#where do I even BEGIN there's so much to say!!!!

[amaranthineghost]

FLOWERS FOR THE 'TOTALLY-A-COUPLE' FRIENDS

oscar piastri x reader

when two friends visit the market and, upon seeing free flowers being given out to couples, they decide to pretend to date for the sake of free flowers. when they end up liking the idea of pretending to be together, they end up wondering why they need to pretend to begin with.

credit to @foreveralbon for the idea!!!! <333

authors note: this was so fun to make!!! i really wanted to make something for oscar and totally stole this idea from liyah (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) so I finally have an imagine for oscar yay!!!

SOMETIMES IT’S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO PRETEND. pretend they’re fighting, pretend while playing games, pretend they’re racing against traffic, pretend they don’t really like each other more than friends.

they pretend they’re dating for the sake of free flowers from a random guy in a market that they visited as friends because they are friends. they are friends. it’s totally normal, totally completely normal for friends to do such things.

it was as simple as that.

at least it was before it all happened because now they didn’t know if they were just pretending anymore or if they had dropped the act hours ago. was it all really that simple now?

it was a clear day in oscar’s hometown and what better way to spend such a beautiful day off than in the company of his good, even best, friend at a market down the street from where he grew up. considering she hadn’t grown up in the area he had, he wanted to show her around all the classic spots that he used to frequent with his mum as a little kid.

well, now he felt like his mum when she used to drag him to all the corner stores or street markets in the blazing sun and smudge sunscreen on his face, except now it’s with her. his best friend, and only his friend and nothing more because his mother was convinced he was smitten. he always denied it.

but everyone could see the way he looked at her whenever he smiled, how she would be the first person he looked to when he laughed at a joke someone else made.

everyone knew except for them, it was painfully obvious that they both felt more for each other than they allowed, and they were painfully oblivious.

the walk on grass, through the bustling market, was relaxing with hands to their sides and their shoulders constantly touching. every so often, they'd look away with red faces and awkward smiles as their hands just barely grazed each other’s skin, but they never closed that gap. it had been happening for months and their friends were clawing at their eyes just waiting for it to happen.

but they weren't here to push them together, just the two friends walking past different stalls of clothes, antiques, accessories, and other various items.

a light breeze blew her hair into her face, causing the constant sputtering of lips as strands stuck to her lip gloss.

of course, in true friend fashion, he laughed every time at her struggles with taming her hair, telling her without fail, “you should really put your hair up, it'll only keep getting in your face.”

she scoffed at him as he pulled strands from her face and futilely attempted to tuck them behind her ears as they blew back into her face.

“i don't think i even have a hair tie,” she whined as she pulled her hair back but couldn't tie it up.

“oh, wait, i do,” he remembered the band on his wrist, years of being friends meant carrying hair ties around for the girl because she wouldn't.

she gasped softly, taking it from his hand that held it flat on his palm, muttering “oh my god, osc, i love you so much, thank you,” she rambled under her breath, “not going to question why you even have it.”

a smile graced his face, completely tuning out her last words at the nickname she had called him. it made his heart flutter every time.

the words ‘i love you’ had been said constantly throughout their friendship that it was second nature at this point. to them, it was just a simple sentence they threw around, though the saying became more and more frequent in the past few months.

maybe it was their way of getting to say their feelings in a disguised, double-meaning phrase that wouldn't confuse what they were.

oh, but it did.

at this point, the words ‘i like you’ held deeper values because it told them how they really felt, but they would never say it. they could've rehearsed it in their heads for days, weeks, or months on end just at the end of the day to say the thing that felt safest. i love you.

he simply muttered back in admiration, “you're welcome.” a smile played on his lips for the longest time, the more he looked at her, the warmer and fuzzier he felt his heart become.

maybe his mum was right.

he shook his head internally. no, she couldn't be. but as he looked at the girl, in such deep admiration like she was the only thing to have ever existed in his life before, he wasn't so sure.

he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as they continued on walking. the breeze had calmed, and her hair was safely tied up and out of her face. back to grazing hands ever so slightly and arms rubbing against each other caused goosebumps to line their skin.

it was cold, they said to play it off as they looked in opposite directions. the more time passed, the more they hung out, the more excuses they made, and the more awkward it became.

the awkward silence between the pair, birds chirping and other monotonous conversations were the only thing heard until a deep voice called from somewhere up ahead of the crowd.

she stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of other people while he made no effort to because he already could.

“guy’s handing out free flowers,” oscar started before pausing and looking at her, “for couples.” he scratched his neck again.

she exhaled sharply, “we could totally pull off being a couple,” she slowed down to the side and stood in front of him. he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a racing heart.

“you think?” he tilted his head with thought, pursing his lips, “free flowers are free flowers.”

“exactly,” she said in a intellectual tone, holding her hand out for him to grab, “what do you say?”

he thought for a moment. at least he acted like he did because he would've grabbed her hand in a heartbeat, but he couldn't make it obvious.

“alright,” he agreed, hesitantly interlacing their fingers together, “but if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we can stop.”

she rolled her eyes, turning back walking into the crowd, now with his hand interlocked with hers at their sides, “yeah, yeah.”

but he pulled her back before she could slip into the crowd, bumping back against his arm, “promise me, you'd say something.”

she paused, and sighed, “i promise, okay, let's go,” she pulled him along, feeling his slight resistance while dragging him because he thought I'd be fun to see her struggle.

when she gave him a look when she turned her head, only then did he follow alongside her.

the guy handing out the free flowers wasn't too far from them, considering how loud he was when they first heard him.

when they first approached him, they could tell he was skeptical. for some odd reason, they didn't fit the image of a couple. it didn't mean they didn't suit each other, they did by all means look amazing side by side, but he knew. somehow he knew.

maybe it was the way they looked so naïve, how they stood with space still between them, or the nervous energy they put out. either way, he didn't believe them.

“kiss then,” the guy shrugged, causing the ‘couple’ to look at each other confused. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth to say something when he spoke first, “if you're really a couple, just kiss. not that big of a deal.” 

it wasn't like they were uncomfortable with what he was asking. oscar was just unsure how she felt about it, meanwhile she didn't care. deep inside, she was nervous because they're just friends, they've never held hands—until now—let alone kiss.

though once she noticed oscar's hesitancy to make a move, she knew she would have to be the one to do so. she didn't give him time to react, hand around the back on his neck to pull him down to her level and his chapped lips met her glossy ones. his hand ravelled its way into her tied hair, messing up the perfectness she had.

she tasted sweet, the gloss on her lips transferring to his before she pulled away less than a second later. his lips were pinker with the blood rushing to his face.

the guy was smug and satisfied, handing them the bouquet they just kissed—as friends—for.

by the time they had walked away, still no words had been exchanged between the pair. their faces still flushed red and their lips left pink and glossy. every glance in the others direction led to them looking the opposite way. they hadn't processed the fact their arms were interlinked now as Oscar held the flowers in his other hand.

he cleared his throat, prompting her looking at him as he held them out to her, “here.”

her lips parted as she stuttered over what words to say, “are you sure?”

he furrowed his brows, “yeah, why wouldn't i be?”

she nodded, “right, yeah.” she took them from his grasp. she looked at then how oscar looked at her, but maybe it was because oscar had given them to her.

she felt fuzzy, she felt a smile creep into her face as she smelled the flowers. her heart was pounding in her chest. she liked the idea of this fake dating thing, but she didnt imagine the length it would go to in such a short amount of time after she proposed the idea.

maybe she only liked the idea of pretending to be together because it was the closest thing she had to actually being with him.

they remained in silence for the whole walk back to his car, she still clutched the flowers with almost both hands. his hand still laced with hers as she held the bouquet against her body. they only separated as they went to their respective sides of the car, carefully getting in before buckling their seat belts.

the drive was silent, even the volume for the radio hadn't been turned up, only the air conditioning could be heard. it was like that for a while as he drove her back to his house because they'd made the plan to hang out afterwards. he thought it would be rude to change routes and drop her back at her house.

when they arrived, they sat in the car, unmoving in silence.

“do you want to talk about it?” his voice was uneven, and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, not until the silence consumed them again did he turn his head.

“i mean—there's nothing to talk about really,” she shrugged, unsure of what to say as she bit on her lip, “we were just—pretending, right?”

she turned in her seat to look at him, and he nodded, “right, so just friends.”

“right,” she repeated in confirmation, nodding along as they both looked ahead again.

she hesitated. she realized things had already changed between them, their dynamic had shifted and it wasn't going to be the same. it wasn't going back so if she was going to do any more potential damage, she knew now would be the time.

“but—i guess i didn't mind it,” she muttered under her breath, causing him to gaze across at her, “the fake dating, I mean.”

“really?” he questioned, hand gripping the wheel despite the fact they were stationary.

“i mean, it was fun while it lasted,” she finally met eyes with him, fidgeting with her hands as she pursed her lips, “i enjoyed it.”

“the fake dating?”

“the kiss.”

he only nodded, thinking deeply in his head, but on her end, she thought she majorly fucked up whatever they could've salvaged from before. now they couldn't.

truthfully, he just had no words. the kiss had given him a different perspective because now he was longing to kiss her again, to feel and taste the lip gloss on his lips that came from hers.

it was like every feeling he had ever felt for her was pushed to the very forward part of his brain and refused to be put away again.

“i enjoyed it too.” he muttered so quietly, she nearly didn't hear him.

but when she had finally registered the words, a smile cracked her serious face and she looked at oscar, “really?” her voice was high and so unsure.

he only nodded in confirmation as she melted back into the car seat, smiling giddily as if she hadn't been waiting for this.

“hey,” he spoke softly, still gazing at her with eyes of admiration she only saw now, “i guess—it doesn't have to be pretend.” he shrugged.

“are you saying what i think you're saying, piastri?” she leaned back and watched him roll his eyes, only pulled in by oscar's hand on the back of her neck to make her meet him in the middle above the center console. he felt her lips smile against his which caused him to as well. it was infectious.

he cradled her face in his hand, this second kiss lasted much longer than the first, and it marked the end of their long-lived friendship and short-lived pretend dating, but marked the hopefully long-term relationship that had now sparked between the two.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @poppyflower-22 @thearchieves @beskardroids @lorenica @hiireadstuff @delululeclerc

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

#formula 1 #formula 1 drivers #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri #osc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri au #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81 x you #op81 angst #f1 #lando #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine

[wordsbyrian]

Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTok’s together and being otp x

A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.

TikTok is the bane of your very existence.

It’s the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.

And in your personal life?

Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.

The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.

The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phone’s camera so she could show off what you were wearing.

That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).

It didn’t really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, it’d be filmed.

A literal walk in the park. TikTok.

You driving. TikTok.

You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although she’d been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).

You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.

Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.

And if having your every move recorded wasn’t bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.

Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).

Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower  and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.

Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.

The list is neverending.

Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen  with her phone out but you’re too focused on chopping the vegetables you’ll be using in your meal prep.

 “Baby,” she says.

“Hmm?”

“Can we record a TikTok?”

“Can I keep doing what I’m doing,” you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.

“You don’t need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,” Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. “And answer questions,” she adds as an afterthought.

You roll your eyes but don’t make any additional comments as you see her hit record.

“So a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,” Mary says, looking directly at the camera. “And I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?”

Admittedly, you hadn’t really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words ‘allergies’ and ‘professional chef’, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.

“My main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since I’m one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,” you pause, “wait, what did you just call me?”

You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.

“What? Babe?”

Mary’s playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.

“Not that, the other thing.”

“What my wife,” she asks.

A cheeky grin breaks out on Mary’s face as she watches even more color rush to your face.

For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Mary’s amusement.)

“Yup, that.”

As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I have to find my wallet and keys,” you shoot back.

“Why?”

“I gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!”

The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.

The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.

A photo of the ring on Mary’s finger goes up just a few hours before.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #muwfc imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #muwfc x reader

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

I Loved Him But... - LN

Summary: A year ago, y/n was engaged to Charles. But now she's dating Lando and after is spotted she running into Charles in Monaco but didn't mention it to Lando. Rumours and theories begin to creep in, but does Lando trust her when she says there's nothing there anymore?

Toxic ex-fiancé!Charles - reader tries really hard to be a peacemaker

No part 2 requests please

No one really knows what cause the split up between Charles and y/n. They kept it private and Lando never wanted to poke because he seemed insensitive to ask.

Charles and y/n had dated for 3 years before Charles proposed and the within 3 months of the engagement the whole relationship was called off. Public statements asking for privacy and respect towards both of them were made.

Though when y/n started being spotted with Max and Lando on nights out in Monaco and then eventually with Lando much more often, the respect and privacy was tossed out the window.

They've been together for the better part of a year now, and while some fans have settled down about the pair. A lot are still unhappy. Some are even just unhappy because they want her to get back together with Charles.

Plus y/n rarely looks at him never mind speaks to him, at least when Lando is around.

"Alright, I'm going to get my nails done and maybe grab some stuff from the shop. Do you want anything?" Y/n asks as Lando sits at his PC.

"No. I think I'm alright." Lando smiles earning a grin as she leans over and kisses him.

"Just text me if you do think of anything." Y/n nods as Lando grabs her hand kissing it smiling when he watches her grin at him for the sweet gesture.

-

Y/n took longer than she meant to but she took longer picking her nails than she meant to and after bumping into Charles which turned into a much longer conversation than she expected, she found herself at the store buying only comfort food.

But as soon as she gets back to Lando's apartment the sick feeling that had pitted in her stomach disappears when Lando heard the door and seemed to rush towards her like an excited puppy.

"Hey, I was wondering where you got to." Lando smiles earning a smile as he takes the bags and kisses her cheek. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, just sort of bought a load of stuff to make myself fat." Y/n shrugs watching him tsk and shake his head. "What?"

"You're allowed to eat whatever you want, it's just going to make you instantly fat and even if it did. Who cares?" Lando questions which only makes her snort a laugh. "What?"

"Lando...come on, you spend your life making sure you're fit and healthy. Are you telling me if I doubled-or tripled my weight you'd want to be with me?" Y/n laughs as he places the bags down on the counter and she tips out the contents of the bags. "You think all this is ok to eat in one sitting."

"Hey-I'm not dating you for your body and even if I was, the more of it the better." Lando states grabbing her waist. "As long as there's no threat to it being so bad that doctors are saying you're going to die and leave me...I don't care."

The serious expression and frown makes her realise he's actually annoyed at the suggestion and she softens a little.

"Alright, I believe you." Y/n mumbles before kissing him quickly. "In that case, you can enjoy watching me binge my way through all this."

"Can I have some?"

"Mmm....ok-but only if you let me have a pamper night with you." Y/n pouts making him sigh as if he doesn't absolutely live for the nights where she fusses over him, putting all her expensive skincare and hair products on him, especially since most of the time he gets to set terms of her being as little clothing as possible as part of the criteria.

"I guess I can agree to that." Lando hums with a grin before pulling her close into a kiss.

-

The photos and videos went viral but Lando didn't find out till a padel match with Alex, George and Max (can't stop thinking about them as little padel pals since Alex posted that TikTok of them).

"So what was Charles and y/n having coffee about?" Alex asks as they unpack the step onto the court.

"Yeah, I was going to ask. When I saw the video I thought it was old but then some fans posted pictures of him with them-"

"Stalker much Max?" George jokes earning a look from the champion. "But I saw that too. Is everything alright between the two of you?"

"Yeah...It was just coffee." Lando shrugs making the three other drivers exchange a look. "Are we playing or gossiping? Because I can go home to my girlfriend and hear about all the gossip I don't care about from her if that's the case."

Lando tries to cover his bad mood following the discovery that y/n was with Charles and hadn't even mentioned it.

After the match with the boys, he gets on his phone and it takes all of 5 seconds of scrolling to find not only the videos that the boys were talking about but edits of fans wishing for the two to be reconciling. Even edits of her and Lando before some switch up to Charles and y/n calling them the better couple and the IT couple.

He can't even pretend that doesn't sting.

-

Lando never ends up mentioning the fact he knows, instead he lets his emotions fester until the next race weekend and when he's walking back from the garage after his seat fitting. He finds y/n talking to Charles and the ugly possessive demon claws it's way to the surface.

"Hey, baby." Lando greets moving up to her and actually quite smoothly guiding her into a long kiss before he releases her and she looks slightly dazed and flustered over the gesture. "I was wondering where you were. Hey, mate. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, y/n and I were just talking." Charles nods making the younger driver nod.

"Anything important?"

"No." Charles smirks looking fairly cocky while y/n frowns at him. " I should go but it was good talking, y/n. We should go for coffee again."

He manages to kiss her cheek once before she places her hand on his chest and pushes him away still frowning as she reaches linking her hand to Lando's.

"Bye, Charles." Y/n frowns watching him walk away before sigh sighs and looks at Lando who is very much reflecting her expression but there's a calm rage behind his eyes. "Hey, are you ok?"

"Why were you talking to him?"

Y/n looks around notices there's some ears pricked at his question and probably have been watching them since before Lando even came out and joined the conversation.

"Can we go inside?" Y/n asks dodging the question till they've at least got some privacy. "Please?"

"No we can leave." Lando states pulling her towards the exit.

The drive to the hotel is awkward, silent and tense but neither want to say anything until they're actually in the privacy of the hotel room. Though y/n can't help but fiddle with her own hands nervously.

By the time they are in the hotel room y/n can feel the anger radiating off of Lando's body as he throws his jacket down and paces then looks at her.

"What's going on? Because first you go for coffee with him and don't tell me about it-don't even bring it up when it's all over the internet and it was obvious I knew! I have to deal with every fucking fan letting me know just how much better a fit you are with Charles and then you're out here talking to him while he's fucking cocky and smirking at me when I catch you." Lando shouts clearly seething, not so much at her but mainly pissed at Charles smugness and audacity to try and kiss her cheek.

Y/n lets Lando get everything out, knowing there's no point in trying to interrupt because he has a right to be mad.

"Y/n? Do you want to go back to him? Because I'd rather just know if I'm a ph-ase." Lando states and suddenly the heart break in his voice hits wobbling his voice as it breaks overcome with emotion.

"Lando...you are not a phase. And I am never going back to Charles. Ever." Y/n sighs shaking her head. "What Charles and I have-had was a toxic situation. He-He'd shame me for not being perfect, he wanted a build-a-wife and for a long time that's all I wanted to be for him. I loved him but the side of him he shows to the public is not what I got. But I don't want to have a public feud with him because I know whose side they would take and it wouldn't be mine, even if I gave them receipts."

"Then why-why are you going for coffee and not telling me then talking to him?" Lando stresses while y/n winces.

"Because it's hard to get out the mindset of just doing what someone wants for years...I lived for him for so long. When I bumped into him and he said lets get coffee I didn't know how else to handle it and it wasn't as if I was happy about it. Did you even watch the videos or look at the photos? The only person happy is him and it's because he thinks he's winning in his own way." Y/n states really hoping that Lando is understanding. "He practically chased me for conversation before you got there today-I don't want to talk to him but-but I can't bring myself to tell him to fuck off...it's harder than it sounds."

Lando deflates a little feeling his ache shift from self-pity to guilt over the fact he really thought y/n would be trying to return to Charles.

"You never told me about why things ended with Charles." Lando mumbles earning a sad smile.

"I know, and I should've but I just didn't want you to look at me like some...pathetic woman who got herself stuck in a situation and only got out because of Max's girlfriend."

"Kelly?"

"Yes...don't tell Max. He doesn't know. It happened over a triple header where you were all gone the whole time and when he found out I was staying at his place when he came back, things had already gone public with Charles and I'd break up and he was happy to have me." Y/n mutters then moving towards Lando and linking their hands. "I've never been as happy as I am with you and Charles has never and will never be a threat to us. Ever. And next time he tries to even come near me, I'll-I don't know I'll scream, run and find you to protect me away from his smug and cocky face."

"Yeah, I'll punch him right in the dimples." Lando smiles trying to lighten then mood which earns a small laugh. "I'm sorry for being an angry dickhead about it."

"No. I get it." Y/n smiles earning a sigh from the man.

"Doesn't make it right...and for the record I will never try to hold you into the perfect wife. If you ask the inevitable proposal from me, so long as you're by my side you're as perfect as I'm ever going to see you. No matter what changes you go through."

"Even if I triple in weight?"

"Even if you shrink to 2 foot tall because of some mystery illness-though if you turn pocket size I will have to start finding a way to sneak you in the cockpit so you never have to be away from me when I'm in the car."

"Might be hard to have sex if I'm pocket size."

"Well...I'd accept not having sex so long as I got to stay with you."

"Wow...that's true love. I suppose I could live without sex, but it's not got to that point yet has it?"

"No. Definitely not." Lando grins kissing her softly. "I'm still sorry for acting like that."

"No...I really should've talked about going to coffee. The whole time he just told me how I'd made a mistake leaving him and how you'd leave me when you realised how worthless I am."

"Are you sure I can't kill him?" Lando grumbles making her sigh and look at him with a deadpanned expression. "Fine, I'll just find a way to fuck up his race and force him out of it."

"Ok, so long as it doesn't cost you anything." Y/n hums with a slightly cheeky smile.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Lando spends every time y/n is at risk of coming across Charles making sure he has no chance of using that as an opportunity to upset her. Which means Charles never really gets a chance to talk to her anymore and even on the rare occasion he might see them in Monaco. Lando is always there just to make sure and while that might sound overprotective. Y/n would rather Lando always there than risk the chance of Charles feeling welcome enough to ruin things.

No one really comments, but they do notice that Charles and y/n's seemingly peaceful post-break up friendship had turned into no interactions at all. Lando won't even really stop to say anything more than hi to Carlos if Charles is nearby and y/n is with him.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris mclaren #f1 2024 #ln4 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris one shot #f1 imagine #ln4 one shot #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 fanfic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[bo0tleg]

One thing I like about Top Gun (1986) is how believable the development with Ice and Mav's dynamic is.

I've seen a lot of the "Rivals suddenly become buddies after traumatic event together" in media, but I don't think I've seen it done better than in Top Gun. Mostly, I attribute it to how much build up it has.

Most of the time, the 'Rivals' hate each others guts throughout the entire movie/series and then they go through an extremely traumatic event that binds them for life and shifts their entire concept of each other. Ice and Mav never once changed how they saw each other, it just changed their understanding of it.

Ice saw Maverick as dangerous and Mav saw Iceman as stuck-up and commanding. And they weren't wrong, by any means.

From the beginning, they have tension between them because of how different they are. And it ends up in the audience seeing Ice as the 'Antagonist' because that's how Mav sees it, and we're seeing it from his perspective as the protagonist. But Ice was never inherently wrong, in fact he was right.

Other than his first scene, Iceman always has a point in what he's saying. He's criticizing Mav, not insulting him. Sure, he does it in a brash way because masculinity, but he's not trying to insult him, he's trying to knock him down a peg and wake him up to reality. All Ice wants is that he starts to act as a team player, start caring about everybody's safety AND his own, rather than being reckless for the sake of being reckless. But Mav sees it as an insult because he can't process criticism in a healthy way (due to how he grew up). The same thing happened with Charlie, for the record.

And so the strife between the two begins. What I like about it is how it bleeds out of them over time, becoming more settled as the movie goes on. In the locker room "You're dangerous" scene, the tension is palpable. It's obvious they're agitated by each other, and feel the need to prove they're the correct one.

If you pay attention, this whole... demand for superiority goes away as time progresses. They're fine with each other's presence, it's not like they're constantly at each others throat all the time. In the shower scene, Ice dropped all of the aggression and competitiveness from his tone and is instead just laying out what he thinks. He's not undermining Maverick, he's not lecturing him like a child. Iceman is just telling Maverick exactly how he sees the situation in hopes that it would make him realize what the fuck he's doing, but with little hope that it'll actually work.

That doesn't mean Ice is always correct either, he doesn't understand why Mav acts the way he does, thus fails to take into consideration the emotional trauma behind it. Which only causes even more strife.

The entire time, Iceman isn't being a dick for the sake of it, he just wants Mav to stop being stupid (by his standards). And Maverick doesn't understand it because all he gets from what Ice says is insults.

Maverick isn't good at understanding what people mean to say if it's implied, you need to say it to his face. This is the reason he stayed quiet in the shower scene, because Ice finally laid everything out in simple words that he can understand without making it sound like a dick-measuring contest.

Thing is, the tension mellows out. At the beginning, you could see the tension and cut it with a knife. By the middle you can see them getting used to each other without jumping to constantly trade jabs (namely: the volleyball scene, it's just a bunch of guys being dudes, and the scene where Charlie says that Mav flew recklessly in front of the whole class, Ice doesn't comment on it in any way). Over time, they've settled down into their tension without needing to address it all the time.

Then Goose dies.

And the tension between them is still there.

Just because Goose isn't there anymore, doesn't mean their whole dynamic vanishes all of a sudden. You can see their hesitation towards each other (especially Ice), and that's great! It demonstrates that Goose dying doesn't magically resolve their problems with each other in solidarity.

Ice tried to give his consolations to Mav, and is awfully awkward about it. You can see on his face that he wants to say more, but doesn't because he knows it's not his place given their history. And not much is said, but a lot it communicated. (Val Kilmer is a killer actor for this, OH MY FUCKING GOD BLESS THAT MAN)

Even in the graduation scene you can see how out of their depts they really are with each other. A stilted congratulations, that was it. But they're trying, and that's what matters.

A scene I think gets overlooked a lot is the scene right before the Layton, where Ice expressed his worries about Mav to Stinger, and Mav heard him. Because I feel like that was a shift that was more drastic than the Layton itself for them.

What Ice was doing in that scene wasn't doubting Maverick's flying abilities, it was his mental health. Sure, he passed the psych eval, but that means next to jack shit when in a real combat situation so close after his backseater dying. And Ice might be worried that he's gonna be left hanging, but with the way he was speaking I'm more inclined to believe he was more worried about Maverick's wellbeing than himself. Ice almost looked resigned. He knew it was gonna get dismissed because that's the military for you, but he still wanted to try to vouch for Mav to stay groundside, if only to keep his mind at bay.

But Maverick heard him, and as usual, he read it as an insult. He wasn't wrong to assume Ice didn't believe him capable of flying the mission, which wouldn't be a lie, but failed to realize that he had more than one reason to want Maverick on the ground rather than in the air. And for the first time, Maverick believes him.

Up until this point, Mav dismissed all of Ice's so called 'insults' because he was certain in and of himself. But now he isn't anymore.

And it affects his performance in the air. I'm not saying he was as shitty as he was at the start of that combat because of what he overheard, but I am saying that it certainly didn't help matters in the slightest.

So their weird 'stepping-on-eggshells' situation is all over the place by that point. Because they started to care about each other despite not being what one would call proper friends yet. It's establishing a potential friendship by implying that 1. Ice cares about Mav's wellbeing and 2. Mav cares about what Ice thinks.

On the ground, they have the wingman exchange, and their suddenly buddy buddy. Thing is, it wasn't sudden at all.

They've been setting this up the entire fucking movie.

Going back to what I said at the beginning: Ice thinks Mav is dangerous and Mav thinks Ice is stuck-up and controlling. After the Layton, they still think those things because they weren't wrong to begin with. What changed was that instead of seeing it as something that pitted them against each other, it was seen as something that simply was about the other, and that there was no changing it. It could be good.

Mav being dangerous could be good and Ice being stuck-up and controlling could be good, because those were just traits of who they were. By the end of the movie they didn't change how they saw each other, just how they interpreted each other.

And it was built up during the entire fucking movie.

There was a reason to why they acted the way they did with each other because of the stilted interpretation they had of each other. From rivalry to friendship (and perhaps more later down the line), it's glaringly obvious throughout that it wasn't a sudden shift, it was exponential.

That's why I think it was so well developed, because you could see it coming.

#I implied that Mav is autistic here and there because yes #i just love them your honor #this is what I call good writing folks #take notes #top gun #tg86 #icemav #iceman x maverick #top gun iceman #tom iceman kazansky #iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #top gun 1986

[kaizynofsickness]

Caught In The act

SMUT BELOW, MDNI!

Warnings!— catching Gojo masturbating to you, panties in mouth, gagging (with the said panties), switch/a tad bit subby Gojo, dacryphilla (a small bit), pussy whipped, slight size kink, cervix fucking, slight degradation if you squint, needy themes, pet names (baby, princess) begging.

"Hmmph-" Satoru lets out pathetic whines behind closed doors, muffling his voice with the sweet taste of your panties in his mouth, cock getting fisted into his hands. He was missing you to an unhealthy level. And by you, he means that little cunny.

His eyes roll back and a choked sob of a moan goes into your panties, the taste making him feel aroused and it all goes to his tip, making it twitch.

He can picture your face as he goes animalist, taking you from behind, shoving your head into the pillow as you cry and beg out from how mean he was bullying his dick deeper. How absolutely adorable and hot you would sound begging for mercy, making his orgasm shock his body. He groans deeply, fucking the cum right out of his cock as he wishes it was your hole sucking and milking it out of him like always. His orgasm felt so lame, he couldn't get what he wanted properly. He didn't want to have his cock fisted into his hands, he wanted to have your cunt greedily squeezing him back inside with every thrust.

He wasn't satisfied.

His imagination is tiring his brain, you're just rotting him away with that cunt, and he can't even have it right now. He takes your panties out of his mouth, letting out a gag of relief yet disappointment. The spot where your pussy would be resting in was soaked in his spit and some tears. He then wraps the fuzzy fabric around his tip before sliding it down to the base, beginning his stroking. "Oh... Like that, hm?" He couldn't help but wish you were there, below him, whining as he teased his tip into you as he liked. Yeah, he was talking out loud, pretending it was you he was talking to. Pathetic, right?

He has a sex drunk smile on his face with his eyes clouded with pure lust. He was whipped for that cunt, and this was what happened when you neglect him from so long. He gasp, whines, moans and even growls trying to imagine your face. His pumps get more desperate, frustrating tears almost falling out of his eyes. "Fuuuckkk, wan' load that hole sooo bad..." he growls out, balls tightening as he gets ready for another orgasm, his mind telling him he was going to paint your insides white. Soon, long white, creamy strings and globs of cum shoot from his blushing tip, hips jerking up. He stains through his orgasm, cum seeping out of him.

"Satoru?"

You just happen to open the door in on him, acting as if you couldn't even hear what was going on inside. You caught him at orgasm, midway through the pleasure. Such a fucked out face with small tears dotting in the corner of his eye, cock twitching and veins pulsating as his seed shoots. It takes a second to calm down from his high before he even looks your way. "Baby...?" He was getting even more red, seeing you just standing there with your eyes wide, directly looking at his cock.

He wanted to start justifying himself. Yet you already seen how your panties were wrapped around his cock so tightly. There wasn't nothing more to say, you saw everything, and you're not stupid. You know what he was doing, especially with the amount of cum everywhere.

"listen, I just wanted you and—" he didn't even know where to start.

"You... Masturbated. To me?" You point to yourself, dumbfounded. You believe that your boyfriend would do such, but with your own panties? "Uh, yes... Princess, you're just so desirable—especially... Your pussy." He seemed to completely forget how he was embarrassed, eyes trailing down your body. That's what he was waiting for, and it's right in front of him. There's no need to wait no more. His voice became sultry, gruff and needy. "Hmm... Come here. Take care of the rest." He spread his legs open for you, giving you a good look of how much cum was down to his base and twitching, veiny and needy. His cock was begging for your attention—touch.

"n-now?!" You were honestly just a bit shocked. His change in emotions was almost bipolar. His eyebrows furrowed as you just stood there as if he didn't say anything. "Baby, I didn't stutter. Get on."

He went from being awkward to being demanding. "Don't deny me no longer, please..."

You didn't want to see him so desperate, so you decided to climb onto the bed, your thighs spreading open as you straddle him. His eyes almost roll back just from the sight of this. If only you had your clothes off. His hands don't waste any time to start traveling your body as if it was a map, grabbing your breast and pinching the nipples underneath all of the clothing. You let out a shocked yelp, almost a moan from his simple touch. Now you waste no time, hastily starting to removes your lower clothing and quickly discarding your panties.

"there we go now..." he was completely pleased with what he was seeing, his cock standing straight and already lined up with your hole to be shoved into. With a jerk upwards, half his length made it inside that sweet and tight hole. You whine from the sudden intruder making no room for more. But you can tell how this is going to go. You slowly sink down onto his dick, pussy engulfing him deeper until he is shoved up in. You only stop when your ass hits his body with a small sound, at the base of his cock. Or even balls deep.

Being the greedy bastard he is, he wiggles your body from your hips down even more, his tip pressing inside and trying to reach spots that shouldn't be touched. "O-okay, that's all that can fit." You meekly say to him, hands trying to pry his own off. Yet he makes sure to fuck deeper.

"yeah? You think? We'll only see soon if you begin to ride me right, princess." He snickers, a small smirk on his face before he thrust his hips into you. He was giving your cue to hop like a little bunny on the dick. You listen well, lifting half of his cock out, a wet and slick sound filling your ears as you slam yourself back down, a slap echoing.

You repeat the action, slow strokes at the start to get yourself ready to be pounded. Satoru leans his head back on the bed board, mouth slightly agap as he lets out small moans, your wetness coating him down his pelvis already. His pretty voice encourages you enough to get him to load you and stuff you silly full of cum. Your bouncing gets more frequent, aiming his tip as it fucks against your cervix with every pound. You ride him out, hips occasionally rolling around to feel him rubbing his dick inside your sweet spot.

"just like that, mm..." He says, half there. This is what he wanted this whole time.

"you couldn't'—hm—wait?" You say in between your own little moans, your hands desperately gripping onto him for support as you frantically bounce on him. Satoru doesn't want to remember his slight embarrassment in that moment. You can't blame him for being so attached to something so addicting? Just that sweet pussy and wetness alone gets his mind foggy. He whines lightly from your tease. As a result to your mouthy and bratty attitude, he decides to hammer you down, hands on your hips. "Who can wait for such a good fuck? Do ya not hear how sexy y'er pussy sounds? Talkin' me s' well." His eyes begin to close and ecstasy, using his strength to get you down on his dick right. His breathing becomes more rapid. "And can you complain? You get good dick."

Matter of fact, you couldn't complain; literally, you were being fucked so silly that the air got knocked right out of you every time he slammed you down to his balls. You cry out, the pleasure starting to manipulate into some sort of pain. The mix was even more arousing. Even if your moans were drowned out by the wet sounds of your pussy being slid in and out of, the sound 'pat, pat' echoing with every skin connection, you couldn't even be heard. You were babbling uselessly to him—to his mean dick that you'll cum a mess on.

Satoru felt your walls around his, tight and warm on his tip as you pulsed. He loves the soaking of your wetness and the lewd sounds from your mouth and cunt. The only reason you were leaking so much arousal is because his monstrous size left no room, so when he fucked, he fucked it all out of you. "P-please, 'toru, fuck! Slow dooownnn..." You beg to him, nails making small crescent shapes into his shoulders. He can't help but laugh at you. This is what he been imagining, why would he stop ever? "Tch, tch..." He pretends to be disappointed, shaking his head.

He doesn't even humor your desperate and pathetic cries. He wants to see you how he just was in the bed with your panties, all whiney and needy, even if you were begging for something else. "Sh, baby. Sh, jus' lemme make you cum."

Soon enough you did exactly that. You feel the familiar high chasing up. Your clit throbs for attention and touch as you shake slightly, body ready for an intense feeling. You clamp down on his dick. "F-fuckkk, cummin'." You let out the prettiest series of moans and soft whines, the sounds going straight to his dick and making him all hard again while he was still inside you. Your juices stream from your pretty pussy, cumming down his dick as your thighs quiver slightly. Satoru keeps a smile on his face, pussy drunk as he watches the clear and white blurry mix soak his lap. He whistles out, satisfied with how you made a mess. He gives you a firm squeeze on your ass, signalling that it wasn't over. "Made me close to cummin' with that sight of your pussy gushing, princess." He whispers to you, hands going back to drill you full of cum.

You back arches naturally, walls overstimulated along with your neglected clit. Your pussy was a drug for him that he wants to abuse like crazy. If he could have this everyday, he will never jerk off again.

"s-sensitive!" You cry out even more, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He couldn't help but smile, cooing to your state of mind. "You're fine, baby. Be that good slut and ride me with my movements." He demands of you playfully, even if he was serious about needing you. You end up complying with him, raising your hips up to match his speed with your face still nuzzled into his neck. He can't help but let out a moan simply because of how good you listen. His pace becomes sloppy, and he becomes greedy as he chases his orgasm like a madman. At this point, he can't even hear your words. He was just so focused on watching as his dick disappears inside your cunt. "Finna fill you good—" his voice becomes strained.

The feelings of warm liquid spreads around your walls, coating and painting them white just how he wanted it. Your body jolts from the sudden warm feeling all inside of you, his steamy seed sticky.

You could have just passed out right now. You still had so much self-consciousness, but it was the way that he wanted to continue that made you want to black out. Satoru notices this, and it only brings the cocky bastard some more ego. "Aw, dick too good for you?" He said in a mocking tone, slightly patting your ass.

"hmph... y-yea." You weakly respond. He lifts your face up to his by your chin, kissing your lips deeply in an intoxicating yet bruising kiss. "Then your okay for more, right?"

"more...?" You said in almost disbelief, looking into his sapphire diamond eyes. Yet you can only see such desirable lust. "Yeah, more. I didn't stutter, unlike you." He shakes his head, shifting his dick inside you as he only cock warms. "Why can't I use you as a cock sleeve now? You're the one who made me wait."

You can't help but believe that this was real. You should have never denied him of sex so long. "Fine. Go as long as you want." You agree to him reluctantly, hesitant as you slowly give your body to him. The way you didn't gave him such a prideful feeling as if he needed any more confidence. He kisses your lips again before going back to place his hands down on your hips.

"how many rounds?" He considers it. "How abo—"

"fuck it, nevermind." He doesn't even wait for you to say anything more, he decides that he wants to flip you over. Soon enough your head is placed into a pillow, and his hand skillfully force you to arch your back. "I'll go as long as I want. Like you said."

˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steel in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.

@kaizynofsickness

From a poll I did.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #x reader #female reader #fem reader #jjk satoru

[watermelonlovershigh]

i seen a trend online where the girl pretends to have a tampon stuck in her and asks her boyfriend if he's get it out. do you think you could write something like that with harry in it?

-🌼

TikTok Prank on Harry /blurb/

AN: i think that trend is very telling on what kind of partner these women have lol. love that trend but some of them i feel are staged. anyways i hope you enjoyed this and make sure to leave your feedback.

This story contains: mentions of a stuck tampon, mentions of blood, fluff, inuidos of sex at the end

{ husband!harry - softrry - no kids - current harry era }

word count: 662

You decide to do the viral tiktok trend on Harry where you tell him you got your tampon stuck and need his help removing it to see his reaction.

"Harry," you call from the bathroom, "can you come here for a second?" You'd seen this trend on TikTok where these women were pranking their boyfriends or husbands into thinking they got a tampon stuck inside of them to see if their partner would help them retrieve it or not. So of course you had to try this prank out on your husband.

A minute later the bathroom door creaks open and Harry asks, "Yeah?" once he steps fully inside. His view is of you wrapped in a towel, sitting on the closed toilet seat because you were about to take a shower. He thinks you look beautiful right now, but you'd be even more beautiful without that white fluffy towel you have wrapped around your torso.

Looking up innocently at your sweet, sweet husband, you fib, "So um, I kinda have a problem. You see, before my shower I was gonna remove my old tampon but I can't find it."

Harry looks at you with a confused expression. "What'd you mean you can't find it?"

Dragging the lie on, you continue, "The string, Harry. I went to pull it out but the string is gone. It must have went up too far inside me or something."

Now looking concerned, Harry starts, "So...." He's still slightly confused as to what you're needing him to do about your situation.

Huffing out of fake annoyance, you finally ask, "Can you help me? Like see if you can pull it out?" You're not gonna lie, you are kind of scared to know his reaction. He could be one of the sweet and generous partners you see in those videos where he's fully up for helping. Or he could be one of those partners who is disgusted by the idea of helping with that problem.

Without second thoughts, Harry steps closer to you and says, "Oh yeah, of course. Just gonna need you to tell me how far I need to reach my fingers up there." Okay, its confirmed. You did marry the perfect man. He begins to kneel in front of you and pulls his right sleeve up because he really thinks he's needing to help fish out your bloody tampon.

"Baby, baby, baby." you repeat over and over again, looking down with love in your eyes. You've got to stop the lie before it goes too far.

"What? M'gonna help you but you're gonna need to drop the towel and spread your legs." Though it sounds dirty out of context, you know Harry meant that with pure and innocent intent.

You reach forward and place your hands on his shoulders. "Baby, I was kidding. It was a prank. I don't actually have a tampon stuck inside me. I just wanted to tell you that to see if you'd actually help me if I really did have one stuck or not."

Relief washes over Harry's features because though he'd help you in a flash, he also wasn't excited about having to pull out your lost, bloody tampon. "Well of course I would've helped, love. How else would you've gotten it out, besides a trip to the doctors. I'd do anything for you."

You lean over and press a kiss to his lips which accidently makes your towel fall off your body. Harry grabs your hips to stabilize his squatting position and once the kiss turns into something more heated, you pull away and request, "Come get in the shower with me. I'm not actually on my period either."

Without much thinking, Harry quickly stands up and starts to shed his clothes off. He's never gonna pass up the offer of showering with his wife. "My love, I would have gotten in the shower with you even if you were on your period, you know." And when he's fully naked, you stand up from the toilet seat and walk hand in hand into the walk-in shower where your heated kisses continue and much, much more begins.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #husband!harry #husbandrry #soft!harry #softrry #harry x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #harry styles tiktok prank #tiktok prank #harry styles blurb #blurb

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: UCLA was a long time ago. Jessie couldn't bring herself to make a move back then and missed her chance. But now that you're back in her life, maybe things can be different.

Warning: None

A/N: A bit more fluff for y'all! And sorry for flooding the Jessie tags. I’ve got a bunch of fics just sitting around!

"Jessie?"

Jessie turned and couldn't believe her eyes. Y/N. Y/N L/N. The girl she'd pined over at UCLA; who her friends had relentlessly made fun of her for liking and never pursuing; the girl who still showed up in idle daydreams from time to time, even all these years later.

"I heard you were playing in town now. Oh my gosh - it's been so long. I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."

Here you were standing in front of her. Smiling at her. Instead of being the...relatively...confident person Jessie now was - she was national team captain, a gold medal athlete, for goodness sake - she wasn't a young girl anymore hiding behind textbooks and her friends, instead though, she felt her cheeks burn hot and her words got caught in her throat. She stood there staring speechless at you.

"Don't tell me you don't recognize me," you said, a hint of apprehension beginning to cast over you.

Finally, Jessie began to react. She closed her eyes briefly in hopes of resetting, shaking her head and allowing herself to smile.

"Of course I do," she finally managed, only stammering slightly. "I mean, I recognize you. Of course."

"Okay." You let out a small laugh of relief. "For a second I thought worldwide athletic stardom made you forget your favourite lab partner."

"Of course not," Jessie readily assured you. "I'd never forget you."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She clenched her jaw as she reprimanded herself internally for imploding so quickly and after so much time. She cut herself some slack when you smiled again at her.

"That's comforting to hear. Well, I mean, I know you're just leaving," you gestured to the door of the coffee shop, "but, um, I don't know." You laughed nervously before settling on what to say. You offered her a resolute nod. "It was nice to see you again."

Jessie's mind whirled with ideas and options. Anything coming out of her mouth now was mere instinct.

"Nice to see you too. Um, I don't know, maybe we could chat sometime? Are you in Portland too?"

"Yeah, I work at a logistics firm in town." You cracked a smirk. "Not nearly as glamorous as being a national icon, but you know, I do my part."

Jessie chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair.

"If you call 4 am wake-up calls, jet lag, and bruises to high heaven glamourous, then sure, I guess it is."

"Sounds not too unfamiliar from your UCLA days," you teased. "I still remember when you showed up to class with a black eye. And I see you've healed fine from your recent one."

Jessie blushed. So you watched her games? And you remembered moments from uni.

You'd been friends in university, but that's all it ever was. Her friends had goaded her again and again to ask you out, but Jessie could never work up the courage. She'd doubted herself too much. And then before she knew it she'd lost her chance. You dated other girls and that was the end of it. She stepped back and time ticked on.

You remained close friends throughout uni, sharing deep conversations, hopes and fears, silly moments, too. There were moments where Jessie felt hope starting to blossom in her chest - that maybe you had feelings for her, but she'd stamp it out. She’d just be setting herself up for disappointment.

After you both graduated, that was it. She'd gone off to London and you fell out of touch. It was for the best really. Well, maybe.

"Anyway," you started again, drawing Jessie back from her thoughts. "Sure, I'd love to catch up. I'd say I'll message you on Instagram, but I know your social media is a black hole. I can give you my number if you like."

Jessie gave you a tight-lipped smile as she scratched the back of her head and let her gaze fall to the bulletin of flyers instead.

"Yeah, I'm not much for social media."

"I know," you chuckled. "You never were."

Jessie cleared her throat and looked back to you. "And sure, what's your number?"

She almost missed you telling her because her mind drifted back to class when you reached over and scribbled your number on the top corner of her paper and told her to text you about the reading. Jessie’s words had died in her throat and she had to settle for merely offering you a delayed nod as you gathered up your books and left. She’d felt light on her feet, nearly dizzy even, all day. Her hands had shaken when she texted you and her palms were clammy as she awaited your response.

That was a lifetime ago. But now here you were, and number newly confirmed. Jessie tucked her phone away in her pocket.

"Okay, I'll let you go," you told her. "And truly, if you aren't up to a chat of any kind - no pressure. You probably have so many people vying for your time. I won't be offended." You said with true earnest. "In case I don't see you again, I just want to say I'm really proud of you for everything you've achieved. And I'd say I'm impressed, but A) that goes without saying, and B) I always knew you were going to do great things. I told you time and time again. Anyway, it was so good to see you. Take care."

Before Jessie could respond, you'd turned and disappeared to the other side of the shop and into the line. She forced herself to turn and leave.

The door had barely closed behind her when she opened her phone and pulled up her messages with Teagan.

"You will NEVER guess who I just ran into."

-----

"Hi Y/N. It's Jessie. UCLA."

"Lol the one and only. How are you?"

"Well forgive me for not assuming that you would know who a random 'Jessie' is lol. I'm doing well, thanks. How are you?"

"You were always very humble. It was always very endearing, so I'm glad to see you haven't lost that. I'm doing well. Working late. Some of my vendors are shitting the bed, so I'm scrambling to find alternatives."

"Seriously? That sounds brutal. I'm sorry to hear that. Well, if it makes you feel better, the team had to run extra drills today because of how bad our last game was."

"It's the start of the season - lots of new players. Chemistry takes time. You guys will find your groove soon. I'm positive. How is Portland treating you, by the way? I'd love to hear more about your time in London too at some point."

"Well, if you still want to grab coffee, I can tell you all about it. And I want to hear about you too. Did you ever make it to the Ghibli museum?"

"Oh my gosh lolol. You remember that. And yes! I did. And it was amazing. And coffee would be amazing, too :)"

Jessie belatedly realized that she was smiling as you texted back and forth. It was an odd feeling - it was strange to be talking with you again, yet entirely natural.

To her surprise, you ended up texting every day until you met up Sunday afternoon. She'd mentioned to Teagan that you two had this scheduled and soon Jessie was hit with an onslaught of messages from all her Bruins mates stepping right back into form and teasing her.

On a scale from 1-10, how red did you blush? And why was it 20.

Can I finally tell her you mumbled her name in your sleep? Several times?

Please tell me you immediately pulled out a vision board with her face all over it.

LOL the universe said, “Think you’ve suffered enough pining for this girl? Think you’re over her? Guess again!”

She still hot? Send pics.

Jessie sat in her car down the street from the coffee shop and essentially gave herself a stern, mental talking to about your get together. She was not who she was 5 years ago, and neither were you. She didn't need to be so nervous. There were no stakes at all, she could just relax, be in the moment, and reconnect with an old friend.

When she stepped into the coffee shop, her pulse picked up just so when she saw you seated at a table, but thankfully by the time she sat she'd composed herself again.

"The good news is, the rain is nothing new to me after being in London," she joked as she swept some rain off her baseball cap.

You looked up from your phone and a large smile crossed your face.

"Yeah, I hear you. And what's going on - how did we both go from sunny LA to rain central?"

Not entirely surprising, conversation flowed easily between you two. And it wasn't all reminiscing and nostalgia, it was easy to talk about current things as well. Pretty soon, you were both at the ends of your second cups of coffee and yet neither of you made a move to leave.

"So, um, you've been in Portland for a while now," the ease Jessie had felt faltered some as she broached a topic she'd been highly curious about, "did [y/gf] come with you?"

You screwed up your face and laughed.

"No," you answered easily. "We broke up like a couple of months after convocation. Let's be real - that was never going to last."

"Oh," Jessie replied, surprise showing on her face at how readily you dismissed the notion. "I had no idea. I thought you two were solid."

"Well," you drained the last bit of your drink, "I guess I wasn't entirely forthcoming then. Sure, things were okay. But, I was lying to myself if I thought that was going to be a 'forever' kind of relationship." Jessie's look of surprise lingered and you rolled your eyes, leaning in. "Jessie. She'd get distracted every time she walked by a mirror. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Come on, don't tell me you didn't notice. Her full on checking herself out anytime she caught her reflection?"

Jessie sat back and gave you a brief look of disbelief, shaking her head. "I tried not to notice."

"Smart," you retorted good naturedly. "She was nice, and we had fun, but beyond our values not exactly aligning, an equal partnership it was not."

"Well, okay, she's out of the picture. You must be with someone new, then," Jessie went on. She ignored the twinge in her chest when you shook your head 'no'. Just as quickly, she scolded herself. Why would it matter? She was getting way ahead of herself here. She supposed that old habits - and evidently dormant feelings - died hard.

"No. I mean, I dated a couple of girls since I've been here, but nothing's really stuck." You looked up from your drink to Jessie. "Now, superstar, you have to tell me your update."

Jessie mouth contracted into a tight smile and she felt her cheeks begin to burn under the scrutiny.

"That's confidential," she quipped.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and leaned forward. "That is so not fair." Jessie remained smugly silent and merely shrugged. You let out an exasperated sigh and slouched back in your chair. "Fine," you relented not wanting to push too much. "You were always tight-lipped in university, too. You could've had anyone and you - as far as I know," you said pointedly, "didn't date anyone."

"Oh come on." Jessie now rolled her eyes. "I was so shy and quiet. Even if I'd liked someone I would've never gotten up the courage to ask them out." She felt a buzzing in her head as she watched your reaction. You smiled sweetly.

"You were shy and quiet, yes. But you opened up once you were comfortable. I mean, look at us, look at you with your teammates. And you were so smart, incredibly sweet, and pretty, and you had that dry sense of humour. And, hello, captain of the football team!"

"Co-captain," Jessie interjected pointedly. You hung your head briefly with a laugh.

"I repeat - you could've had anyone."

Jessie subconsciously fidgeted with her hat and planted her feet further apart as she shifted down in her chair. "Well, didn't seem that way at the time."

"Wait - so who did you like?" You probed.

"No one," Jessie retorted, her features scrunching up as she played off the question dismissively. "I barely had time to breathe. There was no way I could date someone."

"You are so cagey sometimes," you said lightly, not being able to resist ribbing her once more. "Fine, so, what about now? Are you seeing someone?"

Jessie's composure was long gone and her face burned hot as your interrogation got her flustered. She took a subtle breath and worked to calm herself.

"No, no one's caught my eye just yet," she relayed.

You studied Jessie, discerning whether to drop the topic or not. You eventually relented as you crossed your arms and reclined in your chair.

"Well, I imagine that's not easy. There's a lot to live up to. And you're surrounded by impressive people every day, so the bar's gotta be high. Again, you can have your pick."

You grabbed your phone and looked it over quickly.

"I need to get going. I have a few errands to run still before the weekend's over," you said, a hint of regret in your voice before you offered a smile. "I had a great time though. It was so good to catch up with you."

Jessie removed her hat, running her fingers through her hair briefly before pulling the cap back down on her head.

"Yeah, I had a great time, too."

For the first time this conversation, a small lull formed and neither of you jumped to bridge it. Eventually, Jessie cleared her throat.

"Maybe we could get together again. Coffee. A drink. Whatever, really."

A mild look of surprise crossed your face, puzzling Jessie.

"Sure, I'd like that," you told her warmly as you shrugged on your jacket.

"Okay." Jessie gave you a small smile as she, too, rose from the table. "Will you be at the game next weekend?"

"I hadn't planned on it, but I could be." You smirked.

"No pressure," Jessie said as she felt that old nervousness begin to bubble up. "I could get you tickets if you ever want to go. That's all."

You smiled, looking at her in appreciation. "I'll have to take you up on that."

Jessie chuckled, but gave you a pointed look. "Honestly, you don't have to. I know you weren't a big soccer fan even in university."

"But," you started, drawing the word out and returning her pointed look, "I started going to games after becoming friends with a certain someone. I just haven't had a reason to go to a Thorns games yet."

Jessie resisted her impending blush and instead crossed her arms loosely in front of her, shifting her weight to one leg. "Okay, just let me know," Jessie said. She gave you a small nod. "And I promise these games are even better than Bruins ones."

You cocked your head, a hint of a smile on your face as you lifted a finger to your lips and narrowed your eyes in mock contemplation.

"What are they calling you these days? Midfield Maestro?"

Somehow, Jessie didn't even feel the urge to blush. Instead, she gave you a cocky smirk.

"So you really have been following my career."

She nearly grinned at how your cheeks flushed pink and you broke eye contact. You only took a moment to compose yourself and look back to Jessie with a half smirk.

"Hard not to," you simply said.

Jessie relented, feeling like she'd teased you enough. For now. She smiled and spoke earnestly.

"Offer stands - if you wants tickets, just let me know. Regardless, let's get together soon."

"Deal," you told her, your blush slowly fading.

There was a brief moment of stillness and uncertainty before you stepped forward and pulled Jessie into a hug. It only took her a moment to relax into it, her arms wrapping around you. Even though your body felt different now - so was hers - it felt natural to hold you close again.

You stayed like that for several moments, surprise and tampered excitement filling Jessie when you tightened your embrace before letting go. She noted the renewed colour on your cheeks when you stepped back.

"Text me?" You asked.

Jessie nodded. "Of course."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt #woso #portland thorns #canwnt x reader

[wandasfifthwife]

your jealousy is showing (on me)✩‧₊˚

—> hockey player/coach!wanda x afab!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, top wanda x bottom reader, dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, jealous wanda, exhibition (janitor closet), marking/impact play (hickeys, bruises, thigh spanking), fingering (r receiving), r gets hit on but is oblivious, tyler mention!, reader is said to be wearing a dress, person who hits on r sees the two of them, not proofread!

a/n || in such a slut for this woman. so sorry if my writing is nastier than coconut, idk how I feel about it haha but I hope you enjoy bc this made me hot and bothered tbh

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Practice has been going well, better even. There’s been an increase in number since people started to find out that wanda has experience on the ice as a player on a professional team. The stands have become packed, families and friends taking up every corner, a completely contrast from before. You remember the days when you first came with your nephew, sitting and having a seven feet distance from another person. Tyler’s since graduated from wanda’s class, now attending another with a different coach.

It was a sad day for him, hugging your girlfriend tight and exclaiming how he wishes to have her as a coach for every class. She had laughed, resting a hand on his back and reassured him that she’ll attend his other classes. She even went as far as to mention private classes, saying they can spend time together on the ice. A smile had come upon your face as you watched the two interact, thankful your nephew is able to have such a wonderful relation with his coach, your girlfriend.

Since then you’ve been attending his classes with Wanda. You can’t help yourself, curling a hand through her arm to hold her close. You complain that it’s the cold, but you both know it’s a shit excuse. Regardless, she’s never going to turn you down, if anything she’s pulling you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head.

“He’s improved a lot. Lately he’s been practicing outside his house with some friends on the street.”

“That’s probably the only reason why he’s able to skate in a straight row now. Do you think he’ll continue to play?”

“I think so. It’s all he talks about, but of course we can’t say definitive terms. He could fall out of love with it in a year and choose like baseball.”

“If he were to choose another sport it’d be football, not baseball. His favorite part of hockey is running into others, he forgets there’s an actual game going on.”

You stifle a laugh, “he’s trying.”

He proved Wanda’s words to be correct because the next second he’s slamming into one of the team members, pummeling the two into the wall. The coach had come to talk to you after, seeking you where you stood by the concession stand. You had a hand on Wanda’s arm, informing her of where you’ll be.

You were paying for the snack, thanking the person behind the counter. He had stood behind you just out of your line of sight, so just enough that you ran into him when turning around. His shirt smelled of sweat and his cologne, a lot of his cologne, so much so it overwhelmed you.

“Hey, you’re tyler’s mom, right?”

“No, just his aunt.”

“My bad. Sorry that was terribly rude of me, I was going to say you look good for your age.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Of course,” he flashes a smile, leaning onto one of the tables beside him, “I’ve notice how often you come, it’s great that you’re supporting him like this. Most kid’s don’t have such a supportive aunt.”

“I try. My brother and his wife are busy, so I take over. He’s means well but he’s still a young teen.”

“Yes. He’s nothing new. A lot of teens enjoy the physical aspect to the game, it’s normal for them to be competitive even with each other.”

A few minutes have gone by, enough time for concern to begin swirling through Wanda’s mind. She’s relieved to see you’ve not gone missing and that you’re all in one piece, standing only a few feet from her.

“That’s my coach,” Tyler starts, seeing how Wanda’s attention was directed at the tow of you.

“I know,” she deadpans, turning her attention back on your nephew, “finish untying your shoes.”

“I know,” he mimics, tone lowering to frustrate her further.

You’re walking back over with a grin plastered on your face. Tyler’s already grabbing at the drink you got, pulling it from your hands to open it already.

“Just talked with your new coach, Tyler. It seems you have a track record with finding amazing coaches.”

Already Wanda didn’t like him. She kept quiet about her disdain, knowing how important it was to you that Tyler doesn’t come to contact with a terrible one as you had.

It grew difficult. Each practice he always seemed to find you, drawing out a long conversation with you. Usually it’s fine, as a coach herself she understands the important of keeping up with the families, but this was excessive. The constant parade of compliments directed at you were unnecessary. He wouldn’t really care to talk to Tyler, and as far as she knew, Wanda didn’t exist around him. He’s either dumb, or he’s choosing to be ignorant towards the intimacy between you two.

What brought her to the edge was when he began to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or the back of your waist. It was in moments where it could’ve been excused; done to either move you out of the way or make sure you don’t trip.

You were sweet, engaging in a conversation he had started yet again down at the end of the bleachers. Wanda had her attention set on Tyler skating around before practice, eyes flickering to where the two of you stood every minute.

“I have a conference this weekend and we’re allowed to bring a plus one. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Oh. I already have someone that I’m going with. So I won’t be going with you, but I will see you there.”

He looks disappointed, eyes shooting to meet Wanda’s, “I’ll see you there then.”

Wanda doesn’t like that man.

You walk up the stairs all sweet-like, sitting beside her and placing a kiss to her cheek, “when’s that coach award event again?”

“Saturday, 7PM.”

You hum, leaning your head on her shoulder, “you better win an award.”

“If not, I have you.”

An elbow shoves into her side, “you’re such a sap.”

“No, I just love you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against yours, feeling like she’s won when she catches the coach looking. She had hoped the soft public display of affection would be enough of a sign to back off, but it wasn’t.

The weekend came soon enough. Wanda standing by the door with her keys in hand as she waits for you to join her.

“Beautiful,” she says when you step down, opening the door for you.

“I hope you win one award, that would be amazing.”

“It would look great for my public imagine,”she laughs at the look you give her, “you know I don’t care about that, love.”She gives your thigh a squeeze before backing the car out of her apartment complex.

She should’ve known he’d be stuck to you most of the night. Wanda tries to engage in the conversation, but he tunes her out, keeping his attention on you. Ever so sweet you try to include her, smiling back at her but this time it’s not enough to quell how she’s feeling.

“Hey Micheal, can you go grab her another drink?”

“Wanda, I can’t—“

She shuts you up by pinching at your waist, cutting your sentence off. He looks mildly annoyed, “sure.”Once he’s turned around, she’s guiding you out of the room.

“Wanda there’s only like sixteen minutes until the ceremony—“ your mouth goes numb when you realize where she’s walking you towards. There’s a closet at the end of the hall, tiny and small as its only purpose is to hold supplies for the janitors. Tonight it will be used for another matter.

“That’s enough time,” she says lowly, shutting the door behind her, enclosing the two of you in darkness.

She’s lifting you with her hands under your thighs, dropping you down onto the extra school desk stored away in the room. Her body’s leans into you, hands on either side of your body as she kisses you passionately. They turn messy, trailing from the corner of your lips to end up on the bottom side of your neck. You gasp when she bites down, a hand reaching to push at her chest.

“Wan—wait.”

She doesn’t listen, too focused on making your neck show an array of purple marks. You whine, squirming in her hold as she leaves one after the other, stopping only on areas that you’re sensitive to. She’s severely quiet, attentive to every heavy breath and sound coming from you. You’re weak, arms wrapped around her neck, head pressed into the wall behind you. You’ve completely given up control, neck tilted back to give her more room.

“Oh—” you shiver when she moves towards the spot behind your neck. Your reaction gave her another reason to press her lips against it, nipping at the skin there.

Her ministrations leave you wet, your hips grind down onto the desk below you to try to seek relief. Wanda coos, cold fingers sliding under your dress, finding the wetness between your thighs. You cry out when she thrusts two in, pushing through your tight walls. It’s intoxicating, the wet sounds filling the room, turning you on even more.

“Ah! Wands—you—“

She’s shushing you, lips on yours to keep you quiet. Her fingers are splitting you open, angling perfectly towards the spot that makes your back arch. Her thumb catches onto your clit with each thrust, brushing perfectly to make you see white. You weave your fingers into her hair, moaning into her mouth when she bites at your bottom lip.

You’ve completely forgotten about the event, and most importantly, Michael. You’re clenching onto her finger, arousal covering her hand and dripping onto the wood below you. You choke on a moan when she’s guiding you to lift your left foot onto the desk, the position spreading you open to allow her fingers to push deeper. The bottom of your dress slips up, clothing pooling around your waist. You feel your orgasm build, a series of whimpers spilling from you.

“Fucking say my name when you come,” she demands, holding back moan when she hears your strangled whine after she brought her hand down onto your thigh. The way your cunt squeezes around her fingers then makes her weak.

“Like that?”

She’s cocky, hand coming down harder on that same spot.

“ah! wands please—“

Your body jerks after her fifth slap, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. She nuzzles against your head resting on her shoulder. You relaxed into her hole, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

It was fine until wanda carried you into the bathrooms to clean off and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, easily spotting the splotches painting your neck.

You leaned over the sink to get a better view, eyes snapping between the marks; the one by your ear, another under the strap of your dress, one more at the base of your neck. You weren’t aware of the severity of her actions in the moment, your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fuzziness spreading throughout your body.

“Was that okay,” she asks from where she stands by the entrance.

“Very,” you mumble, looking back to her with a smile.

“Hey, I want to apologize. I knew something was wrong,” you say, grabbing a paper towel from the machine, “he was a jerk to you. Like just earlier he wasn’t letting you get a word in, but I really just thought he was being nice at first.”

“You’re fine, love.”

You wet the towel, rubbing warm water over the cloth to get it wet, “you say that but I still feel bad.”

She crosses the room to grab at your wrist after seeing what you were doing, “why’re you trying to rub the marks off?”

“Because?”

She raises an eyebrow, “because? What?”

“This is your event, I don’t want you to loose your job over me.”

“I won’t,” she tosses the towel away, “I knew what I was doing when I gave you those.”

“But the staff—“

“There’s enough of them screwing around.”

“Oh.”

She huffs, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress, drawing it up your thigh until the red, swollen marks on your thighs from where she was aiming her hand earlier begin to show. You hate how affected you get by the sight of them, thighs squeezing together.

You were only meant to be gone for ten minutes. That was the original goal, but she began to fold with how you were looking at her. Your eyes were dark, locking onto hers from within the mirror. She had you pinned to the counter in seconds, forcing you to watch how easily you melt under her touch.

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, getting closer to where the two of you stood. You had begun to push back, mumbles on how she needs to stop so they don’t get caught, but it’s like she knew. You caught on later, realizing it was Micheal by the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Wanda, he—“

She’s slapping a hand over your mouth, pulling you back against her chest. You look over your shoulder, finding Micheal freeze after entering into the room. Wanda had you in a position only he could dream of. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he processed what he was looking at. The marks on your body, eyes glossy and faraway even as you look in his direction. The muscles in Wanda’s arm flex as she presses her hand tighter against your mouth. You’re absolutely dripping, excitement pooling from the behavior this man was bringing out of her.

“I was worried… but I see you’re.. okay.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Micheal?”

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanida m.list

#competing series #hockey!au #hockey player!wanda #hockey coach!wanda #coach!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #dom wanda #top wanda #wanda x afab!reader #wanda maximoff x afab!reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel wanda #wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader smut #wanda mcu #wanda marvel #marvel fanfic #wanda fic #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff marvel

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Alphabet✨

Hey hey! Soooooo I saw some people doing the NSFW Alphabet for some of the Hazbin cast so I thought I would toss my hat in the ring! And of course I'll be doing it for the LOML Luci 💖

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You already know, the King of Hell is the King of aftercare! Your sessions can go on for a while, so more often than not, you're absolutely spent. Luckily, Lucifer is at your beck and call. He'll give you whatever you need; cuddles, a bubble bath, a massage, a snack, and water of course! You're his Queen, after all, he'll sure as hell treat you like one!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think Lucifer's favorite body parts are his hands. Not for the way they look, but for what they can do. He loves that his hands can roam every inch of your body, make you moan and whimper, make you scream his name, mark you. The fact that they can bring you so much pleasure makes him giddy! It's almost impossible for Lucifer to choose his favorite thing about you because he loves every bit of you! But if you pressed him about it, he would have 2 answers. The first is your lips, because the man is obsessed with kissing you! He'd do it all day if he could! Plus you have the most infectious smile, it warms his heart every time he sees it. The second are your thighs. Look me in the eye and tell me Lucifer is not a thigh man, you can't, it's impossible! Your lap is his favorite place to sit and to rest his head. Of course he LOVES plantings little kisses and hickies on your inner thighs when he's about to eat his favorite meal ;)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This goes without saying, Lucifer could survive on your cum alone if he was so lucky. Man is pussy drunk! He'll coax so many orgasms out of you just so he can get his fill of your juices. It's basically a drug to him. And of course he has no problem tasting his own once he's filled you up, definitely a different taste but one he enjoys nonetheless!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's embarrassing for him, but Lucifer was smitten with you since he first laid eyes on you! He couldn't help but imagine all the things he would do to you and have you to do him if you ever gave him the chance. He mentally smacked himself for seeing you that way in the beginning, but GOD you were just an absolute angel! The amount of times this man jacked off to the thought of you before you were even together is way more than he'll ever admit to. If you accidentally bumped into him or touched his shoulder, rest assured that man was cumming into his hand that night because of it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucifer is legitimately older than dirt, and had a wife for 10,000 years, he knows EXACTLY what he's doing! He makes it his personal mission to have you cum multiple times every session! Man invented eating pussy for Christ's sake!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Old school as hell (literally lol), Lucifer loves missionary with you, but it's never boring! Every session with him is intimate and full of passion. He LOVES looking at when when he thrusts into you over and over, the facial expressions and noises you make when he makes love to you makes his heart melt! That being said, he loves any position where he can see your beautiful face, so PLEASE climb on top and ride that man into the next afterlife!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Lucifer is the goofiest man to ever goof! I'd like to think once you two are super comfortable with each other, initiating sex becomes sillier. He would use old timey phrases like "hanky panky" or "horizontal mambo", but most of the time he would say something along the lines of "how's about you and me partake in a little bow- chicka-bow-wow :)"

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has blond hair so his pubes are no different! Lucifer is very well kept and tidy in that area, the minimal hair he has down there stands out a little bit do to his pale white skin, but it's always perfectly trimmed!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy master, let me tell ya! Lucifer has such a bleeding heart and is a hopeless romantic for sure! He only says the sweetest things to you when you make love. He hardly uses the term "fuck" as he thinks it's a bit too harsh considering how deeply passionate your sessions are. His praises are endless for you; "you're so beautiful", "you look like an angel", "you feel so good"

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I touched on this earlier, but his masturbation sessions definitely lessened when you two started being intimate. Before that, Lucifer would probably masturbate to you AT LEAST once a day before you were a couple. When he started courting you, it got even worse because God forbid he initiate anything with you out of fear of scaring you away! But once you initiated, oh he was putty in your hands! After that, Lucifer gains a lot more self control, but he can't help but jack off to you every once in a while, but he'd much rather it be your hand~

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

PRAISE KINK PRAISE KINK PRAISE KINK!! Did I say praise kink?? Please praise this man when you're with him! Lucifer loves to know that he's doing a good job with you. Absolutely melts when you call him a "good boy". He adores hearing things like "You make me feel so good, Luci", "You're doing so well for me, my darling", "Just like that, sweetheart, just like that."

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His room, of course! His bed is wide enough, for sure! But Lucifer would never restrict himself to just the bedroom. I hope you're ready to defile every flat surface in that mansion of his because he's fucking you in every single room. He has A LOT of rooms~

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. You turn him on. Every move you make, every sway of your hips, every laugh you make, Lucifer is GONE. But of course, teasing this man is a sure fire way to get him going. Wearing a short skirt around him and bending over seemingly innocently or placing a kiss on the pulse of his neck, dude is hard as a rock and you're so gonna get it when you two are alone! Good!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I feel like there isn't a lot that Lucifer wouldn't try at least once if you asked him to! But a big turn off for him is any mention of his ex-wife Lilith during an intimate session. He'd rather not think about her in that way anymore, he still hasn't fully recovered from her absence.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh baby, oh buddy, oh pal...you already know what I'm gonna say here! LUCIFER 👏🏻 IS 👏🏻 THE 👏🏻 KING 👏🏻 OF 👏🏻 CUNNILINGUS!!! This has already been said a million times but I'LL SAY IT AGAIN! He could live off eating your pussy alone!! Man needs his fill AT LEAST once a day, he absolutely WORSHIPS your pussy! He has a forked tongue and he knows PRECISCELY how to use it! Your womanhood will never know peace when you're with Lucifer Morningstar! Your pleasure always comes first pun completely intended but he'd never turn down a blowjob from you! He always gets so red in the face when he watches you suck him off~

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You can count on one hand the amount of times Lucifer has been rough with you during sex, because it's extremely rare. He treats you like glass for the most part, always wanting to make the moment last as long as possible. He's VERY sensual when it comes to love making. Oh but when he's close to an orgasm, his pace picks up tenfold, almost too fast for you to register the amount of pleasure you're receiving. Almost~

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are definitely not Lucifer's thing. He views sex as a declaration of love, so to speak, it can't be rushed. However, there have been occasions where your over abundance of teasing caused him to snap and he had to push you onto the nearest surface and take care of you right then and there!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Considering he's the literal King of Hell, Lucifer can take as many risks as he pleases. Who's going to stop him? Although he doesn't like to push it, he'd rather keep your love making sessions private. But, semi public sex is not out of the question, especially when he wants to pound you on the balcony of his mansion where the entire Pride Ring can hear your moans.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lucifer's stamina is God-like, literally! He's not bound to the same restrictions as mortals so this man can go for literal hours if you let him! Of course you need a lot more breaks than he does and that's perfectly alright with him! But once you're ready to go again, it's off to the races!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You would definitely be the one to bring up toys in the bedroom with Lucifer. At first he might feel insecure because he thinks you need toys to help get you off, but that's the furthest thing from the truth! The first thing you bring up is a strap on, and oh my God, he's beet red. THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE PEGGED, DO YOU HEAR ME?? Pound that ass, he will fall even deeper in love with you than he already is!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Lucifer isn't much of a tease himself, that's your department! The worst he'll do is squeeze your ass or place his hand a little too high up your thigh for it to be considered casual touching. His go to move if he's in a frisky mood will be to flash his signature V-shaped fingers over his mouth once he knows no one is watching.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Oh let me tell you something, this man is LOUD. Not in terms of actual words, but his sounds! Lucifer cannot help himself, his moans and pleas and whimpers are so fucking cute, you know for sure that you're doing something right when he mewls at the top of his lungs! It's music to your ears, this man is DESPERATE for you!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I made this headcanon a little bit ago, but I'm a firm believer that Lucifer is really not a fan of doggy style. He's such a romantic that his desire to see your face when you have sex is EXTREMELY strong. Sure you have a great ass that's fun to smack and grab at, but nothing compares looking into your eyes as you both cum.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Oh you know Lucifer is packing! He's not hung like a horse, but he's definitely larger than average, I would probably say around 7.5 -8 inches. Uncut. I will not explain further lol. His dick is slightly on the skinnier side in terms of girth but he knows exactly how to use it to make you scream~

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When it comes to you, Lucifer's sex drive is through the roof! Sex marathons are not an uncommon practice between the two of you, a few had gone on for days at a time! If he could spent the rest of eternity inside of you, it would not be long enough for him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Lucifer usually falls asleep after you, not just because he has stamina of heavenly proportions, but because he wants to make sure you're taken care of. You tend to crash pretty fast after a long session and he wants to make sure you're cleaned up before you zonk out. Once he knows you're alright, it's cuddle time baby and you know he uses his wings to cover the both of you when you drift off to sleep together.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #enjoy some midnight smut~

[poor-boy-orpheus]

I think folks have really lost the plot when it comes to AI.

Imo, the issue we are faced with is not how to prevent ai from being utilized or advancing, frankly I think that ball is already rolling. The issue also isn’t designating sacred work that can’t be touched by AI (I’m sorry to say, art is not inherently better than manual labor). The issue we are really faced with is now that we are embarking on a world wherein AI is rising and gaining genuine ability to match or exceed humans, how will we ensure we are taking care of our people?

A lot of folks seem to be really concerned with protecting the idea of intellectual property, but at the same time don’t we believe in an egalitarian sharing of knowledge? Should we really be prizing exclusivity of access to media or materials? I don’t really think so, but the challenge we face is how to ensure that a society that will increasingly have less and less need for human labor (particularly in data analysis or data entry jobs that AI tends to be the best in) will still see its citizens financially secure.

I have no problem with AI making art, regardless of whether I think that art is “good” or whether someone a machine makes can even be defined as “artistic” to begin with. Frankly, I don’t care. I do care that many artists will be out of a job and we don’t have a mechanism for ensuring they’re taken care of.

And that is where the discourse is so often falling short in my eyes. Many leftists who claim to want to leave the idea of personal ownership behind become the most forceful advocates for protecting intellectual property. A development that should be spurring on the greatest advance in humankind’s ability to universally take care of everyone is instead demonized on the left for somehow being theft and largely ignored on the right as a pipe dream.

AI is growing more powerful exponentially. Our lifetimes will see a shift on the level of the invention of electricity or the internet (if not much much greater) and we need to be prepared for that. The outcry cannot be “You used AI tools and therefore your work is invalid” but rather it must be “How are we restructuring ourselves to better absorb this new change?”

Universal basic income has to become a default. Removing healthcare from being tied to a job is a necessity. Eventually moving past currency might even be a possibility.

You can’t stop the world from turning, you can’t stop this progress from happening. But we still have time to focus our efforts on taking this change and handling it well. History will watch what we say, what we do, and how we addressed this.

#ai #ai artwork

[colonelarr0w]

Hey hi hemlo

Love your writing style so much, that asshole Gojo fic made my heart squeeze like you wouldn't believe

Can I make a request?

A foreign Jujutsu Tech teacher/sorcerer struggling to do paperwork in Japanese. Satoru and/or Suguru try to help, but end up a distraction instead lol

A Welcome Distraction

Sypnosis - Working is already grueling enough, made worse only by the human-sized distractions that are ... the loves of your life.

Warning(s) - None, this is really just pure fluff.

A/N - This really just spiraled into Gojo being an absolute distraction, but I hope y'all enjoy nonetheless!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"There she is!" 

"Satoru … restrain yourself, even if it's just for a second." 

With a smile already curling the corners of your mouth upward, you turn your head to your classroom door – which had been swung open by Gojo, a wide smile already plastered onto his face. Not too far behind him was Geto, whose apologetic eyes flicker to you and whose lips quirk upward in an equally as apologetic smile.  

You say nothing as Gojo enters your classroom, beelining to where you sit behind your desk and wrapping his arms around you. His chin lowers to rest against the top of your head, a content hum rumbling in his throat when you lean back in his arms.  

“Hello sweet girl,” Gojo says with a wide smile, tilting his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You hum, then turning your head to watch Geto as he approaches. 

“Hi. What brings you both around here?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, turning in your seat to get a better look at Gojo. He peers over your shoulder, glancing at the unfinished paperwork that you had been tending to for the better part of two hours.  

Geto leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and sneaking a glance at your paperwork. “Hi honey, we just wanted to check in on you.”  

You smile, accepting the kiss that Gojo leans in to steal from you, his hands holding either side of your face as his lips curl into a boyish grin against your own.  

Geto rolls his eyes, reaching out to grip the collar of Gojo’s shirt and lightly prying him away from you; though he couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest at both of his lovers doting on one another.  

“That’s sweet of you both, but don’t you have physical training with your students today?” you tilt your head, remembering how Gojo was supposed to tend to the first-years and Geto the second-years.  

At the mention of fulfilling his teacher duties, Gojo groans childishly, hanging his head so that his forehead hits against your shoulder. His back arches uncomfortably, but his discomfort is lessened by the sound of your sweet laugh.  

“I let them have a small break, I couldn’t let Satoru run rampant,” Geto replies teasingly, grinning down at you. You set down the pen in your hand, lifting a hand to Gojo’s hair and scratching at his scalp — which he doesn’t hesitate to purr at.  

“Not true!” Gojo murmurs against your shoulder, removing his head from your shirt and turning to glance at Geto with a dramatic pout, bottom lip jutted out like a child who had been denied a snack before dinner.  

"It's entirely true love," you nod in agreement, chuckling breathily to yourself. Gojo huffs, this time completely disconnecting from you and taking a step away from your desk. He crosses his arms over his chest, still pouting.  

"You're both just so mean to me, and for no reason," he complains loudly, borderline stomping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickers between you and Geto. You turn to your raven-haired lover, both of you sharing a knowing smile just as Gojo grows annoyed with being ignored.  

Geto once again sneaks a glance at the paperwork scattered about your desk; ranging from mission logs given to you by Ijichi to student papers that you had procrastinated grading. His eyebrows furrow at the notes that you had scrawled into the paper's margins, but he doesn't bring any attention to it. 

"It's not being mean 'toru," you try to reason with your childish lover, but he merely presses his palms against his ears and hums obnoxiously. You sigh in exasperation, rubbing your temples before turning to Geto – your only saving Grace.  

Geto chuckles, catching Gojo as he dramatically falls into the former's arms, head knocking against Geto's broad shoulder.  

"Come now, you know she didn't mean it that way," Geto says, voice shaking as he struggles to hold back the chuckle that rises in his throat. "There isn't any reason for you to be this dramatic." 

It's your turn to chuckle now, the noise making both men smile lovingly at you. You half lean over your desk, arms covering your now abandoned paperwork as you turn your attention to both Gojo and Geto. 

"He's right, I don't mind that you both came to visit me," you say truthfully, lips still curled upward in that smile that your lovers could spend hours admiring. "I appreciate it actually." 

Gojo immediately disconnects himself from Geto's arms, beelining for you once again and wrapping you up in a bone-crushing embrace. You laugh heartily in his arms, squealing as he effortlessly lifts you from where you sit behind your desk.  

"'toru! I have work to do!" Your plea to return to working goes completely ignored by the snowy-haired man, who only tightens his grip around you and proceeds to spin you around. Geto joins in on the laughter, his chest warm and his eyes crinkled in a loving smile.  

Even with your complaining, and even with your pleading, you truly do love the distractions provided by not just one … but both of the loves of your life. 

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #satosugu #satosugu x reader #jjk fluff #jjk drabble

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Ten

Summary: Azriel and Y/n both are left reeling from the fight and revelations that morning.

Warnings: ANGST!!!! Shes a little spicey, Smut (oral, f receiving), this is probably the longest chapter yet

Series Masterlist

-Part Ten-

Azriel was gone until well after dinner, she’d eaten alone in the dining room when the house had seemed sick of her wallowing and forced a plate of food in front of her. Y/n was half tempted to refuse but she felt the scolding presence and decided arguing wasn’t worth it.

The fight had drained from her in the hours she’d spent in that seat, staring at the wall. She didn’t have it in her, the fire from her argument with Azriel dying out, turning to ice in her chest until she felt nothing at all.

Once she finished every last bite of the meal, the house whisked away the plates and she was left with nothing again, just that cold empty silence. She felt the fire tugging on her, felt it like a faint echo of what she’d felt this morning, begging to be rekindled, to keep fighting until she won, that was her mother’s temper, her father’s resilience. But she wasn’t them, she wasn’t strong enough to be them, her parents had taken on the world and won, fighting for a dream that they got to achieve. Y/n? Y/n had lived through nothing but peace. She was trained as a warrior, she could fight and win, but what was there to fight for? To get home, to fight some faceless god that wanted her dead for a sin that wasn’t her own, to die anyway? What was the damned point of it all.

Alone, she was so fucking alone, and it was eating her alive.

“You’re still up.”

Her heart lurches in her chest, “Gods be damned, don’t do that.”

Azriel glides across the room, in that deadly silent way, spymaster indeed. She hadn’t even felt his approach like she usually did, that heavy feeling of being under his gaze, that feeling in her heart that whispered, he’s close. It was like it was suppressed, submerged under water, still there, but so so faint.

“I’m sorry.” He gives her a small grin that says quite the opposite, “Did I startle you?”

“Not at all,” she says, frowning up at him, “Where have you been? Babysitting not fun enough for you anymore?”

It’s easy to throw on that mask of sarcasm and arrogance, anything to hide the crushing weight on her shoulders.

“It was never fun to begin with.” He shrugs, taking a seat across from her, a glass of deep red wine appearing on the table before him, “I was dealing with court matters.”

She leans across the table and plucks the glass into her own hands, “Sounds riveting.”

The wine is sweet on her tongue as she drinks deeply, her eyes closed and her head tilted back. It soothes some of the rough edges of her, chips away at that ice.

She sighs as she finishes the glass, her eyes finding the male in front of her, who’s hazel gaze is firmly planted on her sighing lips. There’s a darkness in his gaze, different than the usual shadows, it’s deeper, it kindles that fire in her, a singular spark that could turn into a blaze. Maybe, it would be enough to burn away the thoughts that threaten to drag her down, down, down.

“That was mine,” he says quietly.

She smiles sweetly, “Was it? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

His eyes don’t move from her lips, “I’ve had a long day, Princess.”

“Oh do tell.” The glass in her hand fills on its own, a gift from the house, she sips slowly. “I do hope you weren’t sulking all day.”

Azriel leans forward, arms resting on the table between them. Earlier it had felt like the only barrier keeping them from tearing into each other, now, it felt much the same.

“Sulking over what, exactly?” His head tilts to the side, examining her, “Over a stubborn female who’s ready to run head first into her death?”

And just like that the fire turns from a gentle heat to a roaring in her blood, and not in the way she wanted it to. There was something about the way he looked at her, the infuriating way he’d looked all morning during their fight, that has her fire burning again. Fight, fight, fight. She wanted to fight and burn and take all of this storming emotion inside of her out on him, and it would seem he was finally ready to do the same.

“I see you’ve still got your panties in a twist over this,” she grins, showing off her canines, “Did you think you could just kiss me and I’d fall at your feet and let you go over protective fae male on me?”

His eyes drop to her lips, “I’d think you’d have wanted to actually survive long enough to make it home to your family.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she snaps, “But you and your busybody court won’t get out of my way.”

“So you can get yourself killed?” His gaze is darker, filled with that rage and something more, “So you can throw yourself in front of a vengeful god that wants you dead, leaving the portal open to it, get all of us killed in your reckless, idiotic, selfish attempt.”

He’s right, she knows that, whatever god has it out for her won’t stop until she’s dead, and after that, who knows what it will do with the lock. She sees his reasoning, she understands it, but she’s geared for a fight and that fire fuels her.

“If you’d let me try,” she snarls, “give me the damned book and figure out how to open the right gate-“

“No.” His voice is soft, a simmering heat lacing it, “You are not going anywhere near that book, you are not trying that fucking gate again, you are not leaving-“

“Leaving what, who? Leaving you?” There’s a raging fire in her eyes, in her blood, in the pit of her stomach, it begs for her to burn with it, she chases the feeling so she doesn’t feel the emptiness from before. “Was my mouth so good that you can’t stand to let me go?”

That narrow focus on her mouth sends a thrill through her, “Is it so shocking that I actually care about your wellbeing, you absolute fucking brat.”

Her grin is feline, “I have a feeling you like brats, shadowsinger.”

Azriel is standing, leaning over the table, wings flared in the perfect picture of a wrathful god. Her eyes skate over him, down those sculpted arms to the hands that look ready to wring her neck. He could easily wrap one of his large hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her, could make her see stars.

When her eyes travel back up to his, she could melt with the heat in them. This is exactly what she wanted, rile him up, get him to either punch her or fuck her, she didn’t quite care which, only that he made her feel something other than nothing.

“Listen, Princess.” Gods his voice was gravely, laced with anger and something that made her toes curl in her boots. “I see what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”

“And what exactly am I doing, Azriel” she lets her voice drop low when she says his name, lifting that glass of wine to her mouth.

His hand snaps out, practically ripping the glass from her hand, “You think you can get under my skin, make me angry enough, make me want to put you in your damned place.”

She was on fire, burning and burning. A noise almost slips off her tongue as he turns the glass, placing his mouth directly on the spot hers had been, and throws the whole thing back, the strong column of his throat on perfect display to her. A primal part of her wants to sink her teeth into the flesh and leave her mark on him.

Azriel slams the glass down on the table, a crack forming in its stem, “You want me to make you feel something, you want to act like a brat to hide how fucking scared and lonely you feel.”

The heat stops, everything stops as he continues, “You want me to be your gods damned distraction from that fucking void in your chest.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, standing to copy his stance, leaning across that table like she’d jump it and tear his throat out instead of laying her claim, “you’re a piece of shit, shadowsinger.”

He leans in closer, close enough she can smell the wine on his breath, “I’ll take you when you’re done being a coward, Princess.”

And like it meant nothing, that soul baring sentence, he turns and stalks out of the room, shadows trailing behind him like they were trying to stay.

The glass is flying through the air, shattering on the arch of the doorway, and those lingering shadows scatter.

He felt like he was that glass, exploding into a million pieces. It took every ounce of self control to keep walking, to keep dampening that bond he could so strongly feel now that he was aware of it. He could feel her on the other side of that tendril of shadow, raging, desperate, scared, and lonely. So gods damned lonely.

Azriel understood the feeling, he’d felt it all day since the moment Rhys has spoken those words, his mate. He’d collapsed, no longer able to support himself and he’d spent those agonizing hours crying, letting Cassian and Rhys bear his weight. How cruel was fate to bring her to him, this female of pine and snow and fire that reminded him of home, this female that would eventually have to leave him.

His mate, a storm of ice, wind, and fire on the other side of that tendril of shadow that connected them. His mate, the warrior who’d handed him his ass on more than one occasion, who could get beneath his skin more than anyone he’d ever known. His mate, the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

He’d felt her from the River house, the way her thoughts had spiraled out of control, the rage draining into nothingness, it scared the shit out of him, enough that he’d started to pull himself together, using his brothers to haul himself off the floor. It had taken longer than he would’ve liked to make himself presentable, to force his wings to work to take him to her, to dampen that bond so she wouldn’t feel the agony he was in.

When he’d seen her there, broken and lost, he needed to get her back, desperately needed her to come back from that edge. He was willing to shove his own agony into a box and put on a mask. He tugged once on that bond, begging her to fight it. And when she'd started to come back, when she started to play with him, he kept going, stoking that fire anyway he could, he brought back the rage from that morning, the desire in his blood, and they fought and pushed at each other.

He felt that primal urge to claim her right then and there, but he couldn't. He could feel her on the other side, feel the lust and fire, feel the despair hidden beneath. She wanted a distraction, not him, she wanted to hide from everything she was feeling and Azriel desperately wanted to do it, to take her over that table, over and over, to scream that she was his mate, to claim her as his. Instead he’d called her a coward, he really meant it about himself.

Azriel was terrified, to bare his soul only to have it ripped away through a gate across the stars. He would fall at her feet and she would still leave him, he wasn’t enough to make her stay, he knew that. She had a destiny, she would be a Queen in a far away land, and she would one day find a consort who would be able to stay by her side, love her, cherish her.

He felt sick. Barely making it to his room and into the bathroom before he heaved the contents of his stomach into the bowl. Azriel couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the spasms in his abdomen, couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face.

The mother was cruel, so very cruel.

Y/n couldn’t go back to her room, couldn’t be that close to him, she wasn’t sure what she would do if she was. Would she take her dagger to his throat, would she take all the rage in her blood and kill him, or would she cave into the desperate need to kiss him, to turn that anger into passion. Both options were bad ideas, enough that she begged the house to show her to a room as far away as possible.

When she woke with the sunrise, the unfamiliar room nearly sent her into a panic before the night before crashed back into her. All the pain and longing, the fire and rage, the numbness and loneliness. It was to much, these feelings, she felt like she was drowning in them, she needed to get out, get as far away as possible.

She was dressed and out the door, practically running down the halls to the closest balcony. The door was already open for her, the breeze welcoming her as she shifted and leapt of the edge, flying into the sunrise beyond.

She didn’t turn back, didn’t look to see the male who’s gaze she could feel like a brand across her back.

Two days had passed since Azriel watched her take off from the balcony across the house. He’d nearly flown after her, with how fast she was he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to catch her. But instead he just watched, watched as his mate flew as fast and as far away from him as she possibly could.

He’d waited for hours, scanning the skies for that majestic hawk form, but she didn’t come back. The bond grew fainter and fainter as she drifted farther and farther away. That was when the panic had set in. She didn’t know these lands, the creatures within, the fae who lurked in the shadows. Y/n was a warrior, a talented one at that, yet Azriel couldn’t help the fear that she would be hurt.

Cassian had found him on that ledge, had forced him inside, had forced him to eat, to sit down and gods damned breathe for a minute. And he’d stayed with him the rest of the day, through the night and the day after. The only thing that kept Azriel from losing control completely was that thread, no matter how faint, he could still feel her on the other side.

She was alive, burning, those swirling emotions screaming down the bond. Anger, despair, loneliness, longing, fear, so many emotions that mirrored everything Azriel felt. He wondered how much of it was her and how much of it was him.

By the end of the second day, sheer exhaustion had him falling into bed, his brother closing the door behind him to go find his own bed, his mate in it. Azriel was to tired to say anything, even the thank you Cassian deserved for staying with him, for holding him together.

Sleep took him, and he welcomed the blissful darkness.

Wake up, wake, she’s back, wake up, she’s here, outside, back. His body jolts, startled awake by the whispering shadows around his head. Even without them telling him, he knew she was back, could feel her close on the other side of that tether. Closer and closer she grew, coming down the hall towards him. He didn’t think, didn’t stop, just ran to the door, hauling it open to see her standing there, her back turned to him, hand resting on her own door.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

His voice is gravely, still heavy with sleep and lingering emotions that comes to the forefront as soon as her scent hits him.

“None of your business.” It lacks her usual snark, no heat behind it, “It’s late, I’m tired.”

His hand moves on its own, fingers wrapping around her bicep and pulling, rougher than he meant to be but in that moment he didn’t have it in him to care. He’d spent the last two days worrying, scared shitless over where she could be, he couldn’t control the fierce heat that rose in his blood.

She looks up at him, eyes ice cold, “What do you want?”

“Where have you been?” He repeats, each word sharp and short, “You can’t just disappear for two days and expect me to just-“

“Oh fuck off,” she snarls, “I don’t owe you shit, shadowsinger.”

He can feel the spark of anger in her, and it mirrors his own. She’d ran away, flown off to who knows where, and left him. She left him.

“It’s a simple question, Princess.” He pulls her closer to him, looking down at her, “Why do you have to make everything so difficult.”

She gives him one of those sweet little smiles that makes him see red, makes the reins on his control snap. His hand shoots up, wrapping behind her neck and gripping a handful of her hair, pulling so she’s looking up at him. Her mouth opens, most likely to yell at him, to snarl and snap those lethal teeth at his throat, but he doesn’t give her the chance.

Their lips crash together, viciously devouring each other. Azriel pours every emotion he had felt in the past few days into it, the heat and anger, the despair and loneliness, the desire. He decided then that he didn’t care, he would take what she would give him, would be her distraction, would lay his soul bear for her, would let her rip his heart from his chest to bring it with her when she left him behind. He didn’t care that it would kill him to let her leave, to let her leave and never know that he was her mate, he didn’t care, he needed her, needed to feel her, to worship her.

He holds her to him, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other gripping her hair to keep her exactly where he wants her. Her hand grips his arm, nails digging into the flesh, her other grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him impossibly closer.

There was no softness, no gentle touch and soft passion, it was hard and painful. Her teeth drawing blood from his lip where she bites him, his hand bruising her sides where he holds her.

“You’re a fucking prick,” she snarls against him, pulling away just enough that he can still feel her lips against his.

The hand in her hair roughly pulls, forcing her back so that he can look her in the eyes, he notes the small moan that she tries to hold back, “You’re infuriating, Princess.”

She presses closer to him and he almost hisses at the contact, “I can feel just how infuriated you are, shadowsinger.”

He lets go of her hair, reaching down to her thighs to hoist her up. Her legs wrap around his hips as he presses her body into the door behind her. The sound she makes almost brings him to his knees. He can feel her pressed against him, his cock straining in his leathers.

“I can’t stand you.” Her head falls back against the door, letting him trail his lips and tongue down her throat, “You insufferable male."

He finds her pulse and nips at the sensitive spot. It draws a heady sigh from her lips, he does it again just so he can hear that sweet sound. She claws at his back as he wraps is lips around that spot, writhing against him as he leaves a deep purple mark. Azriel has to grip her thighs even harder to keep her still, or he’d lose his mind completely and take her against the wall.

“Gods,” she pants, “Azriel please.”

He kisses that claiming mark, “Please what, Princess?”

She lets out a soft growl, pushing his face away from her neck. Her lips find his again, her nails digging painfully into his cheek. He groans into it and holds her up with one arm, using the other to unlatch the door. It swings open and he takes them inside, slamming it shut behind him. Only the soft moon light illuminates the space, Azriel doesn’t need it to find her bed.

He practically throws her onto the center of it, grinning at the feral hiss she lets out, “I’m not a damned rag doll, you bastard.”

Y/n props herself up on her elbows, looking up at him with those eyes on fire. She looks delicious in the soft light, hair a mess, lips swollen, that mark on her neck a deep dark purple. A sick sense of purely male pride overwhelms him, she would walk around with that bruise for days, and everyone would know she belonged to him.

“No of course not,” he smirks, slowly crawling onto the bed, over her, caging her in, “A rag doll wouldn’t talk back this much.”

“I hate you,” she sighs, glaring up at him.

“That’s fine.” It wasn’t, it was the opposite of fine. “You can hate me all you want.”

He doesn’t let her respond, doesn’t let her wield that poison tipped tongue to open the wound in his heart anymore. Instead, his scarred hands grip the soft material of her shirt and rips.

Azriel groans at the sight, and Y/n gasps as the chilled air drifts across her exposed chest. Soft and perfect, large and heavy, Azriel takes her in, the valley between that leads down to her belly, the curve of her waist, he devours her with his eyes. Her arms lift to cover herself but his fingers wrap around her wrists and pins them roughly above her head. He wouldn’t let her hide from him.

“Beautiful, so gods damned perfect,” he growls, leaning down to capture one of the peaks in his mouth.

Her back arches off the bed, pressing closer to his tongue, to his teeth that pinch the little bud, drawing a sharp gasp from her. He keeps her wrists in one hand, the other trailing down to her chest, gripping the soft flesh in his palm and squeezing. He groans against her, keeping his hold on her wrist despite the way she writhes and pulls against him. The most devastatingly melodic sounds fall from her lips, moans and pleading sighs.

“What do you want, Princess?” He asks, trailing kisses across her soft skin, leaving those claiming bruises as he goes, “Tell me what you want.”

“More,” she groans, hissing when he takes a nipple between his fingers, squeezing and rolling it without mercy, “More, I need more, I need to touch you.”

He grins, “Don’t be greedy, Princess.”

She growls and pulls against the hold on her wrists, desperately trying to break free of his iron grip. Of course she’d fight him, even now when he was ready to lay the world at her feet, she would fight him. He lets her win, lets her rip her hands from his, lets her use those claws to rip at his shirt, tearing it from his body like he’d done to her.

“Did that make you feel better?” He taunts, smirking at the way her eyes take him in.

“Shut up.”

Her hands trace the tattoos across his chest, nails dragging across him with just enough pressure to draw a hiss from his lips. Violent, wicked, beautiful. She was perfect, so damned perfect.

He drops his lips to the valley between her breasts, kissing down the plane of her stomach while his fingers deftly work at the ties of her leathers. Her hands drag through his hair, tugging at the strands as she gasps and moans at every touch.

Azriel makes quick work of her leathers, roughly tugging them down her thighs, throwing them behind them without care. Her scent washes over him, sweet arousal that has him growling low in his chest. The delicate black fabric covering her center is easy to tear off her body, revealing all of her to him.

“Look at you,” he groans, sitting back on his heels so he could see all of her, “Perfect, absolutely perfect.”

“I told you I was your type,” she breathes, that saccharine on her lips.

Azriel shifts, placing himself directly between her legs, his scarred hands pushing apart her thighs so he could see her dripping for him. His fingers dig into her strong thighs, more bruises for her to wear.

“Az,” she whines, glaring through her heavy lidded eyes, “don’t just stare, do some-“

Her pleas turn into desperate moans as he drops his head to her, laying down between her thighs so he can properly worship her. He runs is tongue directly over her center, tasting her like she was his last meal to savor. So impossibly sweet, her taste has him growling against her.

“Fuck, Az,” Y/n practically screams, rolling her hips as his tongue circles the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

He could do this for hours, flattening his tongue against her, sucking, biting, bringing out those noises that sound like music to his ears. The hands in his hair pull and push like she can’t tell if she needs him closer or to stop, he has to pin her to the bed with his arm to stop her from writhing away.

He can feel her on the other side of the bond no matter how hard he tries to dampen in, can feel the intense pleasure, it ripples through him, making him strain against his leathers uncomfortably. He has to press his hips into the bed to relieve some of the pain of it.

“Gods damnit,” she gasps, “Az, I- fuck.”

He’s half tempted to taunt her for the way she stumbles over the words, but to do that he’d have to take his mouth off of her and he wasn’t willing to do that. Instead, he takes is free hand, softly tracing it up her thigh, until it’s posed at her entrance. He uses a single scarred finger, dragging it through her wetness. Her hips desperately try to chase the digit and he laughs against her, sending a shiver through her at the vibration.

“Please,” she begs, and it’s the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, “Az, please.”

Azriel doesn’t hesitate to plunge into her, groaning at the feeling, grinding his cock into the bed. She’s moaning and cursing as he curls his finger to find that spot inside that would make her see stars, that would have her coming undone on his tongue. When she screams his name, he knows he’s found it and he keeps brushing the spot over and over as his mouth devours her clit. He adds a second finger, the tight stretch around them nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“Az, don’t stop,” Y/n gasps, head thrown back in pleasure, “please I-“

There on the other side of that tendril of shadow he feels the band in the pit of her stomach tighten and tighten. His tongue flattens against her, his fingers curl, and that band snaps.

He doesn’t stop, keeps rolling his tongue over her, keeps moving his fingers as the shocks run through her, his arm pinning her down as she writhes beneath him. Wave after wave after wave until she’s pulling away from him, trying to escape the pleasure that slowly turns into delicious pain.

“Az, please,” Y/n sobs, “I can’t, fuck, please.”

It takes more effort than he’s willing to admit to pry himself away, the way she gasps as his fingers pull out of her makes him want to go right back in. Addictive, she is absolutely addictive.

Y/n goes limp beneath him, panting like she’d ran a marathon, he’s half tempted to tease her for that too if she didn’t look so tired. Eyes heavy like she was fighting to stay awake.

It only hits him then that she had been out, Mother knows where, for days, flying far enough away that he could barely feel her through the bond. She had to be exhausted, and Azriel had throughly worn out any energy she might have had left.

He pulls away, tugging down the rumpled sheets. She doesn’t acknowledge what he’s doing, not until he’s carefully wrapping his arms around her, one behind her back the other below her legs. She’s almost limp in his arm as he gently lays her at the head of the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asks, voice hoarse, “What about you?”

His cock was begging for attention, begging for her hand, for her mouth, for her cunt. He’d need to take care of himself to get rid of the aching need.

Azriel brings the duvet up to her chin, “I’m fine, Princess. You need to sleep.”

“But-“

He grins down at her, leaning down to brush his lips across her cheek, “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet. I have a whole list of ways to ravish you. You’ll be begging me to let you sleep.”

A soft whine, “Az, I want-“

“Sleep, Princess.” He stands, moving towards the door, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Azriel has to force himself to take each step away from her when everything in him is screaming for him to turn around and take everything she had to offer. His shadows plead with him to stop, to do just that, pulling back towards her against the tight reins he keeps on them.

“Az.” The softest whisper, he almost doesn’t hear it, “Stay, please.”

Y/n looks at him, those eyes still heavy with sleep and an emotion so raw, so open, that he can’t help it when he says, “Of course, Princess.”

Tag list

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 , @thisiskaylin , @wolfgirl624 , @khaleesihavilliard , @fluffy-bnny , @mariahoedt , @durgenyx , @glitterypirateduck , @byyalady , @amberlynn98 , @ferrarisbitch , @a-cup-of-nightshade , @breella , @hnnybee0 , @superspideyparker , @that-one-little-soybean , @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife , @websterss , @sassybluebird , @fakesocialmediaa , @balsalmic-vinegar , @lees-chaotic-brain , @yashiw , @a-mexican-waffle , @thefairlyaveragegatsby , @tele86 , @emidpsandia , @nickishadow139 , @basicwhiterat

#these two have zero idea how to properly communicate #gone is that soft early morning talk #we’re here for the pure horniness #also I have written smut like once before so let me know if this is trash or not #you cannot convince me that Azriel is not a brat tamer #Rhys was wrong when he said Az is not the ravishing type #acotar #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin #not again

[violetsiren90]

The Light of Your Eyes

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: one-shot; friends to lovers; smut and fluff; hurt/comfort

Summary: Can the gentle touch of an unexpected pair of hands on your body heal the wounds of your soul?

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), age gap romance (consenting adults); mentions of break-up and unhealthy past relationship dynamics; depression and anxiety symptoms (mild); MC has self esteem struggles, some are body-image related; the ex was low-key emotionally abusive tbh 😒; depictions of alcohol consumption (no drunkenness); depictions of food and eating (MC has a moment of negative thought patterns in regards to food consumption); gaming/watching movies; emotional breakdowns; kissing (so much kissing, guys); Fluffy fluffy FLUFF 💕; making out; interrupted shenanigans; cuddling; shirtless Binnie 👀; strong and gentle Binnie 🥺💘 ; working through FEELINGS 😅 ; breast play; nudity; oral sex (f. receiving); feedbag position; confessions and new beginnings.

Word Count: ~9300

Author's Note: Well, here it is - my first Binnie fic! I wanted to make it as sweet and sexy as he is...which, I know, is impossible, so I gave it my best shot! Hopefully, it's something worthy of his face-claim. I'm not going to make any judgements as to whether I feel it fits the bill, but rather like the man himself, tell you to be the judge of your own opinions! Jutdae!! 😂💗 But in all seriousness, if you decide to read this story, thank you! I hope it brings you something warm and fuzzy!

*The poem at the beginning is an original, and is what inspired this story!

Acknowledgements: I cannot thank @moni-logues enough for beta reading this for me, and for all her hype and humor and general human decency - this story wouldn't be what it is without her! 💖

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

    

the

Bright color of my laughter and the

Melody of the curve of my hips and the

Soft velvet of my irises

     seemed

To have taken their first breath,

Opening gently - like flowers perfuming my soul

- When bathed in the light of your eyes.

"Changbin? What are you doing here?"

     "I could ask you the same question," he says with a little smirk, whipping a dish towel over his shoulder as he shuffles back to let you in.

     Fair enough, you suppose. You are showing up without notice. Not that you ever need to give his sister any notice - as your best friend, there's a key with all the others in your purse that unlocks the door you're closing behind you. You wouldn't have even knocked had his car not been parked in the driveway.

     "Where's Nari?" you ask, glancing at the gaming console hooked up to the massive flat-screen, and a bullet blender cup half filled with something thick, pale and probably protein-packed sitting on the coffee table.

     "She went out of town for the weekend," he calls, heading back toward the dining area. "Last minute work thing." 

     Damn. 

     Your apartment is boring and barren and lonely. You wanted to hang out. You've been coming around more than usual – almost as often as when you were in grad school together. But Nari had her own life, you understood. You had your own life too.

     And then three months ago, on New Years Eve, your long-term boyfriend called it quits. It wasn't as if you were heartbroken. Not really. The relationship had been sick and slowly dying. But returning to a life lived in solitude was proving a difficult adjustment – especially navigating the new and constant stillness which left you the mental space and dexterity to run up against the shadows of wounds unhealed. And you didn't feel like growing into your EQ. You felt like distracting yourself. So you ended up at your bestie's place more often than not, these days.

     You sigh, trailing toward the kitchen. You won't stay long - if her younger brother is house sitting, he'll probably have people coming over. It's Friday night, after all, and he's twenty-four years young.

    The sound of running water, and music from a little speaker playing a catchy beat laced with fast-paced rap draws you into the warmly-lit, open kitchen. You recognize the voice on the track.

     "This new?" you ask, dropping your bag on a barstool and rounding the island to where Changbin is up to his elbows in suds at the sink. He's in a black band tee and bright blue joggers, his curly dark hair unstyled.

    He looks over his shoulder and nods.

    "What do you think? Wait, no, lemme start it over..."

     You smile to yourself as he hastily dries his hands and whips out his phone, pulling the track back to the beginning. He braces himself against the edge of the sink, gnawing on his bottom lip as he bobs his head with the lyrical punches and runs. 

     You smile to yourself, leaning your back against the counter beside him.

     "This is good, Bin," you nod earnestly. 

     "Yeah?" he asks, returning to his soapy task.

     "It really is. Hyunjin's pretty damn fast. Not as fast as you, but who is?" 

You grin, bumping your hip into his side.

     He smirks down into the bubbles.

     He's wanted to make music for as long as you've known him, and even fifteen years ago he could spit out a diss track that would have you wetting yourself laughing. He and his buddy, Hyunjin, met in high school and started messing around with music senior year. They committed to the dream, and both worked full-time gigs - Hyunjin as a tattoo artist and Changbin as a personal trainer - while promoting their artistry in their spare time. Production was a tough road to take when they were counting on nothing but raw talent and guts, but you'd always been an unflinching supporter.

     "We've got a gig next Saturday...at The Eight Ball," he remarks, looking over at you as a proud smile presses a tiny dimple into his bread cheek.

     "What?!" you squeal, turning to smack him on the arm. "Dude, that's fantastic! Oh my god, congratulations!"

     "Thanks, and ouch!" he replies, rubbing his arm with a pout that you ignore. It couldn't possibly have hurt him, not with those biceps.

     He moves to the fridge, a grin still plastered on his face.

     "You should come!" he urges over his shoulder as he appraises his sister's stash before grabbing an energy drink. "I know the boyfriend isn't into rap, but you could come with Nari..."

     You scoff softly.

     "Doesn't really matter what he likes anymore," you mumble bitterly.

     Changbin freezes as he's about to crack open the beverage in his hand.

     "Wait, what? Did you guys...is that over?"

     You purse your lips and nod. Changbin looks completely taken off guard in a way that surprises you. 

“When did that happen?”

You reach back to clutch at the cold tile of the countertop.

“Beginning of the year.”

He scratches his head.

“Nari didn’t…why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug, your eyes falling. For reasons you'd never considered, you’d rarely brought your ex around or even brought him up to Changbin. 

He turns to the still open fridge and swaps out his energy drink for two beers, opening both and sliding one across the island between you.

     "How you holding up?" he asks in earnest concern, a little furrow appearing between his dark brows.

     You want to tell him that you're fine - it's what you've been telling everyone else - but from the way he holds your gaze before letting his eyes search your face, he's looking for a real answer. You pull your lip between your teeth. You're not ready to form the words that spell the truth. He sees it.

    "Ah," he waves dismissively, "Fuck that guy. You're too good for him anyway. What an idiot."

      You blink, a little smirk tugging at your lips.

     "You don't have to hate on him just because we're-"

     "I'm hating on him because I hate him," he stares at you unflinchingly, taking another swig of his beer. "He wasn't good to you, didn't make you happy. I'm glad he's gone. Seriously, fuck him."

     You didn't expect that sort of reaction out of Changbin. Not that you expected anything, but the strong, certain tone he took in regards to your ex's unworthiness has a tiny little warmth glowing in your chest. It was like him to feel strongly and take a stand, but to have his conviction aimed at you...

     "Thanks, Bin," you murmur softly, hiding your smile behind your beer.

     The young man nods, and his lips part as if to speak when his phone buzzes in his pocket. As he answers the call - clearly, from the nature of his greeting, one of his buddies - you're reminded that you’re trespassing on his Friday night. Draining your beer, you grab your bag and slip out of the kitchen. 

     You huff a little sigh as you pull on your shoes, lingering listlessly for a moment before pulling open the door. The thought of going home has your stomach churning. You can't go back and be alone there. 

You can't.

     You have to.

     How pathetic could you possibly get? you consider sickly, staring out into the darkness. Your self-loathing and mounting anxiety battle for dominance as you will yourself to take the step over the threshold that will carry you to your car…

     Click.

     The door swishes shut, and you blink in confusion before you note a bulky arm stretched over your shoulder, hand pressed to the wooden frame below the peephole.

     You turn into Changbin's frame and he jostles backwards, hand dropping to your shoulder.

     "Where do you think you're going?" he asks, a little smirk playing on his lips.

     You try to get your bearings as you resurface from the flash flood of inner turmoil, blinking up at him in confusion.

     "Uuhh...home?" you answer, jerking a thumb back toward your intended exit.

     Changbin shakes his head. 

     "You just got here."

     "Well...I came to see Nari but she's gone, so..." 

     When the faintest shadow of hurt seems to flicker over his features at your words, you stammer to clarify.

     "Bin, it's Friday, I- you've got plans, right? I don't want to be in the way...Like, it's really nice seeing you don't get me wrong, but, it would suck to have one of your sister's random friends underfoot if you're...if..."

     You trail off. He's watching you in amusement now, arms crossed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked just a little higher than the other.

     "What?" you press him, now a bit self-conscious at your rambling and still on edge from the surging anxiety of moments ago. 

     Damn, what was with you? You'd been a mess lately, and now you couldn't even get your words out with Nari's kid brother?

     "I do have plans."

     Changbin's words interrupt your muddled self-assessment. You glance up at him.

     What? Okay, that's what you had been trying to...

     "I plan to kick your ass at Super Smash Bros Brawl," he quips, turning to round the couch and settle in front of it before reaching for the blue controller discarded on the coffee table.

     Huh?

     You watch him start up the game and move through selections. Shuffling toward the back of the couch, you place your hands on it. He wants to hang out? Now that he found out you'd been dumped. Nari's away, so he's falling into stride, you think to yourself. You sigh. You should be grateful. Instead, you feel like a burden.

     "Um, Bin..." you murmur, "You don't have to do this..."

     "Do what?" he asks without looking back. "I'm not going easy on you, if that's what you mean. And I'm using Kirby - nonnegotiable."

     Your heart melts a little as your eyes rest on him. He's always been a good guy, and it was like him to do this sort of thing - look out for someone when they were feeling low. Leaving simply because you don't feel worthy of his care and attention risks hurting him more than you.

     You slowly slip out of your shoes and cross into the living room, retrieving a red controller from atop the console before sinking onto the carpet beside him. You toggle through your choices before landing on Link. Changbin glances over at you disparagingly. 

     "Link sucks."

     "Kirby sucks."

     "Hey!" Changbin, practically shouts in your ear, "Don't insult my widdle cutie guy..."

     You grimace theatrically at the baby talk.

     "Don't ever do that again."

     "Or what?" Changbin challenges as he immediately unleashes a combo move that has your character hurtling toward the edge of the battle stage.

     You hop around, avoiding him and trying out different button combos. It's been forever since you played this game. Your ex had been a Halo enthusiast. You were never big on first person shooters, but you tried to get into it for his sake. He hadn't the patience to help you learn, though, and after a couple of sessions of grimaces and apologies on your behalf mumbled into his headset, he'd stopped taking you up on your offers to join him. 

     Kirby darts back and forth across the screen after you on stubby pink legs. Eventually you get the hang of things and are returning his attacks, though he easily bests you in an embarrassingly short sequence of moves.

     "Sorry, I'm no good at video games," you mumble apologetically. 

     The smug look falls from Changbin's face.

     "Why are you sorry?" he raises a brow, dropping his controller into his lap, a little smile still playing on his lips.

     You shrug. His smile fades.

     "Who says you're no good?"

     Shit.

     You shift your focus to the screen and toggle for a new character.

     "Best two out of three."

     You can feel his eyes still on you as you opt for Princess Peach.  

     Two out of three turns into five out of eight, and around eleven out of twenty, the doorbell rings. When Changbin turns in surprise toward the sound, you take the opportunity to deliver a critical blow, winning your first match of the night. He rolls his eyes as you giggle wickedly and moves to answer the door.

     You pull your phone from your pocket reflexively to check the socials you've deleted, before sighing and tossing it across the room to land on the carpet with a thud.

     "Did you just throw your phone?" 

     Glancing over your shoulder, you catch him shooting you a quizzical look over a stack of pizza boxes tall enough to feed a small army. Clambering to your feet you trail after him into the kitchen.

     "You do have plans, you liar!" you elbow him as he opens the top box and pulls out a slice, hissing as the melted cheesy overflow burns the tips of his fingers.

     "Ow!" he snaps up a napkin and cradles it under the steaming piece of pizza, shaking his other hand before holding up his fingers in front of you.

     "Blow on 'em," he whines.

     You raise your eyebrows.

     "You're joking."

     He pouts and you want to laugh. This big, grown man is seriously going to give you the lip right now?

     "That's what you get for having no patience, Bin..." you tsk disapprovingly. 

     He lets out a little disappointed sigh.

     "Meanie..." he grumbles, and lets his hand fall.

     You return your focus to the obscene amount of food now stacked on Nari's kitchen table. 

     "So, I'm sure people are going to start showing up, so I'm just gonna..."

     Changbin hands you a paper plate with two slices of pizza and heads to the fridge where he fishes out two more beers. You stare at the plate in your hand.

     "I...Bin..." 

     "What, you don't like sweet potato?" he asks with a smirk, cracking open a can and handing it to you. 

     You blink at him in confusion. 

     "Please enjoy this meal compliments of Han Jisung, who never remembers to update the address on his delivery app. Now, load up on pizza and let’s get back to it because I'm not trying to let you act like you came out on top from winning that last match on a fluke."

     You scoff at his last remark. Watching him pile several slices onto his plate, you take a bite of yours. It tastes good, and you realize as it hits your stomach that you haven't eaten all day. When was the last time you ate a real meal? When was the last time you wanted one? 

     "Noona?" 

     Changbin's voice makes you realize you had zoned out and when you blink up at him, there's just nine inches of disposable dinnerware between you. His lips are pursed and his eyes trace your features, their gaze gentle but searching. 

    "You alright?" he asks.

     There it is again; the concern. He isn't just checking in. His voice is soft and low, like his eyes. As a rule, Changbin's voice is strong, resonant - saying everything from his chest without even trying. So when he's gentle, when he pulls himself back...

    "Do you miss that guy?" he murmurs.

     "No!" 

You say it so quickly.

     Changbin nods.

     "I'm just..." Fuck, why are you suddenly so emotional? "I think I'm...adjusting. Y'know?"

     He nods again slowly. Then he reaches up and touches your face, dragging his thumb over the side of your mouth and suddenly your brain waves flat-line. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but before you can even process what's happening, he drops his hand to swipe it on a napkin.

     "Had sauce on your face," he mumbles, and you can't read his.

     His mouth is tugged up in a small smile but somehow it looks sad, and his eyes look like they're still asking a question that was never really answered. Before you can consider any further, he picks up his plate and heads back toward the living room.

     You follow him, still half in your head.

     When you sit down next to him, there's something hanging unspoken in the foot and a half of space between your bodies. Something has shifted, gone taut. 

     Shit, had you made him uncomfortable? Why had you stared at him like a weirdo when he...wait, he touched you...

     Your eyes shift over to where he sits beside you. He runs a hand through the wavy hair over his ear. Has he always been so beautiful? He turns quick enough to catch you staring and you put your plate out of your lap. The pizza smells so good but suddenly you can't touch it.

     Changbin initiates another round, which you lose in record time. Your stomach grumbles.

     "You better eat if you're going to have any hope of beating me again," he goads, finishing off his third slice to abandon the crust with the others on his plate before launching another game.

     "I had enough," you deflect, pushing your plate toward him.

     "You took two bites."

     "I need to cut back."

     "Like...go on a diet?"

     "Yeah."

     His brows furrow and his tongue slips between his lips as he sends Kirby into a hammer flip that lands as a critical hit and you wince.

"What have you eaten today?"

"What?"

     "You heard me."

     "I...I don't know. I..."

     Your stomach twists. The hunger is there, but so is the anxiety. The fear of being judged for eating too much or too quickly or...

     The game pauses. Your plate slides back toward you over the carpet.

     "The rest of that piece. Or whatever else you want. But something." 

     His voice is gentle but firm. You sigh.

     "Fine," you murmur, grabbing the half-eaten slice.

     You take a bite, and slowly raise your eyes to his as they regard you patiently.

     "Sorry," you mumble, covering your mouth, shifting away from him.

     "Why now?"

     "I make gross noises when I eat."

     "What? No you d-" 

     A hand tugs at your elbow. When you look back toward him his handsome face holds so many things, and you watch as they take turns seizing his features. Horror...pity...anger.

     "Who told you that?" he asks lowly, but it doesn't sound like a question. "Noona..."

     He squeezes your elbow.

     You feel everything you've been shoving down in your chest begin to well up. 

Fuck, no! 

Your lip trembles.

He's shifting to face you.

You shake your head and press your eyes shut.

Your hand is encompassed in a larger one.

     "It's lies, all of it," Changbin whispers with desperate conviction...and your dam breaks.

     He pulls you into his arms as you sob with abandon. One of his hands encircles your waist tugging you against his broad, warm chest, and the other slips to brush tenderly over your nape as you tuck your face into his neck. 

     "He's a liar...shhhh...he's a lying piece of shit," he insists earnestly, into your hair. "You're perfect. He's the one who needs to fix himself. You're so, so perfect." 

     Perfect? You let your heart hold the word in its palm for one precious moment before pushing it away. Your heart had never been one to accept gifts it didn't think it deserved.

     You weep and weep in his strong arms until you run out of tears, and then he holds you while you breathe. As the catharsis of your breakdown begins to settle in, you wonder at the comedown - a softer, warmer one than you've ever known – and you consider the loveliness that has broken your fall.

     Soft and firm, everywhere he touches you. And warm. So warm. Not just the heat radiating from his body like a furnace – the velvet rasp of his voice, the absolute and unfaltering nature of his embrace.

     Your hands move tentatively against his back. Soft cotton stretches and bunches between your fingers over his sturdy frame. Where your face is pressed to his collar every breath draws in a comforting combination of detergent and cologne. When you close your eyes and sigh, letting your weight sink against him further, you feel his arms tighten in response. 

     "Sorry," you croak feebly.

     "Stop," he implores you, "Every time you apologize, I want to sock that guy in the face."

     "I...I'm so stupid, I didn't even really realize..."

     "No," his arms squeeze you again, "He had your trust. It was his job to protect you."

     Protected. That's how you feel right now. Safe. So, so safe. Letting him hold you and reassure you felt good...it felt right. But yet again, the voice in your mind that liked to remind you how much of a burden you always were speaks up in a sickly whisper.

     You pull yourself slowly from his arms and off his lap. Drawing yourself up to stand, you wipe your hot cheeks, puffy red eyes finding his like the needle of a compass. Unprepared for what awaits you in his gaze, your knees nearly give out beneath you.

     Changbin is looking up from where he kneels before you, the yearning in his eyes unchecked as they burn with  an unasked question and an unspoken promise.

     "I should go," you whisper, barely able to form the words.

     "Don't," he says, standing.

     "If I stay I'll just wreck your night," you mumble.

     "You could never," he insists, lips tugging into a little smile. His eyes are still pleading.

     "Changbin..." you breathe, suddenly drowning again in the fizzy serotonin his words ignite in your chest. "You don't want..."

     "You let me be the judge of what I want."

     His hands find your arms and he pulls you in. There are centimeters between you. His eyes rest on your lips. Your heart hammers in your ears as your brain begins to malfunction the way it had when he touched your face...

     "D-do I have something on my-"

     Mouth? His.

    The whole of your being floods with something beautiful and ineffable at the touch of his lips and no voice, no doubt, no force in the world could be stronger than the one that pulls you into him. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck and tug yourself impossibly closer. His hands drop to your waist, pressing desperately in kind, and your bodies mold together. You flush with heat, sparks igniting in your belly and skittering through your veins as his lips move against yours. He stumbles back, pulling you with him as his knees buckle at the edge of the couch, and your body spills over his lap.

Your fingers card into his hair.

His hands drop to the back of your hips.

Your tongue brushes his bottom lip.

He moans.

     At the gorgeous, deep sound from his chest, you pull back, fighting the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth. What the fuck is happening right now? You don't get much time to consider as his head falls against the backrest and his eyes flutter open.

     "Sorry," he grins bashfully. The tips of his ears burn pink.

     "Now who's apologizing for no reason?" you tease, pressing your hands to his chest.

     He smiles so sweetly in return you feel you might physically melt. And then the smile fades and the lids of his eyes grow heavy and he leans up to claim your mouth.

     His lips taste the same as a moment ago, but their press is slower, hungrier. His hands are powerful and assertive as they hook under your thighs and pull your hips flush against his own in a single tug. You gasp softly against his lips and you feel his smirk. You feel his smirk and something else - something beginning to press up into your ass through your jeans.

     Licking into his mouth, you push down, grinding your hips over his in a slow, deliberate undulation. The groan that falls from his lips unlocks something inside of you that needs to know every sound he makes and how to elicit them. Your mouth drops to his neck.

     Suddenly, he's gripping your waist and pivoting to lay you on the cushions, slotting himself between your legs. You're still dizzy from the sudden rush of movement, when your legs curl around his hips and over his ass and–

     A loud buzzing from the coffee table has you mourning the press of Changbin's lips to your throat as he glances at the caller ID. 

     "Shit!" he scrambles to sit up, hand still gripping your thigh above your knee when he presses the phone to his ear.

     "Hey," he runs a hand through his hair. "What? Nothing. No, I didn't forget. I will, I will."

     You recognize his tone of voice. There could only be one person on the other end of the line. You sit up, your head beginning to clear as the reality of the situation washes over you.

     "Okay, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Be safe. Love you." 

Changbin presses the end-call button and tosses the phone onto the cushion beside him. He leans back against the couch and claps his hand against your leg with a sigh.

     "She really knows how to wreck a moment for me."

     You crack a wry smile.

     "I mean, it's probably for the best that we don't desecrate your sister's couch."

     His eyes widen as horror, disgust, and amusement wage war across his features. You burst into a fit of giggles. He feigns a gag. You laugh so hard that you snort.

     "S-sorry," you clap your hand over your mouth, still tittering while your ears heat in embarrassment.

     Changbin's face softens again. He reaches for your hand and pulls it from your face, threading his fingers through yours.

     "Cut it out."

     "What? I can't be embarrassed about snorting like a pig?"

     "No. It's cute," he smirks.

     "It is not!"

     "Mhm. Everything you do is cute."

     He glances over at you, a lopsided smirk on his perfect lips, his eyes sparkling. He means it.

     You fluster, gaze dropping to your enjoined hands, and concentrate on tracing little patterns on the back of his with your thumb. He sighs.

     "Wanna watch a movie?"

     The request takes you by surprise and your heart squeezes. If it was any other guy, the night would have been over. For the fourth time tonight, you had been about to head for the door, and for the fourth time, Changbin makes you feel wanted. So you stay.

     You grab a big, fluffy blanket from the basket in Nari's room, and when you return, Changbin has the lights dimmed and Your Name ready to go on the TV. You smile as you settle in beside him, tossing half the blanket over his widespread legs.

     "We don't have to watch this just because it's my favorite, you know," you insist, but he shakes his head.

     "Taki's ma' boy," he smirks, shooting you a glance as he presses play on the remote.

     You're not quite sure what it means, but you feel your heart skip a beat just the same.

You love this movie. You love that you've seen it enough times that you can talk through it. You love that Changbin is more than willing to talk over the film himself. You're not certain when it happened, but by halfway through the movie his arm is stretched out behind your shoulders and your head rests on his bicep.

     "Do you remember seeing this together in the theater?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head toward yours.

     You grin.

     "You cried and Nari gave you shit about it," you recall.

     "You bailed me out. Told her all the sniffling was you. Never even teased me about it either."

     Changbin smiles down at you, his eyes sentimental.

     Butterflies flutter their delicate wings in your ribcage. How does he make you feel this way?

Your eyes dip to his lips for a moment. Sighing, you nuzzle into his shoulder, hiding your face as much as seeking his warmth. His arm slips off the back of the couch to curl around your shoulders and pull you into his side. The movie plays on.

     When the credits roll, Changbin stretches and yawns, and watching him it dawns on you that, working at a fitness center, he's an especially early riser.

     "We should call it a night," you offer, standing and stretching yourself, but you're tugged back down into Changbin's lap, yelping as you topple onto him.

     His arms encircle your hips as he regards you with a sleepy grin.

     "What, do I live here now?" you tease.

     "Stay the night," he urges, tightening his arms around you. "You really want to drive back now?"

     You chew your lip, eyes tracing over his face. This is all more than a bit unreal, and you haven't given yourself even one second to process what's happening, lest you utterly panic. All you know right now is that your little ship had been sinking and he had hauled you into a lifeboat. Everything outside of him seems like a raging sea.

     You nod.

     "Okay," you whisper, combing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll stay.” 

     His eyes dip shut at your touch and the butterflies flutter gently once more.

     A few minutes later, you take Nari's room and slip into a pair of her cotton shorts, which do basically nothing to contain your ass, and tug on a plain white tee that stretches snugly over your torso. How a big guy like Changbin could have emerged from the same genetic pool as his teeny tiny sister was beyond you. As you glance in the mirror, your heart sinks. You don't like how the tight fit is pressing you out everywhere you're most self-conscious. But, they are just pajamas, and they're all you have at your disposal.

     As you're about to head into the master bathroom to finish your nightly routine, you remember that the toothbrush and toiletries you keep on hand at Nari's are in the little half-bath attached to the guest room. You groan, glancing at yourself again in the mirror, and pull a blanket around yourself before crossing the hall.

     Hoping Changbin hasn’t yet fallen asleep, you knock hesitantly on the door. You hear the bed creak before the door opens to reveal a head of mussed hair and hands scrubbing over bleary eyes. But it's not what you notice. Your apology for rousing him dies on your lips as your eyes glue themselves to his bare chest. Blinking dumbly, your eyes climb from his soft stomach subtly rippling with the presence of strong abdominals up to a pair of impressive pecs with wide-set, dusky nipples. His flannel pajama pants settle at his hips, accentuating how his body broadens as it rises from his waist to his full chest and wide shoulders flanked by bulging biceps. Thick. He's so fucking thick you could bi-

     "...Noona?" he rumbles, his voice husky from sleep. "What's wrong?"

     "Nothing...sorry..." you rush out, ripping your gaze up to his. "My toothbrush is in your room – I mean! in your bathroom. That's where I usually stay, so...but I didn't think you'd be asleep. Sorry, I can just..." 

     He rubs over one of his eyes with his palm as he steps aside.

     "You can grab it."

     Right. You shuffle in awkwardly, trying not to step on the blanket dragging around your feet. As you cross the dark room, you try not to dwell on the rumpled sheets of the bed that speak of his body having lain between them, or the soft smell of his cologne hanging in the air. You quickly retrieve the little toiletry bag and, as you move to squeeze past Changbin at the door, he eyes the fluffy shroud you're clutching to your chest.

     He raises a sleepy eyebrow.

     "I'm sure Nari has pants you could..."

     "I'm wearing pants!" you bluster, "They just...don't fit."

      You move out of the doorway to make your way back to your room, but a hand cups the side of your face and turns it as soft lips meet your forehead. 

     "Good night, noona," he murmurs with a little smile before retreating back into his room.

     You stand in the hall, staring at his door, the butterflies absolutely aflurry.

     Despite your best efforts, you can't sleep. Your mind is full of the last five hours. Full of Changbin.

     He had kissed you. You had kissed him back. And it had felt...

     You roll from your side to your back, sighing up at the dark ceiling. You chew on your lip as you remember breaking down and his arms around you. You would usually feel regretful and ashamed after baring yourself like that to someone. You despised moments of weakness. But you couldn't bring yourself to hate the moments in his arms. You didn't regret them. In fact, you wanted him to hold you again. You wanted to feel vulnerable in his hands, and you wanted him to keep you safe.

     You feel heat rush up from your neck as you recognize these feelings.

     You must be absolutely shameless, you conclude in wonder. You should be freaking out right now - this was Changbin, for Christ's sake – Nari's brother! You should be wondering what happens next, and what all of it means...but even so you can’t bring yourself to care. All your mind can focus on is how his arms felt like waking up after a nightmare to song birds and soft sunlight.

     After an hour or so of tossing and turning, the salty pizza from dinner has you parched and slipping out to the kitchen for a drink. You pull a glass from the cupboard and fill it at the fridge, gulping down the contents to refill it again. Suddenly, you feel two strong arms snake around your waist and you start, sloshing your water and smacking the back of your head into the man holding you. You hastily set your glass down and turn in his arms as he lets out a groan, one of his hands releasing you as it flies up to cup the front of his face in pain.

     "Bin, oh my god! Are you okay? You scared me!" you chide with a chuckle as you reach up to push his hand away and brush the tips of your fingers across his nose. 

    He pouts down at you and you smile.

     "Did I wake you?"

     He huffs.

     "Yeah. To get your toothbrush. Then I couldn't go back to sleep."

     "Sorry," you groan, still stroking over where you had struck his face. "Does it hurt?" 

     He nods.

     "Kiss it better," he mumbles cutely.

     You roll your eyes, but lift your lips to comply when suddenly he interrupts the motion with the soft press of his mouth to yours. It's slow and sweet, and you're struck all over again with how quickly you melt at his touch - a sensation you cannot imagine ever growing accustomed to, but to which you are fairly certain you are in danger of growing entirely addicted.

     "Bin..." you whisper against his lips, "Bin, what are we-"

     "Liar," he murmurs, pulling back.

     Your mouth parts in confusion as you stare up at him, still drunk on his lips.

     "You said the clothes didn't fit. You should wear this all the time," he smirks as he squeezes low on your waist.

     Your cheeks heat as you remember what you're wearing, but you don't have long to be anxious over it as he presses his lips to your nose...the corner of your mouth...your jaw. You tremble as you lean into him, fingers splaying over his warm, bare chest.

     "Let me show you," he whispers against your skin.

     "Sh-show me...what...?"

     He draws back, pressing his forehead to yours.

     "How perfect you are."

     You still, eyes flicking up to his. They're dark and tender and pleading. You let out a little shuddering breath.

     "I...you don't have t-"

     His arms hold you closer, gentle but insistent.

     "Let me," he whispers, the tip of his handsome nose brushing over the dip of your cupid's bow. "Please. I want to."

     You swallow, eyes dropping to his lips. You want it too, you find. You want his hands and lips and eyes all over you, bringing warmth everywhere they meet your aching body. You nod and take his lips again with yours. 

     "Yeah?" he murmurs against them.

     "Yeah," you breathe, slipping a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair.

     He groans in response, deepening the kiss as he licks at your parted lips and when your tongues brush, sparks burst in your belly. You feel it all slipping, the masks, the walls - every barrier you hold up to shield yourself from not being enough. His arms are strong and his lips are tender and you can't focus on anything but the perfection of being so utterly held.

     His mouth moves to caress your jaw, under your ear, down the column of your neck, and suddenly you feel the edge of the counter pressing into the small of your back. His hands grip your waist and he hitches you onto the tiled surface with ease. It's cold against your bare legs, but you don't have more than a second to register the discomfort as Changbin nudges his way between your knees. He runs his hands over your thighs as his eyes trail from your panting lips to your lightly heaving chest.

     You feel your nipples pebble under his gaze and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief as he runs a hand up your side, over your shirt, to rest under the swell of your breast. He flicks a thumb over the hardened bud and you whimper and jump. He laughs softly, his smirk spreading into a full smile as he squeezes your breast and brings his eyes to yours.

     "Your pretty body likes me, noona," he puffs proudly, massaging you deftly through the soft cotton of the tee.

     You don't have a witty retort. Your body likes him so much that it frightens you. And with the deep affection you already feel, have long felt, for him...

     You reach to gently tangle your hand again in his coarse, dark curls. He glances up, a sweet little smirk tugging at his pretty lips again. 

     "Bin..." you sigh.

     "Hmm?" he hums as he slips his hands to your bottom and tugs you forward so that you're flush against him.

     You dip your head and your lips ghost his.

     "Nothing," you whisper, and you kiss him again. Again and again.

     His hands slide from your ass to slip beneath your shirt at your lower waist and he kneads the soft flesh above your hips.

     "So soft. Feels so good," he groans into your mouth.

     You moan as the walls of your pussy contract. You're beginning to ache, beginning to drip – and his words seem to affect you as intensely as his touch.

     He moves his lips to latch onto the soft skin of your neck and suck, his hands bunching your shirt up and up until his mouth pops free from your skin and he's pulling the thin garment over your head and tossing it aside. The cool air pricks your skin and you become keenly aware, for the briefest moment, that you are sitting on your best friend's kitchen counter, stripped down to her sleep shorts, with her brother between your thighs. As your brain races to decide whether to find that incredibly arousing or absolutely panic-inducing, Changbin's cherry lips rewire your neurological pathways in favor of the former when they close around your right nipple. Your head lolls back, colliding with the cabinet door and it clatters. 

     "Shit..." you hiss softly, threading your hands into his hair and gripping it by the roots.

     Your eyes slip shut and you focus on the sensation of his warm tongue slipping over the peaks of your breasts, his strong, smooth palms cupping and caressing. And then you feel his little puffs of breath and the nudge of his nose at the valley of your chest as he groans and smushes your tits up to meet his face. 

     "I fucking live here now," he mumbles into the globe of your breast, and despite the heat of the moment, you softly laugh. You laugh and you feel his smile pressed to your skin.

     Then suddenly he's pulling you into his arms in a bridal carry. You know he's strong, as you wrap your arms around his neck, but can't push away a pang of self-consciousness as he bears your weight. 

     "Bin, I'm so heavy..."

     "You're not."

     "I don't want you to..."

     "Stop it," comes his voice in a soft, deep command as he halts in his tracks to kiss you.

     He kisses you and kisses you until you believe that he could carry you until the end of time, and then he takes you into the guest bedroom and sits you gently on the bed. The bed with the mussed sheets that smell like him. The sheets that he's leaning you into as you push yourself to the middle of the bed while he hovers over the top of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

     As he sinks down over you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress has warmth licking through your veins. You move your hands to caress over his broad back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your fingers as he shifts to prop himself up on his elbow. You use the free space to trace your hand down his chest and abdomen until you reach the waistband of his pants. If he'd just push himself a few inches up you could...

     He pulls away, just barely breathless, and his eyes find yours. He reaches down with his right hand to pull yours gently from between your bodies and to his lips, before threading his fingers through yours and pressing your joined hands into the sheets beside your head.

     "I want to eat you out."

     He says it so simply, so confidently, and you can feel more arousal gush to join what's already begun to paint your inner thighs. 

     "Fuck..." you breathe, your fingers trembling in his grasp.

     "Can I?" he asks, kissing your lips softly again.

     For a moment you're afraid of what saying yes will mean, of the intimacy of it all, of the possibility that you won't measure up, someway, somehow, or maybe...that you will - and what in the world you would do with that level of acceptance...

     You let out a shaky sigh, as you hold his gaze. It arrests you and washes over you. You remember his eyes as he knelt on the living room floor, and all they pleaded with you to disbelieve, to unlearn. 

     Yes. Yes...If it's him, you want it, whatever it means.

     You surge forward, pressing your lips to his, your hands weaving through his hair, pulling him in. He lets out a tiny whimper as you devour him, kissing him with determined abandon until you have to come up for air.

     "Yes, Bin, yes," you shudder into his mouth as he pants over you. “Yes I want you to.”

In answer, he presses one last tender kiss to your lips before moving to kiss down your body. He moves slowly, but with purpose, pressing an adoring mouth to every part of you that’s bared. He kisses your ear, your neck, your collarbones…he moves over your shoulders and down your right arm to the tip of each finger. He kisses your breasts and down your stomach. He kisses your belly button, and over your hips and down your left thigh. He kisses the inside of your knee, and bends your leg to kiss over your calf and down to your ankle. 

You can barely watch him, as he brushes his lips over you, but he flicks his eyes up to yours so often you don’t dare look away. There is something flickering in his gaze, something like a challenge - daring you to contradict, to doubt what he seeks to impress upon you - and you begin to feel something strange and new. Something you’d never found at the touch of a lover, blooming in your chest and unfurling like a proud little flower under the sun: the strong, heady beauty of esteeming yourself worthy of his desire. It terrifies you a bit, and the ugly voice that has heckled you so often tries to cast doubt, but Changbin’s lips and hands are too persistent and assured for the harbinger in your mind to linger long. And the tidal wave of lovely feelings crashing over you threatens to destroy the shabby prison your heart has lingered in for so long.

Changbin lays his head on your thigh as he brings his hand off the other to cup your pussy over the softness of your shorts. His groan is nearly as loud as yours when he rubs over your mound, and it makes you impossibly wetter. He’s so unabashed and liberal with reacting to what he enjoys, and he is clearly enjoying you as much as he ever has anything.

He moves to bring his face to your clothed cunt, hovering over you for a nanosecond to catch your eyes as he mouths down over you. Your jaw drops open, and when his teeth scrape dully over your clit, your hips jerk and you fist the sheets. Changbin pulls back with a smirk, and sits back on his knees between your legs. He pulls one of your legs up to lean against his shoulder as his hands instinctively knead over the muscles of your calf and thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, with a little smile.

You nod with one of your own.

“I’m gonna lift you, okay? You can hold onto my legs, but I’ll have you, so don’t worry.”

You bite your lip and nod, suddenly a little shy. Look at him. Where did he get all this confidence?

He drops your leg briefly to tug off your shorts and panties, cursing at how wet you are, and gently slipping two fingers to brush between your glistening lips and over your clit. You gasp at the sensation - his fingers deft, his touch soft but firm where you ache for him. And then, suddenly, he is sliding your legs back up to rest against his chest and shoulders. His hands slip down to your hips and he effortlessly tugs your ass over the incline of his thighs and flush with his abdomen. Your heart starts to thrum in your chest. His body is warm and sturdy against the soft plush of your ass. Heat floods your cheeks when you sense a slickness against him where your arousal has begun to smear against his stomach. He, however, is far less bashful. Widening the gap between your thighs, he dips his head down, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck…" he murmurs, squeezing your legs where he holds them. 

When he raises his eyes to yours again, they’re unlike you’ve ever seen. They’re dark and hungry and hooded in a way that nearly intimidates you. His expression is full of heat, and manly in its sudden gravity. He watches you as he slips his thumbs under your waist and, slowly with strong hands, pulls your hips up beneath his chin. Your legs bend at the knees and drape around the crown of his head. Your spine curves where your upper back is flush with his thighs, your arm on either side of his kneeling form, and as he embraces you tightly around the hips and waist, you feel nearly every ounce of your weight suspended in his hold. The blood rushes to your head where it lays against the mattress, your neck curving just shy of his knees, offering a clear view of his gorgeous face as he wastes no time in pressing his open mouth to your labia. 

Your core muscles flex in response, hips pressing higher against him as you feel ripples of exquisite pleasure trickle through your body from above. The smooth muscle of his tongue slips past your entrance and begins fucking into you. Your head swims, the slightest dizzying restriction of oxygen dampening your ability to focus on anything but the bliss of his hot, wet mouth. Being tasted has never felt this intense. You whimper, your hands reaching around his body to find purchase on his muscular ass. You feel the press of his throbbing erection into your back as his tongue fucks unhurriedly into you. He’s rock hard, and all for you. From the sight of your naked body, the feel of you in his hands, the taste of you on his tongue. From the sounds pouring off of your lips as he worships your sex. 

Your legs begin to shake. You’re so totally in his hands. He holds you, lavishes you, consumes you. Nothing stands between you and ecstasy, and you can feel your climax fast approaching as pleasure ebbs and flows like a crashing tide on the rhythm of his firm, languid strokes.

"Ch-Changbin! Nhhh!" you mewl, you voice throaty and muffled from your position. 

He growls against you and you nearly cum then. One of his hands drops to squeeze the soft mound of your right breast. Your cheeks burn, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead and neck. You can feel your pussy throbbing - hot and sticky and swollen with stimulation - as he devours it like the flesh of ripened fruit. His lips encircle your clit and suckle as the tip of his tongue flicks over the erect peak of your bud.

And then it all goes white. You lose all sense but feeling as you rock your hips up to meet him, the tension in your abdominals adding sinfully to the fluttering pulsating of your pussy. There’s nothing but you and him and his arms around you and his mouth against the most intimate parts of you as your orgasm washes over you in electrifying slow-motion, pulling you under a tidal wave of bliss for what seems like an eternity. Your lips part in a silent scream of his name, your eyes pressed shut, as he works you through the longest and most intense climax your body has ever experienced.

You feel him place one last sweet, gentle kiss to your cunt before moving the hand on your breast to one of your thighs as he guides you back down onto the bed. You’re panting and boneless as you watch him draw an arm over his cum-slicked chin and cheeks. For a moment he simply looks down at you, a victorious air about him as his eyes trace your sated features and his gorgeous chest heaves with labored breath, then he crawls forward on the bed, stretching himself out on his side next to you, his body flush with your own. He slips his hand over the soft skin of your belly and rubs it soothingly as he watches you with a little grin.

“You good?” he asks in a raspy murmur.

You reach for his face, bringing it to yours as you kiss him with what wherewithal you have. You pull away, still breathless.

“Am I good? Seo Changbin, I think I could fly.”

His answering smile is so filled with joy and pride and affection that you think you truly may have sprouted wings. You roll to your side to press yourself against him, your hand tugging at the waistband of his pajamas, but he takes your hand again in his.

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Tonight is yours.”

“Bin…”

“I’m yours.”

You blink up at him, his head resting on his hand, his eyes sparkling and soft.

“If you’ll have me,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “You don’t have to answer right now. I know you’re going through a lot, and this is all…new.” 

He smiles again, glancing down as his features take on a boyish shyness.

  “But I care for you. And, however things work out,” his eyes lock with yours again, “I’ll always protect you.” 

Your heart stands still. There are things that are too deeply lovely for words to be wasted on them. Any words but three - three that are already deeply true, but which have begun to mean something beautiful and different tonight, burying themselves like a little seed in your heart that needs time to grow. So for now you let yourself cry tears that fall like raindrops in the sunlight, and drift to sleep with the steady beat of Changbin’s heart.

“Ay!” Nari’s voice cuts through the din of chatter as her hand shoots out to narrowly prevent a fellow patron from snagging the chair beside her. “Sorry, seats are taken.”

She takes a sip of her beer and stretches her short legs as far as they will reach across the two empty chairs beside her.

“The guys are gonna have to hustle if they’re gonna sit with us,” she says reproachfully, dark brows rising as her eyes scan the venue for the bodies that belong in the seats you have been desperately attempting to reserve for the last hour.

The Eight Ball is crowded to bursting, and you scan the stage for signs of the evening’s openers. Checking your phone, you find that it’s nearly eight. You also find a text that brings a smirk to your lips.

“What?”

You glance up at Nari, who’s staring at you suspiciously.

“Nothing…” you mumble, flipping your phone back over onto the table. You sip your cocktail through a straw.

“Are you texting him?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“What? Who?”

“You know who,” Nari mocks, narrowing her eyes at you. “The jerkwad.”

“Oh my god, Nari, no!” you sigh, as your phone buzzes again. 

She glances at it.

“Then what was with the look? Who are you…”

“Are these for us?” a voice belonging to a smiling, dimpled young man in a black hoodie with a matching beanie pulled over his head saves you from further explanation.

“Jesus, Chris, finally,” Nari admonishes as he takes the seat next to you, pulling her legs off the remaining chairs to free them up for the other two men that follow behind him. 

The freckled blond pulls Nari into a side hug which she returns, booping his nose before leaning across him to peer menacingly at his friend.

“Yo, Jisung,” she barks, “If you’re gonna order several hundred pizzas, how about taking some with you next time? My fridge is still stuffed.”

The young man blinks wide, surprised eyes at her before his brain catches up with her scolding.

“Sorry, but it wasn’t my fault!” he insists poutingly. “I ordered them because Changbin asked me to and then he canceled gaming weekend ‘cause he had a girl over.” he grumbles, causing the other two to snicker.

“Nice,” Chris giggles.

This time you do choke.

Your eyes fly to your best friend, watching the barrage of questions bubbling up on her face when a voice cuts through the din, silencing the crowd and unknowingly saving himself for the time being.

“Good evening, Eight Ballers!” Changbin rasps into his mic as Hyunjin waves, as ridiculously beautiful as ever, beside him.

You look at Changbin’s eyes.

They’re bright and confident and determined. You smile and cheer when he finishes introductions. As the band hits the first few notes of the opening number, his gaze finds yours, and it’s full of so many things.

His eyes sparkle with seven days worth of secrets – of waking up to your eyes and arms, of a weekend of nothing but bare bodies and hearts, of weeknight phone calls until the wee hours of the morning…of a new way of caring for each other that you’ll eventually tell the others, but that is just yours for now.

As you look at him, so full of adoration, you hope you can offer him even a fraction of the new world he’s only just begun to share with you – and the reflection you see a little more beautifully each day in the light of his eyes.

-Fin-

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[fruity-fruition]

My thoughts on Tenma Parents!

I am the Tenma parents' number #1 defender in a way. I still think they fucked up Tsukasa, but not intentionally.

(fyi, Tsukasa is definitely a mama's boy and I don't accept criticism. Saki's on the contrary)

I think Tsukasa's parents loved both him and Saki equally, unlimitedly, and wholeheartedly. The sad reality is that life handed the entire family a shitty deck of cards. And while love is unlimited, time and attention isn't.

They try their best, they genuinely do, but it's difficult juggling their job AND an ill child AND another child.

Due to Saki's (uncontrollable!! Remember!!) condition, one of the parents has to be with her nearly at all times and the other one has to work for the additional hospital bills (since the government can't cover some surgeries or procedures. Idk how it works in Japan but)

They try to be there for Saki and Tsukasa a lot but they do notice growing concerns abt both of them.

Saki's getting quiet, nearly bursting into tears every time Tsukasa or any of them leaves the hospital room. She clings on to people a lot to the point of where it hurts.

Tsukasa's getting quiet too. He thinks they don't notice, since he's trying to act upbeat and cheery in front of Saki to cheer her up, but they can't ignore... that. Whatever is happening to him.

They both don't know what to do.

Despite their best efforts, Tsukasa was still left home alone most of his late childhood and early teens.

They don't have favourites, but after a while, they can't say they know their son anymore. They saw him grow up without them, and it's the most heartbreaking thing to not be there.

--

They had to miss his middle school graduation. They tried to take time off work, but neither of them got off fast enough to reach the ceremony. Both only saw him that day at the hospital.

But Tsukasa lied. Lied to Saki's face, because he didn't want to upset her.

Tsukasa's mom: "Sweetheart, we're so sorry-"

Tsukasa: "-that you had to leave the ceremony early? It's okay!"

Their parents look at him confused because the issue is that they weren't even there. But Tsukasa gave them eyes, begging them to play along.

Tsukasa's mom: "...yeah. y-yeah, work called in and we really couldn't avoid it much longer"

Tsukasa lets out a sigh of relief before nodding and smiling "really! It's okay!"

When leaving Saki's ward, his mom asked him why he lied, and he just looked at her and shook his head.

Tsukasa: "...Saki does this thing, where she blames herself for stuff she can't control. I-I don't know how I know it, but I'm sure she'll do the same if she found out you weren't there. I don't want to see her doing that."

Outside, his mom pulls him into a hug, whispering apology after apology as she holds him. He kept insisting, it's fine! Really! He's a future star, with loads of celebration to come! Who cares if they missed one?

His mom looks at him, with genuine sadness, and asks him to be honest with her. Is he upset?

She noticed him froze, before shaking his head.

Tsukasa: "Not at all, mom! I understand why you both couldn't make it"

Tsukasa's mom: "...You can understand and still be upset. You're allowed to be"

But despite her best efforts to make her son open up, he still shakes his head and tells her it's alright.

She thinks he doesn't know that she knows. She knows that he wants them to worry less about him, which made them worry more.

--

She learned from Saki that Tsukasa doesn't have a lot of friends. He never mentions it a lot to Saki, but every time Saki asks him if he'd be hanging out with people, he just looks at her confused.

Tsukasa: "Why would I hang out with other people when I have the most incredible sister in the world!"

When he started to open up to her again, later in the future, when everything had settled down and life was beginning to move steady, she'll learn that his classmates think he's overbearing.

He wasn't getting bullied, nor was he actually disliked. But in terms of friends? They think he's a bit too loud, too tiring to deal with. Some even think he's a bit too selfish.

She would argue about that final point with her life. Because if anything, she wishes Tsukasa thought of himself more.

--

They learned more about him when he was 17. They learned about his friends, his troupe, his work, and how close he's gotten towards achieving his dreams. They're so unbelievably proud of him. He's grown into such an incredible person.

They just wished they could've taken the credit.

--

They loved their children equally. Even when Toya was pulled into the frame and they unknowingly gained a third, they loved him all the same.

But there's a difference in loving and knowing, because their son felt far more distant to them than their daughter. And they're trying their absolute best to fix that rift before it's too late

--

Both Tsukasa and Saki suffered majorly in their life, both in vastly different ways. But in terms of parents, I think Tsukasa got the short end. But not intentionally, y'know? It's like. Accidental child neglect.

#project sekai #pjsk #tsukasa tenma #tenma tsukasa #tsukasa wxs #tsukasa project sekai #tsukasa #wxs tsukasa #project sekai headcanons #pjsk headcanons #prsk #tenma parents #pjsk tsukasa

[genericpuff]

Hi puff I just read EP 273 and I need to know your opinions PLEASE. I feel so upset with the episode hfkfjskfkkd ASL??? AMERICAN sign language before America existed??? Why do Hera's proportions when she says "Did you forget?" look like that???? When Zeus asked if she loved him and her waist was smaller than the width of her head?? Why is Purse Phone running out of the cell with Dio labeled with a *floom*, I didn't see anything grow?? RS please I need food, water, atmosphere, and consistency 😭😭 comparing Hera's queen form with Peer Phony's just makes the art look so jank, I can't 😖 anyways thank you for letting me vent sorry if you already wrote your thoughts on EP 273 elsewhere and I missed it!!

I haven't really written anything concise on Episode 273 aside from the sign language stuff (and the time travelling problems) because I just... frankly don't even know what to say about the most recent episodes besides a very unsurprised "meh". I will give it credit for one thing, every time Hades and Persephone are separated the plot is actually allowed to happen, but the plot that IS there atm is relying a lot on characters being too stupid to solve their own problems and readers being too gracious or too forgetful to realize just how much is being retconned and / or forgotten about for the sake of writing a plot that tries to be deeper than it is. There's a lot of rushed worldbuilding happening at the last minute that's undoing a lot of the reasonable assumptions people had to make to fill in the blanks of the first three seasons and not exactly for the better. A lot of these issues could have been solved if Rachel had actually done any real planning in the beginning, but we're 5+ years too late for that now and the consequences of that have been rolling in every week since S3 began. There's a point where it becomes impossible to analyze because you know there's no logic to it, it's just Rachel writing whatever gets her through the week.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lo critical #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical