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jarofstyles · 5 months

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Take Me Higher

Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣

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WC- 2.5k

Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc

Picture is not mine, credits to owner

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The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.

“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.

“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.

Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.

A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.

“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.

“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.

“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.

“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”

“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”

Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”

Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.

Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.

Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.

Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.

“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.

His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.

She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.

“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.

Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.

“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”

Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.

“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.

“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.

“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.

“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.

“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”

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me-loving-woso · 3 months

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The day after tomorrow

As promised here is Part 2 of Today. Tomorrow. You can find Part 1 here: Today. Tomorrow

As soon as you reached her building, you sent her a text.

**Y/n**: Are you home?

**Aitana**: Yes, I am. Why?

**Y/n:** Open the door.

You entered the building and quickly reached her door, knocking. After a few moments, she opened it, looking surprised, both at your presence and your new bald look.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to apologize," you said shyly, waiting for her to let you in. She widened the door to let you in, then closed it again. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you today. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, really," she said without much thought.

"You can be mad at me; I deserve it," you told her.

"You're going through something really tough. I get it if you want to lash out or not be vulnerable around me, even if sometimes, I'd like it if you'd let me be there for you more," she softened her gaze, showing her sincerity.

"Maybe that's the problem," you came closer to her. "Aren't you going to get tired of waiting for me?"

She was taken aback by the question, surprised at your acknowledgment of what was happening between you. The last time that happened, you were drunk.

"Well, I don't see it that way. We are already kinda acting like a couple. We cuddle, we sometimes sleep together, we are there for each other, we communicate, and we both care for each other in a way that friends wouldn't," she pointed out. Those past weeks, she had been there for you like a girlfriend would.

"Well, you can say that, but is it enough? Do you really think we could go on like this for more than another month?"

"What are you trying to say, Y/n? Do you want this to end?"

"No, no. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I've given you a proper chance. I pushed you away multiple times because I was scared. And I really don't want to anymore."

A smile crept onto her lips as she tried to suppress it. "So you're saying—"

"Yes, Tani. 70% of relationships fail in the first year, so let's be that 30%."

"Are you sure? Like 100%? Because if you're doing it for me, you really don't have to. I'm happy being what we are currently," she rambled.

"I'm doing it for myself. So now, just shut up and kiss me.”

She gently placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you close to her lips. The kiss was so sweet that you both couldn't properly kiss each other because you couldn't stop smiling.

"Be serious! I can't kiss you properly," you told her, giggling.

"I'm trying!" She took a breath to keep her smile from creeping in and kissed you again, this time properly.

She took her time, making sure you both fully enjoyed kissing each other for the first time. You slowly pushed her until she was seated on the couch, while you surged forward, sitting on her lap. There, she held you tight by your waist, while you had your hands on the sides of her jaw.

When you finally pulled away to breathe, you began to pepper her cheeks, jaw, and forehead with small, quick kisses, making her giggle. You wished to hear that giggle for the rest of your life if you could.

She took a closer look at you. "You have to change your beanie!" she said, taking you off guard.

"Why? You don't like it? I'm not going for a wig if that's what you're asking."

"You're bringing an Adidas product into my home! Nike is better! Wait. I'll give you one of mine." She patted your leg for you to move, then got up and left for her room.

After a couple of seconds, she quickly came back to you, sat down on the couch, and urged you to get in the same position as before.

"Can I take the beanie off?" she asked you. It was going to be a big step for you, showing this kind of vulnerability to her. You knew she knew about your illness, but it still scared you that she would look at you differently.

You lightly nodded, and she slowly took the beanie off you, leaving your bare head on display. She gently caressed the back of your head. "How is this so smooth?" she stated jokingly. You smacked her head in response.

"You're an idiot. That's the same thing Ciro said to me," you chuckled.

"Joking aside, this right here is proof that you're one hell of a fighter, Y/n. Never forget that. The hair will eventually grow back, but your spirit and your will through this tough illness will make you even stronger." She picked up her Nike beanie and gently placed it on your head. "There you go. Definitely better." She gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and gently embraced you.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," you said gratefully.

"I'm the lucky one, believe me."

That night, you both remained awake until 2 AM. You told her everything about you—your first girlfriend, uni life and your relationship with Ciro and your mom. You wanted her to know everything about you and why you were the way you were.

In return, she told you everything about her life, why she loved football so much, and her deepest insecurities and fears. You both listened intently, deepening the bond that you had with each other. That conversation made you fall for her even more than before.

The next morning, Aitana headed to training with a newfound happiness. The night before had left her feeling incredibly content—words couldn't quite capture the depth of her emotions. Seeing you give her a proper chance filled her with immense gratitude.

Patience wasn't her strongest suit, but for you, she would have waited for years. In her mind, the connection that she felt with you wasn’t something that you could find with the first random person. It felt unique, but maybe all the new couples felt like this when they finally get togather.

As she entered the physio room for her session with Ciro before practice, she immediately noticed his new haircut.

"Whoa, new haircut? Looks sleek and aerodynamic!" she teased lightly.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her teasing.

"Just because you did it, and why you did it, it's perfect. I would've done it too if Y/n let me," she remarked.

"She would never. She'd be so mad!" Ciro chuckled.

"I know, right!"

His expression softened as he asked, "Y/n didn't come home last night. You guys talked?" Aitana felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, silently confirming his question. She sat down on the physio bed, and Ciro began working on her ankle.

"Should I give you the brother-in-law talk?" he asked, turning to her seriously.

"Whoa! A little too early for that. Give us at least a week!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.

"Joking aside, I'm glad you didn't give up on her. It might not seem like it, but you've been helping her so much," Ciro remarked.

"You keep saying that, but in reality, I'm the one who needs her, not the opposite," Aitana admitted shyly.

"You're such a suck up!" Ciro joked, prompting Aitana to playfully push him off her ankle.

"That's not true! Without her, we both would be lost! Who would keep us in line?" Aitana retorted as Ciro finished taping her ankle. "You're good to go now."

During training, Aitana couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which caught the attention of her teammates, who were accustomed to her serious demeanor.

"Why are you so smiley?" Mapi asked, coming closer to her.

"No particular reason," Aitana lied.

"Does it have something to do with the art restorer?" Mapi pressed on.

"Maybe…" Aitana couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips.

"She'd better treat you right," Mapi said protectively.

"She is."

"So when are you going to let us meet her properly?" Patri jumped into the conversation.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight," Aitana replied, thinking of the plans you two had after your chemo treatment.

"You never hang out with us anymore!"

"I do! It's just, I've been busy with—"

"Y/n, we know. You should take her out with us," Patri suggested.

"It's not that simple. I'll talk to her about it," Aitana said vaguely, refocusing on training.

After training, Aitana quickly showered, put on some sweats, and headed to the hospital to see you. As she entered your room, she found you surrounded by some friends, mostly middle-aged women with breast cancer, gossiping about the hot doctors in the oncology department and trying to set you up with their sons.

"Who's the lucky man?" Jimena, one of the women, asked curiously.

"Jimena, I'd rather not talk about my love life with chemicals running through my veins," you replied, trying to change the subject.

"I get it. Young love!" Jimena teased before Aitana came to your rescue with snacks. As she sat next to you, Jimena and the other women left you two alone to talk.

"Thank god you saved me, Tani. All these women were trying to fix me up with their sons," you whispered, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Were there any hot, rich contenders?" she asked playfully.

"Yeah! They were all rich entrepreneurs with abs of steel. One of them I think was an Espanyol player? He looked really hot," you teased her. Aitana was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly recovered.

"What? You thought I'd profess my undying love for you and tell you that you're my one and only," you joked, poking her side teasingly.

"I play for Barça and have abs of steel," she replied childishly, trying to one-up the fake contenders you'd invented.

"You're such a child, Tani! None of these fake contenders would stand a chance with you!" you smiled, finding her playful pout endearing.

"Say that I'm your one and only," she playfully prompts.

"You are my one and only," you humor her, lightly moving your body to give a kiss on her cheek. "Today." Another kiss. "Tomorrow." Another one. "The day after tomorrow." Yet another. "And all the days after that." One final kiss seals your declaration, and you see her satisfied look with a slight blush on her cheeks. "You just wanted a cheesy confession," you shake your head, smiling. "You're one little scrounger," you pinch her nose.

"You love it," she retorts.

"I do, but I'll be waiting for a cheesy love confession too."

As soon as you were done with the treatment, you decided to take a small walk, as the doctor advised. You headed to a nearby beach, deserted in January, leaving just the two of you.

"So, the team wants to meet you, like properly," she says, slightly nervous.

"Don't I meet them at your birthday party? In like a couple of weeks," you remind her.

"Well, yeah, I didn't actually think about that," she admits shyly.

"Why are you so nervous for me to meet your friends?" you ask, then realizing. "Is it because I have can—"

"Oh, god no! Never think that, okay?" She stops on her feet, turns to you, and gets shy again. "It's the first time I'm bringing a girl to meet them. I've always focused only on football until a couple of months ago—well, I ran into you. So now they're just really curious and they want to meet you."

"I'd love to meet your friends, Tani. You met Eva, so now it's my turn to meet your teammates."

"They can be a lot," she warns you.

"I think I can deal with it. Do they know I have cancer?" you ask.

"It's not my business to say."

"You should tell them. They'll probably call you crazy since you decided to get with a cancer patient. And they would be right," you giggle.

"You call it crazy. I call it just a shift of events. In the beginning, we'll live out the hard times, then we'll have the best times of our life. I'll take you to Japan, like you always wanted to, and you'll take me to Italy, and show me all of the art you restored there," she says hopefully. "And here's the cheesy love confession: I'm not very good at math, but I'm pretty good at figuring out that we belong together." Her unexpected pickup line makes you burst out in giggles. She then turns serious. "I really believe that we work out really well together, Y/n. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that, I'll still believe that. So will you be my girlfriend, officially?"

"Damn, you actually are good at cheesy love confessions," you put your arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hard kiss. She replies with the same kind of intensity and emotion.

"So it's a yes?"

"Yes," you say excitedly, going back to kiss her.

Aitana's birthday didn't start as you hoped. It was her first day off in a long time, and you wanted her to have a wonderful day. However, your plans were interrupted around 5 AM when you felt your mouth water, a sign of what was to come.

You rushed to the toilet and emptied your stomach, a common side effect of chemo but a first-time experience for you. After quickly brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, hoping it wouldn't recur. Aitana rolled over to your side and cuddled into you.

"Good morning," she whispered with a raspy voice.

"Good morning, birthday girl. Why are you up so early?" You kissed her scalp. "Go back to sleep." She relaxed against you, or rather, on top of you.

You didn't mind; you loved her cuddliness. Your hand found its way inside her shirt, soothingly rubbing her back until she drifted back to sleep.

She properly woke at 8 AM, and with some coaxing from you, you both headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

"What's the plan for today?" she asked.

"It's your birthday; whatever you want to do," you replied.

"I just want to spend it with you," she smiled goofily.

"You're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.

"Since it's my birthday, you'll have to indulge me in everything," she said excitedly. "Even the most absurd things."

"What do you want?" You handed her a cup of coffee, relishing the domestic moment.

"I want a puppy," she said eagerly.

"Tani, mi amor, mi vida, mi alma, we are not getting a puppy."

"A kitten?" she suggested.

"Even worse."

"Okay, worth a shot," she said sadly, making you giggle.

"I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want?" you suggested.

"I think I can be satisfied with that," she said, pulling you onto her lap. "Starting with now." You shook your head amused, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and leaning in. "So I was thinking, let's have a lazy morning, then you'll take me out to lunch at that place we love so much, then in the afternoon, we'll go to the pet store and get a puppy."

"Aitana," you warned her.

"In the afternoon… we’ll figure it out then," she said.

"I have to go to the office for a couple of minutes this afternoon," you lied. You needed to get her present—a small bracelet— at home. You also had to call your doctor about what happened that morning and whether you should be worried.

Honestly, you weren't scared to meet her teammates; what scared you most were her childhood best friends. They knew her since elementary school and were extremely protective, those were the ones you really had to impress.

After lunch, you quickly excused yourself and got to your house to get Aitana’s bracelet, and then as a way to apologize you bought her some flowers before you got back to her.

As soon as you got inside her apartment, you heard so many voices, that you never heard of. Her friends were here. Fuck. You were not ready to meet them, you subconsciously fix your beanie, and walk through the door. You are quickly met with Aitana, who meets you at the door, wanting to greet you. As soon as she saw the flowers, her smile widened.

“Hi, Tani. I wanted to apologize for not being here in the afternoon, so I bought you these.” You explained. Handing her the flowers, while she admired them.

“I love them, thank you so much.” She stands on her tippy toes to give you a kiss, which you gladly prolonged.

After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “My friends are here, they wanted to come earlier to say hi before the party. I’m sorry I should have told you.”

You swallowed hard, and tried to keep on a smile, you weren’t ready to meet them.

“Aitana? Is Y/n here?” A voice interrupted you from replying to your girlfriend.

“We are coming!” She tells him, while she takes your hand. “They are going to love you, just as much as I do.” She reassures you casually saying the last part without even realizing it. But you did.

Before she could drag you to her living room, you drag her closer to you, placing your hands on each side of her face, lightly caressing her cheeks, and give her one final lazy kiss. “Now we are ready to go.” She gives you one last reassuring smile and showed you to her friends.

“Pepe, Juan and Maria, I want you to meet Y/n.”

“So this is the girl who has been making our Aitana talk non-stop about! For a moment I thought that you were fake!” A guy offers his hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Pepe. Nice to meet you.”

“Y/n.” You shake his hand smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Pepe. I assure you, I’m very much real.”

“Good to know! Aitana’s been going on and on about you. I was starting to think she’d invented the perfect partner in her head.” The other guy Juan interjects.

“Well, I am far from perfect, your friend is the crazy one for keeping up with me!” You chuckle, smiling gratefully to Aitana

“I think you are the crazy one to keep up with her! She can be a hassle sometimes.” Pepe, teases you girlfriends, earning a death glare from her.

“Tell me about it! She’s competitive down to her bones, she never lets me win at anything!” You follow Pepe, making Aitana turn to you. “Don’t look at me like that! You got mad because I was better than you at doing my own job.” You reason.

After a couple of minutes, the teasing subsided, making Aitana little more relaxed, she hated when people teased her, something that you always did, because you found her pout to be extremely cute.

You knew that probably Aitana told them not to say anything to you about you having cancer, and even though you loved that she wanted to protect you, it wasn’t something to hide or to not talk about.

As soon as Aitana left to go to the bathroom, you turn to her friends, “I know that Aitana told you not to talk to me about my cancer. But if you have any questions you can ask.” You could see that they were surprised.

Pepe exchanged a glare with his friends, “Nah, don’t worry. We are good. I know it must be hard for the both of you. But yeah, whatever you need, we are here. My mom had cancer, so I know how it feels like.”

“Plus, I’ve always known that Aitana had somewhat of a Nightingale Syndrome!” Juan joked, making you chuckle surprised.

“Its the only possible reasoning for her to get in a relationship with me.”

“Or maybe it’s because you make me really happy and feel supported?” Aitana walk to from the bathroom and finds her place next to you wrapping an arm around you waist, waiting for you to peck her lips, which you happily oblige.

“I still think it’s the Nightingale syndrome.” You chuckle. “Let’s hope you won’t forget about me when I’ll be cancer free.”

“You should tie her down, so she’s stuck with you.” Pepe jokes.

“I can’t get you pregnant, I’ll just have to find another way.” You think.

“I hate this coalition against me. A I don’t have Nightingale syndrome. B, today is supposed to be my birthday, NOT tease Aitana day.”

“We are so sorry.” You give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll never tease you again.” You lie. “Now if you let me, I’ll steal away Tani for a moment.” You take her hand and drag her to her bedroom, where you had her birthday gift.

“So I know, you told not to buy you anything, but I wanted to give you a little present. And no it’s not a puppy.”

You give her a little box. “So I know that you can’t have bracelets on you, because of football, so I found a knot that you can easily take off and put on.” She opens the box, it was a red string bracelet, which was thought to bring protection and luck. “I know you don’t like ostentatious stuff, so I went with something simple.”

“I love it. Thank you so much.” She hugged you tightly, filling your necks with small pecks. “I can wear bracelets, I’ll just have to cover it when I have a match. Can you put it on for me?”

You gently put it on for her, while she happily admires it.

“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to gift you.” You tell her. “You have some pretty difficult taste in stuff.” You chuckle.

“I love it, really. I’ll wear it on, so that I can have a reminder of you, whenever I’m away.” She beams.

“Always so cheesy.” You kiss her lips. “I like you really really much, you know that?” You tell her.

—

Her birthday party was set to be at her house because going out was too risky—you couldn’t afford to get sick. Despite your insistence that she do whatever she wanted, she said if it were up to her, she’d spend her birthday just with you. Everyone would be coming over at 8 PM, so you had a couple of hours to get ready.

Your whole body was aching: your joints, your head, your throat—everything. But you promised yourself that it was Aitana’s day, so you’d endure the pain for her happiness. You took some painkillers, but since you weren’t used to them, they made you drowsy.

You decided to wear something simple: jeans and one of Aitana’s shirts. You loved wearing her shirts because they smelled like her, and you loved her reaction when she saw you in them. Today was no exception.

“Comfy?” she asked, emerging from the bathroom into her room where you were changing. Even though you’d been together for over two months, you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship. Since you started chemo, your sex drive had plummeted, and you’d stopped having periods.

Aitana never brought it up, knowing it should come from you. You appreciated that she never pressured you or made you uncomfortable, but sometimes your mind would twist things, making you think she didn’t touch you because she didn’t want to. This insecurity often resurfaced at the worst times, especially when meeting people from Aitana’s life and presenting yourself as a fragile cancer patient.

“Yes, very much, thank you,” you chuckle. She rounds the bed to get closer, wrapping you in a big hug from behind.

“It’s annoying that you look better in my clothes than I do. We should swap closets,” she says, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek that makes you blush. “You look beautiful.” She turns you around and gives you a searing kiss, making your knees nearly give out. You open your eyes to see how she’s dressed.

“Even though I’m sure you could make a trash bag look hot, you look stunning tonight,” you reply, smiling proudly. She wasn’t wearing something that elaborate, a simple dress, but it was more than enough for her to look even more beautiful than she already was. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.

“I didn’t overdo it, right?” she asks, sounding insecure.

“Tani, it’s your birthday. Everyone else should adjust to how you dress,” you reassure her. “Ready to go to the living room?” You offer her your hand.

She takes it but swiftly throws you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. She giggles and plops on top of you. Thank God for those painkillers. “No, I want to stay here with you! You’re comfy, and you promised unlimited kisses and cuddles,” she whines.

You chuckle, gently scratching her scalp. She loved head scratches.

After a while, with Aitana rambling about the upcoming weeks, she suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. You tilt your head, curious and a bit worried.

“What?”

“Can I feel it?” she asks.

“Feel what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“The lump on your neck,” she whispers. You pat her side to make her sit up.

“I don’t think it’s the right time. I don’t want to change your mood,” you argue weakly.

“You never let me kiss or touch that side of your neck,” she says, looking down at her hands.

“Because it feels worse than it looks, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

“I want to be able to touch all of you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Okay, that sounded bad. I apologize,” she chuckles. “But you know what I mean.”

You nod, gently taking her right arm. “Are you sure?” She nods. You guide her hand to your neck. Your eyes twitch as she touches the lump.

“It feels... different than I expected,” she murmurs, her fingertips lingering on the lump, exploring it with careful curiosity. You watch her, your heart heavy, knowing she’s grappling with the reality of it.

“Yeah, it’s not just in our heads,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. Her eyes meet yours, showing a mix of fear and determination.

“It’s real,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I mean, I knew it was, but feeling it... it makes it so real.”

You nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah. It’s real.”

“But we’ll fight this, okay?” she says, a determined spark in her eyes giving you hope. “I’ll be by your side.”

You nod, feeling the lump in your throat tighten. “Mark my words, if we get through this, I’ll be the most supportive, fun, and grateful girlfriend you deserve. You make me so happy. I just want you to have some happiness, Tani,” you say, feeling deflated.

“I don’t need anything else,” she replies, her voice soft but firm. “Your happiness is my happiness. We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side. Together.”

You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her unwavering resolve. “Together,” you echo.

She smiles, a mix of determination and love. “Every step of the way. And when this is over, we’ll take those trips to Japan and Italy we planned, and then we’ll have our happy days, cari. But for now, we take it one day at a time.”

You nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “One day at a time.” You pause. “You’d tell me if it’s too much, right?”

“It’s not too much, cari.” Sensing your distress, she reassures you. “But yes, I’ll tell you if something changes.”

You give her a final hug, trying to pour all your gratitude into it. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs before one of your friends starts thinking we’re hooking up,” you say, lightening the mood as you pull away.

You head downstairs, and as you pass her friends on your way to the living room, you catch their suggestive smirks, making you blush lightly while Aitana rolls her eyes at them. You help her get everything ready and wait for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You figured her teammates knew about your cancer because when they arrived, they weren't shocked to see you without hair and visibly more tired. Aitana vividly remembered how that conversation went down.

It was three days before her birthday, and Aitana was in the changing room, telling her team about the small get-together she was planning at her home.

“If you want to come, I’m having a small party at my house for my birthday,” she said, inviting everyone. She knew most of the younger girls, except for Pina, Jana, and Bruna, probably wouldn’t show up.

“At home? Don’t you usually do it at a restaurant? Did you have trouble booking a place?” someone asked as most of the uninterested teammates left, leaving Aitana with her captains, the Norwegians, Mapi, Patri, the youngsters, and Rölfo.

“I’d rather do it at home. It’s quieter and we don’t have to overpay for drinks,” she said, making up an excuse. In reality, she knew you couldn’t risk going out to crowded places because of your condition. She preferred to spend her birthday with you.

“I think this has something to do with Y/n. Is she making you stay at home? Is she really jealous or something?” Patri asked, sounding more accusatory than curious.

“Y/n? She’s not that jealous. Why do I get the feeling you don’t like her?” Aitana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern, shifting uncomfortably on her bench.

“We know she must be great, but since you got together, you never hang out with us anymore. You don’t stay after training or join us for breakfast. We’re just worried about you getting too wrapped up in the relationship,” Alexia said, her voice full of concern and care.

“She’s not making me stay home. I basically force her to hang out with me. If she knew I was skipping hangouts, she’d force me to go out with you guys,” Aitana defended your intentions, trying to make them understand you weren’t restricting her.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” Patri pressed. “Did we do something wrong?”

Aitana sighed, feeling the weight of her friends' concerns. She knew they meant well but didn’t understand the full picture. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not about you. It’s just... Y/n has been going through a lot.” Her friends’ confused expressions spurred her on. “Y/n has cancer. And before you say anything, I knew before we got together.”

The room fell silent. Mapi’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. “Aitana, we had no idea. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“At first, I thought it was Y/n’s right to tell who she wanted about her cancer, but then she said it was best if you knew, since you’d probably meet her properly someday.”

Patri nodded, her skepticism replaced with concern. “We’re sorry if we made you feel judged. We just miss you and want to be there for you. How can we help?”

Aitana chuckled. “Well, unless you can find a magical cure for cancer, there’s not much you can do. But if it’s not too much to ask, just being there for us would mean the world.”

As soon as they saw you hand in hand with Aitana, two girls approached you. One was insanely tall, and the other had tattoos all over her arms.

“Hi, you must be Y/N?” the tall one said.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Ingrid and Mapi, right?” you asked, shaking their hands.

You noticed Mapi’s tattoos and recognized some of the designs. “I love your tattoos. Do you go to Javi?”

“Yeah! How did you know?” she looked surprised.

“We went to school together. He’s one of my best friends. I helped him out with some designs.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! He mentioned a friend helped with some designs, but I never imagined it was you,” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Javi is amazing. He did this sleeve for me,” she said, showing off the intricate designs on her arm. “It’s one of my favorites.”

You recognized some of your own designs. “I did the skull with the lightbulb and the squirrel!”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi said excitedly. “The skull with the lightbulb is one of my favorites. And the squirrel is such a fun piece!”

You smiled, feeling proud. “I’m really glad you like them. It’s always nice to see my work out in the world.”

Aitana turned to you with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you could draw!”

You shrugged modestly, feeling bashful under Aitana’s gaze. “It’s just a hobby. Javi and I used to spend hours sketching together before getting busy with work.”

Ingrid looked impressed. “A hobby? You’ve got real talent. You should definitely do more with it. I know for sure that Mapi would love a few more tattoos.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” Mapi asked curiously.

You blushed lightly. “I have three.” Aitana's head snapped towards you, her eyes wide with surprise.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen them.”

“Don’t act too surprised, Tani. They’re well hidden.” You turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were waiting for you to continue. “I have one that’s a one-inch line from my favorite movie, *V for Vendetta*: The second one is a quote, and the third... well, it’s a bit more hidden. Let’s just say that.” You winked at Aitana.

You got your first two tattoos when you were 18. The first was significant to you, a permanent reminder of something important. The second was more cheeky, known only to those who’ve seen you naked and your friend Eva. It was a small outline of a heart on one of your ass cheeks. Your third tattoo was one of your favorite quotes from the painter Artemisia Gentileschi: “You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.”

Aitana looked like she wanted to say more, but as soon as you saw Ciro come inside, you quickly excused yourself to greet him.

“I’m going to say hi to Ciro.” You turned to Aitana, giving her a lingering kiss, not too long to draw attention. Then you turned to her teammates. “It was lovely to meet you guys. I hope we can talk more about some tattoo ideas.” You walked away, hugging your brother.

Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, who was still looking at you, smiling to herself.

Ingrid chuckled at Aitana’s state, making her turn her attention to her teammates. “Sorry.” She bowed her head, her cheeks turning rosy. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Aitana’s blush deepened, and she couldn’t help but smile even wider. “Yeah, I really do,” she admitted warmly. “She’s amazing. I’m still finding out new things about her every day, and I love it. Plus, she’s so strong and fearless.” She glanced at you, laughing with your brother. “I can’t believe she’s my girl. She’s just incredible.”

“And so hot!” Mapi said without thinking, earning a death glare from her own girlfriend.

“She is! It’s so frustrating sometimes,” Aitana agreed, laughing.

Meanwhile, you were grabbing drinks with Ciro when the nausea hit again. Not wanting to make a scene, you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to throw up. Ciro quickly noticed something was wrong and followed you.

He knocked on the door. "It's Ciro, can you let me in?"

You sighed and unlocked the door. Another wave of nausea hit, and you doubled over the toilet, trying to keep quiet. Ciro crouched next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once the wave passed, you leaned back against the wall, exhausted.

"Y/N, this is serious," Ciro said quietly, concern on his face. "You need to tell Aitana."

You shook your head weakly. "Not tonight, Ciro. It's her birthday party. I don't want to ruin it."

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, continuing to rub your back.

"Since this morning. I took a painkiller because all my joints are killing me. Why did it have to be today?" You looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.

Ciro sighed deeply. "Y/N, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, even if it means taking a step back tonight."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, Ciro. But I just want Aitana to have a perfect night. She's been looking forward to this for so long."

Ciro gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it. But she loves you and would want you to be okay more than anything else. Let's get you through tonight, and then you need to rest. Promise me."

"Okay," you agreed reluctantly. "I promise."

Ciro helped you to your feet, and you steadied yourself before brushing your teeth. You tried to put on a brave face, but the exhaustion and nausea were hard to hide.

As you reentered the party, Aitana immediately noticed something was off. She walked over, concern on her face. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look well."

You gave her a reassuring smile, even though you felt far from it. "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Don't worry about me, let's enjoy your party."

You went to the kitchen for some water and then stepped outside for fresh air. Ciro followed, keeping an eye on you.

Outside, you lit a cigarette, something you hadn't done in years, and slowly inhaled, feeling a calming effect. You knew it was wrong, but you needed some relief.

“You must be the art restorer?” one of Aitana’s teammates asked.

You turned to her. “That’s me.”

“I’m Alexia.”

"Tani’s team captain. I’ve heard about you… Please don’t tell her I smoke. It’s my first in years."

“Do you have another one?” she asked, surprising you with the request.

You hesitated before handing her the pack. Alexia took one and lit it, taking a slow drag before exhaling. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air providing some relief.

"Thanks," Alexia said softly. "I won't tell Aitana. We all have our vices."

You nodded, taking another drag. "Yeah, we do."

Alexia studied you for a moment. "So, how long have you been an art restorer?"

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. "About six years now. It's my passion, bringing old pieces back to life."

She nodded appreciatively. "That's really cool. Aitana talks about you all the time. It's obvious how much she cares about you."

Your heart ached at her words. "I care about her too. More than anything."

Alexia smiled, taking another drag. "It's great to see. She's special, and she deserves someone who loves her as much as you do."

You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing on you. The night air, mixed with the cigarette smoke, made you slightly dizzy, but you steadied yourself. "Thanks, Alexia. That means a lot coming from you."

The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, just taking in the night and the muffled sounds of the party inside.

"So, what brought you out here, really?" Alexia asked, breaking the silence. "You don't seem like the type to sneak out for a smoke."

You hesitated, the truth bubbling up inside you. "I hate meeting new people. I have to charge my social battery." You chuckled.

“Tell me about it. I have to endure hours of media every week.”

You both finished your cigarettes. Alexia handed you a mint chewing gum, and the two of you headed back inside.

Everyone was mingling in small groups. You were about to speak when you felt a body collide with yours in a hug.

“Damn, Tani, you still have energy at 11 PM!” You chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.

She shrugged. “I was searching for you everywhere. I missed you!”

“I was with Alexia, getting some fresh air, Tani,” you reassured her. You could see in her eyes that she wanted some attention, so you quickly said your goodbyes to Alexia and focused on the birthday girl.

She took your hand and led you to the living room, where some friends were chatting. She sat down on the couch and pulled you onto her lap, circling her arms around your waist.

"You know, I think I missed you more," you teased, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Aitana laughed, her eyes twinkling. "That's impossible. But I'll let you think that."

The warmth of her embrace and the lively chatter around you made it easier to forget about everything else for a moment. You nestled into her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back.

The room was filled with laughter and light, and for a while, you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the festivities.

“So, tell me more about this art restoration,” Fridolina, one of Aitana’s friends, piped up. “I’ve always been fascinated by that kind of work.”

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. “It’s incredibly rewarding. There’s something magical about bringing old, forgotten pieces back to life.”

“That sounds amazing,” Ingrid chimed in, her eyes wide with interest. “Do you have a favorite piece you’ve worked on?”

You thought for a moment. “There was this old Renaissance painting that came into the studio a few years ago. It was in terrible shape, covered in grime and with a lot of damage. It was from Artemisia Gentileschi, a very particular painter. She was one of the few female artists of her time, and her works are incredibly powerful and brutal. Restoring her painting felt like reviving a piece of her story.”

Aitana’s friends listened intently, clearly captivated by your passion. Aitana squeezed your hand, her pride in you evident.

"Which painting was it?" Fridolina asked, leaning forward with interest.

"It was 'Judith Slaying Holofernes.' The details, the intensity in Judith’s expression, and the dramatic use of light and shadow—it’s breathtaking. Bringing that piece back to its original glory was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career."

"Wow," Ingrid said, visibly impressed. "It must be amazing to see the transformation up close."

"It is," you agreed. "There’s something almost intimate about it, like connecting with the artist across centuries."

The conversation flowed easily, with Aitana’s friends asking more questions about your work and sharing their own interests. The night wore on, filled with laughter and joy.

As the party began to wind down and the majority of the guests left, you found a quiet moment with Aitana on the balcony. The city lights illuminated the ambient below, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you.

“Thank you for tonight. I know you were feeling sick and kept going for me. Next time, please don’t do it.”

You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her hands in yours. “I wanted to be here for you, Tani. You mean the world to me. But I promise, I’ll take better care of myself. I won’t push it next time.”

She sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be okay.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t want to worry you.”

Aitana looked up at you, her eyes filled with love and concern. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet night and the love you shared. Despite the challenges ahead, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, knowing that you had Aitana by your side.

After a few moments, Aitana pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes. “Let’s go inside and get some rest. You need it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

As you walked back into the apartment, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Aitana and the love you shared. It gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.

You both went to the bedroom and got ready to sleep. You wore one of Aitana’s joggers and a shirt you brought for the sleepover. Aitana came out from the bathroom after getting into her sleepwear and sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.

After a couple of minutes, she turned to you, seeing you already sitting on the bed, setting your alarm clock. She rolled over to you with a waiting gaze, clearly wanting to ask you something.

“What?”

“You could have told me that you had three tattoos.” She pouted slightly.

“Well, you never asked.” You smirked playfully.

“Now I’m asking. Can I see them?”

You hesitated. Your first tattoo, the line, was right under your breast, the second one was on your side, and the third... you definitely wanted to wait for her to see it.

You were nervous about showing her your body, as she had never seen you without a shirt on. The changes from cancer and seeing Aitana’s teammates tonight had made you feel inadequate.

Aitana noticed your hesitation, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable,” she said gently, reaching out to take your hand.

You took a deep breath, deciding to take a step forward in vulnerability. “It’s not that I don’t want to show you… it’s just, you’ve never seen me without a shirt, so I guess I’m a little bit scared?” You tried to be honest with her.

Aitana’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “Why would you be scared? I think you are beautiful, both in and out.”

You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “My body… it’s changed a lot because of the cancer. I don’t look the same as I used to, and seeing your teammates tonight just made me feel… inadequate.”

Aitana’s grip on your hand tightened, and she pulled you into a hug. “Y/N, you’re beautiful to me. You’ve been through so much, and I admire your strength. I don’t care about how your body looks; I care about you, the person I fell in love with.”

Her words were like a balm to your anxious mind. You took another deep breath and decided to trust her completely. “Okay. I’ll show you.”

You raised your shirt, stopping just before your breast, showing her the first tattoo. She lightly traced the ink with adoration.

“The second one is on the side, it’s a quote.” You revealed it. “Troverete lo spirito di Cesare in questa anima di donna.” You repeated the quote. “Which means: You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.” She lightly caressed your side where the quote showed.

“They are all beautiful. Damn, I didn’t think you’d be someone who had tattoos.”

“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”

“What about your third?”

“Well, that one I got on a whim. Not many people have seen it.” You smirked suggestively.

“Well, now I’m curious.” She was intrigued.

“I won’t show it to you now if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Okay, okay, I respect that. I am a very patient woman; I’ll wait. Can you just tell me where it is?” She pleaded curiously.

“I’ll tell you this, the only people who have seen it are Eva, because I was with her when I got it, and the people who have seen me naked.”

Aitana's eyes widened with curiosity and a hint of playfulness. "Well, now you have me even more intrigued," she said, chuckling. "But I can wait. It’ll make it all the more special when I do see it."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. Her understanding and patience were just a few of the many reasons you loved her so much. "I promise you’ll see it when the time is right," you said softly.

Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently. "I look forward to it. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight. It means a lot.”

As you both settled into bed, you positioned yourself on top of her to give her one final kiss. “Good night, Tani. I hope you had fun tonight.” You rolled over to your side, getting into a comfy position to sleep, while your girlfriend was already half asleep.

She replied lazily and almost unconsciously. “I had fun, good night Cari. I love you.” You widened your eyes as a smile crept on your cheeks.

Three months into your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. Your cancer was receding, and you were nearly finished with your fifth cycle of chemo before discussing the next steps with your doctor.

Three days before Aitana was set to leave for Bilbao for the Copa de la Reina semi-final, you visited the doctor’s office. Ciro took a day off work to accompany you. Your oncologist, who was serious but supportive, greeted you.

“So, Y/N, I have good news and bad news.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Good news: your cancer is receding. The treatment is going great, and I think we should operate, perform a thyroidectomy as soon as possible. Thursday would be ideal.”

You sighed in relief, almost at the end of this ordeal.

“The bad news is the position of the cancer. We might be able to remove it completely, but there are risks. Your cancer is very close to your vocal cords. You might lose your voice.”

You had never considered that possibility. “What’s the probability it might go wrong?” you asked fearfully.

“30%. I know it’s a significant risk, but it’s the best solution. We can fully remove it. No more chemo, no more suffering.” Seeing your hesitation, he added, “I won’t ask you to decide right now. Take some hours to think about it. But the sooner we act, the better.”

Your doctor left the room to give you some privacy.

You turned to Ciro. “I don’t think there’s any real choice, is there?”

“No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

After informing your doctor that you agreed to the operation, you headed home, while Ciro had to return to work for training.

Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing it was probably Aitana, you opened it to find her holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that hid her face. She peeked out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Surprise!” she said, handing you the flowers.

You hugged her. “You really know how to make a girl swoon, Tani.”

“Only for you.” You took the flowers and kissed her in gratitude.

You led her inside and prepared a snack for both of you. She sat on the couch, waiting. As you sat down next to her, she leaned in for another kiss. “What was that for?” you asked.

“Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?”

“Anytime you like.”

“How was the doctor’s appointment?” she asked as you cuddled up.

You sat up. “The treatment is working, and they want to operate. My cancer is receding, and it might go away completely with the operation.” Your tone wasn’t as optimistic as your words.

She sensed there was more. “That’s great! But why do you look so worried? Is there a but?”

“Two. First, the surgery is on Thursday during the Copa de la Reina semi-final. And before you say anything, no, I won’t let you skip it. You’ve already missed two matches because of me, without even telling me.”

“And the other?” she asked, defeated.

“I might lose my voice.”

Aitana’s eyes widened with concern. “But if it’s your best shot at beating cancer, wouldn’t you take it?”

“I’ve already agreed, Aitana. But that’s not the point. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” she said seriously.

"You'll leave me if I lose my voice, okay?"

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"I don’t want you to be with someone you have to constantly take care of. You deserve so much better."

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head and taking your hands. "You can’t ask me that. I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, okay?"

You chuckled, feeling a lump in your throat. "I’m doing this for you. This is an out. Why can’t you take it?"

"Because I don’t want to!" she said, almost angrily. "Don’t push me away, please."

"I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing this for you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you everything. And right now, I can’t. For god’s sake, we’ve been together for five months, and I can’t even take my shirt off in front of you!" you reasoned, your frustration mounting.

She looked shocked, almost taken aback. "Is... Is this about sex?"

You hid your face in your palms. "No... I mean... I don’t know," you stuttered.

"No. No, Cari, sex has never been an issue for me. You’re going through cancer; it’s normal that you don’t want to have sex."

"I know, but what about your needs?"

"My needs? I’ve waited eighteen years of my life without sex. I can deal with waiting for a while," she reassured you. "Plus, the wait will make it even better!"

"You know, I’d get it if you wanted to find someone else to be physical with. I wouldn’t blame you."

"And kiss someone else? Touch someone else? Make someone else feel good? Never," she reassured you. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You make me so happy. Why would I jeopardize that for some fleeting pleasure?"

"You always say that I’m beautiful. But... Do you find me hot?" you almost whispered the last part.

Aitana's expression softened, and she cupped your face gently, her thumb tracing your cheek.

"Y/N, you are the most gorgeous person I know. You’re beautiful, inside and out. And yes, I find you incredibly hot."

You still looked unconvinced, so she quickly made you sit on her lap and unzipped her hoodie, remaining in her shirt. She took your hand and guided it inside her shirt next to her heart. It was beating fast.

"Do you feel it? This is what you do to me. Whenever you sit on my lap or nibble that part of my ear that you know is so sensitive, you make my heart race out of proportion. And so fucking wet that it hurts sometimes." You chuckled, feeling her heart pounding. "Don’t ever doubt my attraction or my loyalty towards you," she told you firmly, making you believe her. You nodded. "And don’t you dare think for even a minute that I’ll leave you if you lose your voice. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a solution together," she said resolutely.

On Wednesday, the day before the game, Aitana brought you to the hospital and helped you check in.

You sat on the hospital bed, waiting for your doctor. "I’ll be here as soon as the game finishes, okay? Tell Ciro to send me updates, or else I’ll kill him." She kissed your temple and was about to leave when you took her hand to stop her.

"I want to tell you something. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to. I know I’ve never said it; I’ve always waited."

"You’ll tell me when I get back."

"No, please, Tani, let me say it. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you right now." She nodded. "I love you, Aitana Bonmatí. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the days after that."

"I love you too, Cari." She rubbed her nose against yours and kissed you on the lips.

"Go and beat Athletic’s club ass, okay?”

Needless to say, until she saw you again, Aitana couldn’t keep her mind off you. Her teammates noticed she wasn't focused on the game, and Mapi pulled her aside during the warm-up.

"Hey, Aitana, are you okay?" Fridolina asked, concern evident in her voice.

Aitana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No, not really. Y/N is having surgery right now, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm worried."

Frido placed a comforting hand on Aitana's shoulder. "I get it, but you have to try and focus on the game for now. She'd want you to give it your all out there. Besides, we're all here for you. If you need anything, just let us know."

Aitana nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Frido. I'll try my best."

As the game progressed, Aitana pushed herself to concentrate, channeling her anxiety into her performance. Every time she made a play, she thought of you, imagining how proud you'd be. Despite the distraction, she played one of her best games, driven by the desire to make you proud.

When the final whistle blew, Barcelona had secured a resounding victory. Aitana immediately checked her phone, finding a message from Ciro: “Surgery is done. We don’t know anything right now.”

Fear washed over her, and her hands started to tremble as her mind filled with what-ifs. She looked down at the bracelet you had gifted her, seeking comfort. She couldn’t lose you. Most importantly, she needed to get back to you.

She got on the first plane and left for Barcelona.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #alexia putellas #woso one shot #ona batlle

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l4long-winded · 8 months

Text

o.s. fresh, unwilting daisies

summary: carmen gets possessive after your ex boyfriend stops by and leaves you a bouquet of daisies (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: wrote this yesterday and edited it today. i have received a few requests in my inbox if anyone is interested in leaving me some more, i'll get to those as soon as i can. let's relish in the collective carmy brain rot together <3 please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: cursing, cynicism, reader has an ex boyfriend, inner monologue, carmen's pov, filth, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, possessive!carmen, jealous!carmen, praise, multiple orgasms, use of "sweet girl," reader doesn't like daisies (they're pretty, let's pretend, sorry to all the daisy lovers), past relationship, donna mention, office setting, p in v sex, dom!carmen (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,750

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid motherfucker. Who does he think he is? Waltzing into Carmen’s restaurant, the cuffs of his dirt infested denim jeans dragging over Carmen’s pristine floor, said denim jeans hanging low on his hips like an asshole who can’t even present himself to you as an individual who actually gives a fuck. Grant didn’t hold the common courtesy to put on a belt, and Carmen doesn’t believe the man owns one, but if he’s going to saunter in and try and request time with you, Carmen’s girlfriend, then he should at least be decent and dress like he’s attempting to win you back and not as if he just got home after a hard day’s work of laying down brick. Grant doesn’t have a job so that explanation for his asshole outfit and his asshole beanie and his asshole demeanor is not worth excusing him, especially not as he smugly leaned over Carmen’s counter and let his jacket covered elbows smear his Grant-ness all over the surface. Carmen had no choice but to wipe it down with high-grade sanitizer, scrubbing away as if he could scrub away Grant completely out of your and Carmen’s life, since they’re entangled with one another now whether Grant likes it or not.

Carmen shifts his tongue within you utilizing a bit more pressure, undulating the pink muscle in and out until he forms the shape of a well to scoop your slick and curl it into his fervent, perpetual mouth. He gulps you down into the back of his throat, exhaling against your folds at the satisfying, addicting drink equivalent to a desert traveler’s first and desperate swallow of refreshing water. Carmen breathes your scent since it permeates throughout his office space and your wetness coats his cheeks and the tip of his nose, inhaling and exhaling air that causes your thighs to twitch in his hands at the sensation. He ought to be kinder to you, you’re sensitive from the two orgasms he’s endlessly worked out of your cunt, and it’s not your fault Grant continues to be an annoying fixture in your atmosphere having denied his pleas time and time again, but every time Carmen locks eyes with Grant’s lazy, complacent gaze, Carmen feels a surge of jealousy within him compelling him to mark his territory and reinforce the notion of you being his and his alone. Sure, you dated Grant first, but in Carmen’s eyes, you belong to him like you’ve never belonged to anyone.

“Mine,” he utters, slipping his tongue out to lick his puffy, swollen lips clean, exposing his line of thinking as he presses a kiss to your clit, growling and slightly smirking to find the little button still pulsing for him with need. His fingernails dig into the meat of your thighs as you attempt to clamp them around his head, and normally he would let you, but he holds them spread and open for him so he can continue to lap you into the whining mess you’re becoming atop his desk. The downside is how each of those adoring and pleasant sounds are muffled due to your palm actively pressing down against your lips, “good girl” muttered because that’s what he told you to do for him when you started and you’ve done an excellent job of quieting yourself while he practically drowns himself in your cunt. He doesn’t miss the whimper you reward him with at the praise, his right hand generously kneading the flesh of your thigh as a sign that he’s almost done, to just hang on a touch longer and allow him his fill.

“One more,” he promises, “just one more for me, sweet girl, one more,” Carmen litters your pussy and inner thighs with kiss after kiss, stamps of pure affection to calm you down and ready you for his next onslaught. He peers up at you, noticing how your body is trembling just as much as your thighs are, half your ass hanging off the edge of his desk, your upper shoulders slumping partially into the wall behind. Poor thing. Close to sobbing, your eyes glassy from the tears of pleasure that never fall from them, your shirt riding up your stomach since he only bothered to take your pants off in his rush to have you when you came in to check up on him. You deserve his fingers, and he plays around with the idea of sliding them inside you, drumming them against your skin as he thinks about stuffing you with them as his mouth closes over your clit. He’s done it in the past, he knows it would drive you to that climax he currently craves in an instant, but from scanning your disheveled features and writhing frame, his crystal blues eventually attach to the vase of daisies at the side of the two of you, taunting him as they have this entire time.

The notecard sticking out flashes Grant’s name. You don’t even like daisies, you’ve told Carmen, but Grant used to get them for you when he fucked up numerous times throughout your relationship. No matter how much you hated to accept them and therefore reinforced the habit, you would always vase them and frown as they started to immediately die the next morning. That’s who Grant is. He didn’t bother to at least buy you fresh and lively daisies, but the ones right on the verge of dying. Today, months and months into your and Carmen’s relationship, Grant stopped by with vased daisies under the intent of getting you back and they’re actually fucking beautiful, Carmen admits, but they’re pissing him the fuck off. Every glance to them sitting there has brought about this carnal desire to part your legs further for him. The flowers are taunting him, milky and lemony, an assorted arrangement plopped into a blaring, golden vase that Carmen’s mother would definitely keep if she had been gifted it herself, muttering something about hidden treasures, son while storing it away in her cabinet’s hoarding of dishes and “fine china” she gathered from the thrift store. They’re nice. Too nice. Carmen should get you some flowers, he decides to himself, flowers that you would actually like without some underlying motive, simply because he cares about you and because he wants to see your smile light up when he personally hand delivers them.

Fucking Grant. His fucking daisies are taking up too much fucking space on Carmen’s desk and he hates it, he hates that he had to move them from the front of the restaurant into his office so they wouldn’t obstruct the customers, he hates the contents of the notecard begging you to be Grant’s again as if you were ever his in the first place.

“Mine,” Carmen grunts again, lapping up your slit with the full flat of his tongue, dragging it to relish in your taste, in the moan you choke out against your hand, his nose catching between your folds. He glances up at the flowers, the line “want you to be mine again” ringing in his ears from when you read the note aloud to him. Well, fuck you, Grant, he thinks, it’s his tongue and mouth on your cunt and it’s his cock that’s going to be plunging in and out of you tonight on his couch, in his bed, in the shower as you brace yourself with your hands planted on his tile walls.

Fucking cry over it, motherfucker. Fuck your flowers. I’m the one fucking her.

And something… miraculous(?) happens. A single petal falls from the flowers as Carmen licks at you. He watches it swish and sway through the air, descending down until it lands right next to his hand, right on top of your thigh, his thigh.

He pushes his head in further, yanking you by your (his) thighs to meet his mouth as he simultaneously swipes away the petal like it burned you. You squeak out in surprise, your opposite hand flying down to grip the curls in his hair as you sputter above him. Carmen seals his mouth over your clit, done with the teasing, done with his thoughts, and all he wants is to send you over that blissful edge he’s pushed you towards already, stroking you with rolls of his tongue and strong suckles of his suctioned lips. You don’t even last a minute, swaddled pleas of something resembling his name being cried out into your hand, your head bumping into the wall behind as you cream around nothing. He glances down, petting your cunt with merciful, languid brushes of his tongue, in awe of the mess you’re soaking out onto his desk. He drops his jaw lower to catch all of it, close to licking your essence right off the surface if it weren’t for how you’re currently teetering on it. Carmen stands up, unbuckling his belt hurriedly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, your cunt’s release once on his lips and chin now transferred to the digits and knife tattooed over it.

“Wha-… Carmy?” You ask as you sit up, only for him to pull you by your hips back into position for him. You look so dazed, fucked out beyond belief, and as he manhandles you to spreading your thighs all over again, his elbow knocks the vase of daisies with enough force to send them crashing down to the floor. The glass breaks into scattered shards, causing you to jump, but Carmen doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s just lining himself up and pushing straight through your walls, well lubricated with his spit and your cum, having been loved on long enough for your shared coworkers to begin questioning your and his whereabouts. You actually yelp this time, grasping at his broad shoulders as you adjust and clench around him. He latches his lips to yours to mute your noises, thrusting away, pounding the cunt belonging to him and no one else, growling as he bites at your bottom lip.

As he steps his feet apart from one another to open your knees up for extra access, glass crunches under his shoe, water splashing under the sole of the other, and a few daisies are crushed as he fucks you with a quickening pace. He’s not worried about it. He’ll get you some tulips or maybe some sunflowers, something pretty for you to look at as he has you bent over the kitchen table tomorrow morning.

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #fresh unwilting daisies #the bear series #carmen berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear hulu #carmy the bear

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bengals-barnesbabe · 1 month

Text

Fuck Your Status

Pair: FB!Joe Burrow x Black!Fem Reader

Descr: Self Care Sunday is taking a bit long, so here's a prelude to it that gives you a "basis" on their relationship.

TW: MDNI 18+ | smut, protected sex, p-in-v, jealous and possessive traits, bratty behavior, drinking, self centered!Joe. Joe's POV, next one is more reader. Not entirely proofread.

Babe's Version | Main Masterlist | Self Care Sunday

WC: 1.1k

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

You’ve had my attention for months, like a strong obsession. I don’t know what happens to me when you’re around. Your pull isn’t supposed to be this strong. I just can’t stay away, and by the looks of it you can’t either.

Everyone in the room disappears when you walk in, we could be in a packed stadium and it’d still only be you and me, just like right now.

We’ve been here for less than an hour and the guys are already 2 bottles deep. Ja’Marr carried his celebrations to the center of club with a girl on each arm and another one on his front, he’s clearing having the time of his life. Tee brought a girl back to our section, both indulging on the free drinks being placed on the table.

While I’m sat on the opposite side of the couch nursing my second drink carefully. There’s always eyes on me, no matter where I go or what I’m doing. I should be able to enjoy our party, we did just beat the Chiefs and we’re AFC champs. But there’s too much at stake, then you waltzed in, completely ruining my plans.

Amber brown skin that sparkled in the low lighting, tight kinky curls pulled out of your feline features, glossy red lips plump and pulled up into a smile, and a little v cut black dress that hugged every curve. You looked downright sinful, I took a deep breath as my jeans started to feel tighter.

“You alright bro?” I looked over at the voice and noticed the slight smirk on his lips as his eyes flickered over in your direction as well. “Oh I didn’t she’d make it, I guess nurses do have off days.”

I chewed on my bottom lip and let out a breath. “You invited her. Why?”

Tee shrugged with a look that said I knew exactly why. “I mean we are AFC Champs right? Everyone deserves a celebration.” He winked then got up and walked off with his girl.

I scoffed and brought my drink to my lips. When I looked back over to you, your dark siren eyes were already on mine. My hands itched to touch your smooth skin, the way you sat on the barstool made the skirt of your dress disappear. Your legs, neck and breasts on display for everyone, like you weren’t going to end up under me by the end of the night. A smirk grew on your dark cherry red lips and you picked up a drink that matched your pout perfectly. We silently cheers from opposite ends of the club.

A grimace flexed my face as the dark liquor flowed down my throat. I shake the feeling off and look back over at the bar, but you was gone. Maybe it was for the better, I shouldn’t be seen with you anyway. Then a buzz came from my back pocket, a low chuckle erupted from my throat as I pulled my phone out.

༊*·˚

From: Lioness😈

Miss me 😋

To: Lioness😈

I can’t leave with you

From: Lioness😈

Who said anything about leaving? I just got here🙄

To: Lioness

I thought you had work

From: Lioness😈

I don’t tell you everything

To: Lioness😈

Whatever, where are you

From: Lioness😈

Now you wanna know😏

To: Lioness😈

Ive never seen that dress before

From: Lioness😈

It’s Tee’s fav

joe typing..

From: Lioness😈

Single stall women’s room, behind the wall 3rd door on your left

Threw the rest of my drink back, pushed my beanie low and left the section.

To: Lioness😈

Stay there

read at 11:57 pm

༊*·˚

Turning the corner, there was no one lingering in the hallway, surprisingly. I knocked on the door once and a bronzed hand came out and yanked me inside. Now up close, I could admire your perfectly feline features being beautifully emphasized by your makeup.

Another smirk graced your glossy lips. “I did not invite you here so you could just stare at me. I already know how fine I look, Higgins beat you to it.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, crowding you against the sink. Your smirk slowly disappeared as my hands gripped your waist and my lips dipped to your ear. “If I hear his name come out your mouth one more time, I’ll make you choke on it.”

I felt your heart patter against my chest and a shiver crawl up your spine. “Not so talkative now are you? Now who’d you wear this dress for?”

“No one- myself.”

“Yea I don't think so.” I pulled back and roughly turned you around, facing the mirror. I slid my hands down to your hips and shoved your ass against my crotch.

“Joey!” You yelled in a whisper, glaring at my reflection.

I smirked while palming your cheeks, “just tell me the truth, did you wear this-

My smirk dropped and eyes darkened, you looked into the mirror with those damn siren eyes again. Couldn't be innocent even if you tried, fucking minx.

I shoved the dress up and groaned when your bare ass was revealed. “Where are your damn panties?”

You leaned over to your purse on the floor and pulled out a black lace thong, waving it in the air. “You mean these? I got tired of them.”

Then flung them towards me, catching them I resist the urge to bring the lace to my nose and stuff them in my back pocket.

“You’re just asking to be punished aren’t you? You must really want someone to find us in here. Wanna get caught fucking Cincinnati's best quarterback?”

You roll your eyes, lifting your arms around the sink. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your damn status.”

I chuckle shoving you back down and tugging at my zipper. “Then why are you here?”

“So I could get fucked in the bathroom of a club by Cincinnati’s nerdiest white boy.” Locking eyes with you in the mirror, a small warmth burns in my chest.

“That’s your real status.”

“Well you’re right about one thing.” A low groan is released as my cock’s freed from its cage. Your hand comes up and holds a condom out to me. I rip the wrapper with my teeth and roll it on.

“I’m always right.” You say rolling your eyes, I return the gesture and smack your ass. “Ow!”

I rub the tender meat, massaging the fatty muscle then kick your legs open. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

The little angry look on your face almost make me laugh, like you don’t need me to fix your attitude and get you to actually calm down for once.

“Gladly.” I grin swiping my finger over your heat finding your essence just dripping down your thighs. ‘It’s been a week, but you’ll be fine,’ I think as a line myself up.

“Wait- fuck!”

♡.︶︶︶︶.♡

likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and treasured, as always♥︎

#black reader #joe burrow x reader #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #nfl imagine #friends w/ benfits au #FYS #song inspired #tems #bengals barnesbabe #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #Spotify

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freedomfireflies · 9 months

Note

for mine what if they were picking out a christmas tree or something and got a little frisky…. we know they love their exhibitionism👀

You are so right, it wouldn't be Mine Harry without some exhibitionism hehe I love it

“Harry…Harry, please—”

“Shh,” he coos, nosing under your jaw to place a gentle kiss. Ignoring your needy pleas. “Thought you were gonna be patient, mama.”

And despite his soothing tone, you only pout, fingers curling into his red and black flannel as you plead with him for more. “Can’t. Hurts.”

“Hurts, hm?” Another kiss. Soft and not nearly enough to satiate you. “Oh I bet. If only you had done what I asked, yeah? Then I could have taken care of you.”

Your frown deepens as you recall his earlier instruction. You hadn’t meant to cum after he specifically asked you not to. Really.

But he’d been so determined. So eager to please and make you feel good. And really…you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you nearly whine, clinging to him almost frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I promise—”

He shushes you again and cups the cold skin of your cheek. But he’s smiling, rather smug about your desperation. “I know, sugar. But actions have consequences, yeah?”

You know he’s right, but you’d rather die than admit it. Especially now. “Daddy,” you sniffle, attempting to push up onto your toes in order to kiss him. “Daddy, please—"

“Uh-uh,” he warns, pulling away just before you can reach. “You made me a promise that you were gonna be good today, yeah? That we were gonna pick out this tree and you were gonna be on your best behavior. So you will be. Understood?”

With a huff, you glance around the glistening woods, the idea of Christmas exceedingly less appealing to you now.

You’d been so excited to pick out a gorgeous pine and take it home to decorate. Had been excited to give in to the holiday spirit and spend your first Christmas with him. Just the two of you.

Now, however, the idea of staying out in these godforsaken woods any longer just about kills you.

He’d been so cruel after you’d cum. Met your disobedience with a strange quiet before he was taking his cock from you in order to lick up the remnants of your orgasm. And bring you to a second, as well.

But Harry wouldn’t be Harry if he let you get away unpunished. No, instead, he dangled you there on the precipice of pleasure before abandoning you with no way down. Had given you just a taste of that euphoria before ripping it away.

Leaving you edged and desperate for the foreseeable future.

Which is exactly where you’ve been ever since. And you’ve been edged before. You know what to expect, how to navigate the neediness.

But the moment you got to this Christmas tree farm, you knew you were doomed. Because having to watch him – clad in his soft flannel and dark beanie – as he swung the ax at the tree over and over? As his muscles strained beneath his sleeves and his cheeks flushed from the cold?

Well…he can’t exactly blame you for your reaction.

You feel inconsolable. Clawing at him like a child. Fighting a kind of lust that you rarely succumb to. Because he’s so beautiful, and so strong, and so good. And you love him. More than anything in the world.

And you need him. Need his hands, his mouth, his fingers. Need anything he’s willing to give you. And you don’t even care that you’re in public. You don’t care that you’re out in the frosty air attempting to cut down a tall pine. You don’t even care if the few people traipsing between the trees see you.

You just…you need…you need—

“Daddy,” you try again, bracing yourself against the bark he has you pressed against. “Daddy, please, I’ll…I’ll be so good. Be so good. Do anything you want, I promise. Promise, promise, promise.”

He chuckles to himself, and you almost hate how nonchalant he remains. As though he doesn’t care about the pain you’re in. As though he doesn’t mind if you wither away from the lack of release.

And you don’t expect him to do much. Just…just fix it.

“Is that right?” he hums, and you nearly wilt from the dark, low sound that reverberates from his throat. Sensual and slow. “You’ll be good for me?”

You nod so quickly, your head spins. “Yes. Yes, Daddy, I will.”

And you think he understands now. Think he can see you beginning to slip away – into the kind of headspace you occasionally find yourself in.

And even if he loves to punish you – push you, test you – he loves to care for you more. Make things better, make you feel everything.

You imagine he’s anxious to do that now. You don’t think he enjoys your punishments as much as he claims, not when the alternative is making you feel as pleasured as he can.

The tips of his fingers begin to trace the waistband of your jeans, just below your sweater. Tempting you with a taste of more.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched, mama?” he murmurs now, stepping closer as though to shield you from anyone that might pass. “Think you deserve to cum after making me so sad?”

Somehow, just the thought of upsetting him puts a deep pit in the center of your stomach. “M’sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

He smirks again before leaning in to kiss you. Quickly and with just enough understanding to ease the anxious flutter in your chest. “I know, sweetheart. Sometimes you just can’t help it, yeah?”

Another fervent nod that amuses him, and with that, his hand slips down.

The cool brush of his palm against your warm skin makes you shiver, pussy throbbing from the switch in temperature.

But it’s perfect. He’s so…safe. So delicious and kind and practiced. Feeling you out with a determined precision that nearly has you cumming right then and there.

“Oh, sugar,” he coos, glancing down to watch as his touch disappears between the material around your hips. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”

You can only pant. After all…he knows.

“Bet it’s all achy and empty, huh?” His fingers smooth through your soaked folds, and you suck in a sharp breath. “Bet if I just play with your little clit, you’ll cum all over my hand, won’t you?”

Your head drops back against the tree, and you almost start to cry. He’s so close and yet still too far.

“Is that you want?” he whispers. “Want me to make you cum in front of all these people? Like you’re in fucking heat? Just begging me to touch you?”

You can hardly hear him. Certainly can’t respond. Because he’s right, you’re already close. And if he just…if he keeps…if he’ll only—

“Look at you,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to yours before slipping the tip of his finger inside. “So goddamn impatient. Can never wait for Daddy. Can never obey. Just so fucking greedy—”

“Har…I—”

“S’that why you were squirming in the car, sweetheart? That why you kept trying to put my hand on your thigh?” He begins to pump the long, middle digit slowly, and your toes curl. “Cause it hurt so bad? Cause you just needed something to fill you?

“Yes…yes—”

“But you didn’t ask, did you? No, you tried to be sneaky.” His thumb presses into your clit and you whimper so lewdly, you’re surprised the whole forest doesn’t hear you. “Clinging to my shirt, grabbing my arm, grinding against my leg—”

“Please—”

“And I’m good to you, yeah? Daddy’s good to you? Takes care of you even when you misbehave?”

“Mhm—” You suck in a sharp breath and drag your nails through the curls against his neck. “So…so good, Daddy, please—”

“Maybe I should just fuck you right here. Show everyone how sweet you really are for me, hm?” He adds a second finger, and you can feel your stolen orgasm bubbling to the surface. “Bet you miss an audience, don’t you? Miss having someone watch as I stretch this sweet little pussy with my cock.”

Your lashes fall shut, stomach twisting.

“Cause you like it, yeah? Like the looks they give you. The way they watch you fall apart for me—”

“Harry—”

“Is that what you really want? Want me to spread these pretty thighs and take you? Right here?” He’s pumping harder – pinching tighter. Determined to make you cum before you can stop it. “Want me to make you call out my name so they know? So they fucking know who you really cum for?”

“Daddy, please—”

It’s right there. You can fucking taste it. Can feel it already unraveling, and you know it’ll be strong. Be enough to knock the wind from your lungs and leave you slouched in his embrace.

Then…it stops. All of it. Disappears just as quickly as it approached, and you feel the water rush to your eyes.

He rips his hand out and away before you can fight him, placing the soaked fingers in his mouth with a satisfied hum.

“Uh-uh,” he warns the moment your lips part to speak. “You disobeyed me, mama, and I told you. Actions have consequences.”

Your expression drops, and your insides turn to jelly. “Da…Harry, please—”

“No.” It’s firm. Resolute. “We’re gonna pick out this tree, and then we’re gonna go home. And you will only cum when and if I decide you should. Is that understood?”

“Harry—”

“I said, is that fucking understood?” he repeats strictly, grasping onto your chin to force your eyes on his.

You swallow thickly, the first tear falling free and into his waiting thumb. “Yes, Daddy.”

He swipes it away with a soft smile. “Good girl.” Suddenly, his focus moves to the tall pine just behind you. “What about this one, hm? Think it might look nice by the window. All lit up and sparkling.”

And despite the ache in your cunt and the desperation still clawing at your chest…you laugh. Squeezing onto his wrist with everything you have left.

“I think…it’s absolutely perfect.”

LISTEN, I JUST THINK THEY'RE CUTE AND HE'S SO SWEET WHEN SHE'S ALL CLINGY BUT ALSO HE'S KIND OF MEAN BUT WE LOVE IT (also I swear he made up for it later hehe)

THANK YOU FOR READING!! I will see you tomorrow for One for the Money!! 😭💞💞

~ Full Mine Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrll @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart

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gretavangroupie · 8 months

Text

Exposure

Word count: 11.3k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking. Smut: Kissing, Stripping, Photo Exhibitionism, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Oh! Didn't see you there! Happy February! Welcome to the very first installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy this first story in the set of four. We can't wait to share the rest with you! See you real soon!

You pull your jacket snug against your chest, your camera bag hanging heavy on your shoulder as you make the trek up to the front door of the house. You can hear music coming from the basement already, likely the bands warming up before the show starts. You sneak through the front door, breezing through the mostly empty house in search of the basement. Following the noise, you walk down the stairs and into a small swarm of people all bustling and busy trying to get things set up before the show. How you got roped into shooting a basement show on Valentine's day of all days is beyond you, although it’s not like you have anything better to do.

Your eyes search around for any sign of your friends but you know they’re probably either running late, which is not shocking, or busy unloading their gear outside. You typically never shoot events like this- well, this small, but a favor for your best friend was long overdue. You stand at a small table loading the film into your camera, her one begging request of her set being captured on film, about to be fulfilled. You look around for any other photographers but you see no one, and it’s then that you realize just how small of a gig this really is.

You did your best to blend in tonight, donning the industry standard of black, but realizing now that it almost wouldn’t have mattered what you wore. You kept it simple with a black long sleeve shirt, and a pair of black leather pants, adding a heeled boot to give yourself a little extra height behind the lens.

You grab an extra roll of film and shove it into your pants pocket before placing your camera bag beneath the stage for safe keeping. People are quickly starting to fill the small basement, and you’re thankful for this weeks’ cold snap, knowing that this basement would be sweltering otherwise. You pull your phone from your pocket checking for any signs of life from your friends, laughing as you see a ‘we’re running late’ text. Shaking your head you put your phone back in your pocket and start to check your settings, adjusting to the lowlight of the room.

The basement is fully packed at this point, the first band stepping on to the stage and starting things off with a blaring guitar intro. The lights dim even further, causing you to adjust your settings again, and you wonder if you need to grab your flash attachment. You feel a tap on your shoulder, a rush of nerves in your chest as you spin around to see who it could be.

“Are you shooting film?” A pair of dark brown eyes asks, a look of genuine curiosity painted across the irises.

You smile and hold up your camera, “Yeah, I am! How did you know?”

A smile sweeps across his face, his long dark hair hanging well past his shoulders, but partially obscured under a red beanie. His cheeks are flushed red, either from the cold outside, the alcohol in his system, or the weight of his cable knit sweater. “I’m a bit of a hobbyist. Specifically film. I recognized your camera.”

“You did? This thing is pretty old.” you say, pulling your hair from beneath your camera strap.

“Yeah, I have the same one. Mines the silver version though.” he says, leaning in closely so that you can hear him over the loud music.

You look up at him, and nod, leaning back in towards him as you respond. “Oh really? Does yours have the battery door issue?”

His hand lays softly against your shoulder as he leans in closer, ready to respond but your attention is ripped away as you see your friends in your peripheral.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, my friends just walked in and they are actually supposed to go on next.” you say holding up your camera to show your purpose of being here in the first place.

“You’re fine, go ahead.” he smiles, pulling away from you and taking a sip from his seltzer.

You send him a soft smile, taking a final look at him before turning to meet your friends. As you walk up to meet them you can’t help but to look over to where you were just standing, finding the mystery man gone. You scan the room as your friends talk at you, looking for any sight of him, but you’re snapped back to the present as they are called up to the stage.

With a hug from your best friend and a kiss on the cheek she darts up the small stairs with a smile. “Wish us luck! And make sure you get my good side!”

You make your way towards the front of the stage, checking your settings one more time as the band starts to play. Admittedly, they sound a lot better than they did the last time you saw them perform, and the crowd behind you really seems to be into them. You even notice a few people wearing their merch and wonder when that happened. Had you really been that absent?

You duck down as you work your way across the front of the stage, snapping photos of your friends as they play their hearts out. You quietly apologize to the people you block with your camera, taking a quick glance behind you with each step you take. About two songs into their set you’ve made your way to the opposite side of the stage, looking behind you only to catch a glance of your mystery guy, standing against the wall with his drink.

You try to pretend you didn’t see him, but it’s no use as you trip over an electrical cord and make a complete spectacle of yourself in the process. However, when you don't collide with the concrete of the basement floor and instead are met with a pair of warm steady hands, you feel a sigh of relief hoping that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t see you trip after all. Turning to face your hero, you’re met with none other than your hobbyist.

A grin spreads across his face as he helps you to stand, one hand in his, and the other firmly planted on your camera.

“Falling for me so soon? At least tell me your name first…” he jokes, letting go of you as you steady yourself on your feet.

“Y/N…And thanks, I– guess they ran out of Gaff tape and I found the only cord not taped down.” you laugh.

He smiles and shakes his head in faux disgust, “Rule number one, always carry an extra roll in your gig box for the ladies. I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Well, Sam, thank you for not letting me fall in front of all of these people.” you laugh.

“Oh, I was actually saving the camera… Precious vintage...” he winks, pursing his lips together.

“Oh, of course. Yeah.” you stammer, suddenly feeling ridiculous.

As if he can sense your distress he places a hand on your arm, “Wait no, I was kidding. Of course I was saving you. Let me– Can I get you a drink?” he asks, trying for a peace offering.

“I think I’m kinda out of hands…” you laugh, snapping a photo as you focus through the viewfinder.

“I’m not…” he counters, “Whad’ya want? I’ll grab it for you…”

You lick over your lips, deciding maybe a drink assistant wouldn’t be too bad. You turn over your shoulder as he leans close letting you talk into his ear. “A seltzer, I don’t care what flavor, surprise me.”

He gives you an understanding nod and turns on his heels, disappearing into the crowd.

You watch your friends start to close up their set and you compose another set of photos you think will be the shots of the night.

“A drink for the lady…” he says, as he holds a drink up in front of the lens. You lower your camera and spin around to grab it from him, watching him crack the lid open before he hands it to you.

“Prickly pear, huh…” you pause, taking a sip of the fizzy drink. “Did you know that was my favorite or just a lucky guess?”

“Well, I figured… you have great taste in cameras…” he trails off, taking the drink back from you so you can continue to shoot.

You feel him lean into your shoulder, his warm breath on your neck. “The red light really does nothing for photos, does it…” he laughs.

“No, and I’m half convinced that’s why they do it.” you retort.

“Oh, it definitely is. Trust me. That and it looks badass.” he laughs, stepping back again.

As the set ends you watch your friends leave the stage, ready to drink and party with the rest of you. The room quiets to a dull roar as the next band starts to take the stage, ready to set up their equipment. You lower your camera around your neck, letting it hang freely as you turn back to Sam.

“You get the shot?” he asks, sipping the same Prickly Pear Topo Chico.

“I think so, looks like I’ve got…” you pause, checking your dial. “Two left on this roll. Should probably change over before the next act. Here, smile.” you say, holding the viewfinder to your eye.

He blushes a little, holding both of the drinks in his hands and giving you wide open mouth smile.

You capture those last two images and hear the winder start to spin. “That’ll do it!” you say, dropping your camera around your neck and pulling the extra black film cartridge from your pocket.

“Oh here, let me help you. You have your drink…” he offers, holding out your can.

“No! You don’t have to do that, it’s totally fine, I’ve got it. Just need to find a table or something so I can–”

“I know I don’t have to, I just– want to. I wanna help.” he says, his eyes sweet and genuine.

You think about it for a second, and consider that you really don’t have anything to lose. He wouldn’t be offering if he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Okay, sure, I’ll hold your drink now.” you smile.

His eyes are focused as he works to remove the used film, replacing it with the new roll as quickly and efficiently as he can, making sure not to expose the roll. He clips the door shut and makes sure it's secure before placing the camera strap back over your head, pulling your hair out from beneath the straps as gently as possible.

“There. Perfect.” he says, a warm smile on his lips.

“Thanks Sam.” you answer, offering his drink back to him.

“You can call me Sammy. All my friends do.” he says, accepting the wet can.

“Oh, are we friends now?” you ask playfully, all the while thinking that you might want to be a little more than that.

“I’d like to think so. Or– I hope so. I think you’re cute, film camera girl.”

“Do you?” you murmur, holding the can to your lips.

As if feeling a little shy, he ducks his head a little and licks his lips, “I do.”

Before you can reciprocate his sentiment the third band starts, and somehow they are even louder than your friend's band previously. The drums are blaring loud and you can tell they need their mics turned down about three notches. You take a few photos, figuring you can never have too much in your portfolio, but after a few shots and the crowd becoming a little too rowdy, you quickly decide you are done ‘working’ for the night. You lower your camera down and spin to talk to Sam, but you find he’s gone.

Your eyes scan the crowd for him, but again, you see no trace of the cream colored sweater or his red beanie in the sea of people. You do, however, spot your best friend off in the corner of the room being hit on by someone you know to be exactly her type. You lock eyes with her, raising a brow and she just smiles at you as she continues to talk to the tall dark haired man.

Letting her have her time with him, you make your way back to the stage to grab your camera bag. You head up the stairs, grabbing a new drink from the bar area and again searching for any signs of him. You mingle with a few strangers, making pointless small talk about work and the latest gossip before excusing yourself to the bathroom to pee. As you wash your hands you sigh at the missed connection with such a thoughtful and good looking guy, but chalk it up to being Valentine’s Day and not wanting to fall into that stereotype.

With your new friend gone, you decide to seek out some of your old ones. With your gear bag slung over your shoulder, you head towards the thick crowd in the main living room. As you make your way through, your neck cranes around the bodies in your way, searching for a familiar face. Looking out the back window, you see your friends near their band’s van. You push open the squeaky screen door and are greeted with a harsh gust of freezing cold wind. You retract, and before you can regain your senses, you hear someone calling your name from a little ways away.

When you get your eyes open, Sam is standing against the side of the house, exhaling a puff of smoke. He’s giving you a sweet, closed lipped smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. You feel a few butterflies in your stomach as you take in his sweet face, relieved that he’s happy to see you hasn’t disappeared like you thought. You approach him with a sweet smile, holding on to your bag strap with both hands while your main camera hangs around your neck.

“It’s cold as fuck out here.” You say honestly, suppressing a grin. He nods, taking another inhale off the cigarette between his fingers, his smile making it a little difficult. “I thought you left.” you add while he exhales the smoke away from your face.

“What, without you?” He says with a quirked brow and a playful smolder. You laugh, stunned silent by his charisma. He realizes and laughs it off, reaching towards you. “You need a hand taking that stuff to your car?” He asks, dropping his cigarette onto the lawn and stepping on it. He offers you a hand and you willingly offer up your bag, even though you really don’t need to.

“I didn’t really feel the need to get any more photos of the third band. I didn’t think the headache was worth it.” You say, a little tongue in cheek as you walk. Sam laughs loudly once, like it slipped out, then shakes his head looking at the ground in front of him.

“I was trying not to be too judgmental but, yeesh. They’re really something, aren’t they?” You laugh and pop open your trunk and he sees inside as he puts your bag in.

“You have a Pentax too?” He asks, seeing the other bag you left in the trunk.

“I do. I have a couple lenses for it, I use it when I shoot… bigger stuff.” You say, not trying to sound braggy.

“That sucker is heavy though. You must be jacked if you’re holding it up for an entire show.” He jokes, reaching for your bicep and squeezing twice. You flex a little, giving him a wink before you break character and laugh with him. You pull your camera from around your neck and slip it into its case.

“No but, I uh, I have a couple lenses too. I have a pretty big collection… It’s actually getting a bit out of hand at this point. If you ever want to borrow anything...” He mentons, helping you close the trunk. When he reaches up, his sweater rides up a bit and reveals that he’s got a white shoestring laced through the loops of his pants like a belt.

“I’d love to check it out,” you say honestly, rubbing your arms to try and warm up. The wind is brutal but the conversation is worth freezing for.

“This may be a bit forward… but the weather sucks, this music sucks… We could go have a drink at my place and I could show you?” He offers, shrugging a little bit.

“Well…” you start, looking over at the van on the other side of the yard. Your friend seems to be deep in conversation with the guy who was helping her load up, so you’re sure she won’t miss you if you slip away. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

“Two things, though. One, we have to take your car, since my friend was my ride. Two, I’m driving, because you’ve had a few.” He says, giving you a boyish smile and holding out his hands so you can put the keys in them. You eye him with playful suspicion for a moment, but then figure you’ve got nothing to lose.

“Fine.” You flick open your car key and offer it to him between two fingers with a grin.

As he gets in, you can’t help but micromanage his actions with your car as you buckle your seatbelt. “The emergency brake is down by your left foot, and just ignore the light on the dash.”

“I guess I should have told you that I have, indeed, driven a car before. I’m qualified.” He says, starting it and adjusting the mirrors. He’s a good bit taller than you, so he cranks the rearview upwards quite a bit. You roll your eyes at his comment, letting the radio play quietly rather than anything from your phone for fear of judgment.

“There aren’t any street lights on these back roads. You should put the high beams on.” You comment, looking over at him for a moment, taking in his side profile. He cracks a wry smirk and flourishes his hand, turning them on.

“You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?” He asks, not looking away from the road. You snicker softly.

“When I want to be.”

Before he can say anything in response, his phone starts to buzz in the center console. He reaches for it, swiping quickly across the screen to answer the call from a contact named Danny.

“Daniel!” He shouts, putting the phone on speaker. Without hesitation, you take it from him so he can use both of his hands and drive. He doesn’t object as the voice from the other end of the phone pipes up.

“Where’d you get off to?”

“Uh, I left. Are you good to get home?” Sam answers, flipping the brights off when a car drives by on the opposite side of the road. He puts them back on once the coast is clear.

“I’m fine, yeah, just checking in. Didn’t know you left. You bag that chick you were chatting with?”

You huff a laugh and look over to Sam shaking your head. Is this really how guys talk on the phone?

“Daniel, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell…” he jokes, sending you a wink.

“Right, are you going to that event tomorrow?”

“I had forgotten about it until this very second, but yeah. I said I would. Are you?” Sam says, and you pick up a bit of an accent. There’s a long A in forgotten where the second O should go. You smile softly as you watch the road and listen to them talk.

“Hell no. Neither is Jake. You’re stuck with Josh and his girl. So, have fun with that.” Daniel says, and you can hear him getting into his car on the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Alright, get home safe.” Sam says, sighing. They end the call and you’re more than tempted to ask him the meaning of all that, but he’s pulling into his driveway and the nerves start to take over, shutting you up. “Sorry about that,” he says, parking your car in his driveway next to his own.

“Do you live by yourself?” You ask, getting out of the passenger seat. The wind is still strong and it chills you to the bone. Sam sees and picks up his pace as he leads you to the front door.

“Yeah, it’s just me.” he says, looking over his shoulder as he puts his key in the door. It’s warmly lit inside his house once he steps inside and flips on the lights. There’s an array of musical instruments scattered about as soon as you enter, amps and drums and guitars either hanging on the wall or resting against each other. You raise your brows, looking over at him.

“You’re a musician, too?” You ask as he puts your keys on the cabinet near the front door. There are sliding doors across the front that are opened just slightly to reveal a substantial vinyl collection.

“I have many hobbies.”

You smile as you follow him through the house, looking around at the art covering his walls. It smells like incense and it’s warm- a little warmer than you would keep your house, but it’s cozy.

“I keep everything in here,” he starts, flipping on the lightswitch in one of the bedrooms. It’s furnished with a daybed, like a guest bedroom, but the opposite wall has a desk and shelving full of cameras, cases, lenses, accessories, attachments galore. You raise your brows, surprised, but mostly impressed.

It’s a solid half hour that you spend going item by item, gently looking over everything he’s collected, from vintage to like-new, functioning and under repair. He makes a point to tell you where he got each one, the quirks and intricacies of them all.

“That one’s really my favorite for portraits,” he says as you look over a lightweight film camera with a noisy lens, clicks filling the room. “She’s got a way about her that makes everyone look good, you know?” You nod, looking it over, peeking through the viewfinder.

“I dunno, I might be a lost cause.” You say, a little self deprecating. He sucks his teeth at you in playful disappointment.

“I just mean that, you know, as photographers, there aren’t many photos of us. I don’t think I’d know how to pose myself for a portrait.”

“Well, you don’t pose yourself, silly.” He says, looking up at you, not lifting his head and moving only his eyes. There’s a little smirk on his lips. “We should try it.”

You give him a suspicious look, laughing nervously.

“I look like a mess from the wind and… I’m hardly wearing any makeup..” You say, starting to rattle off excuses as your cheeks heat up.

“So? You look perfect. I don’t want to take… fuckin’ headshots. I want to capture you. This version of you, the pretty photographer that I’ve spent my evening with.”

The two of you lock eyes for a moment, his honeyed irises so warm and kind and sweet that you probably can’t say no to him if your life depended on it.

“Okay.”

That’s how you end up in his sunroom, sitting patiently on his couch as he gets set up, sipping a glass of wine. The room is full of plants and you brush your hand against the burnt orange velvet upholstery of his couch underneath you. You watch him move around the room, pushing the ottoman out of the way, adjusting the throw pillows on the opposite end. He reaches behind his head and pulls his thick sweater off, his shirt riding up to show that little shoestring belt and this time, a light dusting of hair above the waistband of his pants. He tosses aside the sweater, leaving him in a white t-shirt. You swallow a gulp of your wine, feeling a little warm.

“I like how you said, ‘as photographers,’ like you looped me in there with you,” he muses. “You’re a professional. I don’t belong in the ranks with you.” He says, grinning as he uses an app on his phone to mess with the lighting from the lamp in the room. It’s a hazy, warm light when he’s done, absolutely flattering to the eye, so you can only imagine how it’s going to look when he captures you.

“If you take pictures, and you enjoy it, you’re a photographer. I don’t think it’s fair to gate keep art of any kind, or… something that brings people joy, you know?” You say, watching as he grabs a cream colored, cable knit throw reminiscent of his sweater and drapes it behind you.

“That makes sense. Not all photographers are as humble as you, though.” He says, looking down at the camera and making some adjustments. He holds it up and looks at you, then he pulls it away. He looks again, then he hums like he’s thinking about something.

“This black shirt is kind of one-dimensional. I feel like it’s swallowing you up, you know? I feel like there's too much contrast with the colors in the room.”

You sip your wine and think for a moment, looking around. He’s probably right.

“What do you think about green?” you ask, leaning forward, placing the wine glass on the table in front of you.

“Do you have another– oh…” he starts, but is effectively silenced when you start to pull your shirt over your head. Underneath, you’re in a sage green longline bralette, the band of lace under your chest covering a good two inches of your waist. It’s not too revealing and from the shoulders up, it probably looks like a shirt. You shake out your hair and look up at him, tossing your shirt aside.

“Does that look better?” You ask, smirking at his reaction, pretending to be all business. He looks at you through the viewfinder and you hear him clear his throat.

“Much better. Yep. Uh huh.” he says, hiding his face behind the camera, but you know he’s looking at you. “Sit up for me?”

You adjust the way you’re sitting, sitting up straighter. He lets the camera hang around his neck as he approaches you, reaching out to gently position you. He puts your hand in your lap, then gently pushes some hair behind your shoulder. The other side, he wraps around his finger once, making sure it lays in a flattering way. He looks at you, not scrutinizing you, but deciding what he wants to do with you. His touch makes you feel like you’re on fire, his hands warm and so gentle, his motions purposeful and confident despite the delicate way he handles you.

He crouches down in front of you, holding the camera to his eye, and you feel a wave of panic wash over you. You suddenly feel exposed in front of the lens, and it must be evident on your face as he moves his finger from the shutter release and lowers the camera from his eye. “You feel nervous.” he states with the nod of his head.

You shrug ever so slightly, finally feeling the nerves your clients tend to feel. You try to shake it off, but Sam, ever perceptive, pulls the camera from around his neck and sits it next to you on the couch. He pulls his own shirt over his head, leaving him in the same state of undress as you are. “There. Even?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

You smile and nod, doing your best not to stare at the small smattering of a happy trail at the top of his pants. You bite your lips together before looking back into the lens, hearing the shutter click and the film wind. He brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face to the side with the gentle touch of his index finger. He pulls it back quickly, returning to the shutter button and snapping another photo. He hums from his place behind the lens, standing quickly and scanning the room for something.

His heavy footfall pads across the room, snatching something from his piano bench before returning to his place on the floor in front of you. In his hands is a multicolored jewel tone pashmina, soft and worn, and clearly a staple in his wardrobe.

“Can we try this?” he asks, holding it up against your skin.

“Let me see…” you answer, grabbing it and draping it over your chest. With your torso completely covered you reach beneath it, pulling the green bralette over your head as he watches you with wide eyes. You toss it to the floor next to him, and reposition the fabric to just cover your chest as you lean back into the couch.

He swallows nervously as he stretches up towards the couch, adjusting the fabric how he sees fit. Your stomach shows beneath the edge of colorful fabric, the curve of your breast just peeking from the top.

“I– I think this is gonna be a good shot.” he says, looking at you through the lens. “Lean your head back a little more, and turn it to the side, just a touch.”

You follow his instruction, knowing the angles of this shot have to be incredible from his place on the floor.

“Perfect, I just…Didn’t want any shadows on your throat…” he whispers from behind the camera. You hear the shutter click, and a murmur of ‘fuck’ leave his lips.

You stay where you are as he lowers the camera, his breathing picking up a little bit as he tries to remain calm. “Your skin is so…pretty…” he breathes, letting his eyes sweep over you.

Your eyes connect with his, and in an act of insanity you pull away the pashmina, letting it pool at your side. His eyes can’t help but to flick down to your chest, his jaw dropping slightly before he notices and looks back up at your eyes.

“We don’t have to–”

“Do you not want to?” you ask, settling back onto the couch.

“No, I very much do.” he answers a little too quickly.

“So go ahead. Capture me.”

He takes a deep breath, holding the camera to his eye and lowering it back down. He grabs your hand and places it gingerly over your chest, letting your fingers rest just over your nipple. He brings the camera back to his eye, and takes the photo. “Fuck you’re gorgeous.”

Your cheeks blush and you hear the shutter click again.

“Sorry, but I think that's the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.” he says.

You smile and shake your head, letting your hand trail to the button of your pants. You slide the button through the loop and pull the long zipper, until just the smallest glimpse of your thong is visible.

You watch him swallow nervously again, focusing the camera on your hand as it lays across your stomach. As he captures the photo, you watch him try to recenter himself, knowing that he is probably just as turned on by this as you are, if not more.

“Take them off…” you suggest, watching his eyes flick up to yours.

“You sure?” he asks again, making sure you’re still comfortable.

“Very. If you are, I mean.”

“Lay across the couch. On your stomach.” he instructs, moving himself to sit on the edge of the chaise to your left. You position yourself against the plush couch, propping yourself up on your elbows, as you look back at him sitting behind you.

“Yeah, just like that. Stay there. Look at me, beautiful.” he says, growing more confident.

He leans forward, swiping your hair over your shoulder, giving him an unobstructed view of the curve of your back. And just as your eyes connect with the lens, he presses the button.

“Perfect.” he breathes, lowering the camera again. He stands from his place behind you, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, pulling them gently down your hips until they rest at the apex of your ass. Your thong is fully visible now, only the floral lace resting against your hips.

He moves back and you feel the couch dip as he kneels behind you, straightening the seam of the pants to rest perfectly in the center, his fingers brushing against your bare skin. You feel the goosebumps rise, and you hear the shutter, smiling as you know he’s caught the moment.

“Are you always this responsive to touch…” he asks, sliding your pants further down over your ass, pulling each leg free until the leather fabric is in a pile on the floor.

“No. Only when it’s really good…” you answer.

“Lift your hips up for me, rest on your knees a little, and arch your back.” he says, kneeling on the edge of the couch. His hand slides down your back to assist you, and slides back up, stopping at the hem of your panties. Two fingers hook into the fabric, pulling it down just slightly as you hear the camera shutter.

You can feel your arousal between your legs, not too far from where his fingers linger, but he releases your panties, sliding them back into place and letting his hand drift over the curve of your ass. He stands up in front of you, and you drop back down, stretching fully across the couch. You lay your head on your hands as you look up at him, watching him crouch down in front of you. He pulls a few pieces of hair over your shoulder, and moves your arm further up to reveal the swell of your breast as it presses against his couch cushion.

“Pop your hips up just a touch...” he breathes, holding the camera to his eye. “Look at me, baby.”

You bat your eyes as you look at him, seeing the photo in the reflection of the lens as he takes it.

His chest is heaving as he pulls the camera away, crawling towards you on his knees as he dusts his fingers over your spine. “You make an incredible muse…”

“A good photographer knows that seeing isn’t enough. You have to feel it.” you answer, melting into the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I think I feel it too much…”

He slides his hand down your arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you back to a sitting position. He reaches for your wine glass, turning back to you and placing it into your hand. You bring it to your lips, but as you tip the glass a stream of red wine trickles down the stem, dripping rapidly onto your stomach.

His eyes flick to yours, then down to the small streak of red against your skin, leaning his head forward and letting his warm tongue lap at the spilled alcohol.

Your eyes close on their own, a breath leaving your lips at the feeling of his lips on your body. He pulls back from you, waiting for your eyes to open, and as they meet you can see he’s asking for permission to continue.

You open your legs allowing him to move closer, and he takes that as his consent to move between them. He pulls the camera from around his neck, placing it gently on the couch next to you, before grabbing your wine glass and placing it on the coffee table behind him.

His hands slide up your thighs, his eyes examining every inch of your skin until he meets the edge of your panties. His eyes meet yours and you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on your skin again.

He hooks his fingers through the fabric and pulls them over your hips, tossing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He takes in a deep breath, lowering his face to your heat, but never breaking the eye contact he has with you. You let a hand slide through his silky waves, silently telling him you wanted this, and he obliges, pressing a kiss to your groin.

You feel his tongue swipe up through your center, long and slow, hot and soft against you. You fist his hair at the contact, a hum leaving his lips as they vibrate against your clit. Your legs open wider, allowing him to hook his arms beneath your legs, pulling you down the couch to meet his mouth. His tongue works at your clit, flicking back and forth as wet sounds fill the air in the room. His cheeks are flushed as his wet lips suction around you, his brown eyes fluttering closed with every pointed lick.

You can hardly tear your gaze away from him, your chest heaving as he brings you closer and closer to your release. Your hand reaches out to grip into the cushion, instead landing on the body of the camera next to you. It feels cold against your hand, and as you look at him you realize you might feel it a little too much, too.

Grasping it in your hand you pull the viewfinder to your eye, positioning him in the frame as he continues to work you towards your orgasm. As his eyes flick up to you, he's met with the camera lens, hesitating momentarily before pulling an elastic from his wrist. He doesn’t cease his actions as he pulls his hair into a messy bun, resting low on the back of his neck. He places his soft hands on the insides of your thighs, looking up into the lens with his blissed out eyes, ready for you to capture the scene below you.

Hearing the shutter, he grips into you harder, sucking your clit into his mouth with more force, desperate to get you there. His fingers brush your entrance, and with a carefully timed swipe of his tongue he presses them forward until his thumb replaces his tongue applying pressure to your clit. His fingers work inside of you until your legs start to shake with desperation. He replaces his thumb with his lips once more, the warm, wet sensation inching you closer and closer.

You take a few more shots, hoping to capture the way his dark lashes kiss his cheeks, and the way his nose brushes against you so delicately. Knowing the most vulnerable shots are usually the best.

He ruts his hips into the couch, desperate for some relief and the groan that leaves his chest is all it takes to push you to the edge. You drop the camera to your side, pulling his face to your body as your orgasm rocks through you. A pathetic sounding whine leaves your lips as his mouth slows, he pulls his fingers from you as gently as possible.

You’re left a panting mess as you ride the waves of your high, but as you open your eyes and see him licking his fingers, you reach for the camera once more, capturing the act forever on film.

He stands, offering you his hand with a smirk. You can’t help but to notice that his fingers are still pruny and soft as you place your hand in his, letting him pull your shaky body from his couch. He bends over and snatches the camera from the couch cushion before pulling you down the hallway towards his bedroom.

As you step over the threshold into his bedroom, you’re met with the dark walls and rich earth toned bedding. He drops your hand, and checks his film, before setting the camera on the edge of his bed. He grabs your hand again, and pulls you into him, snaking his other hand around your waist and pulling you close to his body. His eyes search yours before his lips crash to yours, a heady mix of cigarettes, red wine, and you.

Your tongue tangles with his as his hands grip into your hips, his hardness pressing against your bare stomach. You pull away, locking your eyes on his as you fall to your knees in front of him. You slide your hands up his thighs until you reach the thin white shoelace at his waist, pulling the tip until it unknots itself and slides to the floor. You feel him reach for the camera, letting it hang around his neck once more as he watches you.

You unbutton his pants, feeling the brush of his length against your hand. You work quickly to pull the pants and boxers to the floor, letting him step out of them as you take in the sight of him bare in front of you. You lean forward to kiss at the smattering of hair at his happy trail but you’re quickly stopped before your lips ever make it there.

He grabs your chin in his hand, placing his thumb over your swollen pink lips, pulling the plump flesh down to expose your bottom teeth as the camera snaps the image above you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can think of nothing but the feeling of your mouth around him.

Unable to wait any longer you grab him in your fist, stroking him a few times back and forth as his eyes study your movements. You wet your lips in preparation for him, letting your tongue dart out to lick a hot stripe up the underside of his cock.

He pulls the camera to his eye again, “Stay like that. Just like that baby. Look up at me.”

He rests the tip of his cock in your open mouth, snapping a few shots as he leaks onto your tongue, before tossing the camera to the bed. “Fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before? You look so fucking gorgeous.”

You smile around him, closing your lips and humming in response. You let your tongue slide up his length, taking him as far back as you can the first few times before working into a steady rhythm. Your eyes are locked on his, a look of awe and desperation written into his features.

His hand finds grip in your hair, moving with you as you work him, gentle whines falling from his lips as you swirl over his tip with each upward stroke.

Swallowing around him he sucks in a harsh breath, letting you slide back up before repeating the action. You tense around him as you gag, your eyes blinking away tears wanting to continue. Your eyes roll back as you taste the saltiness on your tongue knowing he is nearing his release.

He pulls away from you, cupping your face in his big warm hands, his thumbs swiping away errant tears.

“I– You’re– Get on the bed for me, sweetness. Wanna ruin that pretty cunt before I cum.”

You look up at him, swallowing thickly, a little shocked by the side of himself he just showed you. You take his hand with a grin as he offers it to you, standing and hopping up onto his bed, laying yourself back on his pillows. He follows you, leaning over to reach for the camera on the nightstand before doing so. He leaves it on the pillow next to your head, focusing all of his attention on you for the time being.

He’s tender for a moment, leaning down to kiss you briefly before he situates himself between your thighs. He kneels above you, looking down at the sight before him. He traces a gentle line down your sternum, then back up, dragging lightly against the expanse of your clavicle, then back down once more. His eyes seem to roam over every inch of you while you wait patiently for things to advance.

“You…” he starts, a breathy laugh leaving his throat, like he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “So gorgeous.”

“You’re sweet.” you respond, parting your thighs a bit more for him. He hasn’t stopped his feather light touches just yet though.

“Is that how you like it?” he asks, catching you a little off guard. Your eyes flick up to his and you can’t help the way you squirm a little at his directness.

“I…” you start, but he promptly silences you with a pinch to your nipple, pulling a wanton moan from the depths of your chest.

“Ahh. There she is.” He says, smiling. He lets go and leans down to give it a kiss. “Just trying to get a read on you.”

He palms your breast as he pushes back up, unable to take his eyes off of you. You watch the wheels turning in his head as he squeezes firmly, his eyes cutting to the camera next to your head.

He picks it back up, adjusting it with lightning speed. He looks through the viewfinder once before reaching for your tit again, your nipple slipping between his long fingers. He snaps a photo, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concentration while the aperture adjusts, the settings on auto now to save time.

“That artistic part of your brain just doesn’t turn off, huh?” you ask, reaching up to run a hand down his stomach, your patience running out.

“Blessing and a curse.” he mumbles, reaching forward into his nightstand. As he’s leaning over you, you can’t help but take a moment to place a few wet, searing kisses to his jaw and throat. You know they’re appreciated when he bucks his hips against you, his dick dragging against the inside of your thigh.

He sits back up, tearing the foil of the condom with little difficulty and flipping it over once or twice to check which way is right. He eventually distinguishes top from bottom and starts to slide it on, looking down in concentration.

After he’s done, he leans down towards you, placing hungry, wet kisses wherever he can find purchase. He reaches between your bodies, taking himself in his palm and brushing the head of his cock through your folds.

“Wait…” you say, and he rests his head on your chest for a moment, looking up at you with patient eyes.

“Yes, sweetness?” he says, pulling back, unsure if you’re about to call the whole thing off. You take a deep breath, reaching down to touch him gently.

“Can we take this off?” You murmur, your hand waiting to pull it off the moment he gives you the green light.

“God, yeah,” he says enthusiastically, a little chuckle leaving him as you haphazardly pull the condom off of him and toss it by the wayside. “Absolutely. Fuck. I want to…” He trails off, like he’s about to say something else, but once you slip the tip of him inside of you, he can’t get a word out.

He pushes in about halfway, stopping to settle and watch your reaction. You gaze up at him, reaching up to play with one of your nipples. He takes in a sharp breath at the sight before pulling out a little before he pushes all the way in, slowly.

“Oh… oh my god,” you manage to get out, unable to help the way the words scratch their way out of your throat. Sam’s eyes are glued to your center, watching himself enter you.

“Everything about you…” he says, taking a trembling breath, “...is fucking picture perfect.”

You smile at the compliment and watch his face for a moment, the way his dark lashes move quickly with his blinking eyes trying to process everything at once. He starts to move slowly, the drag of him making your breath hitch.

He fucks into you slowly, deeply, your head swimming at the sensation. It’s good, but it’s not quite enough, and you can’t help but speak up.

“Sammy…” you begin, calling him by his nickname, like he asked, affectionately. “Harder. Please.”

He snaps his hips into you in response, giving you a dirty smirk from above.

“You’re a backseat driver in the sack, too?” he quips, moving back on his heels a little to change the angle and give himself more range of motion.

“Shut up and fuck me. How’s that?” you bite, grinning up at him. Before you can even prepare yourself, he snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head in just one of his big hands, your slender wrists slotted between his lengthy fingers.

He looks like he’s about to snap back at you, but then his eyes narrow a little. He reaches for the camera again, holding it against the side of his body to flip the switch and open the aperture. He lifts it to his eye and snaps a picture of his hand pinning your wrists together, the strap of the camera falling a little bit into the frame.

Once he’s done, he drops the camera again and braces himself with his free hand, picking up an almost brutal pace. You can’t complain, because it’s what you asked for, and god did he deliver. The sound of skin on skin, his body meeting yours, rhythmically bounces off the walls of his bedroom. You cry out at the feeling of him, reeling at the sensation of him so deep inside you. Warmth starts to build in your stomach, your head getting dizzy.

“Are you getting close?” he asks in your ear, slightly breathless. You whine in the affirmative, spreading your legs further as if you need him even deeper. He lets go of your hands, sitting up a little straighter but still thrusting into you hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. Your eyes start to flutter closed, your back arching, and you feel his hips stutter slightly as he moves a bit on top of you.

There’s some clicking and you know what he’s about to do, but you can’t be bothered to change a single thing about what you’re doing. You reach for your chest, holding your tits steady as he pushes you towards the edge, waiting for the moment.

“Gonna cum…” you warn, your brows knitting together.

“Come on, beautiful. I’m ready.” he coos as it hits you, your lips parting, your head tilting back as you gasp for breath. You don’t register when the shutter sounds, but you feel the camera hit the pillow again and Sam’s got both of his hands on your waist, so you know he must have gotten the shot.

He slows his pace, allowing you to catch your breath and come back down to earth. His hand slides up to your throat, running his thumb over your lips in the same manner he did earlier, but this time instead of letting him tug at your lip you suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, pulling his hand back and slowly pulling out of you. “Turn over for me.”

You blink up at him, a little bashful, your eyes darting to the camera, then back to his. You try to suppress a grin and give him a little shake of your head.

“Do you trust me?”

Feeling a little giddy, you roll over, pulling your hair over your shoulder before propping yourself up on your knees. You keep your face in his pillow, your eyes watching the camera laying near you as he presses inside you, the position allowing him somehow deeper.

His hands find your hips and as he starts to move, the grip tightens, pulling little hiss from between your teeth. You’re glad he doesn’t hear because you’d hate it if he stopped.

“Gotta be careful…” he mumbles, his voice strained. “Feels a little too good.”

You hum, a little laugh leaving you. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met, and definitely different from anyone you’ve ever slept with. His playfulness mixed with the dominance that peeks out on occasion is a potent combination you can’t seem to get enough of.

He uses his grip on your hips to pull you back into him, his pace slower, but the feeling of him nudging at your cervix with every stroke makes up for the change in speed. He rubs a hand over the curve of your ass as he slows down and releases his grip.

“Goddamn, that’s beautiful.”

The camera disappears and you push up on your forearms, suddenly shy and nervous and feeling like a shot of that isn’t quite as artistic as the rest of your photos. You look at him over your shoulder, a little suspicious.

“No, no no. Your back, your hair on the pillow,” he reassures you, a warm hand on your back. You giggle a little, laying back down. He splays your hair across the pillow, then taps your arm. “Move this up under you.” You do as he says, one arm and hand under you, the other hand above you, fisted in the sheets. His hand drags slowly up your back before he speaks again. “Arch a little more. Like you were before. Yeah, perfect.”

Click.

It lands on the bed, then he starts to move again. He groans, a bit louder than he has been, and you know he’s hanging on by a thread.

“Are you… Are you on birth control?” He asks, his voice slightly boyish in this moment. You can’t help but laugh softly.

“What, you don’t want to knock me up on Valentine’s day?” you joke, and he freezes. You wonder if you said the wrong thing for a moment, but then he speaks softly.

“I’m confident you won’t like my answer, sweetness.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, and when you do, you can’t stop the words that fall from your lips.

“Try me.”

He pushes himself deeper into you, so much so he leans over and braces himself on his palm next to your face. He’s closer now when he speaks, his breath hot on your shoulder.

“I’d love nothing more than to knock you up on Valentine’s day.”

Holy shit.

“So no plans in November, then?” you quip, grinning as the weight of him pushes you into his pillow.

“Mm, nothing too big, just a world tour.” he responds, thrusting a few more times. “Super flexible.” he grits out. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, feeling him start to twitch inside you.

“The answer is yes, by the way. About the birth control.”

“....It’d be cooler if you weren’t, but alright.” he jokes, his voice straining as his hips start to falter. You can hear him breathing through clenched teeth as his grip on you tightens. You tighten around him, arching your back just a touch more and as you drop your head between your arms, you see his hand frantically reaching for the camera one last time.

You can feel the tension in your stomach tightening, his hand sliding up to your shoulder to pull you back to meet him. “There you go, baby. Keep squeezing just like that. I’m right there.” he says, and you can tell by the lilt in his voice he is waiting for you.

You rock back, your bodies slamming together with a lewd smack, the sound itself just enough to tip you over the edge. You feel the rush wash over you as he pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist as his hips continue to move. He lets out a small grunt with each forceful spurt inside you, and you feel a wave of euphoria sweep over you as you realize he wasn’t joking after all.

“Fuck…” he whines, pulling out of you. You can hear him adjusting the lens of the camera and you’re so caught up in your own bliss you couldn’t care less that he is documenting his work. You feel him rest his hand on your ass, palming your cheek to the side for a better view as he leaks down the inside of your thigh.

The camera clicks, and just as you start to lower yourself down, you feel his fingers swipe up through the warmth dripping down your leg, stopping you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to look at him, his eyes completely fixed on you as he slides his cum covered fingers inside of you.

“Just for good measure, huh beautiful?”

You hear the shutter click a few times, a few indiscernible mumbles of praise from his lips, and finally the thud of the camera as it lands next to you on the sheets. He pulls his fingers from you, tapping your ass softly as an indication that you’re good to relax.

The mattress shifts as Sam gets out of bed, his footsteps heading towards the bathroom. The light shines for a moment accompanied by the sound of running water as you wait patiently. He’s back soon after with a warm, wet washcloth, and he gently parts your thighs to start cleaning the mess he made.

It’s quiet as he tends to you, his breathing slowing down as he does. Once he’s done, he slips into bed behind you, pulling your back to his chest.

“So… what are you gonna do with those pictures?” you ask, the smile on your face audible as you speak.

“Well, get them developed, I guess. But aside from myself and the poor person at the film lab, nobody will ever see them. Cross my heart.”

“And me,” you remind him.

“Yes, yes. And you, sweetness.” Silence hangs over the two of you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Will you stay?” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. You wrap your arms overtop of his where he’s holding you tight, nodding.

“I don’t think you could force me out of this bed.”

–

You’re woken by the warmth of sunshine on your face. Blinking and trying to remember where you are, you refamiliarize yourself with Sam’s bedroom in the daylight. Your eyes clear and focus on the camera sitting on the nightstand.

Sam is in a deep sleep, snoring softly with his mouth open, a few strands of his hair stuck to his face. You can’t help but smile at the sight before slipping out of bed and quietly sneaking through his house to collect your clothes strewn about.

You peek into his bedroom once you’ve gathered all of your belongings and he’s still out cold, only his feet poking out from beneath the sheets. Your eyes are pulled to the camera again, and then an idea forms. You tiptoe inside and carefully grab it, doing your best to remain quiet.

Needing darkness, you head for the bathroom and wind the film. You duck into his other bedroom on the way and grab an empty film canister. Hoping it’s quiet enough to not wake him, you close the bathroom door behind you and wait a moment before taking the roll out and putting it in the black container.

Once you’re done, you retrieve your keys from the cabinet by the door and grab an old receipt he must have just pulled out of his pockets when he was putting his keys in their usual spot. There’s a pencil on the music stand of the nearby piano, so you snatch it and leave him a little note. You write out your phone number, draw a little heart, and put the camera over the corner so you know he’ll find it. You silently sneak out the door and lock it from the inside behind you.

The drive back to your home proved to be shorter than anticipated, the light of day giving you a better sense of your location. You glanced over to the rolls of film laying in your passenger seat, taking mental stock on how many bottles of developer and Blix you had sitting on your shelf. It was times like these you were grateful for your little makeshift film lab, knowing that Sam said he would probably send these rolls off somewhere, and that some poor guy would have to see every lewd act appear right before his eyes.

You snatched the rolls from your seat and grabbed your camera bags from your trunk before making your way inside to your warm house. Feeling grimey, you ran yourself through a quick shower, eager to see what was waiting for you on these rolls of film.

Stepping into your lab you place the film rolls on the table, grabbing your Patterson canister, your chemicals, and your scissors to start the process. You trim the leads on the film rolls, smiling as you see your roll next to Sam’s. With the leads trimmed, you flip the light switch in your completely blacked out guest room, leaving you in total darkness as you pry the bottoms off of the rolls of film.

You load the long slippery strips of film into the plastic spools, screwing the lid back onto your canister before flipping your lights back on. You grab your chemicals and make your way to the kitchen, running the faucet to heat the water bath. It’s been a while since you’d done this yourself, but the process was ingrained into your memory, and you were careful to not miss a single step. You drop your bottles of Developer and Blix into the water bath, grabbing your thermometer from your junk drawer.

Your phone buzzes on the counter as you wait for the temperature to rise, your heart pounding as you see a new number flash across the screen. You make your way back to your lab, grabbing the canister off the table as your chemicals reach temperature. You carefully pour the developer into the canister, agitating it every few seconds while you read the message on your phone.

Unknown:

9:12am: Off so soon? And with my film? Should have known I’d never see those beauties. 😏

Your timer goes off letting you know it’s time to move on to the next step, so you set your phone down, ready to pour the developer out of the canister. Satisfied with yourself for not making a mess, you pour in the Blix, leaning away from the fumes as they waft through the air. You do your duty, agitating the chemical as directed, waiting the allotted time until it's ready to pour out.

You debate answering him right away, trying to leave just a touch of mystery in the air. You decide that you’ll wait until the film is done, teasing him with a photo for his eyes only.

You rinse your film with water to rid it of the chemicals, knowing there’s only a few more steps until you can see just how talented of a photographer Sam really is. You pour in your stabilizer, letting it sit for a minute, biting your lips together as you suppress the urge to text him back immediately.

With a deep breath you pour out the stabilizer, and unscrew the lid, ready to see if the evidence of your night came out in the wash. With shaky hands you pull the film strips from the spools, seeing 36 clear images appearing on the transparent roll of sepia film. A huff of laughter leaves your chest, seeing the negative image of your body in the tiny rectangles.

You suck your teeth as you hang the rolls of film to dry, knowing that in about an hour or so they will be ready to scan into your computer.

—

It seems like it’s taking longer than usual for the film to dry, at least it feels that way as you check for the hundredth time. An hour and some change later you’re dashing back to your computer with the film, scanning it into Lightroom to start inverting the images.

Your breath is stolen straight from your lungs as you see the first image. Your cheeks flame red at the sight of yourself, spread below Sam. You continue to click through the negatives, completely shocked at how good his composition is. You knew he was a hobbyist, but you start to wonder if maybe he missed his calling. You swallow harshly as you continue to look through them, but then you realize just how beautiful the photos actually are. You almost feel bad that you stole them away from him.

You work through each image, inverting the colors until they appear as they really are. You note the vintage look on the film and check the empty roll for the date. You smile as you read ‘86, knowing he shelled out a good amount of cash for that roll, and he decided to use it on you. The film comes out warm and grainy from the low light, but you feel that it adds to the photos, and you can’t think of a better turnout.

Your eyes catch on one photo, and after inverting the colors your suspicion is answered. The long finger shaped outlines on your hips were forever cemented in time. The memory of his grip burned into your mind. His body is connected to yours, and you can almost remember the feeling of him inside you as you look at the photo. You feel a rush wash over you, and you grab your phone tapping a few buttons on the screen until the camera opens. You bring it to the screen and snap the photo before attaching it to a text.

You

10:47am: *Attachment*

10:47am: I had something… pressing…to tend to. 😉

You snicker at your comment, hoping he will get the joke as you add his contact to your phone. You bite your bottom lip in concentration as you continue to work on the images, fixing the coloring and resizing them to the appropriate proportions.

As you reach the beginning of his roll, you start to see images of daily life, with people you don’t know, but are clearly happy to be having their photo taken by Sam. Bright smiles and warm moments captured by his keen eye.

Sammy

10:53am: Wow, um…

You

10:54am: I think they turned out pretty good, what do you think?

10:54am: *Attachment*

You attach another image of yourself draped across his couch, his pashmina spread across your body, the light hitting your throat exactly how he planned.

Sammy

10:55am: You’re so gorgeous, I don’t even know what else to say if I’m honest. I have to see the rest.

10:56am: Do you…Need help? I normally send my film off to be developed but it would be cool to watch.

As you click to the next image you sit in shock, trying to place the face next to Sam’s on his couch. You drop your phone to the table in front of you, trying to focus. You’re going positively crazy running through faces in your mind until it hits you. You take in the features and realize the man sitting next to Sam is the guy your friend was flirting with all night. Your heart starts to race as you make the connection. Is that the friend he left last night? Did she go home with him?

You blow out a deep breath and finish up the last photo of Sam and another long haired man, drinking foamy beers in what looks to be a foreign country. You smile at the bubbly mustaches on their lips and grab your phone to reply to his message.

You

11:02am: You’re a really great photographer, Sam. These shots are really, really good. All of them.

11:03am: If you really want to see the process you’re more than welcome to, kind of makes you feel like a mad scientist haha. I don’t have much going on at the moment, probably going to work on this next roll if you want to join.

Sammy

11:05am: What are you up to tonight? I have a work event I have to go to, but I’ll probably dip out early, especially if I have a good reason. 😉

You

11:06am: I have to shoot a show tonight, but I’m free after that…

Sammy

11:06am: So…

You

11:07am: Bring your film and a bottle of red. I just might have a few rolls we can use while we wait. 😏

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wh0re-in-the0ry · 1 month

Text

SOLD TO CHUCKLE SANDWICH??? 😱😱😱

🩸🐑🩸 Please go away Tucker 🩸🐑🩸

Heads up: I tried to write how I used to in middle school. It’s certainly a fic. Cw for cringe an the use of “…” an ungodly amount of times

It’s an early Monday morning, I wake up, toss my silky blonde hair into a messy bun, and change into something for school. It’s my first day as a senior…again. I need to wear something that I can blend into the crowd so nobody notices me but I also don’t want to be too basic…

After digging through my closet for a while settle on something. It’s simple, black shoes, black skinny jeans, my trusty gray beanie, my glasses (of course), and my definitely authentic chuckle sandwich t-shirt:

Honestly I think this is a perfect outfit for what’s hopefully my last first day of school.

I check the clock, 7:18, I should get going if I don’t want miss my bus… I grab my backpack and start to walk out but as I pass by the kitchen, I see something…

My mom was talking to three men, all their backs were facing me so I couldn’t tell who they were but their voices sounded… familiar. One of the men turns around as I try to get a better look at them and my jaw drops as his brownish orbs meet my blue ones.

“T-Ted Nivison? Wha- what are you doing in my apartment??”

Ted smiles, “You must be Y/n, your mother was telling us all about you.” The other two men turn around and they are… SCHLATT AND TUCKER??? I nearly drop my backpack, why was Chuckle Sandwich at MY APARTMENT?!

“That doesn’t answer my question… Why are y-you all here?”

“These guys are buying you,” my mother answers after she takes a long sip of her black coffee.

…

“WHAT?!”

My face goes pale and my eyes widen. She’s selling me? What? How is that even legal?!

“These guys wanted to buy you,” she’s saying this way too nonchalantly, “and I needed money.”

I sink to the floor. My head is spinning. Is this real? No- it can’t be. I’m going to wake up any second now! This is all a silly dream I can post about on my blog and get 12 notes on. I just need to wake up now… wake up… Wake up… WAKE UP!!

“Uhh…Y/n...?” I open my eyes again and look up at Schlatt who seem slightly uncomfortable, “I know that this is a lot to take in right now… but you need to go grab your stuff so we can go now..”

“G-go where…?”

“The Chuckle House.” Schlatt doesn’t elaborate further.

“The Chuckle what?”

“The Chuckle House, it’s where we’re all going to live :)” Tucker says, “We’ll explain more on the way there”

“Wait I’m leaving right now? What about school??”

“School can wait,” Ted quips in, “but I need to return the u-haul by 2:30 so we should get going..”

I look out through the kitchen window, a moving van was parked outside next to a really nice car I’ve never seen before, the rental’s back was opened, and by the looks of it there was just enough space for a couple bags of my stuff.. today can’t be real… “M-mom… is this real?”

“I’m sorry, Y/n…” She almost looks guilty for once, “but I mean it could be worse, I didn’t have to sell you to your favorite YouTubers. I could’ve sold you to Mr.Beast’s coal mines or Wilbur Soot”

I guess she’s right? But it’s still kinda messed up. Knowing Mom, she’s dead set on this whole thing and I was planning on moving out once I graduated anyways… I might as well try to make the most of this. “Alright…” I sigh, “I’ll go grab my stuff…”

I go back to my room and shut the door… this is actually happening… wow… I don’t know how to feel right now… if only I used code word “CHUCKLE” on betterhelp to get my first online therapy session free back when they were sponsored by them…

I rummaged through my closet and pack all my clothes, well at least all the ones I can fit into my old gym bag… I grab a tote bag and stuff the other essentials: my sketch book, copic markers, toothbrush, charger, and whatever cash I had saved up.

With everything packed, I start to head back out to throw it all in the u-haul. Schlatt and Tucker are gone and I see Ted handing over a check to my mother. He looks over to me, “You all ready, Y/n?” I nod, it feels weird having the Ted Nivison say me name.

I wave bye to my mother and she closes the door as we leave. Ted takes my gym bag and backpack to put in the back of the truck as I sit in the passenger seat with my tote bag. I look back out to my old apartment building… I see my mother through the window, drinking her coffee, going along with her day as if this was normal… Mom…

…

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” I snap back into reality and suddenly we were out of the complex and in a McDonald’s drive thru, how did I not notice him driving?

“Do you want anything?”

“Oh uhhh…” I don’t really feel like eating now, “just an orange juice…please.”

“You sure?”

I nod.

“Alright then…” Ted starts asking for his order and I look out of the window again. Questions flood my head. What am I to these people? A servant? Property? Am I going to be allowed to finish school still? Was that the last time I see my mom? Do I even want to see her again…? Do I?

…

“You do that a lot?”

I snap out of it again, we’re already out of the drive thru. The orange juice was now in my hands, how did I not notice him passing it to me? “Huh? Do what?”

“You space out a lot,” Ted points out as he pulls out his McMuffin and hands me the brown paper bag, “There’s another one in there for you in case you get hungry…”

“Oh- uhh thanks…”

“No problem,” he says while taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich with one hand and steering with the other.

…

Uncomfortable silence fills the u-haul. The only noise we have is the sound of Ted’s quiet-ish chewing and my thoughts that I’m sure he could sense. This is unbearable. I need to stop the quiet somehow. “So… you mind if I ask a few questions?”

“Oh- yeah go ahead,” Ted sounds relieved I broke the silence.

“So what am I? Like company property or something?”

He cringes at my words, “I guess technically? I don’t really like the sound of that though… how about we just say you’re a uhh… permanent assistant maybe?”

“Okay then…” I nod, “was any of today legal?”

“Oh definitely not,” he pauses for a moment, “it’d be pretty cool of you to not report us to the police about this…”

“Yeah okay,” I don’t even think the police would believe me if I told them so there really isn’t a point of reporting him.

“Cool thanks…”

“No problem,” I take a sip of the orange juice, it’s lukewarm. “…so what’s the Chuckle House?”

“Oh right- we didn’t really explain it to you properly huh?”

“You really didn’t, no.”

He lets out a small uncomfortable laugh, “Well… Me, Schlatt, and Tucker bought a house in LA and we’re planning on making some irl content in there.”

“Wait- how’d you convince Schlatt to move out here? I thought he hates it out here.”

“He does- but not as much as he says he hates it on the podcast. Besides the potential ad revenue was too good for him to pass on.”

“Fair enough… so I’ll be able to keep going to school and work and stuff, right?”

“Oh? You’re mom didn’t tell us you already had a job.”

“Well I do- I drive those kiddie trains at [insert mall]”

“That sounds… cramped.”

“It is…”

“Well you can keep going to school but we might need you to help us shoot content so the job thing is in the air..”

“Wait you want me to help you guys film?”

“Yeah- that’s kinda why we bought you”

“Wha- but I’ve never held a camera in my life or done anything like that”

There’s a brief pause, “…you haven’t?”

“Nope.”

“Shit…we’ll figure something out…”

That’s all he has to say about this?!

…

Well I guess it is.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not as uncomfortable. I plug in my earphones to my phone and listen to my favorite artists, [insert favorite artist] as I watch the cars pass by us. It’s kinda nice…

It’s not long before we start to pull into a neighborhood that’s way nicer than anything I’ve been near. It’s like I’ve been transported straight into one of those home goods magazines. We’re finally here… the house is huge, I feel poor just looking at it… How did these guys afford a house like this in this economy? Schlatt probably paid for most of it.

Maybe I should try to see the positive in all this… Let’s ignore the implications of my my mother and these guys for now and try to enjoy the fact I’ll be living in a nice house with my favorite YouTubers. I mean I do have to unpack all of that stuff soon but for now I should just help Ted out with unloading the u-haul.

—-

An:

Hey thanks for reading this, it was certainly an experience writing it. Let me know if y’all want a part two to this mess it was fun to write. (Just to be very clear, this is not an xreader in the sense of romance but in the sense of y/n interacting with everyone.)

Comments/criticisms are welcomed :)

-S

#s writes #a homage to my wattpad days #schlatt #jschlatt #ted nivison #tucker keane #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #ted nivison x reader #chuckle sandwich x reader #sorry for giving y/n mommy issues

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milesmolasses · 1 year

Text

SKATER BOI (e-1610 miles x blk! reader)

— miles is a skater boy and u can’t tell me i’m wrong

— felt bad cause the beach fic was supposed to be up today, but instead y’all can have this

— alexa, play feels like summer by childish gambino

— ⚠️: fluff, gn black reader, miles + reader being cute, cursing

standing outside of your door, miles stood with his duffel bag over his right shoulder, and his board wedged between his right arm and torso. ever since you agreed to skate with him, even going as far as to buy your own board, he wanted to surprise you with a little date/gift he had prepared.

you opened your door to the sight of a bubbly presence and a big smile on miles face. "whatchu smiling for?" you questioned with a confused smile on your face.

"get ready, i’m taking you out. oh, and grab your board too," he stated quite matter of factly. before you could even open your mouth, he was already booking it towards the stairs to wait for you at the front of your building.

"damn… now I don’t gotta choice," you mumbled to yourself in the now empty hallway.

closing the door to your house, you changed into more appropriate clothing than the ones you had on now. that clothing consisted of a pair of baggy jeans and an even baggier t-shirt, as well as a beanie to keep your locs from flying into your face. grabbing your board along with the wallet you stuffed in your jeans, you were off downstairs to meet miles.

walking out of the building and on to the street, you turned to look at miles and asked, "so you gonna tell me what’s in the bag?"

rolling his eyes he told you that telling you what was in the bag would ruin the surprise, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

miles had a tendency for surprising you with little things. it wasn’t like he was loaded, but he figured that the little things he gave you were much more personal and meaningful than any expensive gift he could have ever given you; like his art. small photos of you along with other drawings were plastered all over your wall, curtesy of your boyfriend.

after about fifteen minutes of walking, you reached the skate park. you were met with a bunch of brooklyn kids from around your neighborhood either smoking weed, hanging out and skating with their friends, or both simultaneously.

following miles to a set of stairs with a bunch of skid marks on the rail, he set down his bag and his board and motioned for you to hand him yours.

"c’mon it’s part of the surprise," he laughed as he shook his hand out asking for the skate board.

giving him the board, you watched as he set it down wheels facing up, and he opened the duffel bag he brought with him. "of course," you thought.

in the bag was a solar system of different spray paints and paint markers to choose from. you should have known that this would be something miles would do. "you wanna paint my board?"

"I mean, kinda?" he flipped his board so the wheels were facing up alongside with mine. what you didn’t expect was a clean slate. miles board wasn’t painted like it was before, no, this was an entirely new, clean skate board.

"I want to paint your board, while you paint mine," he stated looking up at you and smiling.

"you bought a clean board for me?" you said in a high pitch voice in disbelief.

"don’t flatter yourself now, if it turns out trash i’m goin' back to the old one," he joked. you knew he was joking— miles was in love with everything you made, it was all beautiful to him.

your knees bent down next to miles, squatting with him on the concrete. you grabbed his board and rolled your eyes at his previous statement.

grabbing the screw driver, miles removed the trucks on both of your boards in preparation of painting. once he was finished, you got to work with grabbing the board and going to the other end of the stairs. when he asked why you were "leaving him all lonely" you simply replied with, "you seeing my work of art would ruin the surprise, duh.”

you grabbed the few colors you wanted to use on the board and went back to your side of the stairs. getting to work with spray painting his entire board light green, an image flooded your mind on what you wanted to do with his board.

after thirty minutes (give or take) of working, miles glanced to your side and spoke loudly, "yo, you almost done over there?"

"uh nooo— wait are you already done??" you questioned in disbelief, seeing miles dust himself off and stand up.

"yeah, all I gotta do is shine it," he shrugged his shoulder back and stretched out his arms. you sighed in disbelief at how quickly he was able to finish his freestyle painting. you could practically hear him saying, "i’m just that good" with a goofy smug look in his face.

turning back to your- or his board, you were able to get it done about 10 minutes after miles had finished spraying a clear coat on your board.

adding some finishing touches, his board was finally done. you walked back over to miles with the board flesh behind your back, with the painted side facing away from miles view.

"you ready to see my masterpiece morales?"

"your masterpiece huh?" he questioned feigning an impressed look on his face.

"mmhm, i’m pretty sure I seen this in a renaissance painting before," you said with a nonchalant shrug. miles raised an eyebrow at you.

“sooo you copied a renaissance paining?”

"nah," you whispered, leaning in closer to miles to tell him your big secret. "them renaissance niggas copied me," you said proudly pointing to your chest.

miles rolled his eyes as he backed away from you. “shut the hell up and show me the board,” he laughed.

you huffed as you brought the board into his view from behind your back. it was spray painted light green as it’s base, and what decorated the shade was a large yellow sunflower with the word "MILES" painted dark green and growing out of the sunflower like a stem. surrounding the sun flower were doodles of even more multi colored flowers and hearts.

miles nose flared as he laughed through this nose. he couldn’t help the loving smile that creeped onto his lips as he walked closer to you and grabbed the board out of your hands. he placed a chaste kiss to you lips as he mumbled, "I love it baby, thank you."

you smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, placing kisses all over his face. you pulled back suddenly and asked, "hmm so where’s MY board morales?"

"don’t worry I gotchu," he said as he pulled away. he walked a couple steps backwards and grabbed the board showing you the absolute masterpiece he made with nothing but his hands and his amazing brain.

it was a horizontal painting of you facing a wall, and on that wall was a collection of graffiti you had painted across brooklyn with miles throughout the years you knew each other. it looked like water color art with the way all of the light colors dripped down together at the bottom of the board.

"okay… so maybe I am a little blown away," you admitted as you looked at the board shocked. turning your head to look at miles, you gently placed the board down on the ground and you ran up to miles with the biggest smile on your face.

you basically threw yourself at him as you buried your face into his neck, mumbling a small "thank you" and "I love you."

as he squeezed you back, he mumbled into your beanie with a smirk, “so am I the best boyfriend ever or what?”

— made this super quick

— bought a skateboard last summer and barely used it

— but TRUST, this year it will be in use

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lowkeyrobin · 6 months

Note

hello! can i please request hcs with quackity about being in a long distance relationship with him?

yes omg!! thanks for the request! ; I tried, I tried not that great

QUACKITY ; long distance relationship

summary ; you and quackity are online daters /j

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 686

y/s/n = your ship name

masterlist

you met at Twitch Rivals

you're both content creators which is obviously how you met

you guys bonded over shared interactions and the games you'd both lost

you got along so great that you exchanged information and decided you should stream together sometime

a couple weeks later you were invited to a jackbox stream with him, fundy, tommy, tubbo, bbh, and niki

shit went crazy

"Y/u/n, is there anything you'd like me to call you before we start? Like nickname or just y/u/n?" Niki asks

You graciously answer her, letting her know your name and proffered pronouns. Tommy makes a little, very lighthearted joke before pointing out someone in chat already making you and Niki and you and Alex ship names.

"Oh God, they've got us" You chuckle. "They're both mine, chat"

"AYO? SINCE WHEN?" Alex shouts

Niki giggles, covering her mouth.

"Since now" You shrug

you decided to try dating during the second north carolina meetup

you both had some fuzzy feelings about each other and mutually agreed on 'well hey, we like each other, why not try it out?'

being near the beach and with all your friends made it like a dream

but after two weeks, you had to go home

but you left your relationship untitled for now

Streaming together continued as per usual. So did long talks and phone calls, and hours spent playing video games (mostly Minecraft) together.

the next trip was to LA to visit Alex this time

you guys had your first kiss on his balcony overlooking the city

the way he giggled after omg

during that trip, you established your relationship and started to go on every day dates and stuff

but then you had to go home again

Honestly, both of you didn't really think about what to do with your relationship once you went home. You were taking it all in while you had it and weren't thinking about the very true reality of it all.

you thought talking was constant? it is now

sometimes both of you will just stay up late and rant about what you like about each other and corny shit

youre the one to softlaunch the relationship to fans

you probably guessed the password to his twitter/instagram and changed his bio to "y/u/n's bf 💯💯"

he didnt even know until people were flooding his dms and people on tik tok were talking about it

hed already said he was okay with telling people as long as you were tho

sends you pictures of flower bouquets once a week with some thought out, very loving paragraph or poem

he constantly complains about not being able to kiss or cuddle you

"y/n/n why are you so far away!?"

"i told you id be able to pay for you to live with me"

"UGHHHHHHHHH"

sends you good morning/goodnight texts and talks about what you'd be doing that day if you were together

cheesy little man

always spamming you w pics of Tiger

will religiously send you memes and blow up your phone if you're busy or ignoring him

yk the relationship is srs when even your qsmp characters are in love

the lore.

half of its heartbreaking angst and the other half is literally your bucket lists/daydreams of the future of your relationship

hes so down bad for you

will do anything to make you smile or make you flustered

will make the most suggestive jokes in front of friends, stay silent for a second or two and yell "im joking, im joking!"

orders you doordash/uber eats when you're doing subathons or generally long streams

will always join through vc/greenscreen when youre doing cooking streams

you'll do greenscreen dates (like the fiances stream) once a month and gossip over takeout LMAO

genuinely asks his fanartists to make ship art of you two because he loves seeing all the ideas and cute shit

they always draw you with one of his beanies or hats on, the occasional necklace

you reblog tumblr y/s/n fanart 24/7/365

karaoke streams are a must

you guys rank those "songs that all white people love" videos and rate the songs

dare or hot wing streams when youre literally anywhere but near each other>>

also playing just dance using vc and stream green screen>>>

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader #quackity oneshot #quackityhq x reader #qsmp x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader

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fruity-mega-coconut69 · 2 years

Text

Both of Them?

[pairings]: wenclair x normie!reader

[summary]: You realize you have fallen for not one, but two outcasts. What are you gonna do now?

[warnings]: swearing, author is unexperienced

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were never the person who was into relationships, if you ever were in one, it never lasted long. You always either got bored or the affection was too much for you to handle.

So when you started to feel butterflies in your stomach every time you saw a certain raven-haired girl come into the library of Jericho, claiming that there are no books left in the school library that she is interested in, you were freaking out.

You didn't want for her to turn out like the other people you had liked, they always ended up to be heart-broken or just simply didn't like you back.

And just when you thought that you would never have to see her again, because she hadn't been to the library in nearly a month, she shows up again with a bubbly, blonde-haired girl by her side.

At first you were jealous, but then one day Enid ( you heard Wednesday say her name once or twice) noticed and decided to talk to you, which included talking to Wednesday.

You three quickly became bestfriends, even though she never showed it, Wednesday cared about you too. And what started with you all being friends it ended in you falling for both of them.

You felt guilty, but you really should have seen it coming. You were known to have crushes on your friends and you didn't know why. Not all of them at once and almost never from you group of friends, just a not so close one. They ever only lasted around 8 months or a year, if you didn't confess.

So when after all the Crackstone shit, you still had strong feeling for both of them, you decided to tell one of your closest friend.

" You what?! " She shouted after you told her. " Wait, wait. Let me get this straight, you fell for an outcast? " you nod " And then, that outcast got a girlfriend? " you nodded slowly " Then you fell for that outcast too?! "

" Yep, that's what happened "

" Bitch, i don't know how you did that, but okay. " She said after a moment of silence.

" what do you think i should do? " you asked.

" you should definitely tell them, see what happens. " She said, sitting down on her bed.

" Okay. if you say so" You say hesitantly before sitting down next to her. Getting ready to watch a movie.

---

Considering you were a 'normie' you never got the chance to hang out in Wednesday and Enid's dorm. But one day Enid had asked you to sneak into their dorm so you all could have a movie night and you agreed.

To say that they forgot about it was kind of an understatement. When you climbed up onto their balcony and tried to get in through the window as quietly as possible you didn't expect to see Enid and Wednesday kissing furiously on Enid's bed. You were practically frozen to the spot. You didn't know what to do. When you slowly came back to reality, you saw that they had yet to notice you. You quickly went back out onto the balcony and climbed back down from it.

" Hey! " You heard a voice behind you.

You slowly turned around to see a boy in a beanie and a girl with black hair and glasses ( which she took off pretty quickly) " Who are you and what are you doing here? " The girl shouted over the sound of the heavy rain, that you hadn't even taken notice of.

" H-Hey, i mean no harm! I-i just came here to-to see a friend of mine " You smiled awkwardly at them while wrapping your arms around yourself.

" Friend of Wednesday or Enid? " The boy asked.

" Both?"

" Both?! " The girl chuckled slightly under her breath " okay, then come with us. It's freezing out here." She slowly took you arm and started walking inside.

" YN " You say quietly.

" Huh? "

" My name, YN" You repeated.

" oohh, well I'm Yoko and this is Ajax "

"cool"

" So, you a normie? " Ajax asked you as you all arrived to, what you assumed, their dorm (just pretend they are roommates ).

"uh, yeah. I know Wednesday and Enid from the public library in Jericho, "you said after you went inside with them.

" and what did you want in their dorm? " Ajax asked as he sat down on his bed and signaled for you to copy him.

"well, uh they invited me over for a movie night, but i guess it's canceled now" you say as you blush slightly.

" Why - " Ajax said before he was cut off by Yoko slapping the back of his head " Aw, why did you do that? "

She just rolled her eyes and shrugged " you are just really dumb sometimes " she says as she had now changed clothes and looked ready to go somewhere " I'm staying at Divina's tonight. You can sleep in my bed. "

" Why would you let a stranger sleep in your bed? "you asked, blinking a couple of times.

" Any friend of Enid's is my friend too " Smiled at you before walking out and closing the door behind her.

" Well, if that's the saying then here " Ajax handed you some clothes " you can use these are mine and clean " He grinned proudly.

You took the clothes and went to change in the Bathroom. After you changed you went to Yoko's bed and laid down, feeling a little uncomfortable sleeping in someone else's bed " Good night " you heard Ajax say from the other side of the room and looked over, seeing him just sitting in the corner of his bed, wrapped in his blanket with his phone in his hand as he turned of the lamp on his bedside table.

" Night "

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

pt. 2?

#wenclair #wenclair x reader #jenna ortega x reader #emma myers x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #enid sinclair x wednesday addams

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solaris-amethyst · 2 months

Text

💫 Animal Crossing vs Stardew Valley💫

✨Pairing: non idol!Seonghwa x gn!reader ✨Prompt: You and your best friend Seonghwa argue about which game is better than the other. ✨Word count: 0.7k ✨Genre: fluff, best friends ☀️Authors Note: I definitely play way more Stardew Valley than Animal Crossing so had to get the help of my friend who's played AC way longer than I have to have some good materials for this one shot! Let me know if you liked it!🥰

"There is no way you prefer Stardew Valley over Animal Crossing New Horizon." Seonghwa said looking at you flabbergasted after you had confessed you preferred said game over Animal Crossing.

"Why wouldn't I prefer Stardew Valley over Animal Crossing?! Stardew has so much more gameplay and a storyline and it's so much more fun!" You argued back at him, he sat up straighter in the sofa the two of you were sitting in with his mouth hanging open as if he could not believe the words you had just uttered.

"No no no you're wrong! Animal crossing is much better, the villagers are super cute, you get to choose who stays on your island! You can't do that in Stardew! You're forced to have the exact same people as everyone else!" He said as he turned his switch towards you to show his villagers who were waving and just in general being cute.

"Well at least I don't need to restart or get a new switch if I wanna restart a new farm in Stardew! You have to delete everything if you wanna start a new farm meaning you'll have to delete all your memories and that's no fun!" You pout "And besides Animal Crossing don't have Krobus so that's automatically a minus point!"

"What the hell is a Krobus?!" Seonghwa asked making a face causing you to gasp and turn toward him almost offended he asked who Krobus is.

"He's a precious friendly monster! You have not seen his little face when you gift him an emerald! He's adorable!!" You defend the creature.

"Well do your villagers congratulate you on your birthday?" He argues back which causes you to let out an annoyed:

"No they don't."

"Hah! See! My game is superior! They sing a little song and do a little dance for you. Plus the visuals are much cuter than your game!"

"Hey! The visuals are really nice as well!!" You lightly hits his leg as he laughs.

"Besides Stardew stresses me out. I want to be relaxed when playing a game and yet there's a time limit every day, if I want to save I gotta go to bed and if I'm mining I get attacked by everything from crabs to slime monsters to bugs." He rants and it brings out a laugh from you.

"That's why Animal Crossing is slightly boring. There's no fighting, no action or adrenaline rush while playing the game! Plus Stardew has a storyline, your game is over once you earn three stars which is like what do you do after that?" You retaliate and you can see something click in Hwas head as his eyes starts looking a bit mischievous as he fights a smile.

"Well you know Sprout Valley is better than your game!" That caused you to gasp, there was no way he actually uttered those words to you.

"You take that back! You agreed last week when we played it that it was good but not as good as our favorite games!" You point at him and he's now wearing a Cheshire grin on his face

"I changed my mind" He singsongs, giggling at your flabbergasted face.

"Get over here!" You say pouncing at him to tickle him causing him to shriek trying to get away from you.

"Stooppp!!! Hahahahaha noooo stop it Y/n!!!!" He tries to push you off of him but hes unsuccessful of getting you off and stopping your attack.

"I will stop if you take it back and say Stardew is the best game out there!!" You smirk trying not to laugh at how he was turning red from laughing.

"Okay! OKAY!! Ahhhh you win!!! Stardew Valley is the best game out there!!" Once he had screamed that you stopped, laughing at him. Seonghwa looked as if he had been to war with his now tousled hair, beanie on the ground and shirt slightly tangled.

"See! I won." You say sitting back in your corner of the sofa looking like a cat who just got the cream. Enjoying your victory over Seonghwa who usually was the one who won these kind of arguments. Your victory did not last long before he wheezed out:

"I lied. Animal Crossing and Sprout Valley is leagues better."

"Why you little shit!" You said before lunging at him with a screech causing him to let out a scream of his own trying to avoid your fingers who were ready to tickle him again until he gave up.

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anjee0 · 9 days

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My brother's best friend

Chapter 1 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

B Rabbit x Female!reader. (Feel free to put an oc insert if you wish as well)

Description - In which Y/n starts to become friends and possibly more with her brother's best friend, BRabbit.

Warnings - Throughout the series there will be: Mild swearing, Smut, Mentions of drugs and alcohol. (More warning to come throughout the series)

Y/n laid on her bed, flipping through her vogue magazine. She admired the beauty of models, hoping that maybe one day she could be displayed in it too. It was her dream for as long as she could remember. Everyday, when she was younger, she'd sit in front of her TV, watching models on the runway as her mum braided her hair. She missed her mum, the way she was so sweet and loving with her and her brother, the way she was supportive of her daughter's dream. Y/n missed every part of her. Her dad left when she was only two, so she never knew him well.

Suddenly, the telephone down the hall started ringing. She knew her brother Jordan wouldn't pick it up. He was downstairs drinking and smoking weed with his friends. It made Y/n irritated, she was the one who had to clean up after their mess. Whenever she asked Jordan to change the hangout place, he simply refused saying that their house was the resigned hangout place.

Y/n picked up the phone and put it to her ear.

“Hello, Y/n speaking.”

“Hey girl!” A cheery feminine voice called through the phone. It was Carly, Y/n's best friend since middle school.

“Hey Carly, you okay babe?”

“Girl, get ready, we're going out!”

“Now, where?”

“Chin Tiki, I know you're stuck at home with your brother and his dumb friends.”

“Yeah, I am, the house stinks of weed.”

“Well hurry up and meet me at Chin Tiki before your brother makes you clean the house again.”

“Okay, okay, I'll see you. Bye.”

Y/n hung up the phone and ran to her room to get ready quickly. She decided to wear a mid thigh dark blue denim skirt with a simple top. She did her hair and makeup and threw on her favourite heels.

She went downstairs, walking past her brothers and his friends.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jordan asked.

“Out.” Y/n responded, eager to leave the house.

“I can see that, where are you going?”

“Chin Tiki. With Carly. I'll be back soon.”

“Well, we're about to leave for Chin Tiki too. Can you clean the living room?”

“No, you and your friends can clean. It's your mess, not mine.”

“Damn Jordan, your sister's finally started to talk back.” Future said.

The guys all laughed at Future's remark. She glared at him. She was never really fond of Future, or any of her brother's friends to be exact.

“I don't care Jordan, I'm not cleaning.”

Jordan slowly started getting out his seat and heading towards the front door. “Too bad, because we're already leaving.”

His friends followed him out the door quickly, also eager to get out. Y/n groaned, muttering something under her breath as she picked up the empty beer cans.

“Hey do you need any help?” A voice asked.

Y/n looked up and saw one of Jordan's friends, standing by the door awkwardly. He was wearing a dark blue beanie and dark baggy clothes.

“Oh, it's fine. Don't worry. You can get going.”

“Nah, it's fine. I'll help.”

He started picking up the empty cans on the floor and throwing them into the bin.

“Uh, Jimmy, right?” Y/n asked.

“That's me, but people call me Rabbit. You're Y/n, right?”

She nodded. “Thanks again… you didn't need to help.”

“It's fine. Like you said, it's our mess. Not yours.”

“Thank you.”

They finished cleaning up and left the house.

“Do you need a ride? We're getting in Future's car, we can budge up for you.” Rabbit asked.

“I'll be fine. I've walked to the bar by myself at night many times and made it in one piece.” She smiled.

He chuckled. “Alright then.”

Y/n eventually made it to Chin Tiki, where she saw Carly. Radiant and beautiful as always. She hugged her tightly before they ordered a few drinks and took their seats.

“Hey isn't that Jordan and his friends?” Carly asked. She nodded over to the table where Jordan and his friends were sitting with a few girls.

Y/n turned to look, herself. “Oh yeah.” She saw Rabbit sitting at the table looking unfazed as he sipped his water.

“Who caught your eye?” Carly asked.

“Hm?” Y/n asked.

“You were staring at one of your brother's friends. Who?”

“No one.”

Carly nudged her friend’s arm. “Stop lying.”

“I'm not lying!” Y/n chuckled.

“You're doing that thing with your eyebrows when you lie. Tell me the truth.”

“Okay, there's this one guy-”

“I knew it!”

“I don't like him like that. He just helped me clean the living room instead of letting me suffer in silence.”

“Well that's sweet of him. And what am I talking about, you don't need to focus on guys right now. You've got a modelling career lined up for you.”

Y/n chuckled. “Thanks girl. Should we head out after a few minutes?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Around 30 minutes later, the girls both left the bar and went outside through the back where the car park was. Whilst walking, they both spotted Rabbit sitting on the hood of the car listening to music on his headphones.

“I know you don't like him like that, but just go to him. What's the harm?” Carly said.

“Okay. I'll just say hi and come back.” Y/n replied.

She approached Rabbit and sat next to him on the hood. He took off his headphones and smiled at her softly.

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“Just wanted to say hi.” She replied. “What are you listening to?”

“Oh, uh. Just some rap.”

“Cool. Do you also wanna be a rapper like everyone else here?”

“Yeah, matter of fact, I do. You?”

“I wanna be a model.”

“Yeah? That's cool I guess.”

“Mhm. I haven't been able to find many places for me to apply yet. So I'm just stuck working at some small diner.”

“I've got a demo with my guy Wink lined up. He's gonna help me. I rap at the shelter too, but last night didn't go too well though. I uh-”

“I know. My brother told me. Which is surprising, he never tells me anything.”

“Why's that?”

“Well-”

“What are you two up to?” A voice interrupted.

Y/n looked up and saw Jordan with his friends, also accompanied by another guy who she recognised as Wink.

She quickly got off the hood of the car as her brother and his friends approached closer.

“What are you doing?” Jordan asked.

“Just talking to him.” Y/n replied.

“Hey Rabbit, we're all going over to my house right now.” Wink said.

“What about your mum? Is she not home?” Rabbit asked.

“Nah. She's working nights now.” Wink smiled at me. “You can come too if you want.”

“Absolutely not.” Jordan butted in. “She's got work tomorrow.”

“Man, we all got work tomorrow, just let her have it.” Wink replied.

“Fine.”

“Can Carly come too?” Y/n asked.

“The more the merrier.” Wink replied.

Y/n thanked him before going to get Carly. She was quick to say yes, she was always up to go anywhere as long as her friend was always with her.

“Is it okay if you guys can give us a ride?” Y/n asked the guys.

They were bunched up in the car like sardines in a can. They were all laughing together about whatnot and having a blast.

“So why do they call you Rabbit?” Y/n asked.

“Cause he's fast and likes to fuck a lot.” Future laughed.

Everyone laughed at Future's response.

“All jokes aside, he's super talented. He's rapping next week at the shelter on Friday if you wanna see him ladies.” Future said.

“Maybe I'll come watch if I have time.” Y/n responded.

They eventually reached Wink's house and got out of the car quickly, feeling a quick relief of air after being crowded in the car.

Y/n and Carly walked with Wink as he led them to his house, the boys were trailing behind.

“Man, I can't rap next week. I have work.” Rabbit told Future.

“You'll go if she's there.” Future responded hinting to Y/n. He made sure he was quiet so Jordan couldn't hear.

“She's cute, but I don't like her like that. I don't think she's interested in me either. Plus, I think I wanna have a break from dating after Janeane.”

“Alright, fair enough. But try coming next week, okay? Forget last night. You're gonna do great.”

Everyone was having a good time at Wink's place. Y/n and Carly danced together and laughed with each other, it felt good for her to feel free for a while and not feel this immense weight on her shoulders.

Meanwhile Rabbit, Jordan and Future were lounging on the couch, taking a rest.

“Fucking Wink, man.” Future replied. “I hate him. Tryna act like the big guy around here.”

“Me too. Are you sure about this free demo thing with Wink, Rabbit?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah. He's gonna help me out, guys. What's the big deal?”

“Free comes with dick up your ass.”

Meanwhile, Iz started complaining about something to Cheddar and a few girls.

“Another example of people's needs being denied by the city. I don't understand why the media's not all over it. Matter of time before it all happens again and the city won't care.” Iz complained.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Rabbit asked.

Cheddar turned to face Rabbit. “That abandoned house where that little girl got raped.”

“It's what you call an “Attractive Nuisance.” Iz said. “If that house was on the other side of 8 mile, it wouldn't still be standing.”

“It could've been Lily, Rabbit.” Cheddar said.

Rabbit glanced over at Future and Jordan. Then at Sol who was across the room. They all gave each other a knowing smirk.

“Burn this shit to the ground!” Future whooped as he poured gasoline over the abandoned house.

Y/n and Carly were outside by the car, talking to Jordan.

“Can we come too?” Y/n asked.

“Hell no! It is too dangerous for you and Carly. You two can stay out here.”

“We're not babies Jordan.”

“Be grateful I even let you be here. Otherwise, I would've sent you home.”

“And aren't you going?” Y/n retaliated.

“Yeah but it's fine for me.” Jordan replied before grabbing a can of gasoline and making his way to the house.

“He's so annoying.” Y/n said.

“He's just trying to protect you.” Carly said. “It's cute.”

Y/n gave Carly a look. “You gonna go after my brother now?”

“No, I was just saying it's sweet of him. Plus, I think Wink's pretty cute. He was looking at me earlier.”

“Well then go shoot your shot. Look, he's just standing there. Go!” Y/n nudged Carly forward.

“Okay, I'm going!” Carly chuckled as she went over to Wink and started making a conversation with him.

A minute or two passed when all of a sudden, the house erupted into flames. It was a blazing firestorm, brightening the dark night sky.

Rabbit appeared from the back and saw Y/n leaning against the car as she admired the burning house. He approached her with a soft smile.

“It's almost beautiful, isn't it?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah. Piece of shit should burn to the ground.” Rabbit replied.

Y/n chuckled. “I wanted to go in. My stupid brother wouldn't let me.”

“He's just trying to make sure you're safe.”

“Yeah, but sometimes it's annoying. He has to make sure he knows what I'm doing all the time. You know how earlier at Chin Tiki I said that he never tells me anything anymore? Well ever since mum died, he's just been so different. He's so secretive and moody but he can't let me be secretive.”

“I get that it can be annoying but, he's doing it because he doesn't wanna lose you too.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

“He did?”

“He said to me one night when we went out that he wanted to make sure you lived a good life. He said he knew he was being strict but he told me did it because he didn't want to lose you. You guys only have each other.”

“I guess…”

“And sometimes Future says something about you. Like he'll say you're hot and that he wants you and then Jordan gets absolutely pissed. If we weren't there to hold him back, Future would've been a dead man.”

Y/n chuckled. “That sounds like him. You got any siblings?”

“I've got a little sister at home. Lily. She's 7. I'd do anything for her. I love her so much.”

Y/n smiled at Rabbit's caring demeanour for his sister. She noticed how his voice softened when he talked about her, it made her feel content herself.

Sooner or later, everybody got home, managing to escape from the cops just in time.

Y/n and Jordan got home and immediately got hit with the stench of the weed that still lingered in the house.

“Did you not use Air freshener?” Jordan asked.

“I did. Didn't have much time.” Y/n responded.

“Right…” Jordan replied.

“Look, if you don't want the house to be messy and smell then just change the hangout place!”

“You know what? Fine. I'll ask. Only because you weren't so annoying today.

Y/n scoffed as retreated to her room and got changed out of her clothes. She was starting to consider that what Rabbit said about Jordan might've been a lie just to make her feel better.

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