#that moment was pretty profound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

springtyme · 6 months

Note

hii!! i saw ur inbox open and was wondering if i could request this; so, imagine dad!simon (or konig idm!!) having his son / daughter see his face for the first time since they were born and theyre just kinda sitting there like :000?? hes so pretty?? while yn is just screaming in the back?? <33 have a great day n thnaks for reading x

𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request, I had such a good time writing this! I love writing dad!Simon so much! ♡ but also, ngl, the image of this big bloke wearing a mask in front of his baby seems borderline comical to me.

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: Your daughter finally sees her father's face for the first time.

word count: 2.2k

warning/tag: Mostly just dad!Simon fluff with a little hint of angst. No gendering terms are directly used for the reader, but they are pretty fem coded. It's mentioned that they were pregnant. No use of y/n.

As the soft morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom, you slowly begin stretching your limbs and blinking away the remnants of sleep. As you slowly settle into wakefulness, you hear the screeching sound of the baby monitor on your nightstand coming to life and you feel how your heart flutters happily in your chest as a familiar sound comes through. The sweet sound of your daughter’s happy coos, accompanied by Simon’s deep, gentle voice, fill the room with sweetness.

“Morning, sweet pea,” Simon’s voice crackles through the monitor followed by the sound of your baby happily gurgling at her father and then exclaiming a little more whiny sound. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re hungry, but we have to get you changed before we can make breakfast, lovie.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you lie there, basking in the warmth and comfort of your bed. The love and joy that echo through the monitor remind you of just how much love fills your home. It’s moments like these that make your heart swell with an indescribable sense of happiness.

Your mind wanders, and you find yourself reminiscing about the journey that brought you here.

From the moment you and Simon first met, there was an undeniable connection, a spark that ignited and grew into a love that was both fierce and tender. However, it hadn’t been that easy to convince him that he in fact was deserving of such love. He had been scared that he would mess it up, mess you up, convinced himself that he wasn’t able to make anyone happy and that he was broken beyond repair. But you had been rather insisting, and he had finally let his walls crumble and let you into his heart.

And as you had expected, all his worries had been unfounded. He is the best, most loving partner you could ever have dreamt of.

The love you share with him is a love that feels like home.

And then, the arrival of your daughter added a new dimension to your love story. From the first time you had held her tiny hand, you knew that your family was complete. Watching Simon transform into the most loving and doting father has only deepened your admiration and affection for him.

And as you lie here, reminiscing on your life, you can’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the love that surrounds you.

With a content sigh, you finally pull yourself out of bed, ready to start the weekend with your little family.

As you make your way down the stairs you can hear the sound of your daughter’s laughter from the kitchen, filling your heart with warmth and you can’t help but smile and make your way towards the source of the joyful commotion. As you enter the room, the morning sun gently illuminates the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the room, and you are greeted by a heartwarming sight. Simon is standing at the stove, stirring a pot of millet porridge, your daughter’s favourite, while she is sitting in her highchair, which has been moved away from the kitchen table and closer to the counter, so she can see what Simon is doing, clapping her hands in delight.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the comforting scent of the porridge. You can’t help but feel a surge of immense love and gratitude for the man who stands before you, effortlessly balancing the roles of partner and father.

Simon turns towards you. “Good morning, love,” he greets you, his eyes twinkling with warmth, the bottom half of his face covered by a black mask. He had started to wear it around the house again after your daughter had been born.

“Good morning,” you reply, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and adoration. “I see you two are having quite the breakfast party.”

Simon laughs softly and nods. “We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast in bed, but it seems that someone couldn’t wait,” he says, glancing at your daughter, who just giggles in response.

You walk over to them, planting a soft kiss on Simon’s masked cheek before planting another on your daughter’s, much chubbier, one. “Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed. This is the best way to wake up,” you say, gazing at your little family with a heart full of love.

Together you finish cooking breakfast, porridge for the baby and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for you and Simon.

You begin to set the table as Simon picks up your daughter, supporting her with one arm as he settles her on his hip, so he can move her chair back to the table, but before he can grab the chair he stops dead in his tracks.

Your little girl has grabbed a fistful of his mask in her tiny hand. She doesn’t seem to be pulling on it, or otherwise trying to take it off him, but she also doesn’t seem to want to let go of it when Simon gently takes her hand to get her to release her grip.

“Sweetheart, please…” Simon says softly, but he trails off, a wave of emotions flickering over his eyes, but they end up having a sort of determinant look to them as they lock with his daughter’s.

You feel how your heart skips a beat as Simon lets go of her little hand to instead grip the place his mask is fastened.

With a deep breath, Simon removes the mask, revealing his face to your daughter for the very first time in her young life. You feel goosebumps rise along your arms as Simon’s features come to light. The room falls silent, and time seems to stand still.

Your daughter’s gaze is fixed on Simon, you can see a whirlwind of emotions flickering across her little face.

It’s a pivotal moment that holds the power to change everything. You can see how Simon, too, feels a mix of emotions coursing through him.

He has once mentioned to you that he was afraid that his scars would scare her, but you have had a suspicion that something else might be the reason he has kept the mask on in front of her for.

He does have a few scars from his work, but they are nowhere near severe enough to scare anyone. You do have another theory to why he has kept it on, one he hasn’t directly confirmed, but a conversation from your pregnancy has stuck with you.

He had voiced his concern that something would happen to him on the battlefield. not because he was that concerned for his own wellbeing, he knew what the risks of his job was, but because he was afraid of something happening to him, leaving you and your little one alone in the world. He had, on the whole, had many worries about becoming a father.

He had been worried that his past had broken him so severely that he couldn’t be the dad your daughter needed him to be. Like the fear he also had about you and your relationship in the beginning of it, the fear that he couldn’t be the man you deserved.

He has, in all the time you’ve known him, done everything to disprove that concern, he is the best partner you could ask for and now the most lovable dad to your little girl, but you know that he still has his concerns and that his feelings about them are valid.

You think the mask has served as a sort of safety blanket for him. Like he thought that it would be easier for you and your daughter to lose him if your little girl couldn’t remember his face, or something like that. You find that thought heart rending.

You know that his job comes with a risk, you had known it when you got together and you had known it when you married him and you had known it when you got your daughter. Losing him on the battlefield would be your worst nightmare come true. You know that he is smart, strong and capable, but you also know that there are no guarantees in war, which, to you, is just all the more reason for your daughter to know her father’s face, but you have let Simon choose for himself when he was ready for that.

But you don’t want to think about any of that right now, so you push those thoughts away, and instead let yourself be completely mesmerised by the sight before you

Your little girl focuses on his, now revealed, face, taking in every detail. Her eyes widening in surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of fear, her little mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she absorbs every detail of her father’s face.

“It’s just me, princess,” Simon tells her, his voice filled with a mix of amusement, nerves and an overwhelming love for his little girl. His eyes, once guarded, now shine with warmth and affection.

The confirmation of his voice is what convinces her. A wide smile spread across her little face, revealing the adorable dimples she has inherited from Simon, on her sweet, chubby cheeks. She lets out a happy squeal, as she realises that it really is her father who’s now smiling down at her, a set of dimples matching hers on his cheeks.

She giggles happily, which, to you, is the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Her little hands starting to explore Simon’s face, her tiny fingers tracing the lines and contours of it. It’s a gentle and tender gesture that speaks volumes. You watch in awe as the beautiful moment between your daughter and her father unfolds in front of you. It’s a moment you will cherish forever.

When she finally seems satisfied with her mapping of his face with her small hand, she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face, one that conveys something along the lines of ‘you seeing this too?’ Her eyes lighting up, reflecting the genuine joy that fills her little heart.

“Yeah, baby, that’s your daddy,” you smile at her, and she lets out another happy shriek before looking back at Simon again, happily nuzzling her little face into his neck. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You continue as you step forward, placing a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles over the dusty rose bodystocking that she is wearing, one that Simon picked out when he got her ready and you still laid in bed.

You look up at Simon, a soft smile on his lips as your eyes lock.

“He never wants to believe me when I tell him, but he is actually the most handsome man I know,” you say, with a playful glint in your eyes. “He’s probably the most handsome man in the whole world, actually.”

Simon chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Oh, come on now,” he replies, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement.“I think you might be a bit biassed there, love.”

You shake your head, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Nah, I don’t think I am,” you state, wrapping your arms around both Simon and your little girl in his arms. “Just stating facts. I actually got the most handsome husband and the most beautiful daughter in the whole wide world.” you say with a content sigh, hugging your little family tightly.

It’s a hug that speaks volumes, conveying love, affection and acceptance. In this embrace, you know that you truly have the most beautiful family in the world.

As you finally let go of them you place a sweet kiss on your daughter’s little nose. She giggles joyfully, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness over what a happy little girl you have. Simon seems to be thinking the same as he smiles down at her.

But your adorable little troublemaker doesn’t seem to be done with causing havoc yet.

She reaches out her tiny hand and grabs for the mask again. Simon hesitates for a moment, looking down at the fabric in his hand, the symbol of his past, before letting her have it. The mask, once a symbol of his doubts and fears, now becomes a simple toy for your daughter as she happily shakes it up and down, a cheeky grin on her little face.

You and Simon lock eyes, and then the two of you burst out in laughter.

As your laughter fills the room, a sense of pure joy washes over you. You look at Simon, his eyes sparkling with happiness, and you know in this moment, that the love and bond the three of you share is unbreakable, and it fills your heart with an indescribable warmth.

With a deep sense of gratitude and contentment, you take a mental snapshot of this beautiful moment. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in your mind, a testament to the strength of your love and the joy that radiates from your little girl.

As the laughter subsides, you gather your family close again, embracing the love and happiness that surrounds you. In this embrace, you know that you have everything you could ever need.

Your daughter’s laughter and Simon’s unwavering love fill your life with immeasurable happiness, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the beautiful family you have created.

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ln444 · 6 months

Text

truly madly deeply

cw: fluff, very slight angst, comfort (reader comforting lando), you and lando are fucking in love:'(((

now playing: truly madly deeply by 1d

notes: i love requests inspired by songs pls request more of it🥺 wrote this in 30 minutes at 3am so its a bit short sry:(

requested by anon

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these past few weeks have been incredibly tough on lando, both mentally and physically. you've undoubtedly noticed and have been doing your best to support him while giving him the space he needs. lando may struggle to express his feelings in words, but he's been showing his gratitude in other ways – with small gestures and plenty of physical affection. you've been following his f1 journey closely, never missing a grand prix, and making sure you're by his side through it all. lando has never felt more loved and supported. his favorite moments are those when he can finally rest and spend time with you after a grueling race.

qualifying is tomorrow, and lando seems even more nervous than usual. you know him inside out, recognizing his little habits when he's stressed; without him saying a word, you understand the thoughts racing through his mind. the night has fallen, heightening lando's anxiety as the race draws near. he's been more affectionate than usual today, seeking comfort in your hugs and asking for extra kisses. while you love this closeness, it also concerns you. you're well aware of how hard lando can be on himself, and the thought of what he might be going through tugs at your heart.

you join him on the bed, facing him, the stars casting a soft glow on his tired face, making his eyes sparkle even more when they meet yours. "hey, pretty boy," you whisper gently, your hand tenderly cupping his cheek and stroking it. butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his body relaxes a bit. "hey, love" he whispers back, planting a sweet kiss on the palm of your hand, eliciting a smile from you.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls – something you know he adores. with a sigh, lando closes his eyes for a moment before locking onto yours again. he finds immense comfort in your gaze, with the rest of the world fading away each time he gets lost in your eyes.

"i don't know... i'm not feeling great about tomorrow," he admits with a hint of worry in his voice. your heart aches just hearing his concerns. you move closer, your gaze softening, and lando's heartbeat quickens. how can you have such a profound effect on him with just your eyes? it drives him crazy.

"why, baby? you don't have to worry. you're lando norris, after all!" you playfully roll your eyes, and a smile tugs at lando's lips. he takes your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, and you reciprocate with a warm smile.

"no, but seriously, what's bothering you?" you softly toy with his fingers while giving him your full attention.

"i mean, it's more of a mclaren problem than a 'me' problem," he hesitates for a moment, and you gently caress the back of his hand, encouraging him to open up.

"i don't think i belong there anymore. i don't think i can show my true potential with them." his voice is calmer now, and a sense of relief is evident.

you hum softly, and he finds the courage to continue, still focused on your hands playing together. "should i quit? but what if no one else wants me?" panic creeps into his voice, and you immediately grip his hand firmly, bringing your free hand to his cheek.

"hey, you're one of the best drivers out there. there'll always be a team that wants you. believe me, there'll always be a place for you in f1. you've worked so hard to get here, and you truly deserve it," you reassure lando. he gets lost in your eyes, feeling the depth of your love and honesty. his heart feels like it could burst at any moment.

"but i want to be the best," he pouts, and you chuckle softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips, making him smile. "you're already the best for me," you say with a gentle smile, causing lando's heart and cheeks to warm. he groans playfully, slightly embarrassed by his blushing cheeks, and your smile widens. "you're so cute; i don't think my heart can take it," you playfully whimper, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks. lando bites his lip to suppress a smile, and the sparks in his eyes intensify. you place multiple kisses on his lips, and lando can't help but chuckle. he puts his hands on yours to pause the kisses and says, "just give me a real kiss already, please," another pout forming on his lips. your smile grows bigger, and you oblige, giving him a gentle kiss.

lando pulls back to look at you, and the warm smile on his face melts your heart. "thank you," he says softly, caressing your hands. you don't really know why he's thanking you to be honest; for the kiss or for the honest words. "you don't have to thank me," you say, placing a quick peck on his lips. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what," another peck, "and i'll always be proud of you," another one, "no matter what, my pretty boy."

lando's heart has never felt this warm. in fact, his entire body feels warm right now, overwhelmed by the love he's receiving. "god, what did i do to deserve you?" he asks with a sweet and calm voice, clearly feeling better. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you."

"i know you did not just quote a one direction song," you both laugh, and lando groans, hiding his face behind your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "it's cute," you move your hands to look at him. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you too," you say with a hint of teasing in your voice, but you absolutely mean it. a big smile forms on lando's face, and you run your hands through his hair to pull him into a tender kiss.

lando's heart feels lighter, your sweet words and touch washing away all the negative thoughts for the night. if you have to repeat every single word you said to him tomorrow and the day after – every day, you will do it, again and again. lando knows it, and he has never felt so thankful.

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masterlist

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris fluff #f1 #lando norris angst #f1 angst #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

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cheolhub · 5 months

Text

WHAT YOU NEED — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. wonwoo knows how shy you get telling him what you want, but he’ll get you to use your words one way or another.

wc. 2.5k

warnings. mean-ish soft dom!wonwoo, sub! reader, corruption kink + slight humiliation kink! lots of teasing from wonwoo, lots of begging from reader, pet names [love, baby, sweet girl], dirty talk [😵‍💫], possessiveness (reader is so into it), heavy praise, unprotected sex, creampie — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s been months… hellooo… i forgot how to write so forgive me for the shitty plot lol. this is me attempting to get back into the writing world 🤓 hopefully ONE of u enjoys this <3 p.s. i’m srsly in my wonu era

“remember what i said, love,” wonwoo murmured, soft lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “if you want something, you gotta use your words.”

you hated this– everything about this– the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice that shoots heat straight to your core, him in general. he’s well aware of the fact that you can’t stand it at this moment, but that doesn’t put an end to his teasing.

your back arches off his chest as you feel the ghost of his fingers over your painfully wet cunt, covered in a pair of cotton panties. “wonwoo…” you whine, eyes brimming with tears of frustration. “please…”

he merely chuckles, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “please what?”

when you and wonwoo started dating, you were so shy. so shy and so, so sweet. you’d never been with anyone before him, and of course he felt bad that he was the one to rob you of your innocence, but he was filled with a sense of pride (and urgency) when he’d found out he was the one to corrupt you and ruin you for everyone else.

and he was gentle. yes, jeon wonwoo was so, very gentle, handling you like a pretty doll while coaxing orgasms out of you left and right with his hands and mouth till your body was slack and you were nothing but a puddle of tears. he got you ready for his cock and you took it well. then you took it again. and again. and again, till you and him both knew you were his and he was yours.

it got to the point where you’d crave him at the most inconvenient times. while you were running errands, at work, at dinner with your friends– it was almost insufferable.

but he always took care of you. all you had to do was ask and he’d be there at your beck and call with whatever you wanted, whether it was with his mouth, fingers or cock.

he always makes you ask because wonwoo’s taken a certain… liking… to making you say the filthiest things. he knows it makes you nervous, but that’s why he thinks he loves it. he loves your stammering and how he can feel the heat radiating from your body. it’s cute.

which is why you’re in your current predicament, sat between his legs, your own spread over his with your back pressed to his chest after sending an innocent ‘come over, please? <3’ text.

“don’t make me say it, won… it’s…it’s unbecoming. just… please.”

usually, he’s not so adamant on getting you to say exactly what you want. all you had to do was say please, and he was all yours.

but no, not today apparently.

“there’s nothing unbecoming about it, my love.” he noses at your neck, his breath fanning over your racing pulse and eliciting your soft shudder. “just tell me what you invited me over for and i’ll give it to you.”

“please… touch me.” you whisper, heat creeping from where his lips are on your to neck all the way up to the tips of your ears.

you can feel his shit-eating grin and you want to scream at him, but your need for him is much more profound than your desire to slap him in the face for teasing you to this extent.

his hands rub up and down your arms and you hear his smile when he asks, “like this?”

you groan, shaking your head, “you know what i mean!”

“i don’t know what you mean, actually. can you dumb it down for me?”

you mentally curse him out, but you try to steady your breathing before you speak again. “touch me… down… there.” you attempt to say, but it comes out as more of a squeak.

wonwoo’s uncharacteristically large hands find your tummy and you want to sob when he asks, “here?” you shake your head. “words.” the demand vibrates through you and you let you an embarrassing whimper.

“lower,” you whisper, unable to trust your voice. “please, wonwoo.”

he runs his fingers down your abdomen and trails them down your thighs. you can’t help the cry that leaves your mouth. “mean. you’re so mean.”

“you can say it, sweet girl.” he whispers. “it’s not unbecoming. it’s not inappropriate. it’s fucking hot. i want you to tell me exactly what you want and i swear to god i’ll give it to you.”

you sniffle, frustrated and slightly embarrassed, but you stutter out in the softest voice he’s ever heard you use, “please touch my pussy, wonwoo.”

you think it feels awkward and gross coming out of your mouth with your voice, but wonwoo… wonwoo groans, hand immediately slipping into your panties. “good fucking girl.” he grumbles as his fingers find your clit.

you jolt at the contact but melt into him just as quickly. “fuck,” you whimper, thankful that you’re finally receiving the touch you’ve been craving for the past half hour. “f-faster, please.”

wonwoo’s chest swells with that familiar sense of pride again as he hears your beg. he obliges, the rough pads of his fingers circling the swollen, pleading bud. “you’re so fucking wet…”

you moan, head falling back on his shoulder. your face burns like never before as you get out, “f-for… you. ‘m wet for you.”

wonwoo isn’t always vocal, but when he is? he’s loud. so the moan that slips from his mouth startles you a bit.

“that’s right, all for me.” he grunts, possessiveness lacing his voice causing the jostling of butterflies in your tummy. “all fucking mine, forever mine.”

you change your mind at this– you love the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice, him especially.

“always yours.” you nod vigorously, body writhing as he quickens the movement of his fingers.

wonwoo doesn’t have much self-control when it comes to you, so it’s taking everything in him to not flip you over and fuck you till all you can say is yours, yours, always yours. instead, he opts for trying to get more out of your pretty mouth. “how do you feel, baby? tell me how much you like my fingers playing with this pretty little cunt.”

it’s so filthy, but you can’t help but arch your back at the sound of his words. “love them s’much, wonwoo. feels s’good.”

he’s sure you do feel good, he’s a skilled man after all, but he knows you probably need more.

“yeah?” he responds breathily, cock aching at the validation and how pretty you sound saying his name. “this enough to make you cum, or do you want more?”

your brain fogs over at the thought of more. you can nearly taste ecstasy on the tip of your tongue and you don’t doubt that you could get off with just his fingers, yet… the idea of being filled to the brim with his fingers or his cock is much more compelling.

“more.” you breathe in reply.

“what was that?” he teases, fingers slowing down.

there’s that wicked sense of humor that makes you want to slap him across the face.

you barred your teeth before gritting, “fuck me, please. i need more. i need you, wonwoo.”

his ministrations stop and before you get the chance to complain, he’s rolling your panties down your legs and guiding you to straddle his abdomen. he slips his sweats down enough for his cock to come out and, even though you can’t see it, you can feel its looming presence.

“take what’s yours, baby.” he stares up at you while you stare back, eyes wide.

“y-you… you want me to…?” he knows what your unfinished question translates to and he nods and gives you a lazy smile even though you can see the burning desire in his blown out pupils.

you let out a short breath and nod, more to yourself than anything. he’s never let you have control while you’re on top, but you feel giddy that he’s giving you a chance now. you lift your hips up and take a hold of his hardened length in your hands. you run the blushy tip of his cock through your folds, eliciting a hiss from the man under you, before finally sliding down his cock. slowly, you feel every inch of him invade your pussy and it’s so good, despite the slight burn.

you forget how tight the fit is every time. even with how wet you are, you still feel your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

you cry softly, body going limp as you finally hit the base of his cock. “won…”

“you feel so good,” he moans softly, hands finding purchase on your hips. “are you alright? does it hurt?” he manages to ask, cock twitching at the way your walls wrap around him.

you shake your head incessantly, hoping he doesn’t worry too much. “no– no, ‘m okay. j-just need to adjust.”

wonwoo nods empathetically, rubbing soothing circles into your skin to ease you. “you’re doing so well.” he whispers after a minute of silence, the only sounds being your ragged breaths and the soft hum of the air conditioning. “gonna make sure you feel so good, baby.”

you feel the heat reappear and a gush of arousal leak at the praise in his hushed voice. it inspires you to take action.

you press your palms to his clothed abdomen, wishing he’d taken off his shirt so you can feel his skin, but you can’t be bothered to ask him to do so now. you lift your hips up his cock before letting yourself drop, a moan tumbling out of your mouth when you feel how deep he is inside you.

you repeat the sloppy movements, stangled moans slipping with every sharp thrust as you spear yourself on his length over and over.

it’s not till wonwoo guides you with the tight grip of his hands on your waist that you find a steady tempo, the sound of skin on skin growing louder with the mixed sounds of his grunts and your mewls.

you slip your hands under his shirt, craving the closeness, and lightly run your nails down the skin. you feel him contract under the contact and you can’t stop the way your walls tighten around him when his hands squeeze you harder.

the longer you ride him, the more your thighs burn. it eventually causes your speed to falter and wonwoo, ever the observer, is quick to notice. he decides you’ve had enough and bucks his hips into you, meeting you halfway while groaning out your name.

the bulbous head of his cock rams into your sweet, special spot as he takes over and you throw your head back in utmost pleasure. tears spring to your eyes and wonwoo finds this to be the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. your tits bouncing with every push, your mouth cracked open as the prettiest sounds leave it, the way your eyebrows knit in pleasure– he makes a mental note to bring his camera next time you invite him over.

“tell me what you need, love.” he demands yet again, words breathy and clipped as his cock throbs in between your velvet walls. “tell me what this pretty pussy needs and i’ll fucking give it to you.” his sentence ends in a growl when your nails bite into his bare skin, leaving red, crescent shapes in their wake.

you let out a choked sob, “w-wonu–”

he sits up, using his strength to bounce you up and down at a leisure pace– one that he knows does nothing for your needy body. “don’t get shy on me now, baby, you can tell me.” he coaxes, sultry voice circling your brain.

you swear if your body burns any hotter, you’ll explode.

your mouth opens to let out a plea, “p-please make me cum– please, i-i wanna–” your words are swallowed by him as he smashes his lips to yours. you moan his name into his mouth and he all but moans back into yours.

you involuntarily clench around him when he hastily bucks into you while also guiding your hips on his cock. when he pulls back, he sports swollen lips and lust-ridden eyes and it makes you all the more needy for your coveted release.

“rub your clit and get yourself off for me, yeah?” you pants before his mouth lands on one of your breasts, sucking and tugging at the peaked nipple.

you follow instructions, two of your fingers moving to circle the swollen bud and your free hand gripping his shoulder for more support.

at the onslaught of pleasure, the knot that’s been rapidly forming in your tummy all night tightens beyond belief and you know you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. wonwoo, being as perceptive as he is, just moans at the way you pulse uncontrollably around his cock.

if you’ve learned anything from the teasing and the rather humbling experience you’ve had tonight, it’s that you should definitely voice what you want.

and that’s exactly what you do.

“i– fuck, wonwoo. i need to cum, please let me.” you beg as you get closer and closer to your anticipated release.

he releases your nipple with a pop and nearly growls. “cum for me, baby.”

it’s all you need to hear before a silent scream leaves your lips and white, hot pleasure runs its course. your body goes taut as the tether in your belly snaps in half, cunt and body practically spasming all the while your brain spins erratically.

wonwoo is enthralled by the sight and feeling of you. the grip he has on you is near bruising as he watches you fall apart on him– feels you fall apart on him.

“so beautiful,” he praises, voice strained as he nears his own release. “my beautiful girl. you’re so fucking good for me, you know that?” he rambles, cock twitching as you let out more whines and whimpers.

“c-cum in me.” you demand, voice broken and hoarse from all the screaming. “i-i wanna feel it. i need to.”

an animalistic growl bubbles in the back of his throat and his slow pace and sweet praise disappears, replaced by an unforgiving speed at which he pounds into you. you’re back to broken moans as he lets out labored pants till, shortly after, he’s stills inside of you, cock nestled at your hilt and he’s releasing his warm load inside of your battered walls.

you collapse on top of him, savoring the feeling of his warmth inside of you.

“did i hurt you?” he whispers after a few minutes of unsteady breathing from the both of you.

you shake your head. “just my dignity,” you joke softly, resting your forehead against his. “i’m alright, don’t worry.”

he chuckles, cupping your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over the dried tear streaks, “i was a bit mean, huh?”

“so mean.” you tease, kissing the corner of his mouth. “you’re lucky i love you.”

“beyond lucky.”

taglist! @ficrecnctskz @bowmonde @jinxedmuse @rubyreduji @peachyaeger @roe-sinning @ollieollieoctopus @dunixxd @uwuheeseungie @limbomoon @wonuqrtz @onlyyjeonghan @hotchnrz @vikc

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#wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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itsbuckytm · 5 months

Text

Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you.

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse.

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal.

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay.

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time.

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it.

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual.

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right.

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out.

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes.

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that."

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is.

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along.

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies.

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year.

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you.

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers.

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers.

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered.

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red.

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!"

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance.

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to."

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident.

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving.

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say.

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon.

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere.

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning.

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem.

Y/N, Snow.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #coryo #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

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vampcubus · 1 year

Text

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: i had to… I HAD TO THE BRAINROT TOOK HOLD OF ME. still getting used to writing for these boys so bear with me.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : inosuke, zenitsu, tanjiro, kyojuro, and tengen (feat. tengen’s wives)

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : light nsfw, spicy in places.

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

— HE GETS IT!! literally the best person for the job. you will not be disappointed because that’s his love language too!!

— The moment you suggest wanting to play fight he is tackling you to the ground full force because he was waiting for you to say that!!

— He loves it!! The cute aggression he gets around you can finally be satiated. He’s on cloud nine rolling around with you, trying his damnedest to get you in a headlock just to feel you kick your feet in protest.

— You’ll have to remind him to ease his grip and the strength he uses to toss you around, but he’s a pretty quick study!

— You’ll really have to try to be able to pin him however, he’s as flexible as he is strong and determined to flip you on your back and proclaim his “inevitable victory” you can imagine his surprise (and heart eyes) when you’re craftier than he anticipated and manage to not only keep up with this enthusiasm but BEAT HIM.

— Soon as that happens though he’s less interested in fighting and more interested in wrenching his mask off so he can crush his lips to yours.

— You will never be safe after that first time you roughhouse with him, any time he gets that giddy feeling in his chest around you he just pounces. It is kind of your fault for conditioning him to express his affection that way.

— You may want to explain it to your friends however because Tanjiro is BEYOND confused. You two were having a profound moment why are you wrestling??? 😭 Zenitsu is having a freakout, trying to pry the boar man off you whilst screaming “YOU ANIMAL, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO Y/N-CHAN!?” (though once zen’s been briefed he is immensely jealous)

— Inosuke gets suspicious if you aren’t fighting back with your usual enthusiasm. Are you sick? mad at him? injured? He’ll get restless if you haven’t been in the mood for it lately because what do you mean you don’t want to wrestle??? >:(( don’t u love him???

— Inosuke doesn’t want to actually hurt you, of course, he knows the difference between a cry of delight and one of pain. If you make a sound implying the latter he’ll stop and check-in.

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— I’ll be honest he doesn’t really understand it 😭 you’re supposed to be madly in love why do you want to fight? most of your attempts will be one-sided, the most fight you’ll get out of him is playful swatting.

— He’s also easily distracted by physical contact, so the moment you straddle his hips in an attempt to get the upper hand (which you’ll most likely already have, he really doesn’t have the heart to put it up much of a struggle) he’s melting into a puddle, hands coming to your thighs to drum absentmindedly on them—which in turn distracts you. It’s so hard to get mad at him for it too when he peers up at you with that lovestruck puppy look through thick blond lashes.

— Zenitsu definitely prefers a more “aggressive cuddling” approach than actual roughhousing, like tackling the other to the ground for some spirited nuzzling. And maybe some light-hearted games of footsie or lazily shoving at one another’s hands to see who’s stronger.

— Doesn’t help that he’s incredibly horny all the time and pinning him down just makes him feel hot, so now you’ve got that to deal with.

— Zenitsu loves to play up the drama of it, the back of his hand pressed wistfully to his forehead as if he’s feeling faint as he performatively exclaims “Oh, be gentle with me, Y/n-chan~!“

— That usually gets you to back off with a huff of annoyance and heat in your cheeks, knowing he’d formulated the perfect foil to your cute aggression. The best way to fend you off was to make it weird.

— Putting him in a headlock just means he has an excuse to nuzzle his face against your chest, jostle him too hard and you’ll just make him cry.

— Deep down he thinks it’s a bit endearing, it’s just a love language you don’t share and that’s ok. He’ll let you rough him up, just don’t expect the same treatment.

— To that end, you’re better off taking out your aggression on demons </3

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— You’ll have to explain it to him for him to wrap his head around it, but he’s pretty open to it! He grew up with many siblings and they liked to playfully wrestle with him sometimes, he just never imagined doing something like that with you! Especially since he’s such a gentle soul and can’t imagine wanting to hurt you in any way.

— He really tries to match your enthusiasm, but all of his playful shoves and swats always end up softer than necessary.

— Checks in constantly! “That wasn’t too rough was it?” “That didn’t hurt right?” “Ah, did I get carried away? 🥺” like bb calm down you’re doing great.

— Once he’s used to your habits he can’t help but anticipate your next sneak attack, biting his lip to conceal a smile when he notices you ready to pounce from the corner of his eye. You may think you’ve caught him unawares but he often can smell or hear your approach, but he loves to pretend anyways, just to see that triumphant grin on your face when you jump onto his back.

— Oftentimes your playful wrestling is interspersed with gentle touches. You just look so cute when you’re determined and he can’t help but caress your face in the moment <3 (he’s so soft pls i’d be crying)

— Nezuko watches the two of you play a lot and you can tell she wants to join in so sometimes you tag her in to fight at your side!!! Tanjiro is laughing so hard he can hardly breathe, overwhelmed with joy as the two most important people in his life put him through his paces.

— While he definitely prefers to express his affection in softer ways, he learns to love roughhousing with you. He knows that you only do it because you want to be close and because you trust him, and he’s content with that.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— When you first express your desire to play fight all you’ll get is a puzzled tilt of his head in return. He’ll genuinely ask you why, and when instead of explaining you get flustered he is suddenly very intrigued.

“I must confess I do enjoy that expression on your face, little flame!” (If you know you know) he all but announces to half the compound, which has your entire face boiling with embarrassment. Seeing his comment has only extended your distress, his eyes soften fondly. “Take your time.”

The best answer your monkey brain can conjure is “because I love you!” blurted out in a hurry, startling a few nearby birds into flight. No one’s quite as startled as Kyojuro however, whose face is now equally ablaze at your confession.

“And I want to be close to you,” you added, fighting through the early relationship jitters to get your point across. The best way to a healthy relationship is through communication, right? After all, Kyojuro had no right to be so damned cute all the time. It made you want to wrestle him into an embrace every time he said something unintentionally endearing—which was often!

“I think I understand!”

— Honestly, he’s a natural at it. He knows his own strength and how much he can use when tussling with you without causing any real harm. Even if you really wouldn’t mind a few token bruises to remember those silly moments by.

— He’s a little nervous at first, he did grow up with a brother but Senjuro had always been gentle in his affections towards him. Though as soon as he sees just how much fun you’re having he’s absolutely on board! Enamored when you can’t help but giggle as you’re rolling out of reach, lunging for his sides, and jumping onto his back in an attempt to bring him to the ground.

— Most of the time between efforts of fending off your playful shoving he’s nuzzling against you, trailing kisses wherever he can reach. Laughing heartily along with you as he all too easily weakens you by attacking your sides with incessant tickling until you’re wheezing so hard you can hardly breathe.

— He rarely initiates roughhousing, but he will never deny you. It’s a great way to lift his spirits when he’s feeling down. It’s a rare occurrence, but he appreciates those small gestures the most. Close proximity and your beautiful laugh? What more could he want?

— He now knows your desire to roughhouse is a sign of affection, so he cherishes being able to let loose and play with you. Though most of the time neither of you is concerned about winning. Your playfights all too easily turn into spirited cuddling. (He’s just so loving and I- *sobs*)

— Until you decide to test some newfound strength and surprise him by flipping him flat on his back with his hands pinned to the ground. Now… now it’s different, a different kind of longing in those bright golden eyes you’ve grown to adore. One of blatant heat and desire. He always desires you but especially so when you assert yourself.

— Does this lead to you desperately rutting against one another and tearing at your clothing? Couldn’t say. (Absolutely)

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

— He thinks it’s adorable that you want to roughhouse with him and will actually encourage you to try! He’s so disrespectful about it though 😭 can hold your attacks at bay with a single hand over your face. Likes to egg you on until you really want to smack him and then acts surprised when you slip out of his grip and head butt his chest full force.

“Why you little…”

— Now the game is on! Prepare to roll around struggling for the upper hand until he feels he’s put you in your place! Instead of being discouraged by your loss, you’re more determined to win the next round.

— His instincts are razor sharp so don’t think you’ll ever truly get the jump on him with a sneak attack, even when he looks to be none the wiser. He always knows you’re there and foils your plans at the last second :(((

— You can usually get Suma and Makio in on the action and get him rumbling with laughter as you all wrestle in a pile.

— Hinatsuru prefers to watch with a soft expression as her lovers fight and then crawl into the cuddle pile that follows as the four of you are gasping for breath. Suma always claims a place at your side afterward so she can whisper new schemes into your ear <3 she’s your partner in crime.

— Tengen could likely fend the four of you off all at once if you ever did convince Hina to join, but he loves the triumphant cheers you make when he admits defeat.

— Now if you just so happen to have even greater strength than him? He’s shutting up so fast cus please toss him around and rough him up a bit, I’m telling you he gets off on that shit—especially if you’re being “flashy” about it. Probably goes without saying that your roughhousing often turns into something else.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #inosuke hashibira x reader #inosuke x reader #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #zenitsu x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #tengen uzui x reader #tengen x reader #tengen x wives x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons

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sprout-fics · 8 months

Text

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Twelve: Pillow Princess)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Poly TF141, Slow burn, Heat cycles, Smut, Beta! Gaz x Omega! F Reader, Date outings, Courting gifts, Cuddling, Service Top Gaz, PiV sex, Praise kink

Masterlist

You get a text from Gaz a few days later

“Shopping date? :)”

You look despairingly at the mountain of intelligence reports Price has dumped on your desk for mandatory reading, and the thought of playing hooky has never been so appealing

“Can you sneak me out?” You send back, and imagine Gaz’s mischievous little smile at the request

“I think I can manage something.”

Half an hour later and with Price occupied by a convenient distraction, you’re dressed in civvy clothes as Gaz drives down the highway, humming along to music on the radio

You sneak a side glance at him, seeing the pleased tug of his lips, his worn blue cap shading his gaze from the afternoon sun. You look away before he can catch you, shift a little in your seat with a rush of affection and shyness

You’re not sure where he’s taking you, and are entirely surprised when he parks in front of a home goods and furniture store

“Gotta make sure our girl is all set up for her heat.” He explains as he opens to door for you, one hand at the small of your waist as he escorts you inside and directly to the pillow and blanket aisle

Your self consciousness fades away the moment you lay eyes on the wealth of throws and pillows, gleefully holding each item aloft for his approval. You relish the way his eyes light up, boyish smile curved up towards his ears at your clear delight

You take turns consulting over various blankets and pillows, discussing textures and sizes. When you shyly toss a stuffed bear in the shopping bin, Gaz retrieves it and imitates an impression of Price’s surly tone that makes you giggle behind your hands

It doesn’t take long for the shopping cart to fill up, and as you retrieve your wallet Gaz beats you to the punch and swipes his own card much to your surprise

“Consider it a courting gift.” He tells you with a knowing smile, and even the cashier seems taken aback by his statement

By the time you haul the bags back up to your room you’re both exhausted, flopping on your bed amidst the cushions and blankets with jokes and laughter and forms pressing together

“I’m glad I did this.” He confesses to you when you lay on your sides, face to face. “We all want you to feel comfortable with us.”

Your eyes soften at that, at the gentle entreaty from the sergeant that speaks volumes as to his care for you. This profound gesture says so much about him, you realize

He’s the gentleness that abates the primal instincts of his mates, the soothsayer that sees the things that need to be done and tries to quietly undertake them. The endearing warmth of him charms his way into your heart, tempers the men around him into a tenderness shared by them all.

If Price is the sharp, protective gaze that watches over his mates, Gaz is the gentle, nuzzling touch that reminds them that they’re home.

It’s with a tender smile that you roll over onto Gaz, only to shiver at the hunger clear in his smiling stare as he gazes up at you

“Look at you.” He murmurs gently, raising a hand to cup your face with beloved tenderness. “Pretty omega.”

His eyes are blown dark with desire, the clear indication of his arousal hidden only by the knowing tug of his smile

“Heard Soap treated you well.” He murmurs huskily, stroking calloused knuckles against the soft flesh of your cheek. “Wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

Your eyes flutter shut at that, a sudden rush of arousal racing southward and alighting your spine with desire. You brace above him, feel his chest rise against yours as he finally whispers: “Can I kiss you?”

You lower yourself to his mouth as an answer, feel him sigh against your lips until you part with a small, wet noise

“You can do more than that, Kyle Garrick.” You offer coquettishly, and feel the electricity of his grin travel up the length of your spine

You giggle when he flips you under him, hauling you to him as you fall into a tangle of limbs and gasping little breaths. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe, pauses between breaths with little offerings of endearments and affectionate rasps

“Feel good? Yeah? You should see yourself, see how gorgeous you are, doll. We’re so so lucky.”

It makes you squirm under him, a little overwhelmed, but he merely chuckles and winds his fingers with yours, nuzzles against your scent gland to leave a reminder of himself there

When you feel arousal trickle down into your panties, he pulls away and inhales de

“Nuh uh” He teases, gently pinning your wandering hands to either side of you in the pillows. “Been wanting this for ages, pup. Gonna take my time with you.”

And he does. Gaz is slow and thorough as he appreciates every part of your body that’s revealed to him. Your hazy eyes rake greedily over the expanse of his chest, a touch of coiling dark hard on display between his pecs. When you place your hand over it, you feel his heartbeat

You squirm when his hands find the bare dip of your waist, ticklish and sensitive. Your fangs scrape gently on your lower lip, a tell-tale sign of your arousal, and when you look up you see Gaz is the same

He hasn’t stopped smiling

When Gaz at last makes his way between your legs and you pant at him “Gaz, please, need you-” He swipes his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick there that pools as a tell tale sign of your arousal. You don’t expect him, however, to lift his fingers to his lips and suck.

“Christ, Gaz-” You mewl, throwing a hand over your face abashedly.

“So sweet.” He purrs, and when you whimper, feel your legs clench he only tuts at you. “Don’t worry doll, gonna make you feel good.”

“Then get on with it.” You hoarse, only for your voice to crack in your throat as he spreads you open on his fingers

Just like the rest of you, Gaz takes his time finding the part of you that makes your breath stutter in your chest, makes you whimper and claw the sheets as white-hot pleasure laces through your veins. He’s disassembling you, putting you back together, instrumentally taking you apart to find the thing that makes you tick

You’re helpless against it, and every time you try and reach for him, encourage him, try to even kiss him, Gaz only hushes you back into the pillows with a deep, rumbling purr that scratches at your hindbrain

“Just let me take my time.” He tells you, nips at the inside of your thigh cheekily. “Sweet pillow princess.”

“I’m not a p-pillow p- A-ah! Fuck…” You try, with no success, at last resigning yourself to his ministrations

When Gaz is finally satisfied with your entirely debauched state, he at last frees himself with a relieved sigh. He’s long, slightly curved, flushed a dark shade of pink at the top in a way that makes your mouth water

“Are you sure?” He asks again as he kisses you, and he hums in satisfaction when you give him an eager nod, chest rising and grazing your nipples against the soft tickle of hair on his chest. “Tell me to stop if you need to. Want to make sure you feel good.”

He’s slow as he sheathes himself inside you with little resistance, and you throw your head back into the pillows, groan openly at the warm, pressing fullness of him that stretches you comfortably around his girth. When you gasp his name, he’s quick to breathe it in, pressing fluttering kisses onto your cheeks with reverent reassurance

He’s achingly tender with you, pausing between breaths to check once more, asking you again and again and you distantly realize it feeds his ego to see you get impatient with him, glassy eyes and brow scrunched and ordering him to move-

Yet when Kyle snaps his hips forward, your biting little pleas die down to soft mewls as he finally delivers the delicious friction you’d been aching for. You open up gentle and sweet for him, relishing the scarcely contained groans and pants he showers down on you with endless, sweet praise

“Feel so good, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Feels like I’m losing my mind-”

You flush under his endless endearments, feeling the rough rasp of his voice travel straight downwards to the joining of you both. You arch against him, urge him deeper, and Kyle is more than happy to oblige

Eventually his words drop off into quick little pants and groans, arms shaking as he braces himself over you, chest rising and falling quickly with uneven breaths

The sounds are enough to undo what little restraint you have left, wet, gasping sounds that drop from his chest breathlessly, dog tags swinging between you both

“S-shit, it’s good. Hah, yes- fuck. Just like tha- hnmng-”

He fits seamlessly into you, and you clench eagerly around him with every precise, rolling push of his hips. When he at last finds the bundle of nerves that makes you gasp wetly, he hones in on it, relishes you writhing under him in unrestrained desire

His sweaty forehead is braced against yours, pausing to deliver eager, passionate kisses and then pulling back so you can see his beautiful russet brown irises eclipsed with dizzying desire. The mere gaze of him swoops low in your belly and settles between your thighs, culminating in the desperate wheeze of his name as you cling to him, the intense and slow roll of your orgasm pulsing through you

When it abates, you realize he’s still pulsing inside you, achingly hard and desperately breathing through the squeeze of you on his cock, arms shaking with the effort.

“Fuck me.” He wheezes when your arms loosen, and you laugh breathlessly, press a nipping kiss to the underside of his jaw

“I just did.”

He pulls back from you, and your heart flutters at the sudden wickedness of his grin

“Sweet omega.” He purrs, depositing back so you’re flat against the bed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

It feels like hours later when he finally pulls away from your boneless form, face down in the sheets and clutching limply at your bedding. You’re weighed down with blissful aftermath, warm and sated and just a touch fuzzy around the edges. It’s not a whiplash exhaustion like it is with Soap, but more a slow, gentle release that drags every part of you into total, soft content that leaves you heavy and sated

Gaz lays at your side, trails a hand from the swell of your ass up to your shoulder over and over again. He doesn’t need to ask anymore if you’re satisfied, judging by the all too pleased sprawl of his smile. Instead he continues to shower you with kisses, the tickle of his mustache prickling against your skin as he moves you so he presses himself flat to your back, a mess of heavy, tangled limbs. The pillows are strewn around you, and you know his beloved scent will linger on them for a time to come, will cradle against your dreams

You think, in all his breathless endearments, that he’s said all that needs to be said. Yet when he nuzzles against your scent gland once more with a purr, it’s the aching affection of his words that guide you to blissful rest in his arms

“Going to treat you right, sweetheart” He whispers lovingly, soft enough to make your chest flutter with untamed emotions. “Promise.”

Taglist:

(Please have an 18+ or similar age disclaimer in your bio to be tagged in this fic)

@alicesfracturedmirror @emrzennn @scatter-mind001 @josieguts @angryvengeful @ramadiiiisme @mutuallimbenclosure @waves-against-a-cliff @sunnynomoar @miyabilicious @piratesfromspace @sofasoap @soapskneebrace @writeforfandoms @waltzthegenderfluidpan @ghosts-goldendoodle @cherrycoloredfunk86 @lostagoodcigar @tbrfic @appleschloss @tizylish @misshoneypaper @kkinky @reaper-chan666 @kenma-izhu @shinebright2000 @zalyluvvs @neoarchipelago @essencse @dankest-farrik @mirthlxss @bi-witch-bxtch @tallmanlover @vinithechocolatevampire @blackcat9091 @tiredmetalenthusiast @tizylish @miyabilicious @secretliteradite @ghosts-goldendoodle @angryvengeful @miraclesabound @lostagoodcigar @wolfyland07 @beebeechaos @kait-is-always-late @rv3rblog @cr3ampuffed @lazyninjaphilosopher @capawtine @sofasoap @cathnoneofyourbusiness @whynotbad @fake-id-69 @mememe7147 @thriving-n-jiving

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#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #gaz x you #omegaverse #cod omegaverse #my writing #my fic

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tightjeansjavi · 2 months

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The Rite of Movement | drabble

“creamy”

A/N: in anticipation for the suction cup dildo I ordered myself…😵‍💫

~word count: 750~

Summary: Joel watches as you fuck yourself with a dildo until he can’t help himself any longer.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: none, fluff, smut, domestic intimacy, established relationship, deep profound trust, amateur porn video, praise kink, sir kink, language, dirty talk, f!masturbation with a sex toy, oral f receiving, unprotected piv, soft!dom joel, reader and Joel and are stupid in love, readers nickname is baby love, reader has no physical descriptions, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Needy little hot breaths, and strained whines slip past your parted lips as you slowly work the thick, silicone dildo inside your slick, weeping little hole. A drool of your arousal drips down the crux of your thighs, staining the sheets beneath you. Your chest is glistening in beads of sweat, soft and glowing under the ambient lighting.

“Joel, please. I—I need more.” You whimpered, canting your hips upwards, desperate to feel more than what the ribbed silicone was giving you.

You had only recently grown accustomed to the idea of Joel being more of a dom towards you. It was baby steps in heed of the trauma you faced while working for Brazzers.

“Not yet, baby love. Keep workin’ yourself up. I know it ain’t as good as my cock, but you’re bein’ such a good girl, baby. Fuckin’ yourself so good on that cock. Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks from this angle.” He hums, sinking down on his knees between your legs with the camera zoomed in on the small opening between the dildo plunging in and out of your cunt.

He licks his lips as his eyes zone in on your slick coating the silicone, squelching soft sounds of your velvety walls pulling the silicone in further and further to your wet heat.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby love. You hear those sweet little noises your pussy is making? She’s so wet. She’s glistening…” he trails off, getting lost in the intimate moment of seeing you this up close. His cock twitches against the comforter pathetically, and he shifts his hips slightly for a moment of relief.

“Joel. Please, baby. I need—fuck—please.” You shallowly pump the silicone faster, breath hitching and back arching upwards on the mattress.

“Words, baby love. Tell me what you need. C’mon, pretty girl. Lemme hear you.” He said encouragingly, letting his palm rest close to your core, gently spreading you open further so he could get a better look. His pupils darken significantly, glazed over in lust, Adam’s apple bobbing and the thought crosses his mind again:

Ring. Ring. Ring. I need a fuckin’ ring.

“Need your mouth, sir.” You pant out, lashes fluttering as your internal muscles clamp down, squeezing around the silicone as another droplet of slick slips down from your hole.

“Where do you need my mouth, baby love. Tell me.”

“On my pussy. Please. I need your tongue, and mouth. Need it so bad, Joel.”

His chest swells with pride for your direct communication. He knows it’s a milestone worth celebrating, rewarding you for being such a good girl. He preens, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your pulsing clit, dragging the flat side of his tongue across it, moaning at the taste of you.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He rasps, dark lashes shadowing even darker brown eyes that flicker upwards towards your blissed out face. “Eyes on me, baby love. Lemme see ‘em.” He softly demands you, stroking his thumb gently across your outer lips.

He grinds the heavy weight of his cock against the comforter once more, staining the fabric with a dribble of precum weeping from the slit of his cock.

Your eyes snap open at his request, chest heaving, thighs begin to quiver and shake the second you meet his heady gaze. The heat rises to your cheeks as you watch the slow drag of his tongue across your clit, flicking it back and forth, up and down all while keeping steady eye contact with you.

He looks so pretty, cheeks flushed, lips moist with his saliva and your slick. Eyes dark, pupils blown wide.

Your freehand releases its steel grip around the comforter and reaches down for his jaw instead, fingers brushing across his beard, cradling his face gently.

“Good girl, baby love. Keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes.”

Your pussy flutters around the silicone, squelching and dripping wet, staining the comforter further in your slick, heady aroma swirling around his head like a musky, sex stained halo.

“You look so pretty, Joel—you’re so pretty.” You preen, hips bucking upwards against his tongue.

“Never look as pretty as you do when you’re comin’ undone, baby love. So fuckin’ pretty creamin’ on that cock.”

You’re both insatiable as your orgasm washes over you, and you waste no time to pull the silicone from your weeping hole just as Joel tosses the camera to the side, crawling up your body and chasing your lips while you reach for his cock, guiding him inside of you.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💗

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loveofdetail · 7 months

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i want to talk about Gale's "I'm not quite sure I'd consider myself father material" line because I think a lot of the fandom brushes it off as just another manifestation of his profound negative self-image but ummmmmmm. well i simply hard disagree. i think he's RIGHT, i think this is a moment of him having an honest and accurate self-assessment: he wouldn't be a good parent.

i do not say this as hate, i say this as someone who also would make a terrible parent. i'm impatient and intense about my own wants and i won't give up the freedom to do frankly irresponsible shit from time to time. i know this about myself and i look at gale and go "same hat."

if i'm being fully honest i find the quantity of pregnancy/parenthood content in the gale dekarios tag really off-putting. yes i have filters but they simply don't catch everything. i'm not trying to rain on anyone's parade, if that's what you like go wild with it no judgment etc etc. i know it's Just One Line of dialogue and a pretty ambivalently phrased one at that and it's everybody's inalienable right to ignore canon anyway, so...

but. man. in my heart of hearts it is genuinely alienating to see a character who 1) struggles with impulsiveness 2) struggles with suicidality 3) has a tendency to dismiss people who aren't on his level 4) is in the depths of navigating his own selfish/ambitious streak 5) hyperfixates on intellectual interests to a sometimes unhealthy degree and MOST OF ALL 6) expresses real doubt toward the idea of parenthood!!! ...get fandomified into The Perfect Dad. sorry.

#also as previously stated WYLL THE ACTUALLY SELFLESS ONE IS RIGHT THERE but that's a whole other post #gale dekarios #bg3 #will i regret posting this idk time will tell i guess!

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wineauntie · 3 months

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CEILINGS — luke hughes x childhood bestfriend!reader

summary: being childhood best friends with luke hughes starts to become a problem when you realise you can’t fathom a future without him.

notes: this took me so long to write but I love it, and maybe I’ll write a part two?? also take a shot every time I make direct reference to the titular song atp 🙏

warnings: borderline nsfw content, MDNI, fem!reader, reader has not-so-great parents, panic attacks, alcohol, swearing, nicknames such as: pretty girl and baby, swearing, questionable moments on both of your behalf, boys being jerks. Use of names Brock and Julia (if they’re your names change it!). The name Brock being slandered, these two are lowkey toxic, cheating.

word count: 8.5k+

On a Friday night at eighteen years old, you should've been out with friends causing chaos; at least that's what all the books and videos on Tiktok had suggested, yet you'd been lying on your bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling ahead of you, your hands interlaced on your stomach. You only shifted slightly when you'd received the text. There was only one person whose notifications hadn't been muted, so as soon as the twinkling sound chimed, your hand darted to your phone.

"Back porch, five minutes, we're going for a drive :)"

You'd let yourself smile as you sat up from the bed and replied to him with a thumbs up.

You had been best friends with Luke Hughes since birth. It's an odd thing to say, you admit, but it was the truth. Your mom and Ellen had been college roommates and when they both fell pregnant, your mom with her first child and Ellen with her third, they like to claim that they knew the two of their children would be best friends.

You saw the Hughes family as often as your family could. Your families would meet up for major holidays, video call on birthdays, and send and receive cards for any occasion. And despite the physical distance often created throughout your childhood, you and the Hughes brothers were close.

So when your parents took permanent residence across the street from the Hughes family a few years ago, you were delighted.

Your parents worked hard to provide for the family, and due to their long hours, you often spent your teen years within the Hughes household. From the moment you moved you and Luke had hit it off right away, it was as if an unspoken bond formed like a secret handshake between two souls destined to intertwine. Luke, with his mischievous grin and infectious enthusiasm, became your steadfast ally in navigating the rollercoaster of youth.

As the years unfolded, so did the subtle shifts in your dynamic. The innocent playdates evolved into late-night conversations, and the familiar comfort between the two of you began to carry a hint of something more profound. Unbeknownst to you, the heart that once beat solely for friendship found a new rhythm in Luke's company, an unspoken sentiment growing like a quiet bloom in the garden of their shared memories.

You brushed off all the signs of anything other than friendship. He was your best friend. You couldn't allow yourself to feel that way about him. At eighteen, the two of you had thrived as friends and everybody knew that where you went Luke would follow and vice versa.

You slipped on your shoes and made your way downstairs. Your parents were working, leaving you with the house to yourself, a fact Luke knew all too well. As you approached your back porch you saw Luke standing outside, a pair of keys dangling in his hand. As you slid open the door, you shot him a quizzical look.

"How on earth did your mom let you take her car?!" You questioned, shutting the door tightly behind you.

"Don't sound so surprised," he rolled his eyes, as the two of you made your way back towards the road where Ellen's car was parked.

"But I am surprised…Luke, you're not a great driver," you deadpan, your arms crossing as he opened the passenger door for you to hop in. You shoot him a look before climbing in carefully.

"You crash into one mailbox, one time and all of a sudden it's 'you're a bad driver, Luke.'" He scoffed to himself as he closed your door before getting in on his side.

"Except it wasn't just one mailbox, it was five and you took them out one after the other," You argued with a raised brow and a knowing smile, your eyes tracking him as he put the key in the ignition.

"Whatever, do you want milkshakes or not?" He asked, tilting his head towards you. Your protests died behind your closed mouth. "Hm…That's what I thought."

"Whatever," You mimicked, turning up the radio as he drove. "I'm on aux though."

"Fine!" Luke scowled,

"Fine!"

—

You and Luke had pulled into the public park and exited the car with your milkshakes in hand as you two made your way towards the benches, ignoring the brewing dark clouds overhead.

These benches were a sacred space to you two. Every debrief, every apology, every important conversation tended to happen on them. You two didn't exactly know when they became sacred but they were now and the two of you cherished the open space.

"How are things with your parents," Luke started as he sipped on his shake, whilst you situated yourself cross-legged on the bench.

"They're…good," you trailed off, giving him a pointed look as you drank. "Still fighting, still avoiding coming home until they have to. I don't really pay attention to it anymore."

"Fuck, y/n," he sighed, shaking his head. "Why don't you just come stay with us for a while? Y'know Mom and Dad love having you over."

"I know," you nod, your head falling to your chest. "I just…it's better if I'm home, Lu."

Luke frowned but made no attempt to push his idea any further upon noticing your discomfort. The quiet settled over the two of you as you both sipped at your drinks. You knew all too well that Luke had more to say about the matter but, you also knew he wouldn't continue once you'd shut him down.

"Besides, they don't argue much when I'm around," you added, causing Luke to roll his eyes at your false nonchalance.

The rain began to fall in delicate droplets, a soft pitter-patter on the leaves above as the once clear sky morphed into a canvas of ominous grey. You and Luke exchanged knowing glances as the first raindrops kissed the ground.

Abandoning your sacred benches, you and Luke started a brisk walk towards the car, milkshakes almost forgotten in the face of the unrelenting downpour. The once serene park transformed into a dance floor for raindrops, and you could feel the wetness creeping into your shoes.

The droplets turned into a gentle drizzle, gradually evolving into a torrential downpour. You paused in your tracks, letting the rain engulf you as it soaked you to your skin. Your head raised towards the sky with a small, childish grin, feeling your hair stick to your face and neck.

"Y/N, c'mon," Luke called out as he faltered, just steps ahead of you. He found himself doubling back and latching his on yours as he urged you to move. You lowered your head back to normality and snapped back into reality as you resumed running towards the car.

The moment you reached the vehicle, you swung open the door and hopped inside, the interior providing solace from the relentless rain. Droplets clung to your clothes, and as you settled into the driver's seat, Luke glanced over, a mix of worry and amusement in his eyes.

"Looks like we picked the wrong day for milkshakes," he remarked with a half-smile, wiping rainwater from his face.

You chuckled with a hint of resignation in your voice. "Typical us, right? Managing to find ourselves out in the middle of a storm despite the perfect weather earlier." Luke huffed out a laugh, his hands smoothing back his hair. You moved in your seat wincing as the dampness sloshed in your shoes. "Urgh, My shoes are full of water!" Your face screwed up as you whined.

The car's interior provided a cocoon of warmth, starkly contrasting the cold rain outside. Luke fumbled for the keys, and the engine roared to life, drowning out the sounds of the raindrops on the roof. Silence enveloped you both, the rhythmic beating of rain against the car forming a backdrop to the unspoken words hanging in the air.

As the car pulled away from the park, you stole a glance at Luke. His profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, revealed the familiar contours of a friend who had weathered many storms with you. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were carefully pursed. The question about your parents lingered, unsaid but not forgotten.

"You know, Y/N," Luke finally spoke, taking a deep breath and breaking the silence. He kept his eyes on the road. "I know I said it before but, our house is always open to you and maybe you don't want to and that's fine. But I don't want you to be lonely in that house. Alone is fine, lonely…not so much."

Your gaze met the side of his face, gratitude and a touch of sadness reflecting in your eyes. "I know that, Lu. More than you know." Your quiet voice replied, you moved your pinky towards his and looped it through. "I promise I'll come over if it gets bad."

Luke nodded and let his pinky squeeze yours momentarily before you let go as a pained understanding remained etched on his features. The car continued its journey through the rain-soaked streets, the cityscape blurred by water-streaked windows. Unspoken sentiments lingered, intertwined with the melody of raindrops and the hum of the engine.

As you parked the car by your home, the rain showed no sign of relenting. Your eyes wandered out of the car window towards the house when you spotted both of your parent's respective cars in the driveway. At the sight, you found yourself tensing, Luke's eyes examining your stiffened figure.

You exhaled shakily, trying to mentally prepare for the arguing as you and Luke exchanged a silent acknowledgement, a shared understanding that some storms couldn't be avoided. With a sigh, you braced yourself for the inevitable.

"I'll walk you to the back porch," Luke decided, his eyes unmoving from your crestfallen face. Your eyes glanced towards him and with a silent nod, the two of you exited the car and into the rain.

Luke grabbed your arm as you both ran towards the back of the house, trying your best to avoid slipping. As you rounded the house, the boy pulled you beneath the shelter of the porch, his hands around your waist as he moved you towards the back door.

"It's always like this!"

"Why do you always make a big deal out of nothing!"

Your tense body froze in your steps as Luke crashed into your back. The loud and harsh arguing voices of your parents faded away as you shook nervously. The world around you faded, and even Luke disappeared from your view, the only thing you were able to process was the rising swell of panic.

Luke sensed the sudden shift in the atmosphere as your body tensed, your breaths becoming shallow. Panic, like an uninvited guest, seized your senses, and the echoes of your parents' heated voices blended with the drumming rain, forming a dissonant symphony in your ears.

He gently steered you towards the car, concern etched across his face. The raindrops blurred with your welling tears as you fumbled to find solace in the familiar cocoon of the car. Luke slid into the driver's seat, his hands gripping the wheel with a reassuring firmness.

The confined space intensified the swirling chaos within you, the reality of your parents' constant battles tearing through the fragile facade you maintained. The world outside blurred, and Luke's voice reached you like a distant echo.

"Hey, look at me," he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours. "Deep breaths, Y/N, okay?"

His words appeared as a lifeline, a desperate attempt to anchor you amidst the storm raging within. You nodded, albeit shakily, and followed his guidance, inhaling the air that hung heavy with the scent of rain and exhaling the suffocating grip of anxiety.

As Luke continued to coach you through each breath, his voice a steady rhythm in the chaos, he sensed the need for a stronger anchor. Tentatively, he reached out, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of support. The warmth of his touch cut through the icy tendrils of panic, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

The rain painted a rhythmic tableau on the car roof, a lullaby attempting to soothe your frayed nerves. Luke's presence, a constant in the turbulence, became a lifeline, a connection to something stable amid the chaos.

But even the most steadfast anchors can falter in the face of relentless storms. Your panic intensified, a tempest of emotions threatening to engulf you. Luke, watching with his own panic brewing. He'd never seen you in this state. Sensing the urgency, he wracked his brain for any idea or thought to try to calm you down. He ran a stressed hand through his curls before he turned towards you.

"Please, don't hate me," He begged with a mumble as he leaned closer to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your trembling lips.

The world paused.

In that stolen moment, the rain outside seemed to quieten completely. The unexpected touch of his lips against yours sent a shockwave through the tempest within you. His hand lifted to cup your cheek whilst your heart raced, just this time not in panic. Time seemed to stand still as the kiss unfolded, a moment suspended between the echoes of arguments and the rhythm of raindrops. Luke's kiss, an uncharted territory in your shared history, left a lingering warmth amidst the storm.

When he pulled away, uncertainty clouded both your gazes. The rain continued its symphony on the car roof, a backdrop to the unspoken revelation that had just transpired. The world outside the car, soaked and chaotic, mirrored the complex emotions swirling within.

"Luke…," your voice faltered, words caught in the whirlwind of conflicting feelings.

"Y/N, I…," he began, his expression a mix of regret and longing.

The revelation hung between you like a suspended note in the silence, a chord struck amid chaos. The car, once a sanctuary, now felt like an arena where unspoken truths echoed louder than the rain outside.

"I didn't know what to do," Luke finally spoke, breaking the tension. His gaze held an intensity, a vulnerability laid bare in the confined space. "I'm sorry…But seeing you like this, I couldn't stand by and watch you suffer."

His words resonated with the implicit sentiments that had lingered between you, the undercurrents of something more profound than friendship.

"You kissed me," you whispered, the realization settling in.

"I did," Luke admitted, his eyes blinking carefully as he searched yours for any sign of lingering panic.

You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken feelings lifting, replaced by a newfound clarity.

"Luke, I don't…I'm just," you finally stammered, you're head was swimming into the depths of the unknown. You're fingers brushed against your lips as the moment replayed through your head. It had felt like a movie as if one of the countless romcoms you'd watched on repeat decided to possess your life.

"Yeah, no, forget it, you don't have to say anything…I'll walk you to the porch again," Luke rushed as he offered, his hand finding yours as a silent reassurance. Disappointment flooded your stomach as your eyebrows creased. The rain had transformed from a tumultuous force to a gentle drizzle, once more, as you stepped out of the car.

As you approached the back porch, Luke's once mischievous grin, and infectious enthusiasm, now carried the weight of what had just happened.

The porch creaked beneath the two of you, the voices from inside your house now dimmed. You silently moved towards the back door as you pushed open the door. You turned to face your best friend, where Luke's eyes met yours. You felt your gut twist as your gaze lingered on him, your eyes pleading for anything to be said.

"Thank you," you muttered, your eyes welling up as you stepped inside, leaving the rain-soaked porch and Luke behind.

You and Luke hadn't spoken of the kiss since that moment. In fact, it took three weeks for the two of you to stop avoiding each other and to fall back into step with your usual banter, yet there was an extra weight on the conversation, straining it for the both of you.

Luke Hughes had known you for approximately eighteen years, four months, and three days…and for approximately fourteen years, five months and two days, he knew he'd been in love with you.

The kiss you'd shared in the car two months ago had sparked every nerve in his body, and he'd found himself swept up by the tide and deposited on the remote island of not knowing what the hell to do. Especially since you'd never said anything else about the kiss after it's happened. The two of you had just moved on as if nothing had happened, and Luke hated it…even more so when you'd found yourself in a relationship of sorts with a boy on the football team.

The football team!

And to make matters worse, his name was Brock!

Brock! As if his parents had sneezed whilst writing out his birth certificate.

Luke had to watch with pain as you'd sit with his arm around you, laugh with, flirt with, and kiss him instead of doing all those things with Luke.

So, when you'd called him crying, asking if he could come get you from a house party, he was already out the door and in the driver's seat of his mom's car.

You were sitting on the curb of the pavement, your hands cradling your chin as you cried. Your phone has died as soon as you'd texted Luke your location. A cold breeze swept over your bare legs and arms, despite the fact they were huddled to your chest.

Your teary eyes watched as the familiar car pulled up in front of you. You wanted to sob in relief as Luke hopped out and practically ran towards you. You allowed him to wrap you in a hug, the warm embrace causing you to cry harder.

"Jesus Christ, y/n/n," Luke cursed as he pulled away. "Where's your coat? It's freezing out here!" He pulled away and yanked off his jacket before carefully laying it over your shoulders. "What happened?"

"Can we please go?" Your broken voice destroyed all of Luke's frustration. He nodded stiffly and helped you stand before he escorted you into the passenger seat, helping buckle you up as you sunk into the familiar comfort of the car. He shut your door gently and crossed back over into the driver's side.

"Y/N, if someone did something–" Luke started angrily as he shut his door firmly, his hands turning the key in the ignition.

"Brock's been cheating on me," you cut him off, your tears still falling. Luke looked towards you in shock, his mouth slightly agape.

"That bastard," Luke swore, unbuckling his seat belt as he began to move as if to storm down the street to the house party.

"Please, can you just bring me home?" You sniffled tearfully, "I just want to go…" Luke paused, nodded stiffly and restarted the car once more.

The car rolled smoothly through the quiet streets as you sat in a cocoon of Luke's jacket, warming up from the chilly night air. The silence between you spoke volumes, echoing the unspoken feelings and unresolved tension

Your head was splayed against your forehead as you leaned against the car door. Your head was a mess, the night taking its horrible toll. The engine hummed softly, a backdrop to the heavy air thick inside the car.

It didn't take long for Luke to finally turn to you, his expression a mix of concern and frustration which immediately softened upon seeing your tear-streaked face. "Y/N, don't cry. You deserve better and you know it." His eyebrows furrowed as you looked away.

"I know, Lu, but it's not that simple." You sighed, wiping away lingering tears.

"Yes, it is." His jaw clenched, and he spoke with an intensity that betrayed his emotions. "You deserve someone who treats you right, not someone who leaves you on the side of the road crying."

The truth hung in the air, but you hesitated to acknowledge it fully. "Luke, can we just…talk normally?" You begged.

"Yeah, of course, y/n/n." His voice quieted, as he nodded. His fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel.

"Apparently…He's been cheating on me since the start of our relationship," you whispered, daring to glance towards Luke, whose fists tightened on the wheel. "I only found out because I wouldn't sleep with him tonight…he said something along the lines of; "This is why I find it elsewhere"…" You let out a dry laugh, your tears rolling down your cheeks.

"He said he'd been sleeping with girls every time I wouldn't 'put out'." Your teeth sunk into your lip as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to tip over.

"I've never…" you paused, wondering if this conversation would cross the line from a causal friendship conversation into TMI. "I just wanted to be sure that I really liked him before I…" You trailed off, waving your hand as you looked towards the window again. "But that moment never came, I never felt like I wanted to…hell, I've only known him a month!"

Luke was quiet as he indicated down the street both you and he lived on. His jaw was clenched in fury, his mouth pursed to try to keep the frustrations from pouring out.

"I'm going to kill him," Luke finally uttered as calmly as possible. "He's a dick, y/n/n…"

"Yeah…" you mumbled, your eyes moving towards Luke's shadowed figure. "I won't stop you, he is a dick…I just thought that he really liked me.'

Even if you didn't wholly like him.

Your throat tightened at the afterthought while Luke pulled up outside his house. You'd looked away shamefully at your thought because, truth be told, you liked the idea that Brock could like you. You just thought that with time, you could like him too. That your heart could be swayed away from loving your best friend. Your face screwed up at the idea as you let out a shaky exhale.

Your eyes darted across the street to where your empty house was, sadness overwhelming you as you peered out. Things with your parents had gotten worse lately, and now they wouldn't speak to each other, and you got caught in the silent crossfire.

"Come on," Luke swung your door open. You were so caught up in your misery that you hadn't even realised he'd left the car. "You can stay the night in mine… Mom and Dad are gone to visit friends out of state."

You didn't bother to argue. You knew at this stage it would be pointless. You also knew that you didn't want to return home to the weight of your house's silence. You walked side by side with Luke up the driveway, your hands curled around his jacket over your shoulders, ensuring that it wouldn't slip.

The front door creaked open, and you both stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The familiar scent of your home enveloped you, offering a strange comfort amidst the chaos of emotions. You stood awkwardly, something you've never done inside the house. Luke examined your face before he quietly led you to his room, a familiar space that held the echoes of so many memories. The dim glow of his bedside lamp cast shadows on the walls as he led you to sit on the bed.

"I'll let you change into something more comfortable," Luke offered, gesturing towards a drawer with spare clothes. You nodded in appreciation, feeling a wave of exhaustion and vulnerability.

Luke was a giver. You'd known this even when you were little. He would give out kindness and laughter so easily, so freely…at least to you he would. You wanted to cry again at how caring he was being in this moment. You'd felt so selfish calling him earlier to come and get you but he'd been the only one to jump into your mind when you'd stumbled out of the house.

"These will probably fit," he stated, holding out a t-shirt and sweatpants toward you. You looked up at him, his soft brown, pleading eyes. You gulped as you stood once more and moved to the bathroom to change.

As you changed, the reality of the night's events sank in. The weight of betrayal, the unravelling of a relationship, and the unexpected solace found in Luke's presence all converged within you. When you emerged from the bathroom in Luke's oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, he was sitting against the headboard of his bed, a concerned expression etched on his face.

He patted the space beside him, and you sank onto the bed, the mattress providing a soft embrace. You couldn't even begin to count the number of times the two of you had fallen asleep on this bed together after watching movies or talking all night, so sitting with Luke was no unusual feat. The silence hung between you, laden with unspoken words and shared understanding. His eyes traced the contours of your face, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for tonight. You didn't deserve that," Luke spoke softly, his sincerity resonating in the hushed room.

"Thanks, Lu," you whispered, your voice wavering. "I just wished he didn't affect me like this…we were only casual. He said he didn't like to label things."

He shifted closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, offering a silent reassurance. The warmth of his presence acted as a balm, soothing the raw edges of your emotions. A small, grateful smile played on your lips as you leaned into his comforting embrace.

"You know, I've always hated that guy," Luke suddenly confessed, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "But seeing you like this just makes me want to punch him even more."

Despite the heaviness of the situation, a soft laugh escaped your lips.

Oh, that laugh…Luke thought he'd never hear a sound more beautiful than that laugh. His eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he grinned lazily at you.

"I mean, who names their kid Brock? It's like setting him up for a lifetime of being a jerk."

You chuckled, the weight of the evening momentarily lifted by Luke's playful banter as you looked up at him. He was still talking animatedly, his rage settling so as not to take his anger for Brock out on you in any way. You watched with gentle eyes as he spoke, your bottom lip between your teeth as your thoughts drifted.

"What's wrong?!" Luke suddenly questioned, his eyes wide as if he'd somehow upset you.

"I thought you mightn't come get me…" you admitted carefully.

"I'll always come for you, you know that, right?" Luke stated seriously, his breath tickling your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded. "I know, Luke… I just thought that…" you found yourself guiltily trailing off.

The room fell into silence, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing and the distant hum of the night outside. Your eyes met Luke's, and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you. It was as if the weight of unacknowledged feelings lingered in the air. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something to happen.

"Luke," you started, your voice soft, "we haven't been the same since that kiss…I've noticed it, and I know you've noticed it. I was scared you wouldn't come because it would be too awkward."

Luke's eyes widened slightly, and you could see a mixture of surprise and anticipation in them. The air in Luke's room thickened with tension, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

"I've noticed it," Luke shamefully admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate balance that had settled between you.

"It meant something to you, didn't it?" you ventured, your gaze searching his eyes for confirmation. "That kiss?"

Luke hesitated, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. "Yeah, it did," he finally answered, his voice laced with honesty.

The admission hung in the air, and a charged energy filled the room. Time seemed to slow down as the unspoken tension between you finally surfaced. Luke's hand found yours, fingers intertwining, and a warmth spread through both of you.

"I don't know why I chose that moment, y/n/n, I mean, I shouldn't have," Luke confessed, his eyes never leaving yours. "But that kiss… it was everything."

Your heart raced as you let out a small gasp. You felt as if the world was playing a cruel joke. This couldn't be real…this wasn't allowed to be real. You'd been suppressing your feelings for so long, all for what? For him to kiss you and admit that it meant something- meant everything? This was a sick and cruel game sent from the universe, and you no longer wanted to play it.

"Everything?" You repeated nervously, your eyes falling carefully to his chest.

"Everything," Luke's velvety voice confirmed as you raised your fingers to trail along his jawline. He sucked in a shallow breath, as you pushed yourself up closer to him, your nose almost touching his.

Before he could speak again, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. It felt like a culmination of years of unspoken emotions, a release of feelings that had been bottled up for far too long. Your thumb stroked his cheekbones as you leaned further into the kiss.

The kiss unfolded like a carefully choreographed ballet. Your fingers creeping towards the curls at the nape of his neck, whilst his hands found solace in the small of your back. It was a dance of exploration, a nuanced ballet of tactile discovery that resonated with the silent poetry of longing and fulfilment.

Your breaths synchronized, creating a rhythm that echoed the heartbeat of your connection. He tasted like a blend of strawberries and nostalgia, while you savoured the warmth of his embrace, a comforting refuge from the chaos of the world.

Your kiss grew more desperate as his fingers gripped your waist, your fingers lightly tugging his hair. In a swift move, Luke had pulled you on top of him, so that you straddled his lower body, your lips unmoving from his. You felt the vibration of his groan rumble through you as you shifted on his lap, pushing to get as close to him as possible.

You felt Luke's hands pull you towards him, provoking you to let a small gasp slip as you rolled your hips against him. Another groan ripped through Luke as he pulled away. He shifted, attempting to hide what was happening, but he couldn't fool you, you'd felt him grow harder against your thigh. His forehead leaned towards yours as you both caught your breath. Your hand lingered in his hair, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Y/N…we shouldn't do this, not tonight," Luke spoke, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he nudged your nose with his.

"I want you, Lu," you murmured with shut eyes. "I want it to be with you."

"Open your eyes, pretty girl," Luke softly ordered, to which you immediately obliged, a fluttering sensation erupting in your stomach. "I need you to tell me that you are okay right now. That you want this one hundred percent, I won't go any further until you are."

"Luke, I trust you more than you could ever know," you state, your voice steady and clear. "I want this to happen with you."

Luke felt himself fill with pride at her words as he nodded. He leaned forward to capture your lips once more. You melted into the embrace whilst his fingers moved under his T-shirt on your body and traced circles along your warm skin. You careened into his touch as he moved away from your mouth and let his lips kiss down your neck.

"I'm going to take this off now, okay?" He murmured against your ear as he tugged on your T-shirt. You nodded but felt him pull back, his fingers tapping under your chin so you'd look at him. "Words are important here, y/n/n… I want to make sure you're comfortable at every step."

"You can take it off," you say breathily, as his fingers slid along the hem.

"Good," Luke hummed and cautiously lifted the shirt over your head. He let out a small breath of air upon revealing your bare torso. You'd taken off your bra when you'd gotten changed earlier, and now you were more than thankful for that. "Fuck, pretty girl," he cursed with a small smile which caused you to bashfully bow your head.

Luke moved your chin once more, so you could lock eyes with him, his golden brown searching your gaze for any hesitance. "If at any stage you want to stop, you say it, y/n," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair out of your face. "You won't hurt my feelings, and I won't be mad. I mean it…you say stop, and everything stops, no matter what."

You flushed at his punctuated words, your chin bobbing before you remembered what he'd said previously.

"Alright," you agreed whilst your hands curled around his shoulders. "I promise."

With a satisfied nod, Luke's hands were back on your waist as he manoeuvred you, so your back hit the soft mattress, with him hovering over you. Your fingers clutched at the collar of his jumper as you pulled him down towards you, frantically moving your lips to his. Your head fell back against the pillow as Luke resumed his kisses down your neck. Your fingers tugged through the soft curls on the back of his head as you writhed beneath his touch.

"Luke," you gasped out, your lip trembling in desire as he moved towards your chest, his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of the sweatpants you wore.

"You are driving me crazy," he groaned out, his eyes flickering up towards you. You looked down at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed delicate kisses down your sternum and stomach, stopping just above your pants. "Please, can I take these off, pretty girl?" His voice sounded desperate as if you were depriving him of the only oxygen left on the planet.

"Yes…please," you stammered whilst he chuckled lowly and placed his lips momentarily on your hip before he pulled the sweatpants down, his eyes unmoving from yours. You felt a series of goosebumps spread across your body as he gently removed the article of clothing from your legs and flung the pants across the room.

"Luke," you whined as his fingers crept up your thigh almost teasingly. "Need more…need you, please!"

You felt the soft whisper of breath against your leg as Luke moved to sit up on his knees and yanked his jumper and T-shirt off in one fell swoop. Your jaw fell open at the sight, your fingers reaching out to brush his bare skin. You'd seen him in this state before, multiple times in fact, but this time was different, it was as if the light had shifted, no longer basking him in the shadows but allowing the light to shine solely on him.

"Oh, y/n/n," he sighed with a lazy grin as he looked down at your almost naked form. You squirmed beneath his wandering gaze, your hands moving to cover yourself. He tutted and took both of your hands in his and placed them on his shoulders, his eyes continuing to drink you in.

With the way he was looking at you, you would've thought someone had shown him the moon for the first time, pointing out its effervescent glow and the white, comforting light that washed over the world's darkness dousing it with hope.

You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down one of your arms right down to your shoulder, where he nestled his head in the base of your neck.

"I don't know how I lasted this long without you like this." He murmured against your hot skin, his fingers traipsing up your leg to hold your knee to his side. Your breath caught in your throat at the movement, your blown pupils following him at every move he made. "I'm going to ask one last time, pretty girl, are you sure about this?"

You gently lifted Luke's head so that you were face to face with him, your breaths mixing as he waited for your reply.

"Surer than I've ever been about anything," you say definitively, watching as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Luke grinned as he pressed himself against you, the only thing truly separating them being the scraps of fabric on their lower halves.

The room was charged with anticipation as Luke's lips found yours once more, the shared understanding and unspoken emotions weaving a delicate tapestry between you. At that moment, as your bodies intertwined, you both surrendered to the magnetic pull that had lingered since that unforgettable kiss in the car.

You sunk into the warmth of Luke's embrace offered solace amidst the chaos of emotions, creating a sanctuary where unspoken feelings found their voice and where your bodies intertwined and breaths synchronized, a newfound understanding emerging.

The unspoken tension that had lingered for months finally surfaced, and with heartfelt admissions, the connection deepened. The night became a canvas painted with shared vulnerability and the beauty of acknowledging long-suppressed desires.

You glanced at the clock on Luke's bedside table as it blinked the red, vibrant numbers of three forty-three am. Your bare body lay buried under the weight of the bed sheets and Luke's forearm around your stomach. The ache had settled between your legs, leaving your nakedness and his, as well as the mottled purple at the base of your neck as the only evidence of your night together. His body was pressed into your back, the steady thrumming of his heart lulling you. His other arm was stretched out, lying beneath your head as you fiddled with his fingers.

This was quite possibly the loveliest thing you'd experienced.

It was the perfect comfort from the chaos of your life. He was the perfect comfort. You shifted carefully, turning over as Luke let out a soft groan, pulling your body closer to his. Your lips tugged upwards as his arms engulfed you as if you were his favourite childhood teddy bear. You leaned your head to his chest, relishing the familiar warmth that it offered.

He was so cute, you'd thought, staying as still as possible as his head had moved to lay just above yours. Even in his sleep, Luke seemed to want to protect and cradle you from any and all harm. You wanted to scream from the rooftops just how much this boy meant to you, just how much you cherished him, but if that meant disturbing the serenity that has blossomed in the aftermath, you would be willing to wait.

You curled into him, your legs intertwining with his as your breaths steadied, and you allowed the calmness of sleep to wash over you.

–

You'd felt the bed shift beneath your exhausted body as the boy beside you stretched out his limbs with a silent yawn. The soft glow of morning seeped through the curtains, casting a warm hue on the tangled sheets and two intertwined bodies. Your eyes fluttered open, hazel orbs meeting yours, as his usual, familiar smile graced his lips. Luke's sleepy eyes met yours, a lazy smile gracing his lips. The remnants of the night's passion lingered in the air, a shared secret between you two.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice a low, soothing rumble that echoed the tranquillity of the moment. You couldn't help but return the smile, fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest.

"Morning," you whispered back, savouring the quiet intimacy of the dawn. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant compared to the cocoon you'd created in that bed. Luke's fingertips danced lightly along your back, sending shivers down your spine.

Neither of you rushed to break the spell. Instead, you let the morning unfold in a slow ballad of shared glances and gentle touches. The room held a hushed reverence as if it knew that something sacred had transpired under its roof. You smiled and stole a glance at the clock again, realizing that the world beyond the four walls of the room was stirring awake. The hushed whispers of the morning and its distant sounds seeped in, reminding you that life, with all its complexities, awaited just outside the window.

Eventually, the need for words emerged. Luke's fingers found their way into your hair, his touch a silent reassurance. "Last night…" he began, his gaze searching yours for understanding. You nodded, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken connection that had formed.

"Was incredible," you confessed, your voice a mere whisper. Luke's eyes sparkled, reflecting the mutual sentiment. There was a certain vulnerability in the air, a fragility that made the connection between you two feel both precious and precarious.

"But how are you feeling?" Luke asked as he leaned in pressing a lingering kiss beside your temple. You felt electrified at the action, a surge of emotions flooded through you—gratitude, contentment, and a twinge of excitement for what lay ahead.

"Luke, I'm fine…" you grinned, your eyebrows scrunched as you looked up at him. "More than fine…in need of a shower, but other than that, great." He let out a light laugh, his arm tightening around your shoulder as you made no attempt to move.

The weight of the morning sun intensified, casting a spotlight on the vulnerability of your exposed selves. The soft glow highlighted the curves and edges, all of the imperfections that made your shared space even more beautiful. You marvelled at how the sunlight painted Luke's features, turning him into a masterpiece of warmth and affection.

As the day beckoned, you realized the outside world would soon encroach upon your found haven. Responsibilities, obligations, and the relentless march of time would demand attention. But for now, in the soft embrace of the morning, you were suspended in a delicate equilibrium.

Luke pressed another tender kiss to your forehead, a silent promise of continuity in a world that thrived on change. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation of his lips against your skin. The world outside faded away, leaving only the rhythmic beating of your heart and the shared breaths that anchored you to the present.

And then it was over.

The morning bliss passed by far too quickly for your liking and before you knew it, you were dressed in Luke's clothes and heading back towards your house. Luke stayed at your side, his arm around your shoulders as he escorted you across the road. You relished his lingering touches and his softened eyes as the two of you approached the empty house.

"So…" you spoke, standing in the open doorway, looking up towards the boy. Your hands fiddled beneath the cuffs of his oversized jumper that you adorned.

"I like you, y/n," he blurted out as he scratched his head nervously. "I like you a lot, and if you don't feel the same, that's fine. But I'd like to know–"

You stepped out of your house and pulled Luke down with a small smile. Without another word, you crashed his lips to yours, his hands clasping your waist as the two of you moulded together. His hands locked around your waist, holding you as close as possible, your hands twirling around his curls– the curls you loved.

And as you reluctantly parted from him, a trail of electricity lingered, your fingers lifting to your lips giddily. His head remained bowed down towards you, his brown eyes, the eyes you cherished, scanning yours with a lazy smile.

"I like you too,"

- The two of you were keeping your blooming relationship on the lowkey. It wasn't that you were ashamed of it, or that you two weren't ready for that step but because you didn't think you could face the reactions of your families.

The Hughes would be delighted, of course. Ellen always teased that the two of you would end up together. The only people who wouldn't be as delighted would be your parents. Hell, you weren't sure if they'd be mad because you had a boyfriend or because their own love was falling apart.

And so, you and Luke had kept it between the two of you…at least around your respective families.

And it honestly hadn't been too difficult to do so.

You two continued to act as you had when you were only friends… just with a few more lingering touches and devouring kisses. You were certain a few of your friends had picked up on the difference but if they had, they didn't say anything and you were determined to stay in that state.

And a week later, you and Luke were in his mom's car again. Ellen and Jim had flown up to Vancouver to visit Quinn and watch him play, leaving Luke with an empty house, one in which you had been staying over in almost every night, tucked into the comfort of his arms.

Luke's hand was placed on your thigh as he drove, his thumb smoothing figures of eight over the expanse. You hummed along to the song echoing over the radio, your fingers scrolling through messages upon messages from your parents and friends. Luke squeezed your leg slightly as the car pulled up towards a remote house, currently filled to the brim with high school seniors.

It was one of the final parties of the year, a farewell hurrah for your last year of high school.

"You okay, pretty girl?" Luke asked, his head tilted towards you as he smoothed his hand up and down your thigh.

"Mhm…" you hummed with a smile across your face. "Just thinking."

"That's never good," Luke joked, causing you to lean forward and hit his chest in false rage.

"Yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes playfully, unbuckling your seat belt but as you went to grab the door, Luke hissed in offence and practically sprinted around the car to pull open your door for you. You snickered as you jumped out of the car. Luke slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest as the two of you walked towards the party.

The music filtered out into the night air as Luke and you walked straight into the house, instantly becoming engulfed by the smell of alcohol and sweat as people bristled around the home. Your hand laced with Luke's as the two of you manoeuvred through the crowd. The two of you spilt into the kitchen, with Luke grabbing you a drink and passing it back to you. He had agreed to drive the two of you home, meaning you were able to have a few drinks.

For the majority of the night, the two of them had remained in each other's grasp as you talked to friends and danced to the outrageously loud music. You'd been ripping away the drinks, a soft buzz filling your veins just enough to heighten your giddiness without distorting your reality.

Many people shot you and Luke questioning looks when he held you close to his chest or when he pressed lingering kisses along your neck and cheek. The two of you were wrapped up in your own little bubble, enjoying the last bit of freedom before the end-of-year exams.

"Gotta go to the bathroom," you yelled over the music as you broke away from Luke's hold.

"Want me to come with you?" He replied, his fingers traipsing down your arms.

"I'm alright," you grinned, kissing his neck gently before walking towards where you believed the bathroom was. You passed through the kitchen before you felt yourself being pulled back.

You turned around only to turn ashen as Brock's tight grip on your wrist pulled you closer to his body. You stiffened immediately, his face hovering just in front of yours as you tried to carefully pull away.

"Let go, Brock," you ordered as calmly as possible. His narrowed eyes scanned your face, his grip unwavering.

"You're screwing Hughes?!" He spat, the faint waft of beer on his breath flooded your senses. "You wouldn't let me fuck you but you're screwing him?"

"We're broken up…you cheated on me," your voice was trembling but your straight face remained as such. "Let me go."

"Bet you were screwing him when we were together too," he sneered, yanking you again. He was so close now that his nose brushed yours as you tried to pull away. "Bet you screwed everyone but me, but I'm not complaining…you have all kinds of diseases, don't you?"

You jerked away from Brock with teary eyes, your bruising wrist now free of his grip. Your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't even begin to say anything before you ran towards the bathroom, cutting past the complaining queue and locking the door.

Tears fell freely as your shaky hands rushed to brush away your tears. You couldn't focus on anything else at the moment, bar your growing want to be in Luke's arms and within the comfort of his gaze. You took a few shaky breaths in before you rushed out of the bathroom, ignoring the dirty looks and comments people in the queue threw at you.

As you navigated your way towards the living room, you kept your head down, your tear-stained cheeks flushed as you pushed passed people so determined to make it to Luke. You knew he'd soothe you, he'd hold you close and patch up your cracked soul.

"Y/N!" A girl, you recognised to be Julia, who was in your homeroom popped in front of your vision blocking your view of the living room. You stumbled back and met her panicked gaze as a fake smile plastered across her face. You knew it was fake, hell you were practically the queen of fake smiles.

"Oh…hi," you mustered, "if you'll excuse me…" As you tried to move around her, only to find your way blocked again.

"You really don't want to go in there," she almost begged. You could hear the pity in her voice, as her hands tried to prevent you from entering the room. You pushed her away in confusion, as she winced and moved from the entry of the living room.

"What the hell is your problem-"

Your words died in your throat as your eyes landed on the scene ahead of you.

Luke Hughes, your best friend, your safe haven, the boy you liked(...loved!), was tongue-deep in another girl's throat as people whistled and watched them around the living room.

His hands were on her cheeks as they often were on yours. His eyes shut as the girl careened at his touch. You felt your heart promptly drop to your stomach as you remained frozen in your place, your body vibrating in hurt.

He didn't even look up once.

It all crumbled down as you felt your stomach churn and you couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the betrayal. You clutched a hand to your throat as you burst through the crowd stumbling out of the house, dry-retching as you made it outside. Julia followed you outside, her hand caressing your back as you heaved.

Sobs tore through your body at the chaos that the night had unfolded. It was as if none of it was real. His words, his loving touches, his kisses, his embrace all of it was fake!

You'd trusted him and it was like the version of him you knew didn't exist!

You cried as Julia murmured to you, her hand running over your hair as she sat you down on the curbside outside of the house. You welcomed her comfort and despite not knowing her all that well, you found yourself spilling every last thought to her.

You sobbed as you confessed your love for him, how he was your first, how he said he liked you, how you'd grown up with him, how this would kill the only solace you had in life. And she listened. She listened and held you, as the party continued inside.

It was over— your perfect, dream of a romcom-esque love had come to an end, and you never even saw it coming.

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