#maybe like .. playing Together but not With Each Other

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAKE HER REGRET IT

A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.

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It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago. 

You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child. 

Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles. 

It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor. 

“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks. 

“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent. 

Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason. 

You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe. 

When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much. 

The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression. 

“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts. 

Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him. 

“What’s up?”

“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”

Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside. 

“Do tell me.”

Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter. 

“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”

“When will the part where I can help come?”

“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”

You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him. 

“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”

The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much. 

“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”

“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing. 

“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”

“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide. 

“Y-You will do it?”

“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell. 

When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever. 

“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”

“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.

“Sorry, yeah come inside.”

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with. 

“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”

“I have.”

“Really?”

“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”

“Then… I trust you with anything.”

“What’s the goal?”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind. 

“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”

“I want to make her regret it.”

“Regret what she said?”

“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises. 

“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly. 

At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation. 

And then the bell rings. 

“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again. 

You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you. 

“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up. 

“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable. 

“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”

Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well. 

“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it. 

“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”

“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”

“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues. 

“That’s none of my business.”

“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”

“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.

Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here. 

“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.

“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”

“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”

It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature. 

“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”

She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her. 

And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts. 

“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.

“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”

“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”

“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything. 

You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost. 

“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move. 

Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily. 

It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss. 

It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses. 

And then you remember you’re not alone. 

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it. 

“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.

“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly. 

Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned. 

“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you. 

Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.

“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”

The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his. 

Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like. 

“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast. 

“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door. 

“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”

He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 

The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit. 

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars. 

You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before. 

You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone. 

You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is. 

“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining. 

Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time. 

When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing. 

“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”

“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly. 

“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.

“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before. 

“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.

“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now. 

“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard. 

There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work. 

“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words. 

“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge. 

Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you. 

“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”

You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair. 

When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble. 

Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes. 

“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”

Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss. 

“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”

“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

[jessiethewitchzard]

Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

#aj oc #dungeons and dragons #D&D #ttrpg

[itaipava]

— forms of non-sexual intimacy with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

kind of intimacy where you guys do things together that lead to inside jokes and private memories; a beautiful feeling of closeness that comes from working in unison. sometimes it's so subtle and unexpected, it's like the two of you lose your way going somewhere the two of you have never been and one is responsible for the driving and the other for the navigation. maybe a bit of a fight here and there, but both  still working together to reach your destination and knowing you’re never really lost as long as the other is around.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

kind of intimacy where actions speak louder than words. making - or at least trying - each other's lives a little easier, a little lighter, a little smoother, a little prettier, and a little more bearable. having breakfast ready so you don't forget it when you're in a hurry. wash and dry dishes together after dinner. leaving little love notes in your things to make you smile. the little things he would do only for those he is really close to.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

his favorite form of intimacy is where the two of you give each other undivided and unique attention when you're together; being as busy as he is and having a lot to think about, there's something so beautiful and comforting about focusing on just one person: you. that means ignoring notifications and anything that bothers him aside when he's with you. leaving certain places earlier to spend more time with you. looking adoringly into each other's eyes at random moments where you can swear there are only the two of you in the world.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

distracted physical touches, usually out of habit. when you are watching tv; he reaches out and strokes your hair, plays with your earlobes, or nudges you gently with his foot. and even when you are in public or with other people, he finds himself playing with your hands, your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm or the back of your hand with his thumb, all while casually conversing with another person.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

bathing together; the form of intimacy in which you fully discover yourself and can appreciate every physical aspect while sharing a genuine and loving atmosphere. him gently washing your body with care and delicacy, as if he had all the time in the world to discover every little universe hidden in your body; he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he washes your hair, which makes you smile because together with the little ripples of hot water they tickle your skin. being totally comfortable in each other's presence is what he's always wanted for the two of you since the beginning, and seeing your love growing every day makes his heart race with happiness in his chest.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the form of intimacy that grows on common interests and activities. for him, there's nothing quite like coming together because of a mutual love for a particular tv show, or during an animated monopoly game or mobile games, or an underrated book. thinking about each other whenever see or hear about it. simple but precious memories resulting from losing sleep because you were too excited at that show or playing together all night.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

the kind of intimacy that only grows and flourishes with time, the true meaning of “making life” together. the kind where the two of you help each other grow in every aspect of life; supporting and rooting for each other's victory but also being there and taking care of each other in defeats. it's when you start to know each other's thoughts, times and patterns as if there is an invisible bond that grows each day between the two of you; like it always connects the two of you even when you're not physically together. it's the form of intimacy where you only know and understand each other on a very deep level.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

a kind of pure, genuine intimacy that encourages each other; listen to each other's dreams, fears, stories and secrets without judgment and show that no matter what, you will be there for each other. always cheering and supporting each other's hobbies, which always makes your heart warm to remember that someone is genuinely rooting for you and that even if you fail, that person will not give up on you.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #george russell x reader #george russell x you #george russell fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #liam lawson x reader #liam lawson imagine #liam lawson fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

[ilovejoostklein]

hii, a little request. could we get sum eurovision singer!reader with joost?? maybe after their endless flirting they end up having a one night stand in their hotel room😵‍💫 and after eurovision ends reader is caught by some fans attending joost’s concert in vancouver or they are seen attending a club together and being all cozy😫 sorry if it’s to much, feel free to decline🫶🏻

i got you! 💙

-

Little Stars

You’re Joost’s favorite girl at Eurovision

nsfw: smut, some fluff

-

The entire competition served more as an ego boost than as a popularity boost to your career. You were always an extrovert. As a child, you always got the same cliché comments that you’d either be a great lawyer or a performer, and you decided to choose the option that wouldn’t cause you to have a lifetime of boredom. It certainly helped that your parents stuck you in every extracurricular activity, dance, gymnastics, volleyball, to have an outlet for your energy and love for being the center of attention.

You’d discovered your singing talents from your father, who was an amateur singer. On weekend mornings, when the morning dew would still be on the plants, pale golden sunlight illuminating the streets of your city you’d rush down the stairs to join him when you heard the gentle strumming of his guitar with the song of the morning birds. 

You two would sing a song together, the neighbors always taking a moment to listen from the windows or their doorsteps, people walking by smiling at you or taking a moment to talk. Your parents were adamant that you were born to be on stage, your family and neighbors nicknamed you their little star. 

You first gained popularity after posting a few covers on YouTube when you were a teenager. It wasn’t much in terms of internet fame, a couple of thousand followers, and your most popular video getting a little over 100,000 views but it was surreal to you at the time. You always stuck to ballads, your voice strong and from your high stamina, you could belt out notes that lasted miles. It wasn’t until you showcased your dancing talents that your popularity seemed to ignite. 

At first, it scared you a bit, but the attention was overwhelmingly positive besides the few comments from older people in your country who damned the youth and their nerve to have fun. You realized that your singing could only take you so far, millions of other people had nice voices, but few could captivate an audience like you with your stage presence. Before you knew it, you had enough money to hire a manager and move yourself and your parents to a nicer part of town. Your name spread across parts of Europe, and you became somewhat of a celebrity, selling out small venues and playing a few festivals. 

You came from truly humble beginnings, and you suspected that was why so many audiences connected with and favored you, and a large reason why your application to Eurovision to represent your country was accepted. You were beautiful, incredibly talented, and had a larger-than-life charisma. In interviews and press conferences, it was the best thing, especially in the unique and rather tense climate of this year’s competition, but backstage was a completely different person. 

You quickly gave yourself a reputation of being a flirt. You wore skimpy, bright outfits adorned with glitter and rhinestones with every practice and rehearsal. When you weren’t about to perform, you still wore mini skirts and the tiniest top imaginable. You walked around with your body practically on full display, some parts of your skin being hardly covered with fishnets or tights. You lived up to your nickname as being a star, the other contestants hearing it from your parents, but being grown up and leaning into your sensuality you were more like Venus now, your presence scorching, bright, and exigent. 

Beside you in the sky of stars was Joost. If you had been a little star, he was the sun itself. You two had taken a liking to each other almost immediately and nearly became attached at the hip. It was far from platonic, but you found yourself amused at how you two could be able to flirt with each other so shamelessly and without constraint without doing more than hugging. 

“Hi, baby.” You greeted him in one of the lounge areas for breakfast. It became an inside joke between you to constantly use silly pet names. It was very early morning, and the sun and blue skies were hardly present. “Can I sit with you this morning?” You smiled. 

“You already know the answer, honey.” He smiled back. You loved how his smile would take up his entire face, you felt you could never get tired of looking at it. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.” 

It was the day of the rehearsal before the finale, and the nerves hadn’t quite gotten to you yet. You nodded, watching as he fixed your plate with your usual breakfast order that he picked up. It was a sweet gesture that warmed your heart, you were beyond thankful to have someone who took you into their arms the way that Joost had. 

You two sat down together at a corner table. You watched as sunlight blanketed his features. It reflected into the ridge of his nose and illuminated his eyes, you found yourself staring into them, never seeing eyes that reminded you of the crystal blue waters of the beach you grew up by.

“Your eye contact scares me.” He chuckled, the direct comment making you feel your heart drop to your feet. “It’s ok, gives me an excuse to look at you.”

“You have nice eyes.” You said, ripping a piece of your croissant that Joost had fried in the microwave, despite you asking it to be lightly warmed. “This is super cold, by the way.” You said, pushing the first piece into his mouth. 

The bread burned his tongue a bit, but he was able to ignore the pain when he felt your fingers in his mouth. He bravely ran his tongue over the pads of your fingers, sucking down gently all while keeping his eyes set on you. You were speechless for a moment, seeing and feeling his sinfully pink tongue on your fingers before you were able to pull away. 

“You drooled on me.” You looked down at your hand, seeing there were still crumbs on your fingers, and pushed them into your mouth. You watched Joost’s eyebrows raise as he stiffened in his seat, feeling himself getting far so excited so early in the morning. 

You tasted him in your mouth, the sickeningly sweet syrup from his waffles and the bitterness from his coffee. “There’s crumbs on my fingers.” You said, “You don’t lick your fingers to get food off?” 

“No,” He spoke, his tone a bit hushed, “I like to lick my fingers.” 

You blushed at his comment, always catching the innuendo but never pushing it further. The two of you sat in silence for a moment to let the tension cool, as you always did when it became too unbearable. 

“You’re the only performer who changes your outfits.” Joost was always the first to break the silence. “How short will your skirt be tonight?” 

You laughed, “Shorter than last night.” You answered, his dimples giving away his amusement. “Your outfit is one of my favorites though.” 

“Ah.” He said happily, “What do you like about it?”

“The color is nice.” You complimented, seeing in his face how much he loved the attention. “Is it hard to take off?”

He withdrew a bit, smiling knowingly but deciding to beat around the bush as you two formed a habit of doing. “Not really.” He said. “It’s very easy, I don’t need any help at all.” His answer was excruciating.

You rolled your eyes, “Well, I need a lot of help with mine.” You began, “There’s so many hooks and zippers, it’s so annoying.”

Joost hummed in absentminded agreement. You saw on the vacant expression on his face, and how he went back to eating his breakfast that you’d give him too vivid of a picture. All he could imagine now was being alone with you in the dressing room, undoing all the hooks and zippers you were talking about. He’d want to rip apart those fishnet stockings you always wore, the thought of seeing the gentle threads snap apart from his hands revealing your soft skin drove him wild. The imagery became too much eventually, and he felt a bit of shame when he saw your gentle, unknowing face across him. 

“You know you’re gonna win, right?” You said suddenly, making his expression drop into something deathly serious.

“It would be nice.” He mumbled nervously, his nerves entangling themselves together even tighter than before. “You think so?”

“No, Joost.” You glanced at the clock on your phone, realizing you’d spent too much time at breakfast. “I said I know you’re doing to win.” 

The night of the semi-final had solidified Joost’s obsession with you, but he realized he was in a long line of admirers. It was like he was in a trance, your voice like a siren’s, and the way your outfit glittered and reflected onto the bright light, it was surreal. He wanted to congratulate you after, but he saw that a crowd had already formed around you, specifically that the Croatian performer, Baby Lasagne, another favorite, had beaten him to it. 

Joost watched from afar, how you smiled constantly and looked so animated talking to him. His hands grazed your bare arm a few times, and every time it felt like it tugged on his heart in a horrible, unfamiliar sensation. It pained him a bit to know that you were known as a flirt, wondering if the way you looked at him and clung by his side meant anything at all or if it was all a part of some game. 

He saw you again walking down the hall when he felt a tap at his side. He knew it was you immediately, turning around he couldn’t help but bring you into a hug that left your feet dangling as he rambled on about how well you did. 

“Are you kidding?” You said, holding onto his neck before he set you down. “You’re fucking amazing Joost, I loved watching you.”

He scoffed, looking down at you still in your outfit, it was like he was dreaming. He yearned to keep his hands on your waist, but his better senses got the better of him, and his arms returned to his side. 

“I think everyone loved watching you more.” He began, remembering how he had to watch another man try to charm you the way he’d been for the past few days. “I don’t have people crowding me after I perform.”

You raised your eyebrows, remembering how the Croatian performer came up to you to talk you up, offering to take you for a drink and inviting him back into his room, an offer that you left to a ‘maybe’ just to keep him hanging. You saw Joost at the end of the hallway, now realizing that he didn’t just happen to be there but he was watching.

“You sound jealous.” You teased, seeing a blush begin on his face, like red wine spilling on pristine sheets. “Anyways, I’ve got to get going.”

Joost hated when you did that, knowing that you had nothing to do but sit in your room, drink obnoxiously expensive liquor, and talk about equally as obnoxious things with your friend. He wished he had it in him to ask to go back with you, but the fear of rejection always struck too hard and quickly for him to take advantage of the moment. 

The day of the finale, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone but Joost that he’d won, and you’d been the runner-up. You didn’t have much of a competitive spirit, the experience of Eurovision alone already felt like a victory in itself. When it was announced that he’d won, you two hugged in front of what felt like a sea of cameras and you were able to sneak a kiss on his cheek before he went up on stage to be awarded. There was far too much commotion directly afterward to see him again, it was physically painful to feel him slipping away from you and realize that this, like all good things, was all finally ending.

Joost found you again in the early hours of the morning, holding flowers at your door dressed down in a simple t-shirt and jeans from his short night out to come to personally congratulate you. He noticed you weren’t at any of the after parties, and even his own which admittedly stung a bit. He had an evening flight the next day, so he could stand to lose a bit of sleep if it meant seeing you one last time. 

You answered the door in a robe, from your exposed skin it seemed like nothing else was underneath. You smiled and laughed to conceal the overwhelming feelings that filled your chest from the gesture.

“You’re so sweet, Joost.” You said as you took the small bouquet from him. “I have some champagne in my room if you want to share, it for the winner.”

Joost felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, freeing him from the torturous game you’d forced him to play as he finally was alone with you. Whether or not he’d leave with anything didn’t matter, he just wanted a moment with you that wasn’t in the halls or the lounges. 

Your room was serene and surprisingly organized, unlike his with bottles piled on the coffee table and clothes all over the couch. The lights were low, and soft music played in the background, by the look of the skincare products on the vanity it seemed that he’d interrupted your bedtime ritual. 

He watched as you poured a sparkling glass of champagne for him, clinking your glasses together before taking a sip. It was a bit sweet for his liking, but it made sense if it was coming from you. He knew you were the type to overindulge, like a child of Dionysus you lived for worldly pleasures and your enjoyment alone. He wondered if he would be a part of those pleasures if you’d fall into him like you did your other vices. 

“I’m going to spend a little bit more time here.” You said, “I’ve never been to Sweden before.” 

Joost nodded, knowing that you came from a small city and that all this travel was probably the best thing in the world for you. “I leave tomorrow.” His tone was a bit disappointed. “I would’ve liked to stay a little longer though.”

You hummed in agreement, “So,” You began, setting down the half-finished glass of your drink. “You only came to give me flowers?”

He felt his grip tighten on the delicate glass, looking down at you, he noticed that the fabric of the robe had fallen forward a bit, exposing a bit of your naked chest and body. “No.” He confessed, “Just an excuse to see you, the flowers were mine.”

“It’s rude to regift.” He hated your teasing, he hated the ever-present sensuality in your voice. “Alright, well, you saw me.”

You watched as Joost’s eyes widened at you, a desperate look on his face from how insufferable you had become. He knew that you had seen right through him this entire time, and he felt that you were now making a mockery of him. Even if he was the one with the dishonest motives, if he was the one staring down your robe, he felt that he was completely naked in front of you.

“You’re too much.” He mumbled, fumbling with the intricate buckle of his belt and swirling the champagne in his cup. “You don’t even come to my fucking party.”

You smiled at him, but not like you had been doing before, “Is that belt bothering you?” You asked before reaching over, your hands gently moving his away. “Let me help you.”

You undid his belt with a bit of a struggle, finally pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor. Joost felt his breath get caught in his throat, looking down at you as you undid the button to his jeans that now felt suffocating and pulled down the zipper. The sound of his clothing coming off echoed in his mind and made him grow rigid. He tried to relax, trying to see you for what you were, someone who was just as crazy for him as he was for you, instead of someone who had the upper hand. 

You couldn’t bear to deny yourself anymore, the tension finally snapping loose as your fingers dipped underneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down in one desperate, fluid motion. Joost began to step away so that he’d be able to sit down on the chair across from you, his pants and underwear pooling at his ankles as you followed shamelessly. 

You mused at his size, wrapping your hand around the base you couldn’t help but take it all in. Joost was pretty, all of him was so fucking pretty. His dick looked perfect in your hands, just big enough that you knew it would hurt and prove itself to be a challenge that you were eager to take on. His skin radiated warmth, it was softer than any other man you’d touched. You nearly salivated the longer you pumped him in your hand, drawing out soft groans before you finally took him into your mouth. 

It was as if you were a groupie how enthusiastic and sloppy you were. He watched through half-lidded eyes as you took all you could, your hands pumping at the base of what you struggled to fit. Your tongue was sinful, swirling around his shaft and sensitive tip, sucking him off so well he began to lose all rationality, wondering how crazy it would be if he asked you to be his girlfriend after all of this. 

Joost grabbed the glass of champagne and began drinking again, the rush of sweetness on his tongue paired with getting head from his new favorite girl was heavenly. His ego had completely taken over, he was a winner and deserved to feel like it. He wanted to have you for as long as he could. He didn’t want to finish like this, so he poured himself another glass and pulled your head away gently so that you’d face him. 

“Kiss it.” He said, the glass sparkling and bubbling alongside his eyes that now were drowned out by his pupils. “Look at me while you do it.”

Your body grew numb at his request, seeing him rip the control that you once had as he sat in your room, drinking your champagne with his fingers tangled in your hair telling him to kiss his dick for him. He knew you liked to put on a show, using it to his advantage he watched from above, glass to his lips before you listened. 

You felt passionate desire pour out of you as you mindlessly kissed and licked on his dick. You pressed sloppy, wet kisses all over, sucking down gently on the tip as he watched quietly, suppressing his moans and taking sips of his drink. The only sounds were coming from you, you moaned from the pleasure it gave you to be touching him, and how much you loved the feeling of your saliva and his pre cum dripping all over your face. 

Your lips were plush and greedy against him, the sight itself better than the sensation. When he’d finally had enough, he pulled you up so that you’d be sitting on his lap, your face was a bit too messy, so he took a makeup wipe from your vanity and gently cleaned your face. 

“Here,” Joost offered the last sip of champagne from his glass, “Wash your mouth.”

He pressed the cool glass to your lips and watched as you drank until there was nothing left. He finally pulled you into an impatient kiss, but it was much softer than you expected. He kissed you tenderly, his arms holding your body taut, so much that you felt his heartbeat against yours. You could tell even if this was all unintended and in the heat of the moment, the feelings you shared underneath were all genuine. 

You held his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms. You wished you could stay like that forever, but the ache in between your legs would never allow you. You lowered one hand so that you could untie the knot on your silky robe and let it fall off your shoulders. Joost felt the shift in the fabric and moved one hand up to cup your breast and squeezed down, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 

He left a trail of kisses on your neck, sucking down on the sensitive skin before leaving a mark right below your ear so that he’d give you something to remember him properly. It was crimson, deep, and loving, you wished that he’d even left more. You loved the feeling, and you let him know with the way you squirmed in his thigh and whined with every kiss. 

As much as he enjoyed moving slowly, the time was passing by too quickly and he was animalistic in his desire to fuck you. It felt as if he’d been putting out for a lifetime, his better judgment was non-existent. He paid just enough attention to your breasts, he’d hate to neglect something so perfect, kissing them lovingly, before kissing down your stomach down to your thighs.

Joost kissed in between your thighs slowly. His lips lingered too closely to where they should’ve been teasing you to the point it felt cruel. As you watched his languid motions, how much intention and care he put into every touch, you could tell how crazy he was for you, how your flirting had driven him to this madness. Your hand ran through his hair as he continued to press soft kisses against your skin, making him look up at you with a pleading expression, 

“Can I?” He asked in a strained whisper, you blushed a bit seeing him soften so much and ask the most obvious question. 

“Please.” You could hardly speak seeing him like that, he was unrecognizable from the man you’d known before. “I’m yours.”

He wondered if you could peer into his mind into his deepest desires. Joost ate you out as his thoughts raced, somehow without the overt focus it felt so much more natural and perfect for you. He was operating on pure instinct now, his mind elsewhere, thinking ahead to when he’d get to fuck you as his mouth preoccupied itself. He moaned against you, his warm tongue lapping against your clit desperately. The sounds you made only made him more determined, so much so that he couldn’t feel the ache in his jaw and weakness in his tongue. 

His thoughts then floated to the image of when he’d make you cum. The taste of you was addicting, better than an ice-cold shot of his favorite liquor and the first cigarette out of a fresh box. The taste of you dripped down his chin like biting into an overly ripe peach, messy, sticky but inexplicably perfect. He kept your trembling thighs apart with his strong hands, like the skin of a fruit as delicate as a peach he was careful not to hurt you, but you seemed to become more beautifully vocal when his fingers would dig down into your flesh. 

“I’m close.” You mumbled, not wanting to lose your high, the feeling of your orgasm building steadily in the bottom of your stomach. “Please don’t stop Joost.”

He forced himself to listen, if time wasn’t against him he would’ve edged you to the point of tears until you would be coming undone, ripping at the seams for a well-deserved orgasm rather than one so easily given. His soft lips pressed down on your clit, sucking down gently he knew you weren’t going to last too long, but just to make sure he traced your entrance with two long fingers and  fucked your desperate, soaked pussy. 

You lost yourself in the bliss that washed over you. You’d never felt anything quite like it, it was ecstasy in its purest form. He fucked you through it, gentle whispers guiding you back to reality as you clenched and writhed against his hand to ride out your orgasm. 

“That’s it, dotje.” His voice was so delicate and comforting against the intensity that overcame your senses. “I’ve got you.”

You felt tears in your eyes from how tightly they’d been shut. Looking down as the feeling subsided into a nearly sedated, dreamy sensation you watched as Joost withdrew his hand from you. Wincing at the loss of his fingers, desperately needing something inside of you again you watched as his two fingers, completely drenched in your slick arousal went into his mouth. 

You wished you had it in you to tease him and remind him about the time you’d had breakfast together, but it was all a distant, meaningless memory now. You were entranced watching him lick his fingers clean, he stared you down as he did it, his tongue swirling around to taste every last bit of you. 

“You taste so good.” His voice too was unrecognizable, his lust for you so apparent that you found yourself feeling much more bare than just in the literal sense. “Open your mouth.”

His fingers were warm, you’d finally returned the favor and sucked down to taste yourself like he wanted. After he was satisfied, he wiped his hand against his torso carelessly, reaching into the pocket of his jeans that were tossed on the floor to pull out his wallet. He always kept condoms, although he hadn’t acclimated himself to a rock star lifestyle yet he was glad that he’d made a habit of always carrying some.

“Can I go on top?” You asked sweetly, only for him to shake his head with a smile. 

“No.” He said plainly, tearing open the holographic packaging. “I want to be romantic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Joost made you feel at ease, he was undoubtedly a special person who would always have a small piece of your heart. You wished that he didn’t make you feel so warm inside, a fling and one nightstand should’ve made you feel nothing but lust. 

Even if he had been joking, it had been romantic. He laid atop of you, kissing you just slow and deep as he fucked you. He filled you up so perfectly that you could do nothing but hold him close and moan into the never-ending kiss. You tensed a bit at first, but he was gentle, touching you sweetly to relax your body so that he could bottom you out. 

Joost lasted a bit longer than you anticipated, you even grew a bit sore from how much he stretched you out and your body soon became weighed down with a drunken feeling. The champagne had long worn off, but nothing was comparable to getting fucked by such a man who wasn’t only gorgeous, but completely on top of the world. 

It made you feel a bit shallow, wrapping your legs around him as he began to kiss your neck to give your lips a break. You tugged on the longer part of his hair possessively, eliciting a low groan from him. Just like you’d boosted his ego, he was now doing the same for you. Even if you didn’t win the competition, you’d have the person who did wrapped around your finger. 

He came inside you without any verbal warning, but his body gave him away. You felt entranced by it, the way he panted and moaned Dutch praises tangled with English ones. His cock twitched when he finished, a bit disappointed you couldn’t enjoy it fully and all you felt was the warmth. 

What followed was a bit disappointing. Your head was a wreck for the days after, thinking of how Joost left in the later morning hours after spending what was left of the night cuddling with you. Your remaining time in Sweden was beautiful with your friend, but you’d promised to fly back to Vancouver to see her family so that they could give you proper congratulations. 

You’d confided to your friend on a drunken night in Stockholm about your night with Joost, which failed to surprise her. As you lay in the living room of her parent's house, watching her nieces and nephews play and talk your ear off about Eurovision you noticed her running into the house. 

“Check your phone.” She was far too excited, making you nervously take your phone from the coffee table. “Hurry!”

You looked at her messages to see tickets to a festival, looking at the line your heart nearly sank at seeing Joost’s name. You were silent for a while, your face still and statuesque you’d unintentionally offended your friend. 

“Uh,” She began leaning down to look at you. “Do you not want to go or something?”

You shook your head, “Of course I do.” You said quietly, not wanting the kids to butt into the conversation. “I just hope I can see him, not just watch.”

You certainly got what you wanted. After watching the show, it felt like you’d been falling in love for a second time with the way he performed. You loved seeing him get to see him being himself without constraint, even if he was completely out of his element in Canada he was too charming for anyone not to like him. 

You found Joost after his show, not needing to say anything, your arms wrapping around his torso as you two stood behind the stage as the next performer went on. You realized you were still in the open for everyone to see, but even if you noticed groups of people slowing down to stare at you two you hadn’t cared.

“There are people taking pictures.” He whispered, nodding over to one of the passing groups, presumably Eurovision fans. 

You shook your head, cupping his face for what felt like the last time as the sun-kissed all his features for you. You didn’t want to do anything else but admire him for as long as you could. 

#joost klein #joost #fanfic #smut #fluff #eurovision #europapa #joost x reader #fem reader

[transmascaraa]

hi! guess who's returned after finally graduating :)

can i request a drabble where our bsf (lyney/wanderer/gaming) goes to prom with us + slow dances with us? maybe a little confession too..

i sincerely apologize if you've already done a fic like this already! i haven't opened tumblr for a while now—

— 🧷anon (p.s. how are you :0?)

multiple characters headcannons!

prom confession.

characters: lyney, gaming, wanderer, xiao x gn!reader

author's note: added xiao js because🤷‍♂️ ANYWAYS congrats on your graduation!! mine is like the 14th of june so i still have a bit left but yeah! i've been alright these last few days i guess, nothing special going on really lol i hope you've been well too :p also the only SIMILAR thing i did was this with gaming, but it isn't exactly like what i'm gonna write now lmao so i hope you enjoy these hcs^^

☆ Lyney

-lyney, as your bsf, is like a really trustworthy and loyal one, PLUS interesting af

-and as you HAD to have a dance partner at prom, you chose him because he was the only safe option, really.

-you asked him if he wanted to dance with you and he was a bit surprised at first but agreed after a bit. SO the music started, and you started dancing together.

-y'know, that waltz dance pose.

-and it was peaceful enough for lyney to be honest with you about something.

-he didn't care about your answer anymore, he just had to get it off his chest

-no more "magician lyney", no more "fatuus lyney".

-just "lyney".

-so when there was a pause in the music, he pulled you closer and whispered in your ear:

-"want to try and be lovers?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✷ Gaming

-like any time, any day.

-he was also a very good bsf, definitely always something interesting to hear from him

-AND it's entertaining to spend time with him in the first place lol

-so being that close, you decided to dance together for prom since neither of you had another choice.

-and he put one of his hands on your waist, and the other intertwined with yours, as you started dancing together.

-peaceful as well.

-adoring each others presence in the moment.

-sharing a few compliments here and there, making eachother giggle and smile and blush

-when nobody was looking, and nobody could hear either of you—

-"i love you." you both said at the same time.

-it was awkward, but it worked out just fine^^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Wanderer

-uh kinda difficult to become friends at first lmfao

-but you definitely manage to do it after a while and even become bsfs

-and like originally he wanted to go to prom alone

-but he felt bad for you just standing in the corner while everyone else danced with others so he just kinda dragged you to dance

-no words exchanged, only his embarrassed face not wanting to look at you directly.

-his heart was racing and he was doing his best to not fuck up the dance

-not until you pulled him closer and smiled warmly at him.

-he was flustered, but still looking you in the eyes, despite wanting to seem unbothered and uninterested.

-you kissed him on the cheek while whispering:

-"do you want to be more than friends?" to which he embarrassedly nodded, not keeping any eye-contact with you after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Xiao

-so uh you'd HAVE to be the one trying to become friends with him at first (but it kinda js works out even tho it's difficult since he doesn't understand mortals)

-although, with your help, he understands humans AT LEAST a BIT more than he used to.

-he went with you to prom because you had told him that you have nobody to dance with, so you decided to ask him.

-he didn't really get the concept of prom but he did it anyway.

-of course, while you were dancing with the music playing in the background, he felt a lot more open.

-so he started telling you in detail about how he felt about you. he didn't know it was love.

-he told you about how pretty/handsome/fabolous you were in his eyes, how he wished to spend all his life AND afterlife with you, how important you were to him and that he'd protect you if he had to—

-"i love you too, xiao." and he didn't know how to function properly after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yes

just yes i love it

it was really interesting to write ngl i had such beautiful scenarios in my head smh

| 🧷anon | @mariaace <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you #lyney #gaming #wanderer #scaramouche #xiao #genshin x reader #genshin x you #· nyx's genshin hcs *⁠.⁠✧

[itstheghostofmypast]

His Little Cowboy

(College AU) Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: It turns out that beards aren't as bad as misinterpreting a text, especially when you want to introduce your lover to your friends. Or maybe don't plan on doing that in a themed college party?

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Word Count: 2.8K

Est. Read Time: 15 min

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Rating: PG-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Linked With: 22.59

A/N: Shout out to @yessa-vie straight up digging up the cowboy pics for me. The number of times I listened to this song- @edenesth , is to be blamed.

Moving past the sweaty bodies she groaned, inwardly grimacing at the stench of alcohol, cheap perfume and oh god please don't let that be puke. This is not how she wanted to spend her weekend, but ever since that dinner where the two had confessed to each other, San had been persistent about them making a public appearance together, slight problem though- he was popular, Mr. Charming, Mr. Optimism, Mr- WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE!?

With a scoff she jumped over some knocked-out dude, really leave it to Choi San to call her to a party and then not answer his phone- even so, he had wanted her to meet his friends, a very...very intimidating group of loud, popular, good looking guys, truth be told most of them already were in a relationship, which would explain why San was more persistent in giving them an official label, not that she would mind that, she loved him unconditionally, a feeling that had blossomed ever so slowly but hit her like a truck once it began to flow over, which is why...she had agreed to this stupid idea...which is why she had agreed to this...to coming here...to wearing such an outfit. 

Standing on her toes she tried to spot her lover, who was supposed to be dressed as a cowboy in black; leave it to college parties to have the weirdest theme- it wasn't even Wild West, well, it was, but they called it 'Outlaw themed'. The theme itself was off-putting due to several historical events but who was she to say no when he had asked her so politely, so quietly, with his face buried in the crook of her neck in the late hours of the night as her fingers played with his short locks, humming when he mumbled against her skin, squeezing her closer as he asked her to attend this party with him, he'd even tell her what to wear, which was odd for when she had read the text the next morning really did confuse her, but agreed anyway- God her face was so itchy- OH SAN!

"SAN!" She called out, smiling when he turned around, eyes scanning the sea of bodies for her. Waving her arm in the air she walked closer to the man in the black cowboy hat, though his eyes never landed on her, instead, he was still looking around. With a huff she squeezed past a couple and almost tripped, only to collide with his chest- bare chest? Her eyes widened at the man, hands instinctively gripping onto the attire- a cropped leather waistcoat? Staring up at him she licked her chapped lips, tugging on the coat gently as he frowned down at her, why did he look...confused? Was he...upset she actually showed up? To be honest, she didn't have time to divulge her insecurities because the vest was distracting, the tussles were caressing her face and the bandana just made her Sannie look like-

"You lost there, buddy?"

Buddy?

"We thought you were dating someone? What are you collecting little boys for- oh wait the beard means you're a big boy right, partner?" Her head whipped in the direction of the voice, is that Wooyoung? Wait, little boy...my god.

"Sannie! It's me!" She squeaked cupping his face as he stiffened, before she felt him gently squeeze her waist, moving closer to her face before his expression morphed into pure disgust- "What the hell are you supposed to be!?" He whined, ignoring the way Wooyoung had burst out laughing, not stopping when his own partner slapped his shoulder, asking him not to embarrass San and his girlfriend even more.

"Like you said! A cowboy!"

.

They had moved to a quieter area of the house, one with proper lighting and- kitchen, all of them had crowded the kitchen, with her sitting on a counter as San glared at her, arms crossed over his chest.... how could someone look so nice in such poor lighting.

"Well?"

"Huh?" 

"What are you supposed to be?" He asked in a low tone, ignoring how his friends were still snickering behind him. It amazed her how he was still towering over her, like that, kind of making her feel smaller than usual, twiddling her thumbs she mumbled "A cowboy...Sannie...you said let's go as a cowboy couple."

A deep laugh resonated from behind the man as she peaked up to find one of them, Seonghwa, who chuckled when their eyes met, only for him to give her a gentle smile, though she could see the glint in his eyes, a little teasing swirling within his orbs, but the angel, his angel, sitting next to him squeezed his hand, begging him to not make it worse.

"What- I? What!?" He gasped, arms flailing around to emphasize whatever the hell he was trying to say as she shrugged, "I SAID A COWBOY COUPLE!?"

"Yeah, and I am one."

"That usually means a guy and his girl!"

 "You realise the actual number of cowgirls was less, if not nonexistent, and usually they did all the work but got little to no credit. This is exactly why these parties confuse me, are we glorifying misogyny?" She deadpanned, pointing to her fake beard causing him to facepalm, never had he met someone so smart yet so stupid- and to think he loved her? Who's the bigger fool here?

"I love how both of you are majoring in communication but aren't able to communicate with each other."

Her lips quirked downwards at that statement, feeling the weight of it hanging in the air- oh- so he wanted her to dress up like those sexy cowgirls...well he should've just said that! Even though she would want to say no, she would have done it anyway because it was for him. That's when it hit her, he wanted to introduce her to his friends too, and while all their significant others were dressed for the occasion, she looked like a hobo, with her baggy cowboy outfit, giant hat and well...the beard. Shit. This was not good, this was not good at all, she misread the situation again- what kind of girlfriend chooses to look unpresentable? What if he thinks she did this to embarrass him- hell he has every right to be upset with her-

"What?"

The sharp tone of his caused her eyes to flicker up from her lap to his face, gut twisting at the way he had turned back to stare at Wooyoung, his cold glare making the other one let out a nervous chuckle, wait no, he shouldn’t take the anger out on his friend, especially when it is her fault for just assuming what he meant- man this beard was itchy.

“I’m just saying…” Wooyoung shrugged, before looking around at everyone, most of whom were now engaged in talking to each other or on their phones, then back at San, who was still glaring at him. Sure, he wanted them to meet his girlfriend, and sure he was upset that she chose the wrong time to misread the situation, but that did not give anyone the right to humiliate her more than she already had done to herself-

“San-ah…” she whispered, gently nudging his leg with her foot, trying to talk to him, whispering, “I can go back and change…” Nah, she was just gonna dip and not come back, probably telling him how she got abducted by aliens by leaving him a note and disappearing because this was a moment of peak embarrassment-

“Your beard’s really cool, what did you use?”

“Huh?” moving to the right her eyes met a certain blonde man’s- she’d never heard Hongjoong speak before, well that’s because in any class the two shared he’d be sitting quietly at the back, “Oh um…facial glue.”

“Woah, you glued it?” He asked, moving closer to inspect it then hummed, “Dedication.”

“I mean she did fool Sannie here,” Seonghwa added, his angel sitting next to him nodding as she hummed in agreement, “It's an A for effort, I kind of wished I went for something similar.”

“I know right!” the girl who had been glaring at her idiotic boyfriend- the idiot was Wooyoung- for upsetting San added, “I was impressed- we should’ve done this, would’ve been so cool.”

She only smiled at their kind words, a bit upset about how she let him down, but hey, at least they were enjoying it. That was all it took for the awkwardness to fade though, perhaps with the help of the other women involved, the conversation had begun to flow smoothly, each one slowly introducing themselves, most men did constantly talk about the beard, but when it came to Jongho, San’s gym buddy – who she wanted to thank because, lord bless, the way her man had beefed up, she’d make sure Jongho and San never quit being friends- he did point out how “They’re all jealous they can’t grow beards as thick as yours- you pulled it off better than most of them could too.”

The causal chatter thus turned into loud, yet fun banter, her laughter causing San, who had been quietly standing next to her, back leaning against the counter she was sitting on, to look at her, chatting with the rest of them like they had been friends for years. Truth be told he found it amusing, no he loved it, how even at this point, knowing she made a mistake she was honest enough to tell him her opinion, about how she felt about the whole theme parties- communication was never really the problem if you ask him, perhaps it was the intent to make the other happy, that would cause problems, the fear of disappointing the other. No one really said that the girls should come dressed as sexy cowgirls or cowgirls at all, and the effort she had put into the outfit made him realise how this was the first party she had ever attended. He remembers how in the earlier days of their relationship, she had mentioned how she’d never been invited to a party, themed or not, not that she would ever go to one- though he had shushed her and promised to take her to one, but for almost four years she had been avoiding it- well perhaps she said yes, this time because they were an official item now, and not just a fling. That made him feel worse, he had spent 20 minutes of her ‘partying time’, arguing with her over something so stupid. He could only sigh at the way he ended up with someone who was only book smart but an idiot otherwise, someone who was so stubborn yet so caring, someone who would try their best to meet his expectations- even if it meant glueing a beard-

“Ow! San!” she hissed, rubbing her cheek before slapping his hand away, causing everyone else to stop talking and look at their friend, who held a tuft of black synthetic hair pinched between his fingers.

“You okay, dude?” Wooyoung asked as San frowned at the hair and then back at her, mumbling, “My god, this really is glued isn’t it?”

“YAH THINK?” she yelled before snatching the torn piece from his hand as she pouted at it, “What is wrong with you~” she whined only to be cut off by Mingi, who she had learnt was one of the noisiest and nosiest friends, spoke up, “The real question is, is San going to kiss her with the beard on?”

She looked up at him eagerly, batting her eyelashes at him, his eyes widening at the realization of how she was still able to look so cute; this was the exact same look she’d give him every time she knew she was winning, when she knew he’d give into her every whim, the look that would make him feel like he was the most important thing to her in the entire universe- maybe he really was- and for this very reason his head jerked to the side as he broke eye contact, knowing if he kept looking at her for a second longer, maybe he would’ve kissed her right there and then, in front of everyone, even though he knew how public display of affection was not her cup of tea. Even if touch was his love language, he knew she’d bask in it and ask for it behind closed doors, so the kiss right now was more of a way of satisfying the people around them, a way of satisfying him, as if she were trying to make it up to him, for misinterpreting the situation, for which she would choose to come out of her comfort zone just for, just to let him know how much he meant to her- god, he really did love her. The group broke out in laughter, causing San’s face to turn red, almost the same colour as her shirt.

She reached for him, fingertips brushing against his arm, causing him to stand up straight clearing his throat as he mumbled, “I’m gonna get you something to drink, stay with them,” as he left the kitchen, ignoring the ‘boo’s’ he was receiving from his friends- he was desperate to introduce her to his circle of friends, but he also forgot how bloody annoying they could be, teasing him at any moment given, hell they had even made a big deal out of his outfit for today, claiming how he ‘was trying so hard to impress her’, adding the ‘Sannie, you know she likes smart guys- oh wait, no maybe that’s not true since you’re in the picture’.

Sighing he looked at himself in the mirror, why was his face so pink? He had been washing his face for God knows how long, trying to calm down, trying to not think about how now everyone knew about his secret little lover, how they’d steal her attention, how they’d make sure she’d be involved in every activity, which was a good thing, but he was her Sannie! How could be her Sannie with them always around- oh my god, get a grip-did he turn redder? All he did was drink apple juice- shit, he had to get her something to drink!

Slamming open the door he stumbled out only to halt at the sight of the bearded cowboy- oh his bearded cowboy who was frowning up at him, causing him to pout at her, somewhat guilty for leaving her hanging and-

“Is the beard really bothering you this much?”

“No, they’re bothering me.”

“Huh?” she looked up at him as if he had spoken French, “What do you mean? I thought they liked me?”

“They do like you.” He sighed, reaching for her hand as he began to walk towards the nearby terrace, knowing it would be empty since the party was downstairs, sliding open the door he slipped outside pulling her out with him as he made her sit on one of the outdoor chairs, kneeling in front of her on the ground as he held her hands, looking up at her, “I’m afraid they like you so much that I won’t get to be myself around you, you know?” he mumbled before placing her hands on his cheeks, causing her to giggle and squeeze his face.

“Aww, Sannie, you don’t have to worry about that, I’m just glad they don’t think I’m weird.”

“They definitely think you are weird.” He mumbled out, only for her to squish his cheeks harder, leaning down to peck his puckered lips before letting go, though he pulled her back, his hand resting at the back of her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, holding her still as he brushed his lips against hers, “This beard is really annoying.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t kiss me with it glued to my face.” She whispered, grateful to finally have a moment of peace with him, a moment where they could just be themselves, “Next time, just come over and tell me what to wear.”

“Nah, I think I like this look on you,” He perked up, pecking her lips once more, causing her to let out a giggle, arms wrapping around his neck, about to ask him about the reason behind his choice of clothes when she was cut off, by a very noisy Mingi who’s hollering could be heard as he ran away,

“FOUND THEM! YA’LL OWE ME! HE’S TOTALLY INTO THE BEARD!”

Shaking her head in disbelief, she stood up, helping him up as well as she squeezed his hand, causing him to look at her, a pout already present on his face, dreading what was to come next, “Ready for a shit ton of teasing?”

“Not really.” He mumbled as he sighed, causing her to let out a chuckle as she dragged him back downstairs to the noisy group who was oh so ready to tease the hell out of their ‘Sannie’ and his little cowboy.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp

#cromernet #k labels #san network #ateez #choi san #fluff #mingi #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #ghostie #jongho #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #yunho #wooyoung #san x you #sanji x reader #san fanfic #choi san fluff #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz imagines #san x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez golden hour #ateez work #ateez san

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 30/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, Ben being a dick

Word Count: 6788

A/N: This is part 30 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Ben's lips, the warmth of your affectionate gesture momentarily easing the tension between you. As you pulled back, you looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Hey, could we eat something?", you asked. "I'm starving. And… maybe we could go out? You know, just the two of us?".

You hoped that Ben would agree, knowing that he had never taken you out for a date before. It would be a nice change of pace, a chance to enjoy each other's company away from the chaos of everyday life.

Ben's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Yeah, sure", he replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of a quiet dinner together.

As Ben looked at the dress you had laid out on the bed minutes later, a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "So, you mean that kind of going out?", he asked with a teasing tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he gestured towards your outfit.

You glanced at Ben from the bathroom, a hint of shyness in your expression as you spoke. "Well, until today, I didn't even got a proper date", you mumbled softly, feeling a pang of realization at the admission. "You sure knocked me up, but we never went on a date".

Ben chuckled at your comment, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Smooth, sweetheart", he murmured affectionately, shaking his head in amusement.

"Well, seems like I have to get all dressed up then", he added with a playful grin, walking over to his closet to pick out something suitable for your impromptu date.

Ben sat in the living room, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and snug black slacks. He idly waited for you, passing the time with another line of cocaine.

As you walked into the living room, the vibrant red dress hugging your curves and accentuating the tiny bump, Ben's eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. He choked on his whiskey, momentarily taken aback by your stunning appearance.

But when he saw your face drop at his reaction, his heart sank. "You don't like it… I knew it", you mumbled, your voice tinged with insecurity. You were well aware of Ben's past with various top models and breathtaking girls, and sometimes that knowledge made you feel insecure about your own appearance.

Ben quickly got up from his seat, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're fucking kidding, right?", he muttered, his voice laced with urgency as he closed the distance between you.

Taking your hand, Ben spun you around slowly, his eyes roving over your figure appreciatively. "Look at you, turning heads everywhere you go. Fucking hot as always".

His words were tinged with a hint of teasing, but also genuine appreciation for your beauty.

You blushed again, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "But it's not quite flattering", you mumbled, pointing down to your little belly, your insecurity creeping in despite his praise.

Ben's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your waist. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen. You carrying our baby, looking absolutely stunning while doing it. Trust me, sweetheart, there's nothing more beautiful than that".

Ben smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "And now, let's go get some food into you", he murmured as he guided you towards the door.

As you sat at the table, taking in the quiet ambience of the upscale restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a sense of appreciation for Ben's thoughtfulness. His efforts to keep you safe and out of the spotlight meant a lot to you, even if it sometimes felt isolating.

Across from you, Ben's gaze softened as he watched you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I wanted us to have some privacy", he explained, his voice low and reassuring. "Just you and me tonight".

As Ben looked at you, his heart swelled with emotion, seeing your little belly more prominent as you sat at the table. It was a tangible reminder of the life growing inside you, a symbol of the future he had always hoped for but never dared to imagine could be his.

You caught his gaze and offered him a warm smile, unaware of the flood of emotions surging through his mind. For Ben, this moment was everything he had ever wanted—a beautiful woman, the promise of a family, and the chance to create a future together.

You noticed Ben's gaze actually was on your belly. Curiosity sparked in your eyes as you asked him, "So, are you hoping for a girl or a boy?".

You already knew his answer would likely be something typically macho.

Ben's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on your belly for a moment longer before meeting your eyes. "Well, obviously a boy", he replied with a chuckle, his tone carrying a hint of mock seriousness. "Gonna teach him how to throw a punch before he can even fucking walk".

You chuckled at his response, shaking your head in amusement. "Oh, great", you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Another Ben running around, breaking hearts and causing trouble. What could possibly go wrong with that?".

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Breaking hearts?", he repeated, his tone laced with mock innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. I'm a perfect gentleman".

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Oh, of course", you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because perfect gentlemen are known for their charming arrogance and devilish smiles".

"Well, sweetheart", he began, leaning in closer, "if my charming arrogance and devilish smile are what make you come over and over again, then I must be doing something right".

Ben leaned back slightly, his smirk widening as he noticed the flush creeping up your neck. "Oh, I see I've hit the mark", he teased, his voice low and husky. "I must say, I do have a way with words, don't I?".

"You certainly have a way of making me blush", you admitted.

"And horny", he added with a wink and leaned closer to you across the table.

"Stop that", you whispered.

"Stop what?", he teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to maintain a sense of composure despite the way his intense gaze stirred something deep within you. "Stop being so… you", you replied.

Ben leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered huskily, "But being me is what you love, isn't it?".

You couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his lips brushing against your skin, sending a delicious thrill down your spine. "Maybe", you teased back, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned back again, his eyes still locked with yours. "Admit it, you love every bit of it", his voice low and dripping with confidence.

Just then, the waitress arrived with your food, interrupting the charged moment between you and Ben. You exchanged a glance, both of you stifling a chuckle at the timing. As she set down the plates, Ben flashed the waitress a charming smile before turning his attention back to you.

You couldn't resist teasing Ben about his charming smile towards the waitress. "Oh, I see how it is", you teased playfully, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't know I had competition".

Ben flashed you a grin, his charm oozing effortlessly as he leaned back in his chair. "Competition? Please", he scoffed. "There's no contest when you're around, sweetheart".

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky remark, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless. "Smooth talker", you quipped, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

After the two of you finished dinner, the waitress came back to clear your plates. "Would you like to see the dessert menu?", she asked in a cheerful tone.

Ben's response was laced with innuendo as he flashed her a suggestive grin. "Oh, sweetheart, I've already got dessert right here", he replied with a wink, gesturing towards you in a way that left little to the imagination.

Again your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as Ben's words registered, and you couldn't help but stammer out a response. "Uh, I think we're good, thanks", you managed to mumble, your embarrassment evident in your tone as you avoided the waitress's gaze.

"Are you blushing again, baby?", he teased, his tone laced with amusement as he enjoyed your flustered reaction. "Or are you just imagining dessert?".

"Oh, shut up now!", you chuckled, swatting at his arm lightly. "You're the one with the dirty mind".

"Can you blame me? With you sitting across from me looking like that, it's hard not to think about dessert".

The evening wore on and while the playful banter between you and Ben continued, punctuated by stolen glances and shared laughter. With each passing moment, you felt yourself falling more deeply for him, grateful for the unexpected twists and turns that had brought you together.

You stepped inside the house an hour later.

In the bathroom, you carefully removed your earrings, Ben leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The dim light cast gentle shadows across his face, accentuating the rugged contours of his features.

"Long day, huh?", he remarked, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, a tired sigh escaping your lips. "Yeah".

Ben stepped closer, his presence comforting and reassuring. "Let me help you relax", he offered, his hands reaching out to gently massage your shoulders.

You leaned into his touch, grateful for his comforting presence. As his skilled fingers worked out the tension in your muscles, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered softly against your shoulder. "You look so fucking good in that dress", he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access as his hands trailed down your sides to your hips, his touch both gentle and possessive. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent tingles of anticipation coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, relishing the closeness between you.

As his lips continued to tease your neck, Ben's hand slipped under your dress and inside your panties from behind, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With a mischievous grin, he whispered teasingly against your skin, "You're so wet already, sweetheart. Did our little dinner date get you all worked up?".

His words, combined with his skillful touch, ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs as desire flooded your senses. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, unable to deny the effect he had on you.

Ben's gaze met yours in the mirror as he watched your reaction, a wicked grin spreading across his lips as he pushed two fingers inside you. He relished the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way your breath hitched in response to his touch. With a low chuckle, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You like that, don't you? You're still so responsive, sweetheart".

Your body shivered under his touch as his deep voice sent tingles down your spine. You knew all too well how easily he responded to you, always ready and eager. It was a testament to the desire he felt whenever he was near you. With a soft moan escaping your lips, you leaned back into him, relishing the feeling of his hardness against you.

With a swift motion, Ben scooped you up against his chest, his strength evident as he effortlessly held you close. As he withdrew his fingers, you couldn't help but whimper softly at the loss, only to gasp as he slipped them back into your panties from the front, his touch now more intimate and precise, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your body.

Feeling his muscular arm around your ribcage, you leaned into his embrace, your knees growing weak as he softly bit your neck, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each gentle nip, you felt your arousal building, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to his touch.

His voice resonated against your skin as he groaned, "You have no idea what you do to me. Just the thought of you carrying my baby… fuck, it drives me insane".

You tilted your head back slightly, a soft moan escaping your lips as his words washed over you. “You’re such a fucking turn-on”, you whispered.

Ben's lips curled into a devilish grin as he heard your words, his desire fueling the fire burning between you. "And you love every minute of it".

With that, Ben bent you over, your hands gripping the sink, anticipation surged through you. You knew exactly what was about to come, and the thought sent shivers of excitement down your spine. Ben's reflection met yours in the mirror, his eyes smoldering with desire as he positioned himself behind you.

As Ben slipped up your dress more, revealing the soft curves of your backside, he wasted no time in freeing himself from his pants and boxers, letting them pool around his thighs.

"Let me know if I need to ease up", Ben murmured, his voice low and gravelly with desire as he pressed himself against you. The memory of your bruises lingered in his mind, fueling his determination to be careful with you this time.

Seeing your nod, Ben's hands gripping your hips. With a deep breath, he began to push into you, his movements slow and controlled, mindful of your comfort and pleasure.

As Ben eased into you, you couldn't help but grip the sink tighter, your knuckles turning white as pleasure surged through you, heightened by the sensitivity you had experienced since your pregnancy began.

"You good?". His words were filled with concern, his movements slow and deliberate as he gauged your response.

Your breath hitched as you managed to murmur, "Yeah", your voice barely audible amidst the haze of pleasure enveloping you

As Ben moved inside you, he felt a heady mix of desire and restraint. His movements were slow and steady, each one calculated to bring you pleasure without causing any discomfort. With each gentle push, he could feel the warmth of your body enveloping him.

Despite the restraint, there was an underlying intensity to his movements, a raw passion that simmered just below the surface. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you as he set a rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. With each thrust, he felt a surge of pleasure coursing through him, mingling with the deep connection he felt with you.

As he moved, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight of you in the mirror.

Amidst your heavy breaths, you mumbled, "Fuck, you feel so damn good".

Ben, his own breath ragged with desire, tightened his grip on your hips, careful not to exert too much force. His veins stood out in stark relief against his skin, a testament to the effort of holding back, of restraining himself for your sake.

With every thrust, every touch, the intensity between you grew, building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

As Ben's groans filled the air, he admitted breathlessly, "I won't last much long". His gaze remained fixed on your face through the mirror, drinking in every expression, every gasp of pleasure that crossed your lips.

The intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. But even as his body screamed for release, he held on, desperate to savor every moment of this intoxicating pleasure shared between you.

"Come for me, sweetheart", he urged. His movements became more deliberate, more focused on driving you to the peak of ecstasy before he allowed himself to follow.

He wanted nothing more than to witness the pleasure wash over you, to feel the tight clench of your body around him.

With a firm hand on your lower back, Ben adjusted your position slightly, angling himself to brush against your most sensitive spots with each thrust.

Your moans filled the room as Ben's expert adjustment sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With an almost immediate response, you felt yourself unraveling, pleasure washing over you in powerful waves as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Ben's own arousal skyrocketed as he felt your body shudder with pleasure. With your climax igniting his own desire, he couldn't hold back any longer.

With a low growl, Ben thrust deeply into you, riding the wave of ecstasy as he found release. His grip on you tightened momentarily before he slowly eased off, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against your back.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Ben's breathing gradually slowed, his chest rising and falling heavily against your back. He remained pressed against you, his arms wrapped around your waist, savoring the closeness between you. With a contented sigh, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his heart still racing with the intensity of their shared passion.

Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you remained still, feeling his heartbeat against your back as his arms held you securely. The sensation of his lingering presence, coupled with the gentle rhythm of his breathing, enveloped you in a cocoon of intimacy.

Ben's voice was a soft murmur against your ear as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin. "You okay?", he whispered, his tone filled with concern as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder.

You nodded, feeling his warmth enveloping you. "Yeah", you murmured, a contented smile playing at your lips as you leaned back into his embrace.

As Ben pulled back slightly, his cum trickled out of you, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. Without hesitation, he reached for a nearby towel, gently cleaning you up with careful strokes, his touch both tender and intimate.

"You're such a mess", Ben chuckled softly, his voice filled with affection as he continued to clean you up. "But a beautiful mess".

"Well, you're the one who always wants to cum inside me", you teased, looking at him. "Can't blame me for the mess you make".

Ben chuckled, his hands still gently cleaning you up. "Can't help it when you feel so fucking good", he replied. "But I'll clean up my mess, don't you worry".

"You better", you teased, turning your head to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "I don't want to be dripping all over the place".

"You're such a handful", he murmured, his voice tinged with affection.

As Ben pulled up his pants, you let out a tired yawn, snuggling up to him and resting your head against his chest.

Ben gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the bed and carefully laying you down. You felt utterly drained, every muscle in your body aching with exhaustion. With a tired sigh, you sat up slowly, peeling off your dress until you were completely naked. Pulling the blanket up to cover yourself, you settled back against the pillows, ready to drift off into a deep and restful sleep.

Ben also undressed with a tired sigh, slipping into bed beside you. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as he planted a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Someone's become quite the cuddler", you teased with a yawn, earning a low growl from him in response. His fingers found their way to your ass, giving it a playful pinch as he replied, "Watch it, sweetheart".

You chuckled softly at his reaction, feeling his hand tracing down towards your belly. As his palm settled against your soft skin, you both fell silent, while he listening to the steady rhythm of your unborn child's heartbeat. It was a moment of peace and connection, one that made you cuddle even closer against Ben.

As he watched you sleep, Ben's mind wandered, contemplating the idea of relinquishing control of the supes to someone else. The thought of being able to spend every moment with you and the baby was enticing, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no one else he could trust to lead the supes like him, no one who could maintain order and keep everyone in line the way he could. Despite the challenges and responsibilities that came with his position, he knew it was where he belonged, even if it meant sacrificing some time with his growing family.

A few hours later, Ben stirred from his slumber, instantly alert as he saw you hurriedly darting towards the bathroom. Concern etched across his face, he tiredly followed you.

"Hey, hey", Ben murmured, crouching beside you as you leaned over the toilet, holding back your hair. "That's not normal". His voice was laced with concern as he gently rubbed your naked, cold back, feeling a pang of worry shoot through him.

For weeks, hardly a single day went by when you didn't vomit.

"Baby, you're fucking cold", Ben murmured, his concern growing as he felt the chill radiating from your trembling body.

Ben's touch was gentle yet firm as he pressed his palm against your hot forehead, his brows furrowing with worry as he watched over you.

With a sigh, he realized that your symptoms were worsening, and he couldn't shake off the worry gnawing at him. Tenderly, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his voice soft with concern as he murmured, "We need to get you to the doctor first thing in the morning".

As you nodded weakly, clinging onto him, Ben carefully guided you back into bed, wrapping his arms around you protectively. He held you close against him, feeling the weight of your weakness. You were barely awake, your body drained from the ordeal. All he could do was hold you close and provide comfort as you drifted back into sleep.

Throughout the night, Ben didn't sleep for a second. He kept a vigilant watch over you, listening for any irregularities in your breathing or heartbeat, hoping that it wasn't as serious as it seemed. However, by morning, you felt even worse. Ben could see it in your pale complexion and the exhaustion etched into every line of your face.

With great care, Ben helped you into the shower, supporting you as you washed away the night's discomfort. He then assisted you in getting dressed, his strong arms guiding you gently as you struggled with dizziness and weakness. It was clear that you needed his support now more than ever.

As Ben helped you into the shower and dressed you, you couldn't help but mumble apologies, your voice strained with exhaustion and frustration. "I'm so sorry", you repeated over and over again, the words tinged with self-deprecation. You hated feeling this vulnerable, confirming Ben's beliefs about the weakness of humans. Yet, without his support, you could barely hold yourself upright.

As Ben drove to Vought with you beside him, you continued to mumble apologies, your voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry", you whispered again, your words laced with frustration.

Ben glanced at you, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Stop apologizing!", he muttered, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Just focus on getting better".

You nodded weakly, feeling a pang of guilt for burdening him with your weakness.

Feeling the weight of your tears, Ben took a deep breath, trying to steady his fraying nerves. He knew he shouldn't let his frustration get the best of him, especially when you were already feeling so vulnerable.

"Hey", he said gently, reaching out to touch your hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just worried about you and the baby".

His words were softened with genuine concern as he tried to reassure you, despite his own fatigue and anxiety.

As your tears continued to fall, Ben's patience wore thin, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with frustration. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him, unsure of how to comfort you when he was struggling to keep himself together.

"Come on", he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched as he navigated through traffic. "We'll get you checked out, see what's going on".

"I-I think… my belly hurts", you managed to choke out, your hand instinctively reaching for your abdomen as another wave of tears fell. "It hurts… really bad".

Your voice trembled with pain and fear, and you looked to Ben, hoping for some reassurance amidst the overwhelming discomfort.

Ben's eyes widened slightly in alarm as he pushed your hand aside, replacing it with his own as he gently pressed against your belly. It took a few moments, but eventually, he felt the faint thud of the baby's heartbeat beneath his palm. It wasn't as strong as it used to be, and a wave of panic washed over him.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened even further as he tried to keep his composure, his mind racing with worry and concern for both you and the baby.

Concern etched across your face, you turned to Ben, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "Ben, what's going on?", you choked out, the pain intensifying with each passing moment.

Ben withdrew his hand from your belly, a worried frown creasing his brow. Clearing his throat, he struggled to find the right words. "The heartbeat of the baby seems weaker, but I'm not a doctor", he mumbled softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Parking his car in the underground car park, he glanced at you, his expression tense with concern. "We need to get you checked out", he said firmly, his voice tinged with urgency. "Let's go".

Feeling weaker and more afraid than ever, you leaned into Ben's support as the elevator ascended to the doctor's floor. His arm around your hips steadied you as the doors opened, revealing a team of medical professionals already waiting for you.

Ben's grip tightened around you, a silent reassurance as he guided you toward the team. Despite his usual bravado, his worry was palpable, his concern for you and the baby etched into every line of his face.

Stepping onto the doctor's floor, you and Ben were greeted by a team already assembled and ready to assist. They attempted to calm the two of you, reassuring you that as long as you didn't bleed or pass out, everything was fine. Deep down, they knew it wasn't that simple, but they were wary of causing further panic.

Ben's jaw clenched as he listened to the doctors' words. He glanced at you, silently offering his support as the medical team began their examination.

In the examination room, you clung to Ben's hand tightly, seeking comfort in his presence. He stood steadfast by your side, his grip reassuring as you braced yourself for the ultrasound. The doctor began the procedure, the sound of the machine filling the room as they carefully examined your belly.

Ben's gaze never left you. He remained silent.

The doctor finished the ultrasound, studying the images carefully before stepping back. Meanwhile, the nurse took your blood pressure, her movements precise and efficient. As the doctor conferred with another nurse, they turned to you with a solemn expression.

"The heartbeat of the baby is a bit weak", the doctor explained gently, their voice filled with concern. "We need to monitor you closely and take some additional tests to understand what's happening".

The doctor turned to Ben, who was poised to ask more questions, and reassured him with a calm demeanor. "Right now, everything seems okay", he explained, his tone measured. "It's not perfect, but it's not life-threatening either. We'll continue to monitor (Y/N) closely and take the necessary steps to ensure both her and the baby's well-being".

Ben exhaled softly and looked down at you. As another, older nurse came with a hospital gown, he stepped back a little. As the nurse assisted you into the hospital gown, her eyes briefly flickered over the bruises scattered across your skin. Sensing the tension, she gently inquired, "Are those bruises recent?". Ben's jaw clenched, his gaze momentarily averted. Your cheeks flushed, feeling his discomfort.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your embarrassment as you nodded slightly. "Um, yeah", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "They're, uh, from… accidents".

The nurse furrowed her brow, clearly concerned. "Accidents?", she repeated, her tone gentle yet probing. "Are you sure everything is okay at home? You don't have to be afraid to tell us if something's wrong".

Ben's voice rose, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you honestly think I would lay a fucking finger on her?", he snapped, his tone sharp and defensive. "I'm not some abusive asshole. Those bruises… they're from…". He trailed off, realizing he couldn't bring himself to explain the true cause.

The nurse, accustomed to dealing with supes and their peculiarities, simply rolled her eyes at Ben's outburst. "Alright, alright, calm down", she said, her tone gentle but firm. "I've seen my fair share of unusual circumstances. You can tell me the truth, you know".

As she closed your gown gently, she gave Ben a knowing look, silently urging him to open up.

Ben took a deep breath, his frustration evident in his voice as he reluctantly began to explain. "Look, it's not what you think", he started, his tone a mix of defensiveness and vulnerability. "I didn't… I mean, I would never…". He struggled to find the right words, his jaw tense as he glanced at you, silently apologizing for the uncomfortable situation.

The nurse's tone softened slightly as she addressed Ben, her expression empathetic yet firm. "Look, I get it. You're a supe, and she's human. But you've got to be more careful", she said, her voice gentle yet authoritative. "We've seen it all before. It's not about cracking her open, it's about understanding your own strength and knowing when to hold back. It can be challenging, especially during sex, but you must learn-…".

“Okay, stop”, Ben interrupted, feeling completely uncomfortable.

"Well, but especially you, the great soldier boy, should know better", she continued, her voice tinged with a hint of reproach. "You've got to learn to control that strength of yours, especially when it comes to someone you seem to care about".

Ben's frustration was palpable as he took a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his temper. You could see the anger burning in his eyes as he turned towards the nurse. "Can you give us a minute, please?", you asked her softly, sensing that Ben needed a moment to compose himself.

The nurse nodded understandingly, sensing the tension in the air. "Of course", she replied, giving you a reassuring smile before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with Ben.

You reached out to touch Ben's arm, your voice soft but firm. "Ben, please", you pleaded, your eyes searching his for any sign of relenting. But he remained tense, his jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his anger.

Feeling the chill, you wrapped your arms around yourself, longing for warmth. Sensing your discomfort, Ben sat beside you, gently pulling you onto his lap. His strong arms enveloped you, offering solace and comfort. As you nestled against his chest, his warmth seeped into you, gradually dispelling the cold.

As the doctor returned, he began conducting tests on me without pulling me away from Ben's bedside. "Have you been resting well like I asked you to?", he inquired, concern etched in his voice.

You glanced at him, your mind momentarily distracted by memories of the passionate moments shared with Ben. "Um, yes, I've been trying to".

The doctor nodded, his attention shifting back to his examination. "Good, it's crucial for your health and the baby's", he advised, his tone gentle yet firm. As he administered the infusion and antibiotics, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of being pregnant with a supe baby.

As the doctor finished the tests, he turned his attention to Ben. "And how do you feel about the V medication, Soldier Boy?", he inquired, his tone professional yet curious.

Ben's brows furrowed slightly in confusion before he replied, "V medication?".

You shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

The truth about the risks of my pregnancy and the potential need for the V medication weighed heavily on your mind, yet you never told Ben about it.

Sensing the tension in the room, the doctor exchanged a knowing glance with you, before turning back to Ben. "I'll give the two of you a moment", he said gently, his tone understanding.

As the doctor stepped out of the room, leaving you alone, Ben's gaze bore into yours, searching for answers. "What's that?", he asked.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Ben's gaze as his eyes bored into yours. The air in the room felt thick with tension as you struggled to find the words to explain.

"I… I didn't want to worry you", you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "But there are risks… with the pregnancy. More than we thought".

Ben's expression darkened, his jaw tensing with anger. "Risks? What kind of risks?", he demanded, his voice rising with each word.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for his reaction. "The doctor mentioned… that the only help might be an… an unforshed V medication", you confessed, stumbling over the words as you struggled to articulate the truth.

Ben's eyes widened in disbelief, his fists clenching at his sides. "And you didn't think I deserved to fucking know this?", he growled.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him. "I'm sorry, Ben", you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I didn't know how to tell you".

Ben rubbed his beard, a sure sign of his frustration, before he turned around abruptly. His back muscles flexed, a silent testament to the intensity of his emotions. You knew he was beyond just angry; he was majorly pissed.

Silence hung heavy in the air as Ben paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the room. Each step seemed to reverberate with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. You watched him, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at your insides.

Finally, Ben stopped in front of the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His shoulders tensed, and you could sense the turmoil raging within him. It was as if a storm was brewing beneath the surface, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

If you weren't feeling so dizzy and cold, you would have gone to him, but instead, you remained lying in the hospital bed, watching him with a heavy heart.

"You need to stay heads up with the supes who want to take you down and all that stuff… I just don't want to distract you".

Ben's eyes flashed with rage as your words reached his ears. Without a word, he stormed towards you, his steps echoing like thunder in the room. Before you could react, he grabbed the nightstand beside your bed and shoved it into the wall with such force that it shattered into pieces.

You recoiled in shock, the shards of wood and metal scattering across the floor around you. The intensity of Ben's anger left you speechless, a cold knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realized the extent of his fury.

Your heart raced as you watched Ben's expression, recognizing the familiar signs of his temper but also sensing something darker beneath the surface. His gaze bore into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, devoid of any trace of the love and warmth you were accustomed to.

Frozen in fear, you found yourself unable to utter a single word, the fear gripping your heart like a vice. All you could do was stare back at him, tears streaming down your heated cheeks.

As Ben saw the fear in your eyes and heard the rapid rhythm of your heart, a pained expression crossed his face. His clenched fists relaxed, and the anger in his eyes softened, replaced by a profound sense of remorse.

Ben's hand trembled as he reached out to cup your cheek, his heart heavy with regret. But as his fingertips grazed your skin, you flinched away, a reflex born of fear, and his touch fell short.

A strangled gasp escaped Ben's lips as he recoiled, the pain of rejection written across his face. "I'm sorry", he mumbled, "I didn't mean to…".

But his words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that hung between you.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks.

"Fuck", Ben growled loudly, his voice echoing off the walls of the room, filled with frustration and self-loathing. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

The door slammed shut behind him with such force that a few screws flew out, punctuating his departure with a final, resounding crash. The sound reverberated in the empty room, a stark reminder of the turmoil that had unfolded within its walls.

Alone once more, you were left to grapple with the aftermath of Ben's outburst, the echoes of his anger still ringing in your ears.

The nurse returned, her expression filled with concern as she took in the scene before her. "Are you alright?", she asked, her voice gentle and careful, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of the moment.

You nodded weakly, attempting to compose yourself despite the tremors still coursing through your body. "I'm fine", you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling foreign on your lips.

The nurse approached you slowly, her movements cautious as she checked your vitals and assessed your condition. Her touch was gentle.

She nurse pulled the blanket over your body, tucking you in with a tenderness that brought a lump to your throat. With a soft click of the remote, she dimmed the harsh hospital lights, casting the room in a gentle, soothing glow.

"He'll come back", the nurse mumbled reassuringly, her voice laced with empathy. "Probably with flowers or something. You need to rest, honey. Think about your baby".

You nodded weakly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you.

But despite the nurse's comforting words, tears continued to fall unabated down your cheeks.

The nurse sighed heavily before quietly leaving the room, her presence fading into the silence that enveloped you once more. Alone with your thoughts, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at your insides.

You knew you should have told Ben about the risks and the medication. But the memory of his rage and the coldness in his stare still sent shivers down your spine.

As the medication kicked in, its sedative effects washing over you like a gentle tide, your eyelids grew heavy, and you succumbed to the sweet embrace of sleep. In the darkness of your dreams, the echoes of Ben's anger faded into the distance, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK

#jensen ackles #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #smut

[benjinoff13]

as promised, my theory about Cressida and her infamous sleeves this season

this is the first time we see Cressida and Eloise together, something about this is immediately really noticeable, Cressida’s sleeves look super normal, apart from having a bit more fringe on her coat and her hair she’s pretty much dressed the same as all the other ladies, now what do we learn about them in this scene? it soon becomes clear that Eloise and Cressida became friends over the summer (i think it was summer?) while both their family’s were at the countryside, now before i get into this more it’s important to explain my theory which is:

Cressida’s parents have her dresses designed with big sleeves to keep others (in this case mostly Eloise) at a physical distance

a bit of backstory about this theory before we get back to that first screencap

i don’t remember where or who but someone said that they thought Cressida has had “an incident” before, meaning her parents have already realized that Cressida maybe is into girls/women in a way, maybe she’s had a friendship that was clearly turning into more or her parents even caught her with someone, ofcourse they would keep this under wraps cause if they didn’t Cressida would never find a husband and the family's reputation would be ruined, but Cressida’s parents (this theory is mostly geared towards her father) are doing everything in their power to prevent it from happening again in order to make sure Cressida gets married asap, they may even want her out of the house because they don’t want her as their daughter anymore

now back to this screencap, Cressida doesn’t have the crazy sleeves yet, her father probably thought that his daughter’s friendship with Eloise was a temporary thing, to the outside world there are no two people that have less in common than Eloise Bridgerton and Cressida Cowper, everybody is surprised by their friendship and so Cressida’s parents must have assumed it was only temporary, just a “summer fling” so to speak, but they're wrong and in this scene Cressida and Eloise are seen in public for the first time, arm in arm, no shame, not caring about the looks and the shock of other people, simply, genuinely, enjoying each other company, to the surprise of the ton and the viewers themselves even

Cressida’s father doesn’t like this one bit, Cressida has only held a friendship this long one other time and he didn’t like the way it ended at all, so he decides he needs to get ahead of it, it needs to be subtle, he can’t keep them away from each other cause Cressida’s impression on the rest on the ton needs to be excellent should she ever find a husband, a friendship could actually work in her favor given it's a respectable one, he can’t tell her to not see Eloise again (we soon learn), so what does he do? he creates a distance, a barrier, something that prevents them from walking arm in arm like we see them do in their first scene together, something that prevents their hands from brushing each other or their elbows touching while they walk, clothes are everything, fashion is everything, Cressida’s looks have always been extravagant, this is where he gets the idea to order Cressida’s mother to tell the modiste “big sleeves”, disguising it as a fashion statement

the next time we see Cressida is here, her sleeves aren’t that crazy yet but noticeably bigger and broader than in that first scene, and it gets crazier from here, we see that it doesn’t quite do what it will do in the future which is to create a distance between these two, but, this is lady Danbury’s ball, the first of the season, the event of the season, the moment to impress the queen, they can’t take fashion risks so they play it safe while also testing their new technique of keeping Eloise at a respectable distance

enter the third time we see Eloise and Cressida, no big sleeves but a huge coat that flows down and outwards, look at what it does to the distance between them while they walk, the idea is working, atleast that's what Cressida's parents think

below are the next two times we see Cressida, the photo on the left isn't that interesting for this theory, one thing that i did realise in this scene is that ladies walk and talk next to each other, ladies and gentlemen make connections while dancing, they're facing each other, the big sleeves make sure people on Cressida's sides (women) stay at a distance while people opposite her (men) can still connect with her, the theory holds up (i recommond rewatching this scene if you're interested in Cressida/Eloise cause Cressida does something really cute where she leans down to hear Eloise better)

the photo on the right however is very interesing and maybe even one of my biggest pieces of "evicende", we can see that Cressida isn't the only one that wears these extravagent dresses with huge sleeves because her mother is wearing the exact same style of dress, in this scene lady Cowper says "You may think me harsh Cressida, but, if you knew the ways your father is trying to put me under his thumb... He has reduced our allowance by half." we learn here that lord Cowper is extremely controlling, not only of his daughter, but of all the women in his life, he sees them as his property, he decides what they wear, where they go, who they talk to, how much money they have, he controls everything, lady Cowper is dressed to keep other men away because she is his property, Cressida is dressed to keep other women away because nothing is allowed to distract or keep her from marrying a man

now there's this next scene, when you first take a quick look it doesn't look like much, there's nothing new about this, until we look at what Eloise does, she reaches out to Cressida and touches her arm, holds it tightly even, when you look closer you can see Eloise and Cressida's ladies maids (I think that's what they're called) in the background, knowing what we know about lord Cowper, even Cressida's maid is under his thumb, she's probably been ordered to watch everything Cressida does and report back to him, maybe she's even been told to keep a closer eye on his daughter's relationship with Eloise specifically, when she comes home later she tells lord Cowper about the physical contact between Eloise and Cressida, he starts to worry and realises his plan might not be working, leading to Cressida's biggest sleeves yet in the bottom photo

look at those things, there's no way Eloise and Cressida are linking arms or brushing hands with those tents attached to Cressida's shoulders, she can still dance with potential suitors cause they will be opposite of one another but when ladies talk to other ladies they're next to each other, we see this over and over again in the show, you will barely see two women talking and have them stand directly face to face

next time we see Cressida and Eloise together is at the library, there's something very noticeable about this photo, the big sleeves are nowhere to be seen, but in the background we can see Cressida's parents, at all other events we've always only seen Cressida's mother present but now her father is with them, Cressida doesn't need the sleeves cause her father is there to watch her every move and listen to every word she says to other people, and she knows this, she appears tense the entire scene (a combination of knowing she's losing lord Debling to Penelope but also feeling her father breathe down her neck)

look at how close Eloise's face is, most of Cressida's dresses wouldnt't allow this, her face would be touching Cressida's sleeve, that barrier isn't on Cressida's dress today, instead the other barrier, her father, came with them to this event

between this screencap and the next there is one more scene that i haven't included but is maybe most important to Cressida/Eloise, it's the "I should like to call on miss Cowper a moment" scene, now i could write a whole other essays about this scene but I'll spare you guys, when it comes to this specific theory I'm explaining here there's not much to add, what is important in this scene however is that when Eloise exits the room we hear lord Cowper say that Cressida cannot see Eloise again... but why not? maybe it's because he knows about Eloise's views on marriage and he's afraid that she will have a bad influence on Cressida but his tone lets me believe that there's more to in than that, he's so angry, he knows that there's more going on even if Eloise and Cressida might not even know themselves

we see Cressida and Eloise together one more time, eventhough lord Cowper told Cressida to not see Eloise again she has big sleeves again, maybe because he was doubtful that she would listen, cause she didn't, she talks to Eloise and spends time with her, for everyone to see, out in the open, she even refuses when Eloise respectfully tells her that it's okay if they can't see each other for a while, she and Eloise laugh together and Cressida aks Eloise a question she's been dying to answer her entire life, a question that no one has ever asked her before, a question that gives them the opportunity to further deepen their relationship, she simply asks Eloise "And how do you see things exactly?" and Eloise's entire face lights up

if you've read this whole thing you're up for a veteran's discount

no but seriously thank you for reading my yap session and please let me know your thoughts in the comments or tags

part 2

reminder that this is simply just a theory (that will probably be disproven after 3B is released)

#Cressida Cowper #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #creloise

[dudeitiskarev]

Maybe Someday blurb

Reader is ready to adopt a cat.

a/n: I had this scene written but couldn't quite find the right place to fit it in the actual story so I kept it. It takes place some time after the almost kiss <333 not my best writing but I had to share it bc to me reader is a cat mom. This one’s for Lumi bc CATS! @egdropsoop <33333

Things between you two had gone back to normal… sort of. 

Spencer had accepted his fate of being just your friend, and he was okay with it. He was there to help you paint your apartment, buy your first couch and TV, and now was about to be there as you adopted a kitten.

He was being a good friend. Your best friend, as you’d already called him multiple times. 

“I think I want a senior cat,” you commented as you two made your way through the shelter. 

It’d been three weeks since you moved—three weeks since the almost-kiss—and you were ready to start your own family.

“They say two cats are better than one,” Spencer stated. “Cats are prone to depression so with two cats, they keep each other company and play with each other while you’re gone. They’re prone to be couch potatoes, too, so playtime also means exercise.”

“That’s not helping,” you sort of whined. “There are so many. I wish I could take them all.”

You strolled over the shelter from start to end at least five times, and stopped at every single cage looking for some sort of connection with one of the sweet creatures.

“I think I might need two.” You looked at him, biting your bottom lip in a deep struggle.

“Two is better than one.” One of the girls in charge of the place approached you two.

“Told you,” Spencer grimaced. 

“There’s a mom with her kitten that are waiting to be adopted together,” she added.

“Yeah, I saw them.” You followed the girl who guided you to them.

Spencer was right behind. He figured it was a private moment for you, but you looked over your shoulder and gestured to him to follow you.

“Are they both girls?” You asked, getting closer to the cage to peep inside.

Spencer stood next to you and peeked inside too. They were long-haired calico cats, the kitten was an exact copy of the mom. 

“Lorelai and Rory.” The girl nodded.

You laughed. “Like Gilmore Girls?” 

“You can change their names if you want,” the girl laughed along.

“No. It’s perfect.” You then looked at Spencer. “They’re perfect.” 

You were perfect, he thought right then. You were perfect like this; this far away. He pushed you away once by letting his feelings show up and he couldn’t risk losing you again—not because of his feelings. 

Besides, couples didn’t last forever. His mom and dad were the first ones to show him that. Then it was Gideon who showed him he could put your life at risk by loving you out loud. Then Hotch showed him he couldn’t have the job he had and have a family. 

He’d rather be just a friend, as long as you were around forever.

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid blurb #Spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid self insert #Spencer Reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction

[faithfulren]

care in every explosion

the reader takes care of bakugo when he's injured, showing him a different side of their relationship. despite his initial gruffness, bakugo slowly warms up to the reader's care and companionship. as they spend more time together, the barriers between them begin to break down, and they share moments of laughter and understanding. one evening, bakugo surprises the reader by thanking them for everything, showing a rare moment of vulnerability. the reader realizes how much bakugo means to them, and they both acknowledge the growing bond between them. despite their differences, they know they can rely on each other and support each other through thick and thin.

----

the sound of bakugo's gruff voice filled the air as he hobbled into the dormitory common room, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. you glanced up from your book, concern instantly etching across your features as you took in his disheveled appearance.

"what the hell happened to you?" you asked, rising from your seat and rushing over to him.

bakugo waved you off with a scowl. "it's nothing," he muttered, though his slight wince betrayed his words.

you weren't convinced. "sit down," you commanded, gently guiding him to the nearest couch. "let me take a look at that."

grumbling under his breath, bakugo complied, allowing you to inspect the injury on his leg. It was a nasty gash, deep and bleeding profusely. your heart clenched at the sight, but you pushed aside your unease, focusing on the task at hand.

with practiced hands, you cleaned the wound, ignoring bakugo's protests as you worked. despite his tough exterior, you could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as you tended to him.

"there," you said finally, applying a bandage to the wound. "all done."

bakugo's gaze softened as he looked up at you, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "thanks," he muttered gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

you smiled gently, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. "anytime," you replied softly.

over the next few days, you found yourself spending more time than usual by bakugo's side, helping him with everyday tasks and keeping him company during his recovery. despite his initial protests, he seemed to welcome your presence, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by either of you.

as the days passed, you found yourself begrudgingly tolerating bakugo's presence more than usual. his explosive personality seemed to mellow in your company, and you discovered a side of him that few others got to see. you shared sarcastic banter and competitive challenges, finding an odd sense of camaraderie in your constant bickering.

one evening, as you sat beside bakugo's bed, he reached out to take your hand in his, his grip firm yet oddly comforting. you raised an eyebrow, surprised by the uncharacteristic gesture.

"thanks," he grumbled, his voice rough but sincere. "for not being as annoying as usual."

you chuckled, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "you're welcome, i think," you replied, a smirk playing on your lips.

in that moment, as you sat together in grudging companionship, you realized that maybe, just maybe, there was more to bakugo than met the eye. and as his grip tightened ever so slightly around your hand, you knew that despite his rough exterior, he valued your presence more than he let on.

together, you would navigate the ups and downs of hero training, supporting each other in your own unique way. because in the end, all that mattered was the bond that held you together, strong and unbreakable, just like the friendship that blossomed between you.

----

btw to the person who told me i shouldnt use x readers if the character isnt attracted to them pls tell me what should i put bro like damn u dont gotta call me an asshole n shi 💔💔

#anime #mha #mha bakugou #bnha #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #faithfulren

[lady-boketto]

Being a Bard within the group! (Dungeon Meshi)

A/n: I recently watched Dungeon Meshi (I also started playing Baldur's Gate 3) and I have been enjoying everything so far and I had the idea to write a relationship dynamic between a bard reader and the rest of the Dungeon Meshi group (I also might write a Barbarian/Fighter type of reader)

Laios:

He is amazed at how you can compose such lively tunes and respects how much time and effort you put into your craft

Will be amused if you choose to try to write a song about him (He smiles to himself when he overhears you trying to find a word that rhymes with his name)

He will not like it if you were to ever sing about him in front of others (his facial expression will not be a happy one, more of a nervous one since he doesn't like it when he's in the center of attention)

Laios really likes it when everyone is resting at camp after a meal and you play your instrument to pass the time (he likes to tap his foot along to the melody)

Laios is happy to provide you with monster names and rhyming words to help you complete your song (or parts your stuck on)

Marcille:

She is very glad that you are with their group since when you play your instrument for the group it calms her nerves a little with each note you play (her ears slightly twitch when you play a more cheerful songs since her hearing is more sensitive)

Marcille gets as sad as you when you break your instrument, but is just as eager to use her magic to repair the instrument (maybe it fell from a high place or that it took on a bit of water damage, but most likely you smashed it over a monster's/person's head and it broke)

She also likes it when you write songs about their adventures (especially if you sing/write about how powerful she can be with her magic, but like Laios is very flustered if you sing about her in front of a crowd, she will turn red and try to hide behind her staff)

Your soft songs without words, or humming at most, settle her nicely into her sleep (she sometimes gets the tune stuck in her head for hours until she begs you to play that one song for her again)

Chilchuck:

Chilchuck values you as a companion since you sometimes use your skills to get the group out of tough situations (sometimes you use your charms talk your way out tough situations, which is a RELIEF because he has no trust in the others abilities. Laios...)

this one time you talked your way into a free night's stay at the local pub the group frequents in exchange to entertain guest all night long, in which you were happy to since you also sometimes get extra coins from generous people passing by

He probably won't say it directly to you but he really enjoys listening you compose new songs (his ears are also quite sensitive just like Marcille's, so when he hears you trying to figure out which notes sound good together, he has a small smile on his face while he continues to polish and make sure his lockpicks are in good condition)

Chilchuck also can't hold back his laughter when you mock people when they are being disrespectful to someone in your party and you jump in to defend them (He manages to slap his hand over his mouth just before he lets out an ugly laugh since he doesn't expect you to roast your opponent so hard. Sometimes even managing to cry so hard he winds himself)

Senshi:

Doesn't really get why you are traveling in the dungeon in the first place, since this is the last place he would think someone with your skills would ever be

Senshi is not used to hearing the soft melodies coming from your instrument. Instead of the usual noises of whatever creature on the current floor he was on would make or the occasional screaming parties that travel by (or he is so used to the silence that he doesn't notice how much he misses the warmth and sound of another soul)

He admires any carving or engraving you have on your instrument and asks you if there's a story behind it or if it was for aesthetic purpose (wants to ask if he can hold your instrument so that he learn more about you as a person based on how you handle it while asking you how you came to play such an instrument)

Senshi takes note of how well you seem to take care of your work and takes the time compliment you on your hard work (He learns from you how to properly maintain your instrument and keeps an eye out for anything that might help when he gets the chance)

He comes to love when you play songs while he cooks a meal for the group to enjoy, He sometimes gets concentrated in what he's doing that he doesn't realize that he's softly humming along to the melody your currently playing (He likes to slightly sway along with the tune while he dices things or when he's waiting for the dish to finish cooking)

#x reader #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi anime #delicious in dungeon anime #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #marcille donato #marcille dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck dungeon meshi #senshi #senshi of izganda #senshi dungeon meshi #laios x reader #marcille x reader #chilchuck x reader #senshi x reader

[artdcnaldson]

Alllll I can think about is the changeover au SO I had a thought, art having bragged to Patrick about all the little things he had picked up that make your eyes roll to the back of your head and body tremble during your “relationship” and and and Patrick being a sly fucker and not telling you about it but doing them to you when you eventually do fuck and secretly thanking art in that moment for the tips !!!

this is part of my changeover au :) you can read that here

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Angst, SMUT (mild descriptions of p in v), post changeover pt.1

Summary: It’s been months since you called things off with Art, but Patrick still can’t stop thinking about the two of you together.

A/N: This was supposed to be sexy and fun, and I turned around and made it depressing 💔 my bad!

Patrick shouldn’t have been thinking about Art.

In fact, he’d been trying very, very hard to stop thinking about Art lately. Missing him felt like having a phantom limb, like a part of him was suddenly cleaved and his entire body expected it to still be there.

But that was different from the way he was thinking about him then. With you, laid out for him on the hotel sheets, your body gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat after a day watching tennis matches. You’d been a perfect little cheerleader, just like Art had told him that first time.

I mean, Jesus, you’d homemade the tightest little shirt that said ZWEIG across the tits. You wore it beneath a modest white cardigan, since it was a nice country club he was playing at, but still.

“You played so well today, Patrick,” you’d said sweetly after the match, holding his hand while you walked with him to the locker rooms.

“I played like shit,” he said with a huff. Frustration was welling up within him. He wanted to smash a racket, or pick a fight. “I should’ve beat that asshole.”

“There’ll be other matches,” you reassured, brushing a sweaty curl from his forehead. “Go shower, and when we get back to the hotel, I’ll make you feel better.”

And you were doing your very best to make that happen. It would probably be perfect… if only he could stop fucking thinking about Art.

It had been a problem each time he’d seen you since March. It was fine, until he got you in bed, then the fucking blond was all he could think about. Memories of Art talking about fucking you, all the times he’d gone on and on about just how good you could take it.

He supposed he deserved it. He’d gone on tangents about Tashi more than enough times, and it probably drove Art crazy, knowing what he couldn’t have. Maybe he wanted Patrick to feel the same way, so jealous he couldn’t stand it.

But now you were the one beneath him, moaning as he bottomed out within you, filling you up completely. Your hair was sticky, plastered to your face with that thin sheen of sweat.

She likes when you’re nice to her. She gets off on the compliments. It’s Art’s voice he hears in the back of his mind, almost a year ago now. Like a perfect recording.

“You feel so good,” Patrick murmured against your ear. He felt your cunt clench around him as your nails dug into his shoulders. “So good for me.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist— pulling him closer. And your pretty, wet lips panted out little gasps right by his ear. Thank you thank you thank you, over and over and over.

He moved his lips to a spot just beneath your ear, sucking and licking at the soft skin there until you moaned, growing louder as he laved your throat with bites and sloppy kisses. Art had given him that one too.

And he knew he was making you feel good— knew that without fail, you’d wind up as putty in his hands. But he wondered if you thought about Art too, if you missed the ways he would treat you reverently, with that gentle, sweet way he always got with girls. If you would go back to Art if you ever got the chance.

Patrick had long since decided not to bring up Art while he was fucking you, or when he was with you at all. Instead, he lingered like a ghost in the recesses of Patrick’s mind, and probably in yours.

“Close,” you gasped in his ear.

He pulled back, kissing you deeply. Licking into your mouth like he could somehow erase the memory of Art’s tongue there too. Because Art was the one who told him that you liked being kissed when you were right on the edge, that you got super clingy like that.

When you came, you always made the prettiest sounds— like you came straight out of a porno or a wet dream. Art hadn’t warned him about that. He didn’t last much longer before he finished too, panting and sweating on top of you.

You smiled and pet his hair, scratching your nails against his scalp as he kissed the soft skin on your shoulder. You used to do the same thing to Art, playing with his hair after you’d fucked. He knew that too, and it made his chest ache.

He wondered if he’d ever have anything with you that Art hadn’t had before.

He shouldn’t have cared that much. He would’ve been happy sharing Tashi with Art, back in that hotel, back at Stanford. It wasn’t that he didn’t like that Art had you before, it was that he missed Art now

Thank you for reading!! Sorry this is so depressing, I couldn’t make it sexy no matter how hard I tried. I had to lean into the angst and pining from Patrick over Art

If you have any Changeover au thoughts or requests, please feel free to send them my way :)🩵

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig fanfic #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader #challengers fanfic #my writing #patrick zweig #changeover au

[buckys-little-belle]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so I’m really nervous and I’m sorry if my request sucks! I was just wondering if you could do another plus sized little reader but this time with Bucky? And she’s really embarrassed about being at the park because she gets hurt and so does peter but he gets picked up and she’s worried she can’t be picked up and snuggled because she’s too big and she’s just sad but then Bucky comes in and picks her up and reassures her that she’s still little and that he’s strong and that he still thinks she’s a little? Maybe she’s pretending to not be a little because she’s big again like you did in the last story but Bucky knows better and gives her a sweet band aid? Sorry this is so long you don’t have to do it! Have a good day!!!!!!!!

It's okay, Baby.

Warnings - Talks of swing accident, talks of scrapes, band aids are used, as well as ointment, there's a talk of snacks at the end, and both Bucky and Y/n have a habit of sneaking around each others apartments.

Notes - It's been so long again since I've written something, but I hope you love this anon! Thank you for the request, and I promise you did a great job requesting!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

The park at the compound was huge, it had tons of slides, climbing areas, and more. It was the coolest place Y/n had ever seen. As her friends played some imagination game, running around across the wooden plank bridge and sliding down the fireman's pole, she sat on the bench with the bunch of caregivers.

Y/n hadn't identified as either little or caregiver when she showed up to the compound a year ago. She had gotten rude comments and mean looks in the past when she told people she was a little. And she wasn't ready to see what those she lived with might have to say.

Everyone on the playground was small, pickupable, even if they were tall, and it made her feel like she didn't belong by the side of her smaller friends in a smaller headspace. "Y/n!" Peter yelled, hanging off of the rope swing waving her over. "Push me!" He giggled, swinging his legs as he tried to get some air.

Y/n smiled as she walked over, pushing down the bit of her that wanted to be pushed on a swing too. "How high?" She asked, giving peter a few pushes, only ever getting "Higher" as a response.

"Wait!" Y/n could hear someone say from the playground, she turned to check it out but before she could see who had yelled Peter and the tire swing swung back and knocked her on her feet.

Both her and peter were laid on the mulch, scrapes from the wood gracing their hands, tears trailing down both their cheeks. "I'm so sorry!" Peter cried, missing one shoe.

"It's my fault, I wasn't looking." Y/n tried to smile, tried to not slip into her little headspace as she often did when hurt. "I didn' mean to!" She sobbed, her pain bearable but her worry for peter making her chest squeeze.

Tony and MJ walked over to peter, Tony picking him up and MJ checking his ankle to make sure it wasn't hurt.

Y/n stayed seated, tears still dripping down her cheeks as she tried to will herself to stand up and walk away, but the aching in her chest as she watched Peter be worried over made her feel worse. "It's okay, Baby." Bucky said quietly, approaching her like she was an animal ready to run at the first sign of danger. "You got a couple of owies, huh?" Bucky squatted down, now level with Y/n.

"'M fine Buck." She tried her hardest to sound big, to sound put together.

"You're bleeding, Baby." Bucky helped her stand, brushing the mulch off of her before he looked over her hands. "Let's go get these cleaned up, hm?" He asked, waiting for Y/n to agree.

Y/n wasn't sure what was happening, or why Bucky was acting so sweet and kind to her. And she couldn't get his use of 'Owie' out of her head. But she felt hazy, not sure if she could stay big too much longer, her hands stinging more and more as the minutes passed.

The moment she nodded her head in agreement Bucky picked her up, one arm acting as a seat for her, Y/n's arms quickly wrapping around his neck. "Bucky!" She squealed as he walked them towards the compound. "'m too heavy, put me down!"

"I feel offended, Baby." Bucky chuckled, not out of breath or even slightly winded as he held her close. "I'm a super soldier, I can carry you no problem."

Y/n tried her best to think of a comeback, think of something to say to make him understand that her being picked up wasn't right. Yet the warmth his arms and body gave her, and the few forehead kisses he planted on her forehead as he walked made her disputes die the moment she thought of them.

"Okay." Bucky whispered, walking into his room then his bathroom, turning on the light before setting Y/n on the counter. "Let's get these hands patched up, okay?" Y/n nodded her head absentmindedly.

"T'anks." She said in a quiet voice, hands held out as Bucky cleaned her scrapes. "'m sorry for falling."

"Look at me, Baby." Bucky said, his hand resting under her chin. "You didn't do anything wrong, you just looked away for a second, it's okay, sometimes little's get distracted." He said calmly, quickly getting back to dabbing ointment on her hands.

"'m not a little!" Y/n said defensively.

"Y/n." Bucky looked her in the eyes. "Do you want a regular band aid? Or a princess one?" His words were said with a serious tone, and the look in his eyes made Y/n think he would definitely know if she lied.

"Princess Band aid." She pouted, hating that he saw through her. "Bu' maybe I jus' like princesses." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I know you like princesses, you have Princess blankets, and princess barbies, you also have a princess stuffie that you hide behind your bookshelf." Bucky said nonchalantly.

"How do you know all of 'dat?" She shook her head, looking at Bucky confused.

"I snoop when you go to the bathroom when we have movie nights in your room." He shrugged.

"Dat's creeping, Buck." Y/n giggled.

"Where do I hide my favorite gum?"

"The top shelf of the cupboard beside your fridge!" She cheered.

"Yes you creep, you know that because you sneak around when we have movie night here." He tickled her sides, making her giggle and forget all about her scraped hands.

"Okay, we can be creep buddies den." She held out her pinky.

"Creep buddies." He smiles, linking his pinky with hers, helping her off the counter, promising to turn on her favorite Princess movie if she had a snack. With the way Y/n giggled and smiled and seemed to come out of her shell, Bucky knew that he and Little Y/n would get along just fine.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #age regression fic #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky

[lucysarah-c]

Question: for Virgin! Canon Levi; how do you think that would go down? Like full blown sex one night? Taking it slow over time? Just how do you think reader would need to navigate it with him? Slow burn / build up, a passionate night, tipsy reader?

This is assuming Levi and Reader’s emotions are confirmed for each other

Hiiiii~~ How are you? What have you been up to lately?

Haha, honestly, I'm not entirely sure what caused this full blow-up of questions, but I'm kinda loving it.

Mhh, I think my answer depends a lot on two factors: "Levi's age" and "the experience of the reader." I know you said Canon Levi, but I wonder if you mean canon season 1-4 Levi, Underground Levi, pre-promotion Levi, etc. haha

I'll conclude that you meant "canon season 1-3" Levi. While I personally don't headcanon Captain Levi as a virgin during the "overall" period of AoT (I mean, since season 1, not ACWNR or Underground Levi), I think his reaction depends a lot on how much experience the reader has. Levi strikes me as one of those friends/partners who loves you, cares about you, etc., but hardly ever talks about themselves. In my humble opinion, even if Levi has feelings for you and you two decide to pursue a relationship together, it may take him a lot of time to open up about his past. I mean, this man gets along with Hange amazingly in the story; Isayama says that Hange is who "understands" or "gets along better with Levi," and yet Hange didn't know about Kenny.

So this may be a wild take… but I think Levi wouldn't tell you it's his first time, lmao. He may try to play it cool; you might notice he's not the most "skilled" dude out there ('cause let me tell you, no amount of Ackerman powers makes you seem experienced, lol), but he's not telling you it's his first time. Which, you know, everybody is entitled to their past. Perhaps if the reader is also a virgin and she opens up emotionally like, "It's my first time," Levi would feel she's opening up to him, and he would feel it's a good time to be honest too and be like, "Well… it's mine too, so I guess we will figure it out as we go."

About "how" it would be, I think the reader would have to set the tempo. Most men are READY to blow off some steam if you give them a chance, haha, so if the reader is also a virgin and they kinda want to test the waters before going all the way, Levi would be down for it, especially because it will give him time to catch a trick or two, learn what she likes.

I think that porn or movies make us believe how "sex" usually happens, and I mean, talking from my experience and my friends' experiences… none of us went from 0 to 10. Like, we kiss, we make out, then maybe we got a little handy, then riding on top of clothes, oral sex, fingers, etc. Especially because maybe you don't have your own place to crash at, maybe you two would like to talk it out before it happens. Buy condoms, get ready, etc.

Now, if you are curious how I think Underground Levi would decide to lose his V-card while younger… probably rather quick, steamy, and not giving it much thought, haha. He'd let the hormones talk and make decisions for him. In both occasions, I don't think he made the girl cum before him, which is something that happens a lot; we women are harder to please, it requires more technique than men who… well, let's say that they come rather easily, lol. BUT he will 100% offer to make her cum anyway, with fingers or mouth. Levi will be such a fast learner, give him a chance or two, and he will pick it up like a champ.

Though why can't I shake the idea of a younger Levi in the underground in his 18s, having something with a girl slightly older than him, perhaps 20, etc. And her saying between chuckles, "Slow down, boy."

God, I would pay to see his blushed, embarrassed face.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme @galactict3a Wanna join my tag list? Here!

#aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #levi #snk #captain levi #levi aot #snk levi #attack on titans #lucy answers #levi x reader #levi x y/n #aot levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackeman #levi attack on titan #captain levi ackerman x you #captain levi x reader #captian levi x reader #captain levi ackerman x y/n #captain levi x you #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman x female!reader #levi smut #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman smut

[tosomeonessomeone]

Duo

words・ 2.1k /pairings・ Bang Chan x reader / genres・ fluff / warnings・ none

A spacious meeting room crackled with anticipation in the heart of the JYP Entertainment building. Seated at the head of the table, JYP himself beamed with enthusiasm, introducing you, an internationally acclaimed visual artist, to the members of Stray Kids. "Everyone, I'm thrilled to have [your name] here with us. She's an incredible visual artist known for her unique aesthetic," JYP announced, gesturing towards you.

You expressed your excitement, "Thank you, JYP. I'm thrilled to collaborate with such a talented group." The members of Stray Kids turned their attention, curiosity, and excitement evident in their expressions. Standing beside JYP, Bang Chan welcomed you warmly, "Hey, [your name], glad to have you on board." You acknowledged with a smile, "Thank you, Bang Chan. I'm honored to be a part of this project."

JYP set the stage for the collaboration: "Now, I've brought [your name] on board to collaborate with all of you on the aesthetics for your upcoming album. Her vision will bring a new dimension to the visual storytelling of Stray Kids." Felix chimed in, expressing his anticipation: "That sounds awesome! I can't wait to see what we create together."

Han asked, "So, [your name], any hints about what you have in mind for us?" You shared your vision, "Well, I was thinking of exploring a fusion of vibrant colors and abstract elements to reflect the dynamic energy of your music." Seungmin approved, "That sounds intriguing. I'm all for it!"

JYP concluded, "Great! Let's make this collaboration one for the books. Now, let the creative discussions begin."

As the meeting wrapped up, the stage was set for a creative journey that would redefine not only Stray Kids' visual identity but also the connection forged between you and the members in the artistic tapestry of their new album.

As days went by, the collaboration unfolded between you, an acclaimed visual artist, and Stray Kids, creating a masterpiece in the making. The studio walls resonated with beats and melodies as their music production set the backdrop, guiding the strokes of your creative vision.

One night in particular, the studio was alive with the rhythmic pulse of Stray Kids' latest track, each beat resonating through the air. You were seated among the members, your eyes focused on the speakers while your mind translated the music and dance into vibrant images. Excitement filled the room as ideas flowed freely.

Lee Know nudged you. "What do you think of this beat? It's like nothing we've done before."

You smiled. "It's incredible. I can already see a visual story unfolding with this rhythm. Maybe we can play with contrasting colors to highlight the dynamic shifts."

Chanbin nodded. "That sounds cool. Let's experiment with that."

The collaborative energy was palpable as everyone contributed their thoughts, blending the worlds of music and visual art seamlessly. As the night progressed, members excused themselves, leaving you and Bang Chan engrossed in refining the visual concept.

Bang Chan leaned back. "It's amazing how your ideas add a new layer to our music. I feel like we're creating something special."

You expressed gratitude. "Likewise, your music is so inspiring; it's like a canvas waiting to be painted."

Hours slipped away, and it became apparent that the two of you shared a dedication that extended beyond the project. Others left the studio, leaving just you and Bang Chan surrounded by the quiet hum of creativity.

Bang Chan leaned against the mixing desk. "We've been working together so closely, and I just realized we're '97 liners. That's pretty cool, huh?"

Smirking, you replied, "It is. No wonder we click so well. It's like there's an unspoken understanding between us."

Bang Chan smiled. "Maybe it's the '97 connection. We should celebrate being part of the same year."

You both laughed and in that shared moment of realization, the connection between you two deepened. The conversation flowed effortlessly, not just about the project but about life, dreams, and the shared experiences of growing up in the same era.

As the months unfolded, your collaboration with Bang Chan evolved into a friendship beyond the studio walls. The dynamic energy of Stray Kids' music parallels the camaraderie blossoming between all of you.

One evening, after a productive day in the studio, the group decided to grab dinner together. The casual outing marked the beginning of a tradition; over time, it became a regular occurrence. The laughter and shared stories flowed effortlessly, creating a tapestry of memories that linked you to each member.

As the bond deepened, you and Bang Chan found yourselves spending more time together outside of work. The formalities of addressing each other by your professional titles gave way to the comfort of first names. Christopher became "Chris" in a moment of fondness; he bestowed upon you a playful nickname that echoed through the group.

Chris shot you a sly grin, "From now on, you're officially 'Peanut.' It suits you."

You burst into laughter, loving the vibe. "Alright, Chris, Peanut it is."

Chris, still grinning, leaned in, "Perfect! Now, you've got a nickname that fits."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Fits, maybe. Legendary? Doubtful. So, do I get to give you a nickname in return?"

Chris leaned back, totally up for it, "Oh, you're up for the challenge? Bring it on, Peanut."

You thought momentarily, then smirked, "How about 'Captain Crunch'? Because you're the leader of this ship."

Chris erupted into laughter, "Captain Crunch, huh? Not bad, not bad at all. I can get behind that."

The nickname banter kept going, each name more ridiculous and hilarious. It became a symbol of the easy camaraderie that defined your friendship.

The banter continued as the night rolled on, and the group found themselves in fits of laughter. Stray Kids, a family on and off the stage, reveled in the shared moments that solidified their bond.

Seungmin teasingly chimed in, "Peanut and Captain Crunch are the duo we never knew we needed."

Felix nodded, "The legends of nicknames! You guys should start a business."

The vibe stayed playful, turning even the most mundane topics into sources of amusement. The inside jokes and shared laughter became the glue that held your tight-knit group together.

Later, as you all split, Chris pulled you aside.

Chris, still grinning, said, "Captain Crunch, it's been a great night. Let's do it again soon." You chuckled, "Count on it, Peanut. The nicknames will keep coming."

The shift in your relationship didn't go unnoticed. Stray Kids' members and fans began to pick up on the growing closeness. The term "power couple" started circulating among the fans, playfully acknowledging the unique chemistry within the group.

Seungmin teased, "(teasingly) Looks like Peanut and Chris are taking over the world." Felix grinned in response, "(grinning) The power couple vibes are real!"

The Stays, known for their keen observation skills, passionately shipped the friendship between you and Chris, filling social media with playful comments and fan art. This transformed your collaborative project into a shared narrative extending beyond the studio and stage.

Inside jokes and shared glances fueled speculation even during fan meetings and events. The bond between you and Chris became a topic of affectionate banter, firmly rooting the power couple narrative in the hearts of fans and within the close-knit circle of Stray Kids.

Lee Know chimed in, "(grinning) Hey, [Your Name], make sure you keep up with us. You're hanging out with the young and wild crowd now." You rolled your eyes with a smile, replying, "Young and wild? I can handle that."

Chanbin smirked, "Bang Chan is practically ancient compared to us. And now you're here too. Are we forming a seniors' club?" Chris laughed, "(laughing) Watch it, Chanbin. I may be a bit older, but I can still outdance you any day."

The banter continued, creating an atmosphere where age was merely a number, and the shared laughter became the universal language. You embraced the teasing with good humor, occasionally firing back with playful retorts.

Han grinned, "(grinning) [Your Name], I bet you were around when dinosaurs roamed the earth, right?"

You said, "Well, I did attend their farewell party."

Seungmin smirked, "(smirking) It's like having two older siblings. You and Chris are the wise elders guiding us through the chaos."

You chuckled, "Wise elders? I'll take that as a compliment."

Far from being a source of discomfort, the age jokes became a bonding ritual that reinforced the sense of family within Stray Kids. The members teasingly dubbed themselves the "young and reckless" crew while you and Chris took on the roles of the seasoned mentors.

Even the Stays, ever vigilant and participative, joined in on the fun, creating memes and fan art that playfully exaggerated the age difference. The fans affectionately dubbed you and Chris the "Eternal Youth Duo," embracing the humor and warmth that defined your connection with Stray Kids.

In the heart of Seoul, amidst the bustling city, your private art studio became a haven for creativity during the collaborative project with Stray Kids. With long days in the recording studio and nights spent perfecting the visual aesthetics, the studio transformed into a shared space for art, music, and genuine camaraderie.

Han, Chanbin, and Bang Chan, the Stray Kids' producing trio, often found solace in your art studio. The walls adorned with your vibrant creations provided a backdrop for their brainstorming sessions and moments of relaxation. Hyunjin, with his passion for the arts, joined the mix, creating a dynamic environment where creativity flowed freely.

Bang Chan, in particular, often lingered after the others had left. His supportive presence became a constant in the studio, where the echoes of music and art intertwined. As you painted, he would sit nearby, offering encouraging words and genuine admiration for your work.

Sitting on a stool nearby, Bang Chan observed your latest work in progress, his eyes tracing the delicate strokes, appreciating the intricacy of your art.

He remarked softly, "You know, every brushstroke tells a story. Your art has this unique way of capturing emotions."

You smiled in response, "Thanks, Chan. Sometimes it feels like I'm chasing perfection, and I get frustrated when it falls short."

Nodding understandingly, Bang Chan replied, "I get that. The struggle to create something that truly resonates can be overwhelming. But trust me, what you're doing is already extraordinary."

As the conversation shifted, you found comfort in the shared vulnerability. Bang Chan opened up about his challenges in the studio—finding the right beat and crafting lyrics that resonated. The exchange became a dance of mutual understanding, where the struggles of art and music were laid bare.

You gently remarked, "It's funny, you know? I see you as this incredible producer who effortlessly weaves music, yet you also face moments of doubt."

Smiling, Bang Chan replied, "The creative process is a journey, and every artist, no matter how experienced, has moments of uncertainty. It's what makes the final creation so special."

The intimacy of the conversation deepened, the vulnerability weaving a bond that transcended the boundaries of collaboration. As you both faced the challenges of your respective crafts, the studio became a sanctuary for shared struggles and triumphs.

Reassuringly, Bang Chan said, "We're in this together, [Your Name]. Your art inspires me, just like I hope our music inspires you."

You replied gratefully, "Likewise, Chan. Let's keep creating, even when it feels like we're stumbling in the dark. Maybe that's where the most beautiful things come to light."

The shared understanding lingered in the air, turning the art studio into a cocoon of creativity and companionship. In those intimate moments, the struggles transformed into stepping stones, paving the way for artistic excellence and a connection that resonated beyond the strokes of a brush or the beats of a song.

After weeks of intense work in the warm glow of your art studio, the air filled with the comforting scent of paint, Bang Chan sat, his expression clouded with frustration. Lyrics eluded him, and doubt cast shadows on his usually confident demeanor.

Noticing his struggle, you set aside your brushes and walked over to him, reassuringly touching his shoulder.

"Hey, Chan, it's okay," you said softly. "Everyone faces creative blocks. You're a brilliant producer, and this moment of uncertainty doesn't define you."

Bang Chan sighed, looking up at you with gratitude. "I appreciate the support, [Your Name]. Sometimes, it just feels like I'm not doing enough."

You smiled. "You've created incredible music, Chan. Remember the impact you've had on people's lives. You're not just a producer but an amazing human being."

Your sincerity sparked a warmth in Bang Chan's eyes. The term "power couple" that fans playfully threw around seemed to carry new weight, and he was struck by the realization of the connection you shared.

"You know, [Your Name], we make a pretty good team," he reflected.

Smirking, you replied, "They're not wrong about that."

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[gretaswhore28]

Okay SO

I’m having a thought about folio right now because he is heavy on the brain. So you go with him because he wanted to go fishing. You bring your hammock with you since you don’t really feel like fishing/don’t like fishing. So he’s got his waders on and is out in the water doing his thing. You’re laying in you hammock either napping, watching him or reading the book you brought with you.

He’s got a chair set up next to it for when he wants to take a break or needs to redo his line if it breaks or got caught on got caught on something and he had to cut it. But he’d come up and check in on you, asking how your book is, if you’d want more water or a snack from the cooler. He doesn’t really care that you’re not fishing (although he’d be ecstatic if you did fish with him thought), he’s just happy that you came with him. He likes knowing he can look over to the shoreline whenever he wants and you’re there. He smiles if he sees you’re up and about and you’ve got your feet in the water just watching him that way. After a few more casts he’d walk over to you and give you a kiss or two. Maybe three if he feels a little needy. You’ll make him take a longer break and get him a beer from the cooler as well as a water so he can go between the two.

Then later in the evening, when you’re both a little burnt from not being the best at reapplying sunscreen, you’ll pack up and stop for dinner and some ice cream on the way home. He has the windows rolled down and his hand on your thigh as his music is playing. In moments like that he feels so fulfilled and happy. He has the person he loves the most as well as having had a day spent with them and doing something he loves. It’s one of the best looks he has in your opinion. When he’s happy and a little burnt with his freckles coming through a bit more because of it. Just completely relaxed and at peace with everything.

When you do get home, you take a shower together. Taking turns washing the other’s hair. Helping each other soap up. He tries to put your hair in weird styles while there’s shampoo in it and he just lets out one of those belly laughs that you love so much. When you’re both done and changed into comfy clothes for bed, you’ll have one more drink while in the kitchen. He’ll obviously turn his music back on and just pull you close to him and just lazily dance with you. He covers you in kisses to hear you giggle then says thank you for coming with him. You just kiss him in response and tell him you had fun. You spend a little longer in the kitchen together then head up to bed around midnight or so. The two of you fall asleep with you laying on his chest and his arm around you. His free hand holding yours that rests on him.

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