bad decisions and blurry photos. You never expected to wake up in a luxury suite at The Cosmopolitan, your mouth dry, your head pounding, and Quinn Hughes sleeping next to you — shirtless, tangled in the hotel sheets.

And definitely wearing a wedding band.

You sat up too fast, blinking at the ring on your own finger. Your heart thudded, first with confusion, then with a growing pit in your stomach. The echo of last night’s chaos slowly filtered in — the shots, the dance floor, the neon lights, Quinn’s laughter, his arm around your waist. You remembered a chapel. Pink. Elvis impersonator. The words “I do.”

“No,” you whispered. “No, no, no.”

A low groan came from the other side of the bed. Quinn.

He looked just as wrecked as you felt: messy curls sticking up in every direction, red-rimmed eyes, shirtless. And when he sat up, he mirrored your horror as you both stared at your left hands.

“We didn’t—” he started.

“We did,” you said grimly.

You both lunged for your phones. Sure enough, your camera rolls confirmed it: a chapel, a very happy officiant, and you and Quinn grinning like idiots with glitter in your hair and rings on your fingers.

Quinn Hughes, your very complicated friend-with-benefits, your maybe-something-more-but-never-defined, had married you. In Vegas. While drunk.

You remembered the sex too. Vaguely. It had been good—scratch that, amazing. But also messy and unexpected and clearly not thought through.

Quinn freaked out.

He stood, muttering about mistakes and how this couldn’t be real, how he had to leave. You tried to talk to him, to get him to calm down, but he was already pulling on his jeans, grabbing his phone.

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled.

“Quinn—”

He was gone before you could stop him.

⸻

Three days later, you stared at the two pink lines on a pregnancy test.

The silence of your bathroom was deafening.

You weren’t sure how you got there. How from a half-joking night in Vegas, a half-relationship with Quinn Hughes, you ended up alone, with a baby on the way. You hadn’t heard a word from him. Not a text. Not a call.

And that’s when you saw it. A story. A post. A girl — tall, blonde, draped over him like she belonged there. And the caption: “My whole heart.”

Your throat closed. He hadn’t ghosted you because he panicked. He hadn’t vanished because he was scared. He was with someone else.

You were just the detour. The accident.

So you did what you had to: you called your brother.

He showed up twenty minutes later, no questions asked, and held you while you sobbed. Then, slowly, piece by piece, you began to rebuild.

The months passed. The bump grew. Your brother went to every appointment with you, holding your hand while you heard the heartbeat for the first time, while you picked names, while you decorated a nursery in your new apartment.

And you tried—really tried—not to look at Quinn’s Instagram.

But you saw it anyway.

The James Norris Trophy. A clean suit, his proud smile. “Couldn’t have done it without the team.”

Then, a month later, an Instagram story from Porsche Centre Vancouver: “Thrilled to welcome Quinn Hughes as our newest brand ambassador.”

Each announcement was a dagger. Because he was out there, living his best life, achieving everything he’d ever dreamed of—and you were in the quiet of your small apartment, folding newborn onesies and wondering if he ever thought about you. About that night. About what you were now carrying.

You didn’t want him back. Not after he ran. But part of you, some deep, aching part, wished he would at least ask.

Because even if your heart was fractured, your body swollen and tired and aching, you were growing something beautiful.

And he didn’t even know.

—

The hospital lights were harsh, too white, too real for the blur of pain and panic you were in. Your fingers clenched around the side of the bed as another contraction hit, tearing through your spine. You were alone, but not lonely — not anymore. Because you weren’t doing this just for yourself.

You were about to meet the only constant that had stayed with you since that night in Vegas. And she was coming fast.

You screamed, you pushed — and suddenly, everything fell away.

The nurse’s voice filtered in through the haze. “It’s a girl.”

Your chest heaved. Your hands trembled as they placed her on your chest, slick and warm and alive. The world narrowed to a heartbeat and the softest cry.

And then you saw them.

Her eyes.

Deep blue a touch lighter than yours, with some green in it. Familiar. Exactly the same shade as his.

Quinn.

You’d spent the past nine months trying not to think of him. Trying to erase the weight of the Instagram post that shattered your heart — his smile beside her, captioned “Heart”

But now, here she was. With his eyes. The proof that Vegas wasn’t just a mistake. It had left you with someone permanent.

You named her Olympia.

⸻

Three Years Later

Vancouver in early spring was always wet and green. You’d found peace in its stillness, a small rented flat near the sea, and a part-time job at a bookstore that let you be home by three.

Olympia ran ahead on chubby legs, clutching her red balloon and squealing as the ducks in the park scrambled. Her hair curled in soft brown waves. Her laugh was infectious. She was everything.

And yet —

You still looked him up sometimes.

You knew Jack had moved closer. That his family still spoke well of you.

But you never reached out.

And then you saw them.

Two figures coming down the paved path, side by side. Quinn and Jack. Laughing about something. You froze mid-step, your heart doing a strange, sharp twist.

You hadn’t seen him in person since that morning in Vegas.

Quinn stopped first.

His eyes scanned you, then softened in surprise. His lips parted slightly, like a question was sitting on his tongue but hadn’t formed yet.

Jack said something, but you didn’t hear it.

“Hey…” Quinn’s voice was quiet, unsure. “It’s been a while.”

You nodded, tensing your jaw. You were about to reply when you heard her.

“Mama!”

Olly’s voice rang out, bright and high, and she came toddling over, arms outstretched.

You bent to scoop her up, hugging her to your hip like muscle memory. You didn’t look at him yet. Not yet.

But when you did—

Quinn’s face had changed.

His eyes locked on Olympia.

Then flicked to you.

Then back.

His expression folded inward, shock overtaking confusion. Because there, in your arms, was a little girl with his exact same eyes. The same curl in her hair. The same shape to her mouth.

His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “She’s yours?”

You didn’t say anything.

He didn’t say anything.

You saw it in his eyes before you heard it in his voice — the slow-burning panic blooming behind his irises, the sharp, silent question written in the twitch of his jaw: She looks like me. How is that possible?

Quinn stared at your daughter like she was the answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask himself in three years. You adjusted her on your hip, her tiny hand curled around your necklace as she blinked up at the stranger. Stranger to her, anyway.

“She yours?” he asked, voice raw, cautious.

“She’s mine,” you answered carefully, but your voice cracked under the weight of truth, and you saw it land.

That hurt that bloomed over his face—it was real.

“But is she…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

You nodded once. “Yes. She’s yours, Quinn.”

His breath caught. It wasn’t relief—it was devastation, thick and swallowing. He stepped back a little, like the truth physically hit him. Jack said something behind him, but it was muffled, distant. This was Quinn’s storm.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly.

You looked down at your daughter, then back up at him. “Because you left me. You ran out of that hotel room like I was a mistake, and a few days later, you were posting pictures with your girlfriend on Instagram. I found out I was pregnant the same week.”

Quinn was silent.

“You didn’t even check if I was okay,” you continued, words trembling now. “You never texted. Never called. I thought you didn’t care. And I wasn’t going to beg someone to be a father who didn’t want to be there.”

Quinn’s hands were shaking. “I didn’t know how to deal with it. I panicked. I was scared—”

“You were selfish, Quinn,” you snapped, more pain than anger. “I was terrified. I went through pregnancy alone. I gave birth alone. I’ve raised her—every scraped knee, every nightmare, every milestone. Alone.”

Tears brimmed in his eyes.

“I never wanted you to be alone,” he whispered. “I was a coward. I thought if I ignored it, it would disappear. But it didn’t. You didn’t. And now she’s here and she looks at me like she knows me and I—”

He stopped himself, choking on the weight of it all.

“I want to know her,” he said finally. “Please. Let me try.”

You didn’t say yes. But you didn’t say no.

—

It started small. A text asking how she was doing. A message asking what kind of books she liked. A FaceTime where she shyly showed him her dinosaur pajamas. And slowly—like thawing ice—he melted into her life.

He came to the playground and pushed her on the swing. She reached for his hand without hesitation.

He showed up at your door with her favorite muffins and left with marker drawings all over his forearms.

The first time she called him “Dad,” he cried. Quietly. You saw it, though. And your heart cracked open.

Then came the big things.

Introducing her to Ellen and Jim. Watching Jack fall in love with her in five minutes flat. Quinn holding her on the bench of a Canucks pre-game warmup, helmet on her head three sizes too big.

And one day, he stood in front of you, nerves in his fingers, and said, “I left her. A while ago. The girlfriend. I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to show up like a white knight.”

“You’re not a white knight,” you replied. “But you’re trying. That means something.”

He took your hand. Carefully. “Can we try too?”

You blinked. “Try what?”

He smiled, small and real. “Us.”

Your daughter ran between you both just then, laughing with her pigtails bouncing, and without thinking, you reached out together—one hand each, steadying her between you.

You looked at her. Then at him.

And for the first time in three years, you let yourself believe that maybe… just maybe… things weren’t broken.

Just unfinished.

——

It started with a question, whispered one quiet evening in your daughter’s room.

Quinn had come to tuck her in like he did now every night he was in Vancouver. She’d taken to calling him “Q” at first, unsure of what else to call him. Now it was “Daddy.” Sometimes “Daddy Q,” when she was being silly.

That night, as he settled the stuffed unicorn into her arms and brushed her dark hair behind her ear, she blinked up at him with those same eyes. His eyes.

“Daddy?” she asked, voice small. “Are you and mommy married?”

Quinn blinked. He glanced over his shoulder at you. You smiled softly, already knowing this day would come.

“Kind of,” he said, trying to be gentle. “A long time ago. But not… not properly.”

She frowned. “I want it to be properly.”

It stayed in his head all night.

And three days later, as the two of you stood on your balcony, wine glasses in hand, watching the Vancouver skyline glow like it was holding your secret, he turned to you.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to be my almost-wife. I want you to be my real wife.”

You turned to him, stunned.

He didn’t go down on one knee. He just took your hand, kissed the ring that never left it — the one from Vegas you never dared to take off — and added softly, “Let’s do it right this time.”

⸻

The wedding was small. Intimate.

Held in Vancouver, at a garden you’d always loved as a child. Your daughter wore a white dress with tulle wings sewn onto the back. She walked down the aisle holding a little velvet box, cheeks flushed with excitement, while Jack — proudly grinning — waited at Quinn’s side as best man.

Your dress wasn’t flashy. It was soft, elegant. Your bouquet was wildflowers. And as you reached the end of the aisle, your daughter took your hand and placed it into Quinn’s, the whole garden holding its breath.

Quinn looked at you like it was the first time. Even after everything — the mistake, the heartbreak, the rediscovery — he still looked at you like you were the beginning and end of his world.

“I do,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

You couldn’t stop the tears as you said it back.

⸻

The reception was simple — a long table under strings of lights, family and friends all gathered. Jack toasted to “the only couple I’ve ever known who got married in reverse order.” Your daughter climbed into Quinn’s lap halfway through the cake. He fed her the icing off his finger, kissing her temple like he’d never lost a single day.

Later, you danced to no music under the stars, her asleep in her flower girl dress in your mother’s arms.

“I always meant it,” he whispered in your ear. “Even back then. Even when I was scared. I’ve loved you every damn second.”

You pressed your cheek to his.

“Then here’s to forever.”

And in the warm hush of the garden, his lips met yours.

What happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas.

It just…

Came home in time.

⸻

[skzjiiiii]

The Bad Boy Hypothesis pt 5

pairing: rock band felix x academic achiever reader! 🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

texting smau!

genre: group project partners to lovers? kys/kms jokes, cursing! college AU, reader and felix are literally the complete opposites of each other. felix is lowkey like a fuckboy type of guy. Actually it's so highkey now because he's acting like a MANCHILD but who knows he might actually man up and redeem his ass. There's a bit of actual writing in here! summary: what happens when you're paired up for the campus "bad boy" lee felix for your biology class? will thing end well or are you just another toy for him to play with.

bad boy hypothesis: a bad boy will always be bad — charming at first but bound to break your heart.⭑.ᐟ

“bad boys are just a distraction wrapped in a leather jacket”

wc: 1270

Later that night:

You weren’t sure why you agreed to meet him.

Maybe because part of you needed to see if he’d lie to your face. Maybe because despite everything, a small, stubborn part of your heart still wanted to understand why. Why he pulled you in like a tide and then wrecked you like a storm.

Felix stood in front of you, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes tired and red-rimmed. He wasn’t the usual confident, cocky Felix you met in BIO 350.

He looked… wrecked. And not because you were watching. But because he knew he broke something precious. “Thanks for meeting me,” he started, voice hoarse. You didn’t respond. Just stared.

He took a step forward, then stopped himself. “I don’t know where to begin. You probably don’t want to hear it. But I need to say it anyway.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your face still. “Say it, then.”

Felix looked down at the ground, like it was easier to confess to the pavement than to you.

“I kissed her. I was drunk and stupid and… scared. Scared of how much you mean to me. Scared of how real you felt.”

His voice cracked on the last word, but he kept going.

“You make me feel like I’m not some messed up cliché. You looked at me like I was more than the rumors, more than what everyone says. And that… that scared the shit out of me.”

He looked up, eyes meeting yours, guilt and desperation swimming in those deep brown eyes.

“I’ve never had anything like this before. No one’s ever seen me the way you do. You brought me back to life in ways I didn’t think were possible. Before you, I didn’t think I deserved good things. I didn’t think I deserved love.”

You looked away, your throat tightening.

“I didn’t kiss her because I wanted her. I did it because I wanted to destroy something before it could destroy me,” he admitted. “I was self-sabotaging. But when I saw your face after… when I saw what I did to you… I’ve never hated myself more.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t wipe it away.

“You were the one who made me believe in love again. Real, soul-warming love. I’ve never felt safer than when I was next to you, hearing you ramble about biology over matcha lattes, or laughing with my band like you belonged there all along.”

“I know I messed it up. I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I just need you to know… I love you. I’ve loved you for a while now. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t know how to handle that.”

Silence stretched between you like a thread, thin and fragile.

He took a breath. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I couldn’t let you think you weren’t everything to me. Because you are.”

You looked at him then, not the bad boy, not the campus heartthrob. Just a boy who was scared of love until it stared him in the face and he blinked first.

And suddenly, that silence didn’t feel so heavy anymore. You stayed quiet.

Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because the words in your chest were all tangled up, like wires that once carried music but now only sparked and stung when you tried to untangle them.

Felix stood there, waiting. You hated how familiar he looked. Hated how your heart still ached toward him like a bruise touched too soon.

“I believed in you,” you said softly. “I defended you when everyone warned me. Told them you were different. Told them you’d never hurt me.”

He flinched. His shoulders curled inward like he was trying to make himself smaller.

“And then you kissed someone else. Not just anyone. Chaewon. At a party you invited me to. And I had to watch. Do you know what that felt like?”

Your voice cracked. The tears had been sitting in your throat since that night. Now they spilled, hot and silent.

Felix stepped forward, but you held up a hand. “Don’t.”

He froze.

“I showed up for you. Over and over. I made time for you when you forgot about me. I sat through your rehearsals, studied late into the night, waited outside your classes just to walk home with you. I let you in. I made space for you in a life I worked hard to build.”

You looked up at him, heartbroken, but still burning with a kind of quiet strength. “And I guess I wasn’t worth the same kind of fight.”

Felix shook his head, quick, desperate. “You are. You are worth everything. I was just— I didn’t know how to handle someone like you. Someone who saw through me. Someone who made me feel like I wasn’t broken anymore. And I ruined it.”

His voice trembled, but you weren’t sure if it was guilt or grief. Maybe both.

“I’m not asking you to forget what I did,” he said. “I wouldn’t forgive me either. I just—I need you to know it wasn’t meaningless. You weren’t meaningless.”

There was a long, aching pause. The kind that happens when two people know they’re standing at a fork in the road and nothing will ever be quite the same again.

Finally, you whispered, “I never needed you to be perfect, Felix. I just needed you to be honest. To try.”

“I’ll try now,” he said, stepping closer, slower this time. “I’ll do it right, if you let me. If not now, then someday. I’ll earn it back. All of it. Even if you never want me again, I’ll still become the kind of person who deserved you.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know what came next. You didn’t know if healing would look like walking away or choosing to stay.

But one thing was clear: Felix wasn’t running anymore. He had finally shown up, not just with words, but with everything broken and bruised inside him laid bare for you to see.

And maybe, just maybe, that counted for something

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a second, you saw it all.

The soft-shelled boy underneath the bad-boy persona. The quiet warmth. The trembling heart. The one who baked you cookies at midnight and wiped your tears when the world was too loud. The one who called you “sunshine” like it meant something sacred.

But also the one who broke you. The one who let fear ruin something tender. The one who kissed someone else when you were starting to believe in forever.

Your throat tightened, but your voice stayed steady. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Felix.” He opened his mouth, but you shook your head gently. “I’m not saying it didn’t mean something. I know it did. But I’m also not someone you come back to when you realize the other option didn’t feel right.” His eyes glossed over, but he nodded.

“I’m not gonna make a decision right now,” you said. “I need time to think. To feel. To breathe.”

His lips parted. “So you’re saying there’s still?”

“I’m saying I’ll text you.” Your voice wavered, but the truth in it held. “When I’m ready. When I know what I want. Not just what I feel right now.”

He blinked, like those words had knocked the air out of him.

You gave a small, broken smile. “Goodnight, Felix.”

Then you turned and walked away, and for once, he didn’t try to stop you. Because sometimes, love isn’t proven by the chase.

Sometimes, it’s proven by waiting.

[voidinblve]

perfect strangers ; two — satoru gojo

part one!

pairing ; onlyfans creator!satoru gojo x reader

words ; 1k

about ; a fic in which gojo satoru is a popular onlyfans creator who asks for your instagram handle on a rainy day. you don't know who he is. he finds that kinda hot.

warning(s) ; eventual smut, eventual fluff, no curses au, no jujutsu society au, satoru gojo is a very popular onlyfans creator, shameless talks about sex

chapter specifics: flirting, onlyfans, descriptions of sex (oral), description of sex (p in v), cringe gojo flirting

authors note ; a little shorter, trying to juggle this with other fics and work. smut in the next chap!

You forced yourself to take a shower before even daring to look at your phone again, still sitting at its place that you had put it in time out, the far corner of your desk. You tried to focus on normal things like shampoo, conditioner . . . the satisfying click of your body wash bottle. You even took your time wrapping yourself in the softest towel that would somehow ground you back into reality. 

But the second you stepped out and saw that little black rectangle waiting across the room, all self-control vanished. You didn’t even dry your hair as you marched across the room and picked it up. And . . . yep, still there. 

All happy in the notification like you won some type of prize: satorusix requested to chat.

You stared at it for a full thirty seconds. Processing. He requested to chat. He didn’t just follow, he wanted to talk. You opened it and there it was, waiting like a trap. 

satorusix: Hey, barista. 

You started typing, then deleted it. Started again. Deleted. Were you supposed to be cool? Sarcastic? Ignore him entirely and pretend that you weren’t sweating in a towel with dripping wet hair and a mental spiral labeled Satoru Gojo in your DMs? You stared at the blinking cursor like it held all the answers. It didn’t. Eventually, you decided to just type and send. 

you: Is this part of your attempt to get more OnlyFans followers? Stalk the barista? 

You flung your phone across the bed like it might explode. It didn’t. It vibrated. Twice. 

You lunged for it. 

satorusix: Rude. I don’t need more followers. But if you do want to follow back and support the arts, who am I to stop you? Did you look at my videos yet?

Staring at the screen, you were caught between laughing and launching yourself into orbit. This was unreal. This man was unreal. Somehow both a walking ego and a fully functioning flirt machine. And no, you hadn’t looked. You couldn’t. It was . . . wrong. 

Although, no one would know. 

Going back to his profile, your finger hovered over the OnlyFans link for only a moment before clicking on it. Just one peek, for scientific reasons only. The site loaded slowly, a little bit too slowly like the universe was trying to judge you. And then . . . bam. There he was, shirtless and smirking, leaning against a kitchen counter with some other woman who was barely dressed herself. The caption read: new content just dropped, you’re welcome. There was a video underneath, like a little preview of paid content wrapped in a little bow. 

You couldn’t help but click it, just like everything else. The video started out vanilla enough, both of them sitting on the bed and just talking and touching each other a little bit. She was giggling and kissing him, taking off his shirt like it was the easiest thing in the world. The camera cut and they were both in their undergarments, Satoru on top of her and his hands exploring her body. His voice was low and teasing, the same way that he talked to you over the coffee counter. The girl whined, her fingers inching towards the waistband of his boxers and then the video cut again, her mouth fully wrapped around his perfect cock on her knees in front of him. 

And oh, oh god. He looked perfect. Like he was some statue that had been carved into stone. His abs were chiseled, lean muscle, with that same cocky grin at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at her like she was his favorite sin. You stared, somewhere between horrified and aroused. You really shouldn’t be watching this, seeing him like this with his hands in her hair, jaw clenched, head tilted back in pleasure. You weren’t supposed to feel the heat crawl down your spine at the sound of his low groans as he praised her through gritted teeth. The camera panned to the next scene and you watched as she was bent over the side of the bed like it was nothing, him pounding into her like it was all he needed to stay alive. His hands gripped her hips with the kind of possessive focus that made your breath hitch, his pace was relentless. 

Your hand had gone still on the blanket beside you, your thighs clenching underneath the towel. It wasn’t just porn, it was him. And now you couldn’t unsee it, couldn’t unhear the way he moaned. You definitely couldn’t forget the look in his eyes as he told her she was doing so good for him. You felt flushed and stupid and achingly turned on. 

satorusix: sooooooo, did you look yet? 

Your soul left your body. 

You hadn’t even moved from the last position, still curled in the towel, still a little too warm everywhere, still reeling. 

Another message popped up. 

satorusix: it’s okay if you did, i mean, i’d look too if i were you. you curious, barista?

Swearing softly under your breath, you buried your face in the nearest pillow. He was teasing you. Probably sitting somewhere, shirtless, smug, thrilled that you were in a full-blown mental meltdown because of a free OnlyFans preview. And the worst part? You were curious. A little bit more than curious. 

you: you should really consider a warning label.

satorusix: well, it is onlyfans.

You bit your lip, smiling despite yourself. 

you: you’re exhausting.

satorusix: sooooooo coffee tomorrow?

you: i’m a barista. coffee is kinda my life. pass.

The bubble of him typing popped up and then dropped down. It didn’t come back up. You stared at the screen way too long, suddenly way too aware of how quiet your apartment was. It was the kind of quiet that made you hyper focus on every single second that passed by. He always replied fast. And now, nothing. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was a joke. 

Maybe he was over it. Maybe you’d killed the vibe. 

Pretending like it wasn’t a punch in the chest, you threw your phone to the side of your bed and got ready for bed. When you got back and snuggled under the covers, you went to grab your phone to set your alarm for the morning. Though, a bright notification greeted you. You must’ve not even seen or heard it while you were dressing. 

satorusix: lunch it is! pick you up at 1. send me the addy. 

[cass-1]

౨ৎ —his little secret first ending — ౨ৎ

It was the next morning, your phone was flooded with messages last night. Simon was begging for you to hear him out. You felt sick to your stomach at the thought of him with somebody else— even though he did fuck you over.

You rolled over onto your side as you awoken from your deep slumber, picking up your phone to a dozen missed calls and messages— who could these be from, you thought sarcastically. Obviously you were right, it was Simon. The messages read,

“Princess, I promise I didn’t mean to hurt yu, please forgive me, darlin”

You rolled your eyes as you scrolled down at the messages, what a jerk, this is clearly an act.

“baby, princess. I can explain everythin’ jus’ give es a chance.”

You started typing back, “..what Simon, what now? you’ve already hurt me enough..”

He instantly responded— as if he hasn’t slept. “I promise I’ll change, for you darlin’ jus’ look at what I’ve left yu outside.”

Your eyebrow lifted, your eyes shooting a confused look at the screen as if he could see it. What was outside? You quickly got up, slipping your feet into some slippers that were by your bed, rushing to the front door.

You stared outside the window before unlocking the door— making sure this wasn’t just some crazy bullshit of a hoax.

There stood a massive bouquet of lilies, mixed with some pale pink roses, and peonies.

“..god, what a crazy bastard.” You said to yourself as your picked up the bouquet of flowers, your hands delicately wrapped around the massive bunch. You couldn’t lie, he sure did spoil you with a million flowers. However his actions still weren’t good enough.

“Just flowers?” You typed back on your phone after putting the bouquet on the kitchen island. He messaged back instantly

“I have one more surprise.” You read it, waiting for some sort of hint of what it was— nothing, he said nothing else. You sent a few messages— asking what it was and all he did was leave you on read, it made you curious.

Fast forwarding to 7:34pm, your phone pinged as you were lying down on the sofa, enjoying some of your favourite soap operas. You stared at the phone before jumping up, almost eagerly

“8:00pm, be ready.” Simon messaged after hours, you almost began to miss him— you quickly threw on a nice maxi dress, one that hugged your body and showed just enough skin, not too much of course.

And just when 8:00pm hit, there was a knock at your door, you hurriedly headed to open it, your hands still busied with putting your other earring in, you opened it. He was wearing black tuxedo that hugged him, in the right places. His hair was messy but presentable. His brown eyes like polished chestnuts.

“beautiful.” He mumbled, but you heard. You felt yourself smiling before biting your lip.

“Not too fast, Simon.” You stopped him, looking at him with your big doe eyes. The eyes that always got him.

“Let’s head there, we don’t wan’ be late now, do we?” He said holding a hand out, you taking his in yours.

“course not.”

You both got into his car, him opening your door for you, what a gentleman. You both went to a fancy restaurant, the one he loved. Coming home to yours— sharing intimate cuddles in bed, your head on his chest and his hand playing within your hair.

You stared at the ceiling as he stared down at you, until you spoke up,

“So c’mon then, tell me why you don’t want anything with me.” You said boldly

he responded softly, “it’s not tha’ I don’t wan’ it with yu, it’s the thought of one. It’s jus’ av’ never been in sumthin’ serious.” You understood where hd was coming from

“it’s hard bein’ in the military with a partner, Y’know.” He added, “still no excuse.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’ I mean it with all honesty, please let me show yu, I love yu.” You looked up at him as he said if, your cheeks growing a rosy pink with love.

Simon leaned down gently gave you a kiss on the lips, before you got more intimate, adding in your own tongue motions. You both pulled back and fire things got out of hand, not wanting to start off your relationship like this.

You lead in his arms till you both fell asleep, his rough fingers gliding gently over your arms, doing a soothing motion of circles. His hands playing within your hair, being all soft.

Tough ol’ Simon actin’ a baby?!

Might’ve yapped a little here 😭

[imma-soft-beeboy]

I can imagine reader gifting tfa Jazz soooo many cool trinkets of human things. Lava lamp, hot wheels car of his alt mode, an actual traffic light if reader is brave enough, fake snow, beach sand in a jar, pressed flowers, stress ball that looks like Earth, fuzzy pink car dice, and more. Jazz is running out of room on his shelves from all these gifts.

A/N: I agree here's a small fic about you giving Jazz his newest gift.

Warnings: None all fluff (maybe some slight angst if you squint cause you don't see Jazz as much as you wished).

[My Collection] TFA Jazz x reader - Word Count: 778

Jazz was always busy, something he hated because he would much rather be out exploring this new, hip planet they were on. It was teeming with small organic life forms, and all of them had their own unique possessions. Everytime he thought he had seen it all he was proven wrong and a new item would be pulled from one of their many carriers. He was fascinated. In fact, in his free time Jazz loved to admire and document said items. He had quite the list of items he had noticed the humans using in their day to day. But the day he met you that list changed from on paper to physical.

At first it started as just small explanations using things you had on you. The small, round shiny items were coins; a type of currency. And humans called their visors, glasses. Some glasses could be tinted to make ‘sunglasses.’ Then it turned into you bringing him more items; items you insisted on him keeping.

The first item you ever brought him was a lava lamp, Jazz remembered it like it was yesterday. He had gone to meet you in the park –because Sentinel would have a fit if humans came onto the Elite High Guard ship– and he found you on a bench holding the long teardrop shaped item. You’d held it out to him triumphantly, showing off the glass manship and liquid inside. Listening with baited breath, he slowly reached out to touch the said item. As he was cradling it, that's when you dropped the metaphorical bomb that he could keep it. That, actually, you had specifically bought it for him.

Flabbergasted, Jazz tried to return the item to you, but you pushed it back into his servos, insisting. You said something about the item reminding you of him. When he further hesitated you added that actually it complimented his personality. Finally, Jazz caved before carefully stashing the lava lamp in his subspace, making sure it wouldn’t be broken.

Since then you had been relentless with your gifts.

So far you had brought him records, hot wheel cars that looked like him or his autobot friends, beach glass, several pressed flowers, and DVDs. When he tried to explain to you that you really didn’t have to bring him these gifts, you decided to rebel by bringing him increasingly daring items. A construction traffic cone, followed by a stop sign, and at one point a mailbox. These antics were quickly put to an end, he didn’t want to see you get into trouble. 

As a truce the next time you saw him you brought him a friendship bracelet, and you spent an hour explaining the complexity behind them. How friends generally crafted them together and traded them before wearing them forever as a sign of true friendship. After this lecture Jazz made it a point to hang the bracelet on his rearview mirror.

The next time you two met he bashfully explained that he had failed at crafting his own bracelet so he had decided instead to put your gifts on display. Pulling out a data pad he showed you the picture of your gift gallery now carefully shelved on the back wall of his habsuite. Joy sparked in your chest and encouraged you to continue bringing the bot gifts.

The next wave of gifts were much more personal. Car wax for him to use, or a Cybertronian friendly USB of human music that was able to be downloaded onto his datapad. It was sweet and made his spark warm; made him count the moments until he saw you again.

Today he nearly got caught twice by police speeding to the park to meet you. He couldn’t wait to see what you had brought him this time. Upon entering the park, though, he noticed that whatever you had brought could not be seen easily. In fact, it looked like you had brought nothing at all.

“Did you finally quit,” Jazz joked as he approached you.

“No,” you bounced your leg, “I brought you something… a little more abstract today.” He frowned at your demeanor.

“Do tell,” he encouraged. You let out a deep breath before leaning close to him, and in return he leaned forward as well.

“I brought you a kiss,” you murmured before closing the gap between you two and locking your lips to the bots. Jazz almost jumped at the sudden movement, but held his ground. Pulling back you looked anywhere but his face, your own a beet red.

“What a sweet surprise,” Jazz cooed, making you look up at him in shock. “I think this one is my favorite yet.”

[404-sturniolo-not-found]

(A/N: We are gonna try this. This is chapter 1. Depending if this flops or not, there might be a chapter 2.. :))

TW: implied violence and murder, discussion of graphic crimes, gaslighting, manipulation, psychological tension, suspension (If i forgot any, I'm SORRY)

CHAPTER 1; Eyes in the shadows

Casey wasn’t the paranoid type.

She prided herself on being level-headed, even when things around her got weird. And lately, Boston had gotten really weird. The news was full of blood—murder after murder, all connected, all brutal. All marked by that same mask: Ghostface.

But even with all the horror piling up on the front page, Casey’s nights with the Sturniolo brothers always felt like a break from the madness. Their apartment was a second home—cramped, chaotic, and full of the kind of warmth that made her forget how dark the world was outside.

Or at least, it used to feel that way.

It started small.

That night, she’d shown up a little early. Matt had texted her to come by, but when she got there, the door was slightly cracked. She knocked, called out, but no one answered. Thinking nothing of it, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

The apartment was dim, lit only by the blue flicker of the TV. The usual clutter was there—hoodies draped over chairs, empty energy drink cans on the counter—but something was off.

She noticed it right away.

The hallway light was on, and the door to Matt’s room wasn’t fully closed. Voices filtered out—quiet, urgent. She recognized them instantly: Matt, Chris, and Nick. But it was the way they were talking that made her freeze.

“…it’s not clean. I told you not to leave it like that,” Matt said. His voice was low, sharp.

“I didn’t, bro, I swear,” Chris snapped. “You saw me. I wiped everything—”

“Not everything." That was Nick. Cold. “The mask was on the floor, Chris. The floor.”

Casey’s stomach dropped.

Mask?

She stepped back quietly, heart racing. Her heel knocked into something on the floor—an empty beer bottle that rolled forward with a clink.

The voices stopped.

In a flash, the door opened. Matt stood there, his face unreadable, expression smooth as ever. But his eyes—his eyes looked different.

“Case?” he asked, his tone casual, like she hadn’t just heard something she clearly wasn’t supposed to. “You good?”

She blinked. Forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry—I thought no one was home. Door was open.”

Matt stepped into the hall, closing the bedroom door behind him with a soft click. “We were just talking about something stupid. Chris being dramatic, per usual.”

Behind him, she heard hurried movement—Nick’s voice muttering something she couldn’t make out.

Chris emerged a second later, too loud, too bright. “We are dramatic, babe, that’s why you love us.”

Casey let out a forced laugh, but her hands were clammy.

Matt led her to the living room like nothing had happened, and Nick offered her a drink like everything was normal. And maybe it was.

But when she glanced down the hallway a few minutes later, she saw it: the edge of something white peeking out from under Matt’s door.

A sliver of plastic. Like the curve of a mask.

She said nothing.

Just swallowed hard and smiled, even as a cold wave rolled down her spine.

Something wasn’t right.

And for the first time since she met them, Casey wasn’t sure if she was safe in that apartment—

—or trapped in it.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Random thought I had 🙏

doomguy can absolutely GROWL, we know this right?

Imagine if he just starts doing that randomly whilst your cuddling him, like laid flat down on one another type of cuddling. You’re just chilling when all of a sudden you hear a fucking rumbling from his chest.

You lift your head up, confused and then the sounds stop. Your eyes meet his for an answer, and he just looks away. Seemingly… embarrassed? You weren’t sure.

“What was that?”

The man beneath you is somewhat miffed, yet a waver of something else spills through his carefully concise poker-face. He raises his brows. You only furrow yours with questioning, already seemingly figuring it out yourself. Something tugs at your lips, as if a light-bulb went off in your head, “Do it again.”

His gaze snaps to you the moment you utter those three words, eyes widened. You shrug your shoulders, tilting your head as if you had just won a fight. Or maybe it was just you being in your shenanigans again, one or the other. But that was your uniqueness that had him utterly enraptured, but also confused at times.

You clasp your hands flat together, elbows digging into his chest—you weren’t sure if that really bothered him but you didn’t care right now—you inhaled with the most utterly sad sopping cat face you could muster, then made him the target.

“Please?”

Not as if you had to pull this act anyway, he already had caved. But this made him feel bad, so he sighed, shoulders going lax with an exhausted—but warm, and impossibly loving—expression. If nothing couldn’t kill him, then it’d be you who could. Cause he couldn’t handle that look anymore.

He grips your wrists, firm—not unkind, and pulls your hands apart. Hands seemingly engulfed yours as he pulled you close, same as before. You grinned with a breathless laugh as you heard the growling rumbling the expanse of his chest. It felt nice to your ear, you nuzzled your cheek into him, and simply deflated with a content sigh.

“You should do it more often.”

Oh yes, you definitely were going to be the cause of his heart stopping one day.

[miiuswn]

All yours.

warnings: 18+, smut, , pet names, unprotected sex, harsh words, orgasms, dirty talk, slapping, f receiving (let me know if i missed any ^^) WC: 504

———————————————————

It was currently 3:45AM and you and your boyfriend were still wide awake. Meanwhile you were Just thinking about how hot and sexy your boyfriend would look underneath you right now. Just the smell of his cologne was enough to turn you on, him being completely naked only covered by his boxers next to you wasn’t making it any better. The more you kept thinking of it the hotter your body got. It was unbearable, you craved him more than ever.

“Stop eye fucking me” said niki with a light chuckle. “mm don’t think so highly of yourself, just thinking” “whats on your mind baby?” Niki wasn’t just any regular soft guy, he was the type to take control and man handle you every time in bed. “Just thinking about how good you would feel inside me” slightly raising his eyebrows he replied “mmm oh yea..? How about we make that happen” knowing your boyfriend he was probably as eager as you were. you instantly crawled into the bed hungrily on top of him kissing him like there was no tomorrow. “Slow down baby..” niki let out as he whimpered. The more his hands touched you the wetter you got, and you didn’t waste any time taking off every piece of clothe attached to both of you. “Mmghh..” you let out a soft moan as you sunk down on his dick. “f-fuck baby, craving me this much huh..? What a dirty slut” he claimed as he gripped your waist. “uh-huh.. only for you” you said as you were panting heavily practically moaning every time you opened your mouth. “mm.. you feel so tight and wet..im gonna.. cu-cum” every second felt heavenly, bouncing up and down rapidly not wanting to stop. “Mmgh.. dont you fucking dare..” as you let out the loudest moan, almost sounding pornographic it was hard for niki not to cum all deep inside you. “F-fuck..” he couldn’t take it anymore. he let out the loudest moan as he cummed all over your throbbing pussy. “what did i say mmhuh??.. not to cum til i told you so” you slap his face leaving a red mark, he was obedient. Not because he was scared, but because of how into it he was, And he wasn’t gonna leave you unfinished. He pulled you down placing you flat on your back as he started leaving soft kitten licks on your clit which got even faster as you were close to having an orgasm. “Holy shit… niki…” arching your back every time he placed his warm tongue on every spot that triggered you, pulling his hair throughly. “Right there..im so close..” your breathing started to quicken, the faster you came. Making a sticky mess all over his face. “Uh..huh, bossing me around yet im the one finishing you off this good” he says while he moves his fingers tracing your boobs. “Round 2?” He suggests with a slight smirk on his face. And you knew he would keep you up all night long. Without stopping.

[chaconnewon]

idk if you write this stuff but... 😭 wonnie tying you up cause it "maximizes" the senses when in reality it's just his kink

𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇! 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅. ♡

double knot ─── y.jw

contains: unprotected sex(don't do it), cumming inside, praising, slight overstimulation, rope kink. wc: 1k(1296).

‘’Since when are you reading those types of articles?’’ You arched an eyebrow.

His expression softened, just a bit. But his eyes were still sparkling with anticipation. Jungwon's hands were fidgeting a bit, like waiting for your green light to proceed. You were speechless at first, how did your boyfriend end up asking you that? Not like you weren’t interested in trying and exploring new things but something in his eyes… He was so enthusiastic about it.

‘’It's true baby! Being tied during sex is expands your senses and makes it a better experience for you.’’

‘’And what about you?’’ You came back, arms crossed above your chest.

‘’M–Me what?’’ His voice shuddered a bit. 

Jungwon knew you weren't dumb, and always had a purpose behind his actions or words. Sure, ropes, restrictions… were fun and exciting for sex, maximizing your other senses. Feeling his touch more noticeable, being able to smell his body scent but you were just curious. Why now? Why all of a sudden?

‘’J–Just let me try, okay? I will enjoy it anyway.’’ 

You pretended to think about it for a second. Since he was so eager to tie your arms and legs, and you didn’t mind it at all… you could surely give it a try.

When you nodded, something in the air and his gaze shifted. He started to kiss you slowly, like he was releasing his pent-up emotions since he asked for that. He wanted to take it slow, not rushing things so both of you could enjoy the moment. While his lips were moving against yours, his skillful hands found your pants, hooking his finger in the hem of them and sliding it unhurriedly through your legs. 

His palms caressed your thighs, deliberate, tempting. Soon they ascended through your stomach, your muscles tensing under his touch. In one swift movement Jungwon discharged your top too, leaving you just in your underwear.

‘’If it hurts, if it’s too much, please tell me, okay? I will stop immediately.’’

You nodded, melting inside because of his concern.

While you sat pretty in his bed, he shifted to his night stand to take out the ropes. Your curious gaze lingered on them. They were red, thick. And something twisted inside your stomach. Excitement? Nervousness? Fear? You couldn’t tell, but soon his words appeared in your mind, relaxing your body a bit. Jungwon came back, settling beside you.

‘’Put your arms together.’’ His voice was… rasp, almost breathy. Like the idea of you being tied up was too much for him. You pressed your arms together in front of you, elbow to elbow, wrist to wrist. Gently but firm Jungwon started to pass the rope around your arms, firmly.

Your eyes looked at him: on his face was a soft blush spreading slowly, and his breathing was a bit ragged. He tried to stay calm but the heart spreading through his body was making it difficult. You looked so pretty tied with that red, tick rope. He finished with a few knots, making sure the rope wasn’t going to fade. 

Despite your hand being free the restriction was notorious, only able to pull your arms a bit up and down, but that was all. You couldn’t reach him nor touch him. 

Jungwon gently pushed you until you were lying on your back. It would be a lie if he say he didn’t wanted to toss you around, put your body on your knees and fuck the shit out of you. But he had to contain himself since it was the first time for both of you. He didn't want to scare you and even though it was his biggest kink, he thought about you too, your comfortness and wellness. 

‘’Spread these pretty legs for me, would you?’’ he asked, almost a whisper.

You complain with no problem, spreading your legs widely for him to look directly at your clothed core. There was a damp patch on the center of your panties, exposing how you silently were enjoying it. 

‘’Oh? Someone is already enjoying it too much.’’ He teased.

You tossed your head  to one side, ashamed. Jungwon chucked, shaking his head.

‘’I’m gonna take these off, alright?’’ With your approval, he slides your panties through your legs and drops them to the floor, letting them be forgotten.

His mouth drops open. The sight in front of him was magic–like. You spread, bare pussy exposed for him to use, arms restricted with the red ropes, and that pretty blush covering your face. Fuck, that was must be a dream. A big good dream. Your chest rose and fell with anticipation, your eyes following every move he made.

‘’Shit, you look so pretty like this.’’ He muttered, his fingerpad slightly brushing your glistened pussy lips. You jolted, arching your back a bit off the bed. And tried to grab something, him or the sheets –but you just couldn’t. Jungwon noticed it and made him harder.

He got rid of his own boxers, kneeling between your legs. His tip gently pressed your entrance. Slowly he started pushing it inside, inch by inch, feeling how your gummy walls were stretched for him, warm and wet. You bite back a moan the moment he bottomed you out.

The scene was too much for him to handle, shutting his eyes to not cum undone inside you.

‘’Sh–Shit, you feel so good.’’

His hips rolled into your, unhurried but deep, trying to reach spots inside you he never hit before. And fuck, how good did that feel. You didn’t know what to do with your useless arms, which rested on top of your chest. Jungwon leaned over you, one hand pressing the mattress beside your head and the other gripping the knots on the rope, tightly, like he was calming him down. He started to pick up his pace, wet skin slapping against yours. The room was filled with lewd sounds, and heat.

The moment his tip started to reach that sweet spot inside you, which had you moaning his name like prayer, you walls started to clamp his cock.

‘’God, look at you. How good are you taking it.’’ He said with a hoarse voice. ‘’So pretty… unable to move at all, huh?’’ Jungwon slammed hard, making you arch your back.

Soft whines left his lips while his dick was hitting all those spots of you, and your walls clamping him hard was driving him crazy. He felt every texture inside you.

‘’J–Jungwon…’’ You gasped, moving your hands.

He took them, pressing it against you. He was lost in pleasure.

‘’Feeling close, aren’t you?’’ You nodded eagerly. Even though you tried to suppress some moans it was nearly impossible. He was making you feel so good, so full.

‘’Let go, sweetheart. I got you.’’ He encouraged you.

And that was all it took. Your limbs tensed, feeling your orgasm building up fast and snapping inside you. Your eyes rolled back your head as the pleasure was feeling unbearable. Jungwon continued fucking his dick into you, so close to his release and helping you though yours.

‘’Baby…’’ He panted. ‘’Can– Can I finish inside?’’

You nodded, a bit dizzy and sensitive due the overstimulation. Jungwon gripped hard the ropes, busting inside you. High–pitched moans left his throat as his cock emptied itself inside, coating your walls with his sticky cum.

Both of you panted, trying to catch your breaths again. 

He took his time untying your arms free, kissing every red mark the rope caused. And then he gave you the weakest, gentle smile ever. You heart melted. He pushed out slowly, gasping when you felt empty and some of his release dripped into the bedsheets.

‘’You did so good, hun. Let’s get ourselves clean, okay?’’

You nodded, smiling fondly.

[raddest-laddest]

how it feels to see mono-mom mentioned under my art

[arolesbianism]

Trembles like a small dog. Places down my loopified euphrasie design before skittering away

[mybrainis2full]

“James…” Reg mutters with a little frown, standing in front of him, James’ arms around his waist.

“No don’t- don’t say it.” James says, muttering the last part quietly. “I’m not ready to hear it.”

“Baby.” Regulus takes a small breath.

“Don’t reg. Please.” James squeezes his eyes shut, tears already around his eyes, taking in breaths well aware of the toll it’ll take on him to hear the words, to have to confront it.

“I’m dead James.”

“No- no you’re alive I can feel you and your hearts beating and you’re alive regulus. You’re alive.”

“I drowned.”

James shakes his head hands coming up to cup regulus’ cheeks. “No. No youre alive.” Tears stream down his cheeks voice completely broken. He’s already been hit, he’ll just stay in denial. Try and pretend they’re light, carefree and the darkness of regulus’ death won’t drag them down.

“Please I can’t lose you.”

Regulus frowns, thumb rubbing away James’ tears, or trying to. They have no effect on the tears streaming down his lovers face.

“You already have.”

“No.” James’ face doesn’t look so broken normally. Maybe it’s never looked so broken before at all.

“Jamie …”

James let’s out a sob and pretends it’s a laugh “don’t call me that, you know what it does it me.” His chest heaves and he sits down, reg sitting next to him now.

“You’re here- you’re right in front of me I can feel your skin and- I- you’re alive please reg you’re-“ James cuts off with another sob too aggressive for him to keep talking. He folds over slightly, reg wrapping an arm around him. James’ head on regulus’ chest.

James sits up hands cupping the others cheeks and regulus gives him a small sad look. “You’re alive.”

“I’m dead. One year ago, 17.”

“God- you were- you’re just a child.” James sobs. “You were just a child.” He repeats, body trembling, mostly his hands.

Regulus has been nothing but a… ghost for over a year. James feels like he’s been hit by a bus, had freezing water poured over him. Something of the sort.

“James I’m not real.”

“I know. Don’t say it god I know.”

James shakes his head. “You’re real to me. I don’t care if you’re not- if you’re not technically real. You are. For me, to me.”

Regulus lets out a long breath rubbing his thumb over James’ upper arm.

“The whole world can think I’m mad for all I care reg- please let me just. Let me believe it.”

“I died, drowning with a hundred faceless corpses with hands clawing into my skin, and dragging me down.”

A sob wracks through James’ body. His eyes squeeze shut as he presses his face into reg’s chest. “Don’t. Please- just don’t tell me more.”

Regulus opens his mouth and closes it.

“You’re going to have to.. James you’ll have to.. accept it.”

James shakes his head. “No.”

“Please don’t cry, I hated it when you cried.” Regulus says frowning, chest hollow knowing he can’t even do so much as wipe James’ tears.

James’ throat feels full, breath catching he sniffs trying to still hold back tears but it’s a useless attempt.

“You have to move on and you have- James listen to me. You have to move on from me and live your life. You’re eighteen you have the entire rest of your life. Don’t spend it mourning me.”

James chest aches.

“I- I can’t. I’ll- I love you so fucking much reg how can I- I don’t think. I.. never could.”

“You can and you will James.”

“I won’t exist without you. I can’t. How am I- you’re everything reg. You’re everything.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Regulus says face twisted in pain.

“You’re asking me to.. move on. Live my life without you? What about- I want to live it with you.”

“I- James. You can.. move on. You will.”

“You’re a part of me regulus. Like my lungs or heart I- I can’t live without you please. Please I’ll die without you.”

“You’ve already lost me and your heart still beats, my love.”