#JUST HIT PLAY I PROMISE it's amazing

[coulsonlives]

This is the purest cat adoption video I've ever seen

[carnalcrows]

ME 'N THE DEVIL - THE SALESMAN

pairing: salesman x bottom male reader

synopsis: A story of obsession and longing, where one man's desperate need for love traps another in a web of fear, desire, and the haunting promise of safety that feels anything but safe.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, kidnapping, drugging, blood, reader's boyfriend is an abusive bitch, death, dubcon, forced submission, breading, cream pie, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 4.1k

A/N: requested by 🥀 anon (link). i don't think i did enough justice to this amazing prompt sksksjsj

The bar was nearly empty that night—just how you preferred it. The soft hum of the jukebox played a tired old rock ballad, the kind that felt heavy with nostalgia, though you couldn’t place why. The faint clink of glassware punctuated the quiet, as the bartender cleaned glasses with the same rhythmic monotony they’d perfected over years.

You sat hunched over the counter, fingers curling loosely around your glass of whiskey. The amber liquid reflected the dim, golden glow of the bar lights, casting distorted shadows against the wood.

“And then he…” You trailed off, swallowing against the lump rising in your throat. You stared into the glass, as though the answer to your pain might be hiding somewhere in the depths of the drink. “He called me a waste of space.”

The words hung in the air, raw and shameful. Your voice wavered, and you fought the urge to cry.

“Like I don’t already feel like one most days,” you mumbled, your lips pressing into a bitter line.

The bartender paused their wiping to nod, their expression one of quiet sympathy. But the gesture felt empty, rehearsed even. They probably heard stories like yours a hundred times a week—drunken tales of bad lovers, broken hearts, and bruised egos. Still, you pressed on.

“He doesn’t just yell,” you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes… he hits me. But he always says he’s sorry after, and I…” A hollow, bitter laugh escaped you, cutting through the thick air. “I keep forgiving him. Like a goddamn idiot.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you and the bartender. Their eyes flicked to the clock, their discomfort palpable. You couldn’t blame them. Who wanted to hear a stranger’s misery, especially one they couldn’t fix?

“Sounds like he doesn’t deserve you.”

The voice startled you—smooth, confident, and close enough to make you stiffen. It came from your left.

You turned your head, blinking at the man who had somehow slipped onto the stool beside you without you noticing. He was striking, his sharp features framed by slicked-back hair that glinted faintly under the dim bar lights. His suit was tailored to perfection, charcoal gray with subtle pinstripes that hinted at wealth and precision. But it was his eyes that caught you most. They were piercing, their intensity almost predatory, like they saw right through you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, your surprise laced with suspicion.

The man smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could melt the edges of even the hardest heart. It was warm, practiced, and just shy of charming.

“You deserve better,” he said, his tone soft but sure. “That much is obvious.”

You frowned, instinctively pulling back a little. The comment was unexpected, and you didn’t know how to take it. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He leaned back slightly, casual and self-assured, like he belonged in every space he entered. “But I couldn’t help overhearing. You deserve better than what you’re settling for.”

The directness of his words left you flustered. You hesitated, unsure whether to be defensive or grateful.

“You don’t even know me,” you muttered, a hint of challenge in your tone.

He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t need to. Some things are obvious.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, searching for some sign of an ulterior motive. But his face betrayed nothing except an odd mix of calm and curiosity. Finally, you turned back to your drink, muttering under your breath, “Bold of you to assume you know my life.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wrong,” he countered smoothly.

The corners of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

The next time you saw him, you were back at the bar, nursing yet another drink after another brutal argument with your boyfriend. The whiskey burned less this time, your tolerance rising in step with your misery.

You’d been thinking about the man from the other night more than you cared to admit—his sharp wit, his confidence, the way his presence had made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

When he appeared again, sliding onto the stool beside you like he belonged there, your heart skipped a beat.

“Rough day?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting, as if you were old friends.

“Something like that,” you muttered, your head low. You didn’t want to spill your heart out again—not tonight.

But he had a way of drawing you out. His questions were easy, his comments sharp but never cutting. Before you knew it, you were talking again—about nothing and everything. About the little annoyances of your day and the bigger cracks threatening to break you apart.

He listened, really listened, and offered thoughts that were insightful without being overbearing. He even made you laugh—a genuine laugh, something you hadn’t done in weeks.

By the time you realized how much time had passed, the bar was closing, and the two of you were walking out together.

The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint smell of rain. He walked you to your car, his presence steady and reassuring beside you.

“You know,” he said as you reached your door, his voice lower now, almost intimate, “you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unrelenting, and for a moment, you felt like he was seeing parts of you you’d tried to hide even from yourself.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, unsure how else to respond.

As you climbed into your car, you caught the way he looked at you through the window—like you were something precious, something he couldn’t quite have but desperately wanted.

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. And for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it might be like to let him have you.

The man couldn’t get you out of his head. You consumed him, haunted his thoughts, and stirred something primal in him. But there was one obstacle standing in his way: your sorry excuse of a boyfriend.

He watched from the shadows, studying the man who dared to hurt you. The bruises you tried to hide, the way your voice cracked when you spoke of him—it was enough to fuel The man’s resolve.

The next time he saw you at the bar, he smiled warmly and ordered you another drink. You didn’t notice the way his hand lingered over your glass for just a moment too long, or how the edges of your vision began to blur shortly after you finished it.

When you woke, you were in a dark room. The smell of dust and old wood filled your nostrils, and the faint sound of classical music played from a record player in the corner.

Your wrists were tied to the arms of a chair, the rope biting into your skin. Across from you, your boyfriend sat in a similar chair, thrashing and screaming into the gag that muffled his words.

“What the hell—?” you began, your voice trembling.

“Good evening.”

The man stepped into view, his sharp grin cutting through the dim light. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his hands clasped behind his back.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, panic rising in your chest.

“It’s simple,” he said, his tone calm. “You’re going to play a game.”

On the table between you and your boyfriend sat a revolver, its gleaming barrel a stark contrast to the grimy room.

“Russian roulette,” The man explained, picking up the gun and spinning the cylinder with practiced ease. “One of you walks out of here. The other… doesn’t.”

Your boyfriend screamed behind his gag, his eyes wild with terror. You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No! I won’t do it!”

“Oh, but you will,” The man said, his smile never wavering. “Because you want to live. And deep down, a part of you wants him to pay for what he’s done to you.”

The man placed the revolver on the table, spinning the cylinder with a flick of his wrist. The ominous cl-click of the mechanism echoed in the room, setting your teeth on edge. He looked between you and your boyfriend, his grin widening as if he relished your fear.

“Let’s begin,” he said, picking up the gun. His movements were deliberate, almost casual, as if this were no more than a game of cards.

“You’re not rolling the barrel?” you questioned in shock, staring into his eyes, which seemed devoid of any emotion.

“What’s the fun in that?” he merely grinned, while adjusting his cufflinks.

He pointed the revolver at you first.

Click.

The sound was deafening, despite the empty chamber. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down the barrel of the gun.

The man chuckled softly, as if entertained by the way your shoulders heaved with each shaky breath. “Nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

He turned the gun toward your boyfriend.

Click.

Your boyfriend thrashed in his chair, muffled cries spilling through the gag as he shook his head violently. You could feel his terror radiating across the small room, mingling with your own.

“I’d almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a waste,” The man mused, spinning the cylinder again with deliberate slowness. The sound of the metal grinding against itself sent a chill through your entire body.

The gun swung back to you.

Click.

You flinched, tears spilling down your cheeks as your vision blurred. Your mind screamed at you to move, to do something, but you were frozen, your body paralyzed by fear.

The man hummed a classical tune softly under his breath, tapping the side of the gun like he was debating his next move. His eyes flicked between you and your boyfriend, finally landing on the latter.

“Let’s see if he’s feeling lucky.”

He raised the gun again, pointing it between your boyfriend’s wide, bloodshot eyes.

Click.

Your boyfriend screamed into the gag, thrashing so violently that the chair scraped against the floor. Sweat dripped down his face as his muffled cries turned into guttural, animalistic wails of desperation.

The man sighed, feigning disappointment. “Oh, the suspense is killing me,” he said, the grin on his face making it clear that he was enjoying every second.

The revolver spun again, slower this time. You heard every metallic grind as it came to a stop, and your stomach lurched.

This time, the barrel swung back to you. The man pressed the gun against your cheek, the cold metal biting into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re terrified,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, like a lover’s confession.

Click.

You gasped audibly, your eyes darting to his. He stared back at you with a manic glint, his grin splitting wider as though your anguish was his favorite song.

Without warning, he turned the gun back to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend screamed, shaking his head violently, tears streaming down his face. He made a muffled plea through the gag, words you couldn’t make out but understood well enough: he was begging.

The man tilted his head, feigning consideration. “I wonder what your last thought is right now. Regret? Fear? Or maybe it’s anger… at yourself for being such a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot ripped through the room, leaving your ears ringing. Blood sprayed across the table and onto your face in hot, sticky droplets. Your boyfriend’s head snapped back violently before slumping forward, the rope keeping his body upright as blood poured from the jagged hole in his forehead. His body twitched once, then fell still.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the acrid smell of gunpowder, burning into your nostrils. Your stomach churned as you stared at the lifeless shell of the man who had once called you his.

You should’ve felt horror, revulsion, or even guilt. But somewhere deep down, a small, twisted part of you felt… relief. Relief that it was finally over, that he couldn’t hurt you anymore.

The man stepped closer, crouching in front of you and gently brushing a blood-spattered lock of hair from your face. His touch was uncomfortably tender, a stark contrast to the carnage around you.

“You’re free now,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You stared at him in shock, your mind a haze of terror and conflicting emotions.

Before you could process what had happened, darkness crept in once more.

When you woke, it was to the dim light of dawn filtering through your curtains, casting soft, golden rays across your room. Everything felt disjointed—your body ached in places you couldn’t explain, and your mind was swimming in a haze of fragmented memories. For a few blissful seconds, you thought it was just a nightmare, a grotesque figment of your imagination brought on by too much alcohol and too little sleep.

But then you noticed the faint metallic scent still lingering in the air.

Sitting up, you looked down at yourself. Your clothes were rumpled and clung uncomfortably to your skin, but it was the faint smudge of red near your collar that made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to believe it. You stumbled to your feet, each step heavy with dread as you made your way to the laundry hamper.

And there it was—a bloodstained shirt.

The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, your breath hitching as the reality of it all came crashing down. It wasn’t a nightmare. It had happened. The screaming, the gunshots, the blood—it was all real.

You threw the shirt into the deepest corner of the hamper and slammed the lid shut, as though that could contain the memories clawing their way to the surface.

For days, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t function. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of it: his twisted grin, the spray of blood, your boyfriend’s lifeless body slumping forward. Guilt and relief warred within you, an impossible combination that left you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, you realized you had to do something. You couldn’t keep drowning in your own mind. So, you decided to rebuild.

You poured what little savings you had into opening a small bakery, a cozy place tucked into a quiet corner of town. It became your sanctuary, a space where you could channel your pain into something productive. Kneading dough, shaping pastries, and watching loaves rise in the oven—it was simple, grounding work that gave you a sense of control when everything else felt so chaotic.

The bakery quickly became a modest success. Locals loved the fresh bread and the warm, inviting atmosphere you worked so hard to create. For a while, you almost believed you could have a normal life again.

But then he walked in.

It was an ordinary afternoon. The scent of freshly baked sourdough filled the air, and sunlight streamed through the shop’s front windows, casting a warm glow across the wooden countertops. You were arranging a tray of croissants when the bell above the door jingled.

Looking up, your heart stopped.

There he was, standing in the doorway as if he belonged there, his sharp features and piercing eyes unmistakable. He was dressed as impeccably as ever, his suit perfectly tailored and his smile disarmingly casual.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, approaching the counter with an air of ease that made your skin crawl.

Your hands trembled as you wiped them on your apron, trying to steady yourself. “What… what are you doing here?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away, instead glancing around the shop with an almost appreciative expression. “Just passing through,” he said finally, as if that explained anything. He slid a few bills across the counter. “A few loaves of sourdough.”

Your fingers fumbled as you grabbed some fresh loaves and wrapped them in parchment paper, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You avoided his gaze, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move.

When you handed him the loaf, your hands brushed for the briefest moment, and you pulled back like you’d been burned. His smile widened, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone light and polite, as though this were just a normal interaction.

He turned and walked out without another word, the bell jingling softly in his wake.

As you closed shop for the evening, flipping the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED," a deep sigh escaped your lips, the weight of the day melting off your shoulders. It had been one of those relentlessly busy days where time blurred—an endless parade of smiling customers asking for pastries, loaves, and the occasional custom order that had you juggling more than your two hands should allow. The familiar ache in your back and flour dusting your sleeves were reminders of how hard you’d worked. But as the quiet settled in, so did a sense of peace.

For once, your mind wasn’t completely consumed by thoughts of him. It was a rare reprieve, the memories and fears receding like the tide, leaving you with something close to calm. You held onto that feeling tightly, as though letting it slip away might invite the darkness back.

After locking the door and slipping the keys into your pocket, you stood on the sidewalk for a moment, staring at the fading sunlight painting the horizon in soft hues of orange and pink. The thought of going straight home to your empty apartment felt suffocating—too quiet, too lonely, too much room for your thoughts to spiral.

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the faint scent of grass and distant flowers, and an idea bloomed in your mind. The park. It had been weeks since you’d allowed yourself the luxury of just… being. You needed the fresh air, the open space, the sounds of the world moving on around you. Maybe, just for a little while, you could convince yourself that everything was normal.

And then you saw him.

He stood on the sidewalk, holding the bread that he had bought from you for a moment before deliberately letting them fall to the ground. Then, with calculated cruelty, he ground it under his heel, the parchment paper tearing and the loaves crumbling into pieces. A group of homeless people nearby looked on, their gazes hungry and desperate, but he didn’t so much as glance at them.

Instead, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

That grin spread across his face again, wide and manic, his teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. It wasn’t a smile of kindness or humor—it was a promise. A reminder.

Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, your breathing ragged. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the message was clear: you weren’t free of him.

Not yet.

That night, you awoke with a start, your senses assaulted by the soft, flickering glow of candlelight. Shadows danced along the walls, their movements hypnotic and eerie, the faint scent of wax and smoke filling the air. Your heart pounded as you realized you weren’t in your bed. The room was unfamiliar—opulent, in a hauntingly old-fashioned way. The furniture was dark wood, the drapes heavy and velvet, the atmosphere suffocatingly intimate.

And then you saw him.

He was standing over you, his silhouette bathed in the golden light of the candles. His suit was pristine as always, his tie slightly loosened, and his sharp features softened just enough to be disarming. But it was his eyes that held you captive, their intensity pinning you in place like prey caught in a predator’s gaze.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and velvety, carrying a dangerous edge of satisfaction. He crouched beside the bed, his movements deliberate and smooth, his presence overwhelming. “Good. I was starting to think you’d sleep through the best part.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came up to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt utterly at odds with the situation. His touch was cold, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help but flinch.

“You can’t run from me,” he murmured, his tone soft but laced with an unyielding certainty. “I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. But you belong to me, and it’s time you understood that.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. You hated how vulnerable you felt, how powerless you were under his gaze. His thumb brushed a tear away, his touch almost reverent, and he smiled—a soft, bittersweet smile that only made you feel more trapped.

“I adore you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every moment, every thought, it’s all been for you. Don’t you see? I’ve done everything for you. And now, you’re mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, and all-consuming, like he was trying to claim every part of you at once. His hands cradled your face, his grip firm but not painful, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he let go.

You hated yourself for it, but you kissed him back. Your body betrayed you, a spark igniting deep within you that you couldn’t extinguish. His passion was intoxicating, pulling you under like a riptide, and for a moment, you forgot everything else—your fear, your anger, your confusion.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was hot against your skin, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ll be safe with me,” he murmured, his voice heavy with conviction. “Forever.”

His words sent a chill through you, not because you doubted him, but because you believed him. There was no escaping him—not his obsession, not his control, not the twisted connection that bound you to him.

Deep down, in the parts of yourself you didn’t want to acknowledge, you knew he was right.

His hands slowly trailed down to the hem of your pants, tugging them off. The cool breeze hit your thighs, forming goosebumps along the soft skin– making you shiver with a mix of delight and fear.

He pressed forehead, slowly inching down to your lips, pulling you in once more, as he lifted you in his arms completely.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he cooed whilst sliding your boxers down, revealing your throbbing erection.

You whimpered at the praise as he brought his hand to your chin to make you face him. His eyes– which previously felt devoid of having any human emotion, were now different. You couldn’t place exactly what it was.

As he pulled you into another searing kiss, one of his fingers prodded at your exposed hole, wet with lube. You yelped at the sudden intrusion, only to be silenced with another kiss.

He slowly pushed his finger in, followed by another, and then another. Three digits were slowly pumping in and out of you, as you held on to the man’s already crumpled shirt for some sense of balance.

When he deemed that you had been prepped enough, he slowly removed his fingers, and replaced them with his hardened length (you hadn't noticed him taking his pants off–oh well).

He pushed the tip in, making you throw your head back, and an almost pornographic moan leaving your lips.

The man let out a low groan,you were so tight that it seemed like your hole was sucking him in. When he bottomed out, you took few deeps breaths, but before you could say anything, he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in.

Your eyes went to the back of your head, jaw going slack. His hands were holding your legs up in such an angle that he was hitting your prostate with every single thrust.

Your hole clenched around his length, almost making it hard for him to move– but he seemed to manage. He fucked into with reckless abandon, marvelling at your pretty sounds– they were angelic to his ears.

Soon, you felt your orgasm consuming you like a raging waterfall; but the man wasn’t finished. He rammed into you even harder than before, the overstimulation making your brain go fuzzy.

Eventually, his thrusts stuttered, and he spilled his load into you– painting your insides a pearlescent white.

You huffed, feeling filled to the brim as he slowly placed you back onto the bed. The exhaustion made sleep consume you once more.

“You’re mine now, little dove– and I’m never letting you go.”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The fire between us | LN4

☃️ summary ━━━━━━━ Trapped in a Swiss cabin during a snowstorm, Lando and Y/N, who’ve been friends for less than a year, are left alone. As they play strip poker, hidden feelings surface, leading to a playful, intimate night where their connection deepens.

☃️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

☃️ word count ━━━━━━━ 7.4k

☃️ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

It was the week before Christmas, and the Swiss Alps had transformed into a winter wonderland. A luxurious cabin was nestled at the foot of the mountains, offering everything one could dream of—cozy fireplaces, panoramic views, and an atmosphere thick with the promise of festive memories. Lando had been the first to arrive. As the one who’d paid for the cabin and organized the trip, he had eagerly anticipated the getaway with their friend group. He loved skiing, but even more than that, he loved the idea of spending a few quiet days away from the hustle and bustle. More than anything, though, he was excited about being alone with her—Y/N.

From the moment they met less than a year ago through mutual friends, Lando had been captivated by her. She was different, making his heart race just a little faster whenever she was near. He tried to hide it—keeping his feelings buried beneath casual conversations and friendly smiles—but every time he saw her, his heart betrayed him. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Despite his efforts to keep his feelings hidden beneath casual conversation and playful teasing, they simmered just below the surface, growing stronger each time they hung out.

But Y/N had no idea. At least, that’s what he thought. She treated him like a close friend—nothing more. They’d spent time together over the months, enjoying each other’s company, making memories, but it was always just... friendly. And Lando had become all too familiar with that painful distance—the fine line between friendship and something more that he had no idea how to cross.

That was until this trip.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was the second person to make it to the cabin. And just as she stepped out of her car, the snowstorm began. The storm had been forecasted, but it hit much harder than expected. Before long, the roads were impassable, and their friends were stuck on the other side of the mountain, unable to get to the cabin. Just like that, Lando and Y/N were alone together, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with only each other’s company to keep them entertained.

Y/N was still adjusting her coat, brushing the snowflakes from her hair as she walked inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Lando, who had been staring out the window with a faint smile, snapped out of his daze when she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey! It’s freezing out there,” she said, stomping her boots on the mat as she entered.

Lando couldn't help but grin, his heart skipping at the sight of her. “You're telling me. I wasn’t expecting this kind of snowstorm.” He glanced outside. The flakes were falling heavier now, swirling around in the night sky. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a while.”

Y/N laughed. “Great. I hope we’re stocked up on food. I’m not sure I can survive on just wine and Christmas cookies.”

Lando chuckled, holding the door open for her to come inside. "We've got plenty of food. We’re going to be fine. Don’t worry."

“And it looks like it’s just you and me for the next few days,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of something more—something he couldn’t quite place.

Lando smiled, trying to act nonchalant, but his pulse quickened. “I guess so. Should be fun,” he replied, glancing around the spacious cabin. The fire was already crackling in the living room, the tree twinkling with Christmas lights, and everything felt so cozy. But it was also... quiet. Too quiet. Just the two of them.

After they had settled in and exchanged pleasantries about the snowstorm, Y/N collapsed onto the couch, kicking off her boots and letting out a sigh of relief. “This place is amazing, Lando. I could live here.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Lando replied, smiling at her. “It’s the perfect place to get away.”

They exchanged a few casual words, laughing at some of the jokes their friends had sent through text. But as the night grew darker and the storm raged outside, they were left alone in the quiet of the cabin, with only the sound of the fire and the wind howling through the trees.

Y/N stretched out, glancing at Lando from across the room. “So, what now? We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. What should we do?”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with mischievous intent. “Well, we could play a game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like Monopoly or something?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. “Or something a little more... interesting.”

Her curiosity piqued, Y/N leaned forward. “What did you have in mind?”

Lando’s lips curved into a sly grin. “How about strip poker?”

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. “Strip poker? Really?”

Lando chuckled, knowing how she might react. He’d teased her with ideas like this before, but never seriously. Tonight, however, it felt like the perfect opportunity to let the playful tension between them simmer into something more. “What? You scared?” he asked, his voice dipping into a low, teasing tone.

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly thinking it over. “Scared? Of you? Please.” Y/N shot him a teasing grin of her own. “You sure you want to risk it?”

“I’m not scared. Are you?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. Let’s do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, gathering the cards. He wasn’t entirely sure how they got to this point, but there was no turning back now. He could already feel the playful, flirty energy between them, and it only made him want to tease her more. The game started innocently enough. They each took turns dealing the cards, laughing as they made their moves. At first, it felt just like any other game—light, easy, and full of jokes.

But as they started shedding clothes, something shifted. Lando couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes lingered on him just a little too long, how her lips curled into a teasing smile whenever he lost a round. And she was good—really good. Each time she won a hand, she would make a show of pulling off a layer of clothing, the way her body moved making Lando’s pulse spike in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.

When Y/N was down to her tank top and leggings, she shot him a look. “Looks like I’m winning, Lando. Are you sure you’re alright with that?”

Lando could barely keep his eyes off of her. The way she smiled, the way she moved... everything about her made his heart race. “I’m just getting warmed up,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You should be worried.”

“Worried?” She let out a soft, melodic laugh, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’m not the one losing clothes here.”

Lando grinned, trying to shake off the growing heat that he felt every time she looked at him. He could tell by the way she kept glancing at him that she was feeling the tension too. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it had become something else, something more dangerous, and he couldn’t seem to pull back. “It’s not over yet,” he said, his voice low.

Y/N shrugged, her lips curling up into a smile. “I’m not sure you can come back from this, but we’ll see.”

Finally, it was down to the last round. Both of them were now only in their underwear, the cards spread out between them on the floor. The fire crackled in the background, the only sound in the room except for their breathing.

“So,” Y/N said, her voice low, “you ready to lose?”

Lando swallowed hard. “Not yet,” he replied, trying to sound confident, though his mind was racing. The last layer of clothing between them felt like a barrier he couldn’t cross, but the tension was thick enough to slice with a knife.

They played their final hands, both of them taking risks, both of them desperately trying not to give in. And in the end, it was Y/N who won. She threw down her cards with a laugh, eyes sparkling.

“Well, looks like you’re the one who’s going to lose this time,” she said smugly, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Lando stared at her, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just getting started.” Without another word, he closed the gap between them, pulling her into a kiss that was nothing like the playful teasing they had shared moments before. This kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with the intensity of everything that had been building up between them for months.

Y/N froze for a second, surprised by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into him, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The heat from the fire seemed to intensify as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed close together, the game now forgotten.

When they finally pulled apart, their faces flushed with more than just the warmth of the fire, Lando whispered, “I think I lost... but in the best possible way.”

Y/N’s smile softened as she traced the line of his jaw with her finger. “I think we both won,” she said quietly.

They decided to keep playing, though the silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unfinished moments. Lando could feel it in the way Y/N’s breath hitched slightly when he leaned closer, and in the way her fingers trembled just enough to be noticeable as she reached for another card.

This is it, he thought, his pulse quickening. One more round. One more chance to either lose everything or finally claim what he’d been wanting for so long.

“Your move,” Y/N said, her voice low but steady, her eyes locked on his. Her lips curved into a faint smile, teasing but laced with something deeper—something that sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers brushing against the edge of the deck. He could feel the heat radiating off her, even from across the makeshift table they’d created on the floor. Her bra hugged her skin, the straps resting delicately on her shoulders, drawing his attention and making it impossible to focus on anything else. His own boxers felt like a damn prison at this point, constricting every thought and movement.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice light but pointed.

He blinked, caught off guard, and forced a laugh. “Am I?”

Y/N tilted her head, her grin widening. “A little. You might want to focus. If you lose again, there won’t be much left to look at.”

Her words were playful, but there was an edge to them, a challenge that made his chest tighten. Focus, Lando, he told himself. But no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept drifting back to her. To the way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder, the way her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire and whatever tension was simmering between them.

“I’m focused,” he said, trying to sound confident even though his heart was pounding. “Just... taking my time.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, clearly unconvinced. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the ground, and the movement drew his attention to the way her bra shifted, revealing just a hint of skin.

God, he thought, how is she doing this to me?

He picked up his cards, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped them over. Two pairs. Not bad, but not great. He glanced at Y/N’s hand, trying to gauge her expression, but she was too good. Her face was calm, composed, her eyes still locked on his with that same spark of mischief.

“Well?” she asked after a beat of tense silence. “Are you going to fold, or are you in this to the end?”

Lando hesitated, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the knowledge that this wasn’t just a game anymore. It was something more, something that had been building between them for months. And now, here they were, alone in this cabin, stripped down to the bare minimum, their bodies close enough to touch.

If I fold, he thought, then it’s over. And if I don’t...

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed.

“I’m in,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his decision. “Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She laid down her cards, and Lando’s stomach dropped. Three jacks. He couldn’t believe it. She’d beaten him again.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re good at this.”

Y/N laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest ache. “Told you you should’ve folded.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, forcing a grin. “Guess I’ll have to live with the consequences.”

He started to move, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, but Y/N stopped him with a single word.

“Wait.”

Lando froze, his hand hovering above his hips. “What?”

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite place. “Let’s make this interesting.”

His pulse quickened. “Interesting how?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pushed herself up onto her knees, bridging the gap between them until she was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin.

“Take them off,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “But not yet. Just... stay like that.”

Lando’s throat went dry. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Like what?”

Y/N’s gaze flicked downward, lingering for a moment before returning to his face. “Tease me first. Make me wait.”

The request hung in the air between them, heavy and charged. Lando could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, the blood rushing through his veins. He wanted to protest, to say something clever or sarcastic, but the way she was looking at him—like she was daring him, testing him—made it impossible to think of anything else.

“You’re serious?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Very.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The fire crackled softly behind them, the storm outside howling louder now, as if urging them to act. Lando could feel the weight of her gaze, the way it seemed to pierce through him, stripping away any pretense of control.

And then, without thinking, he reached for the hem of his boxers, tugging it upward just enough to reveal the barest hint of skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she watched him. “More,” she said, her voice low and husky.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as he pulled the fabric up another inch. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Is this what you wanted?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his thigh. “Almost,” she said, her voice a sultry purr. “But not quite.”

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heat of her hand on his skin, the sensation sending sparks of electricity coursing through his body. “What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

She smiled, slow and deliberate, her eyes locking on his. “Show me,” she said simply. “Show me how much you want this.”

Lando’s fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, his breath hitching as he hesitated for just a moment. His eyes remained locked on Y/N’s, her gaze steady and unyielding, daring him to go further. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that made her look even more alluring, more demanding. He couldn’t resist—not anymore.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid his boxers down, revealing himself completely to her. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with an electric tension that made his skin prickle. He was fully exposed now, every inch of him on display, and yet it didn’t feel humiliating or uncomfortable. Instead, it felt... thrilling. Dangerous.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took in the sight of him, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She was clearly caught off guard, though whether by surprise or arousal, Lando couldn’t tell. What he did know, though, was that her reaction only fueled his own desire. He was playing with fire, and he wasn’t about to back down.

“Satisfied?” he asked, his voice low and rough, practically dripping with challenge. The corner of his mouth lifted into a sly grin as he watched her squirm under his gaze.

Y/N blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I... I don’t think so,” she stammered, her voice uncharacteristically breathless. She leaned back on her hands, her legs crossed at the ankles, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, the way her eyes kept darting to him and then away, gave her away.

Lando chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to shift the dynamic between them. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “You can’t expect me to believe you’re not impressed.”

She rolled her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the flush that spread across her neck. “Impressed? By what? Your poker skills? Because those definitely left something to be desired.”

He smirked, knowing she was just trying to play it cool. “Oh, I see. So you’re still mad that I lost. Fine. Maybe we should play another round. Even the odds.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from playful to wary in an instant. “Another round? Really? You’re not exactly... dressed for the occasion.”

Lando leaned back, stretching casually, his movements slow and deliberate. “Who says I need clothes to play? Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s not like you’re shy about winning.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The heat in the room had reached an almost unbearable level, and it wasn’t just from the fire. With only her underwear on, every subtle movement was impossible to ignore. Lando’s eyes flicked to the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat, the way her legs shifted restlessly against the floor as if she was trying to maintain control. She was fighting it, resisting the pull between them, but he could see the cracks forming in her resolve. And honestly? He loved watching her struggle.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “But this is your last chance. Don’t blame me if you lose everything.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “I’m used to betting big.”

They shuffled the cards once more, their fingers brushing more often than necessary. Each touch sent a jolt of anticipation through Lando, making him wonder if Y/N was feeling it too. The game began, but it was hard to focus with the way she kept stealing glances at him, her eyes lingering just a little too long on places they shouldn’t.

The first few rounds were tense, both of them holding their cards close to their chests. Lando tried to keep his confidence up, but the way Y/N’s breathing quickened with each passing moment made it difficult. She was getting flustered, clearly struggling to concentrate, and it only made him tease her more.

“You alright over there?” he asked after a particularly long pause, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Need a break? A glass of water, maybe?”

Y/N glared at him, though the effect was softened by the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly. “Just... focusing.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer until their knees nearly touched. “Focusing on what? The rules of the game, or... other things?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering to his before darting away. “Maybe both,” she admitted quietly, her cheeks burning brighter.

It was the admission Lando had been waiting for. Her honesty, her vulnerability, it was all he needed to see that she was just as affected by this as he was. And with that realization, his confidence surged.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice smooth and assured. “Why don’t we make it a little more interesting?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her bravado returning in full force. “Oh? And how do you propose we do that?”

Lando leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “How about... a forfeit? For every round you win, I have to do whatever you say. And for every round I win...” He paused, giving her a moment to process. “You have to do whatever I say.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. She knew this was dangerous territory, but the way Lando’s eyes burned with mischief and intent was impossible to ignore.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, his heart racing as he dealt the next hand. This was it. This was where the real game began.

The cards were shuffled again, the deck slick between their fingers as they settled into another round. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cabin. The storm outside raged on, but inside, it was warm and intimate, the air thick with unspoken promises.

Lando leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “Your move,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. There was a spark in his gaze that made her stomach flutter—a mix of challenge and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N met his stare, her lips curling into a small smile. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, the stakes higher than ever before. Every movement, every word, seemed to carry more meaning than it should. She shifted slightly, her legs brushing against his under the makeshift poker table, and Lando’s breath hitched just barely.

She played her cards carefully, her mind working overtime to anticipate his moves. But even as she focused on the game, she couldn’t ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. His knee grazed hers again, deliberately this time, and she shivered despite herself.

“Bold play,” Lando murmured as he laid down his hand, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “But I think I’ve got you beat.”

Y/N glanced at his cards, her heart sinking slightly as she realized he was right. She bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment, but Lando was already leaning forward, his expression teasing yet somehow serious.

“Looks like you owe me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. She knew whatever he had in mind wouldn’t be simple, and part of her reveled in the idea of giving him control.

Lando paused for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. “Take off your bra,” he said simply, his tone light but his eyes burning with intent.

Y/N froze for a second, her breath catching in her throat. The request was direct, unexpected, and yet… not entirely unwelcome. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a confidence she wasn’t sure she truly felt.

“That all?” she teased, her voice cool despite the way her pulse quickened.

Lando chuckled, low and deep, the sound sending a thrill through her. “For now,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. He was enjoying this, she realized—enjoying the way she fought to maintain her composure, the way she challenged him even as she gave in.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer, then reached behind her back. The clasp of her bra came undone easily, and she slid the straps down her arms, letting the fabric pool at her waist. She kept her posture relaxed, her shoulders straight, refusing to let him see how much his attention affected her.

Lando’s gaze dropped to her chest, his expression softening for a moment before he forced himself to meet her eyes again. “Gorgeous,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Y/N replied, her tone light as she tried to keep things playful. But there was an edge to her words, a hint of something raw and unspoken that made Lando’s breath hitch.

They sat like that for a moment, the tension between them palpable, the room feeling smaller with each passing second. Then Lando spoke again, his voice low and rough. “Another round?”

Y/N nodded, her heart racing as she picked up the cards. This time, there was no mistaking the electricity between them, no pretending that this was just a game. It was something more, something dangerous and thrilling, and she was all in.

The next few rounds passed in a blur. They teased each other mercilessly, their banter sharpening with every hand. But there was an underlying current of desire now, an awareness of how close they were, how little separated them except for the thin layer of her underwear and the rules they’d set.

Lando won again, his grin widening as he laid down his cards. “Looks like I get to collect my prize,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N’s breath caught as she realized what that meant. “And what exactly is your prize?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her lower belly.

Lando leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged with meaning. Y/N felt her heartbeat accelerate, her skin tingling in response to his proximity. She should have said no, should have put a stop to this before it went any further. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Not with him. Not when he looked at her like that, with such fierce intensity it stole her breath.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said finally, her voice trembling just slightly. She was playing with fire, she knew that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Lando’s grin widened, and he slid his hand along her thigh, his touch warm and insistent. “I want to make you come,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “with my tongue.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her entire body flooding with heat at his words. She could feel the flush spreading across her chest, her nipples tightening in response to his nearness. She wanted to say yes, wanted to give in to the hunger that had been building inside her since the moment they’d first kissed. But part of her hesitated, afraid of what it meant, afraid of how far this would go.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, fleeting kiss. “Never been more sure of anything,” he murmured against her lips.

Then, without waiting for her reply, he stood and pulled her to her feet. In one swift motion, he guided her backward until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, her legs dangling over the side. He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs, his gaze locked on hers.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Lando’s hands slid up her thighs, his touch warm and deliberate. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down at him. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “But if you don’t…”

If I don’t? Her mind raced, torn between the sudden rush of desire and the lingering caution that held her back. But then she met his gaze—those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see straight through her. There was no hesitation there, no doubt. Just pure, unfiltered need, and it was contagious.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, and then he was moving, his hands sliding beneath her thighs as he gently urged them apart. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as he knelt lower, his face now level with her aching core. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that made him look both dangerous and irresistible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration as his fingers grazed the edge of her underwear. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her at his words. His honesty was intoxicating, and it made her want to surrender completely. “Show me,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “Show me how much you want this.”

His answer was immediate. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them aside, exposing her to the cool air again. Y/N gasped, her body tensing as his breath ghosted over her sensitive skin. Then, without warning, his mouth was on her, his tongue darting out to taste her.

“Oh!” The sound escaped her before she could stop it, a mix of surprise and pleasure that left her head spinning. Lando chuckled softly against her, the vibration sending another wave of sensation rippling through her. He teased her with his tongue, flicking and circling in lazy patterns that had her gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“Lando…” she moaned, her hips twitching as she tried to push herself closer to him. But he wasn’t done teasing her yet. His hands gripped her thighs tighter, holding her steady as he explored every inch of her with his mouth. His tongue delved deeper, curling and pressing in ways that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

Her breath came in short, jagged bursts, each one louder than the last. The fire crackled behind her, its warmth spreading through her body along with the overwhelming sensations Lando was stirring within her. He’s so good at this, she thought dimly, her mind fogging over with pleasure. So in control.

But just when she thought she might actually pass out from the intensity of it all, Lando changed his pace. Instead of the slow, deliberate movements that had been driving her wild, he began to move faster, his tongue darting in and out of her in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. His teeth grazed lightly against her clit as he sucked, creating a new kind of friction that had her arching her back and crying out his name.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, her words incoherent as her orgasm built and built inside her. Lando didn’t let up, not for a second. If anything, he intensified his efforts, his fingers brushing against her folds as his mouth worked furiously. The dual stimulation was too much—too perfect—and within moments, she was shattered.

“LAN-DO!” Her scream filled the cabin as her hips bucked against his face, her entire body trembling with the force of her release. It felt like everything inside her was exploding, over and over, until she was nothing but a quivering mess. Lando rode out her climax with ease, his mouth never leaving her as he licked and kissed until every last bit of tension had drained from her body.

When she finally collapsed back onto the couch, her chest heaving and her legs still shaking, Lando pulled away slowly, his lips wet and his expression smug. “Better than winning at poker?” he asked with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Y/N glared at him, though her smile gave her away. “Don’t get cocky,” she panted, batting his hand away playfully.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing and towering over her. “Round one was just the beginning.”

Before she could respond, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto his lap, positioning her so that she was straddling him. His erection pressed firmly against her core, already demanding attention, and Y/N couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he nipped at her earlobe.

Y/N’s response was instant. She ground her hips against him, relishing the way his breath hitched and his grip tightened on her waist. “Show me,” she whispered, her voice laced with challenge. “Show me what else you’ve got.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand on her back and the other guiding himself, he lined his length up with her entrance. Y/N braced herself, her heart racing as she felt the blunt pressure of his tip against her slick folds. Then, with a deep groan, he pushed forward, filling her in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” she gasped, throwing her head back as the fullness hit her all at once. It was overwhelming—his size, his strength, the way he claimed her so utterly. She’d never felt anything like it, and the realization only heightened her arousal.

“You feel so good,” Lando growled, his voice rough with need as he pulled back and thrust into her again. “God, Y/N, you’re so tight.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he set a steady rhythm. Each stroke was deliberate, hitting all the right spots and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins. The firelight flickered across their entwined bodies, casting a golden glow that made everything seem even more intimate.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking as she shifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Please, Lando. Harder.”

He didn’t hesitate. With a growl of approval, he grabbed her hips and drove into her with renewed vigor. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet cabin, mixing with their ragged breaths and the occasional moan that slipped past her lips. Y/N clung to him, her body writhing as she surrendered to the sensation.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cried out, her voice rising with each thrust. Lando buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he fucked her with relentless determination. He was everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his cock—and it was too much. Too perfect.

“I’m going to come again,” she warned, her voice trembling as her orgasm began to build once more. “Lando, I’m—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a raw, primal demand. “Let go, Y/N. Let me feel you come around me.”

Those words were her undoing. With a cry that echoed through the cabin, she threw her head back and shattered around him. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around his cock as her orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless and trembling.

Lando’s thrusts slowed as he watched her fall apart in his arms, his own release nearing. He buried his face in her neck, whispering sweet, frantic promises as he continued to move inside her. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, he came undone.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained as he spilled deep inside her. His whole body shuddered as he emptied himself into her, the sensation of being so intimately connected to her overwhelming.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies locked together as they caught their breath. Y/N pressed her forehead against his, her heart still racing as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

Lando and Y/N remained intertwined, their bodies still twitching with the aftershocks of their shared climax. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a warm amber glow over them as they clung to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between their lips.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their heartbeats slowing to a steady rhythm and the occasional pop of a log in the fireplace. The storm outside seemed distant now, its fury muted by the cocoon of warmth and intimacy they’d created within the cabin.

Y/N shifted slightly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across Lando’s back. Her skin was still flushed, her body languid with satisfaction, but her mind was racing. She couldn’t believe how deeply she had let herself go—how completely she had surrendered to him. And yet, it felt right. It felt inevitable.

What is this? she wondered, her thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions. What are we doing?

Lando pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes searching hers. His expression was soft, almost reverent, as if he were trying to drink in every detail of her face. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “You okay?”

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. Just... catching my breath.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Same here.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer before Y/N broke the silence again. “You’re really bad at poker, you know that?” she teased, her tone light despite the heat still simmering between them.

Lando grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that playful way of his. “I thought I was pretty good at bluffing. Guess not.”

“You weren’t bluffing when you said you’d do anything to win, though,” she said, her voice dropping slightly as she remembered the intensity of his actions.

His grin faded, replaced by something far more serious. “No,” he admitted quietly. “I wasn’t.”

The air between them shifted, the playful tension giving way to something heavier. Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing as his words sank in. He wasn’t just talking about the game. He was talking about her.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He shifted closer, his hand brushing her cheek with a tenderness that made her pulse quicken. His thumb traced her skin, his touch warm despite the chill lingering in the air. “You’re worth more than winning a game, Y/N. You’re worth everything.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her ribs. She wanted to say something—to tell him how much his words meant to her—but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a brief moment as his warmth enveloped her. For months, she’d ignored the flickers of possibility between them, convincing herself it was all in her head. But now, there was no hiding from it.

When she opened her eyes again, she found him watching her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. “Lando,” she started, her voice trembling slightly.

But he cut her off with a kiss, soft and lingering, as if he were savoring the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as they breathed each other in.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmured, his forehead resting lightly against hers. His lips curved into a soft smile, the teasing edge of his usual grin still there, but gentler now. “Just… let it happen.”

And for once, she did. She closed the distance between them, leaning into the warmth of his touch and the quiet certainty in his eyes. When their lips met, it was soft, tentative, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

The fire crackled in the background, but all she could feel was him—his warmth, his presence, and the promise held in the quiet stillness of the cabin.

Lando shifted again, rolling onto his back but keeping her close. Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, pulling her even tighter against him. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear was oddly comforting, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

“So,” she said after a while, breaking the silence with a tone that was equal parts playful and curious. “What happens now?”

Lando chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, lifting her head to look at him, “we can’t exactly keep playing strip poker. Not without clothes, anyway.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying her teasing. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of games.”

Her eyebrow arched in question. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“How about truth or dare?” he suggested, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Seriously? You want to play truth or dare? After all that?”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin widening. “It’s a classic. And who knows? Maybe we’ll learn something new about each other.”

She considered his proposal for a moment, her curiosity piqued. “Alright,” she said finally, sitting up slightly so she could look at him. “Let’s do it. But fair warning—I don’t hold back.”

“Neither do I,” he replied, his tone confident. “Your move.”

She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before deciding. “Truth.”

Lando’s grin turned sly. “Alright... what’s the last thing you Googled?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the simplicity of his question. “Really? That’s your big question?”

“Yep,” he said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Spill.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. I Googled the best places to visit in Switzerland.”

“Huh,” he said, his expression thoughtful. “Planning a solo trip?”

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if there was anywhere else worth checking out while we’re here.”

Lando’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Well, if you’re looking for recommendations, I’m your guy.”

“Good to know,” she said, tilting her head as she studied him. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Her grin widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright... I dare you to kiss me until I forget my own name.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he processed her challenge. Before he could respond, she slid her hand along his jaw, guiding his face toward hers. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slower, deeper than before—a kiss that left no room for doubt about how much she wanted him.

He groaned softly into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist as he deepened the kiss. Every movement, every touch, seemed deliberate, as if he were etching the memory of this moment into his very soul.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him. “Okay,” she said breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think you win this round.”

Lando chuckled, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Careful,” he warned, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good,” she said, her smile turning wicked. “Because I like it hot.”

Before he could respond, she kissed him again, her hands sliding down to his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him. The fire roared behind them, the storm raged outside, but all that mattered was the connection they shared—a connection that was growing stronger with every passing moment.

They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other, the world beyond the cabin fading into obscurity. And as the night wore on, they continued to explore the depths of their desire, pushing boundaries and discovering new ways to bring each other pleasure.

It was a night unlike any other, a night that would stay with them long after the snow had melted and the fire had burned out. A night that marked the beginning of something extraordinary—something that neither of them could have predicted but that felt utterly, undeniably right.

[whore4mattsturniolo]

Fuck my Baby Mama ♡︎ Matt Sturniolo

requested and inspired by the amazing @muwapsturniolo and her FIRE babydaddy!matt fic

Fuck my baby mama was the caption of the photo. The slutty little photo he posted on his close friends story, his arm behind his head, making his white shirt rise up just above his v-line, his plaid boxers barely peeking out over his sweats. He desperately needed a haircut with the way his shaggy brown locs hung over his eyes. His stubble was growing in thick, sending in memories of how scratchy it felt when you’d wake up to his morning kisses. He looked good and he knew it.

Chief Keef’s voice repeated “fuck my baby mama” over and over again, the lyrics making you clench your jaw as you stared at the picture for longer than you’d care to admit.

Fuck his baby mama? The same baby mama that he begged on his hands and knees to take him back? The one who took his kid to all her doctor appointments, picked her up from school every day, bought her whatever she needed when Matt could barely even drop off a box of pull-ups? But it’s fuck his baby mama, right? He could post mirror selfies, him and his brothers in that same gas station every week, and whatever influencer parties he went to. He could always blow up your phone with lewd pictures, begging for you to take care of him like you used to, sending needy audio messages of him moaning your name. But when it was time to talk about that backed child support? It was missed calls, messages left on read, and snaps left on open while his score went up every 20 seconds.

You chewed on your bottom lip, before sending the two words that would get him to your apartment in seconds.

Come over.

It was a miracle he didn’t get a speeding ticket on his way to your place, with it being mere minutes between him reading your message and showing up at your doorstep, dressed in the same white shirt and gray sweats he had in his Instagram story. Matt’s growing bulge pressed against your thigh as the two of you shared a sloppy kiss on your bed, the violet light of the LEDs highlighting his almost porcelain features.

Shifting around, you straddle him, pressing your clothed clit right against his cock, the beads of precum leaking from his tip seeping through his pants. Gently rocking your hips back and forth over the tent, a soft moan left Matt’s lips, his hands moving to grab your ass. He guides your movements, desperate for any friction to ease the throbbing.

“Fuckk...” Matt groans, throwing his head back, giving your perfect access to mark up his neck, leaving a trail of reddish-purple marks down. “Please, ma...just touch me…” He shudders as your lick a stripe from the column of his neck to the back of his ear. He desperately tugs at the waistband of his sweats, but you swat his hand away, continuing your achingly slow movements.

“Quit being ungrateful. You’re lucky I even let you touch me after what you pulled tonight,” you bite back, your hips moving faster against his achy cock. You bite your lip to suppress your own whimpers, his bulge pressing against your clit deliciously. Matt lets out another whine, furrowing his brows as he looks up at you with wide eyes. The eyes he uses whenever he’s not getting his way.

Normally, you’d let him slide, let him get away with whatever he wanted. But not tonight. He had gotten way too comfortable.

“W-What d'you mean?” Matt questions, his hands moving back to your hips. His plump lips form into a pout as he continues playing dumb, knowing how much you hated it. “Didn’t do anything一”

“No? You didn’t do anything?” You push him back into the mattress, his head hitting the wall behind him with a thud as he winces. “You dont remember posting that slutty little picture for me and all your little friends to see?” You coo with faux sympathy. Matt lets out a noise halfway between a scoff and a moan at your words. He shakes his head, bucking his hips up, blinded by his growing need.

“Wasn’t for anybody…Just f’you…Promise一” His words are cut off by a whine as you halt all your movements, feeling his cock twitch under you. “Just wanted you. I missed y’so much,” Matt tries to sweet talk you. He was feeling you out, trying to read the expression on your face. Biting your lip, you pull down his sweatpants, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach.

His tip was bright red, precum leaking out and down his shaft. “Gosh…What am I going to do with you?” You cock your head, your voice dripping with a condescending tone. You wrap your hands around his throbbing member, earning another louder moan from Matt.

“N-nothing?” He breathes out, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Let me off with a warning?” You ignore his pleas, toying with his reddened tip, spreading his precum over the swollen head and staring in awe. Matt shivers, his body twitching at your touch.

You laugh, spreading the sticky fluid up and down his shaft. Another shudder leaves Matt's lips as you drag your hand up and down his dick. "I don't think so," you coo, before aligning yourself just above his length, rubbing him over your already leaking folds.

Matt's hands clench at his sides, veins popping out of his arms. He wants to grab your hips and slam you down onto his cock, but he knows you wouldn't allow that. He only lets out a huff, rolling his eyes while you continue teasing him. "S'just a picture, ma...don't see why you're so upset about it..." He mutters, his cocky tone never diminishing.

After what seemed like hours, you finally sink down onto him, your tight walls clenching around his dick, sucking him in and earning a moan from both of you. He's so thick, each bump and vein sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. His tip barely grazes against your cervix as you rest on his lap. He squeezes his eyes shut, gripping the blanket so tight his knuckles start to turn white. "Oh一Fu一uck…" He stutters out as you roll your hips slowly. "Just like that…" Matt groans. “Don't stop…”

He bucks his hips up into yours, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips, trying to maintain the sliver of control he thought he had. You rip his hands away from you, holding them on either side of his head and leaning forward, your tits dangling in his face as your bounces grow harder and faster

“No, no— Stop it…Let go” Matt whines, his big blue eyes peering into yours as his plump lips form a pout. “Wanna touch you…please mama,” he squirms against the harsh grip on his wrists. His mind starts to go fuzzy at the feeling of your warm walls around him.

"S'fuck me right?" You say sternly, holding back your own moans as you watch him struggle with every movement. Working your hips against him, you feel his cock twitching inside you already. "Fuck your baby mama? Huh?

Matt lets out another needy moan, shaking his head furiously. "N-No! Didn't mean it, mama...Was jus' a song," he continues his babbles. The knot in his tummy only grows with each passing second.

He bucks his hips up into yours again, desperate for his own release. His hair is messily sprawled against the pillow under him as he pants hard. "M'sorry, mama一M'sorry一 Please just lemme一A一Ah!" His words are cut off by a smack against his cheek. His face starts to grow red as he looks up at you with wide eyes, his cock twitching inside you.

"Greedy boy," you tut, resting your hands on his trembling thighs behind you, rolling your hips at a different, achingly slow rhythm. "Already gonna cum before mama? S'not very polite."

Matt shakes his head frantically, still straining against your tight grip. His chest rises and falls in hard pants as his back arches high off the bed. “Ngh一Jus’ feels so good…Wan’ cum so bad一Please?

“Think you deserve it, baby? When you’ve been acting like a needy little slut? Hm?”

He tries to respond, but all that leaves his mouth are cut off moans, blinded by the pleasure coursing through his body. He’s trying to hold back, but the feeling of your warm, velvety walls clenching around his cock makes it so incredibly difficult. Tears brim at his waterline, glossing his blue eyes and adding a deeper flush to his cheeks.

His hands remain on either side of his head, gripping the sheets tight. Another slap lands on his cheek, causing him to yelp. His face grows hot, a red mark where he was hit. “Answer me.”

“N一No一” Matt manages to choke out, his body trembling under you. “I don’t deserve it…” His soft lips form a pout, salty tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, despite his attempts to blink them away. “But...I said I was sorry…I swear I am..."

Your expression softens, watching his pathetic appearance. His rosy cheeks, his tousled hair, his pouty lips. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, sticking the brown strands to his face. The veins in his arms were bulging out from the force of his grip, using all his restraint to hold back for you, his body trembling in desperation.

Matt continued his pleading, his soft voice like music to your ears as you continued riding him, your pace starting to quicken yet again. The coil in your stomach grows tight, feeling each ridge and vein of his cock slide in and out of your sopping pussy. You let out a shuddering moan, “Make me cum baby,” you say. “Make mama feel good and I’ll let you cum okay?”

Matt nods at your words, his hands reaching for your hips yet again as he fuck you hard, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout your bedroom. You both groan in sync at his rough thrusts, his fingers leaving deep indents in your skin. He urgently bucks his hips up, desperate to make you finish. No matter how close he was, he was still focused on helping you reach your high.

“M’so close…c’mon baby, keep going,” you whisper in his ear, nibbling at his earlobe. Matt can barely respond, only managing soft babbles and moans. The low feeling building in the pit of your stomach grows stronger as his cock rams deep inside you over and over, sending stars across your vision. "Doing so good for me..."

“Can一Can’t hold it一” Matt whines, his hips stuttering. “Please—F一Fuck!” He almost sobs.

His needy cries of desperation send you over the edge, your vision going white as your orgasm washes over you, sending you flat on his chest while you ride out your high. The velvety walls of your cunt throb around his dick, coaxing his own release out of him.

“Feels一so good! M'gonna—” He’s cut off by his own orgasm, his movements faltering as he buries himself deep inside you, his tip gently brushing against your cervix. Ribbons of hot, thick cum paint the inside of your pussy as he shudders, his back arching high off the bed. "Cum—M'cum—cumming—

His hips thrust on their own, milking every drop of his seed out of him as his eyes flutter shut, his face buried in your shoulder.

After minutes that felt like hours, the two of you come down from your respective highs, both of you panting hard. Matt looks at you with low, half-lidded eyes, a loopy grin slowly spreading across his face as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“S’not fuck my baby mama…Promise…" he whispers, his voice low and heavy with lust. "I love my baby mama.”

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. You feel his cum dripping out of you and onto the sheets below, the sensation sending a shiver down your back. “I know you do, baby. Just had to make sure.”

[miupow]

soobin and somnophilia!😵‍💫 (CONSENSUAL OFC)

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ‘24 ── 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 + 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎

𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] choi soobin x fem!reader , marriage au , pregnant!reader , parent au , slight sub!soobin , somnophilia , breast play , breeding/impreg kink , cowgirl , unprotected sex , dirty talk , talks of pregnancy and hormones

a/n ⸝⸝ did i make this kinktober request growing pains pt 2? yes. yes i did.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it didn't take very long after having the twins for soobin to get you pregnant agan. now only pregnant with just one baby, you're amazed by how different you feel now than you did during your pregnancy with the twins. you have so much more energy, able to get around better without aching joints and a giant swollen belly getting in the way. however, your newfound energy comes with a great cost— you’re now perpetually horny, pussy dripping wet constantly, desperate for your husband’s cock and cum. the hormones from your pregnancy have turned you into an insatiable cockslut.

you wake up with your cunt throbbing, your delicious wet dream cut short right before the best part. while your husband slept soundly next to you, in your dreams he was fucking you so tenderly, big thick cock hitting the deepest, sweetest spots inside of you. you had been reaching your climax, begging for soobin to breed you full… but your eyes had opened before you could get what you wanted.

you’re so aroused that it’s difficult to think straight, rubbing your thighs together underneath the covers… you’ll never be able to go back to sleep like this. without hesitation, you throw back the blankets and clamber on top of your sleeping husband. you have some embarrassing difficultly straddling soobin’s hips, round belly throwing off your balance, and your heavy weight squirming and shifting on top of him quickly wakes him up.

“b…baby?” soobin croaks, blinking away the sleep from his eyes, his deep voice gravely. “what’re you doing…?”

slowly his drowsy eyes focus , taking in the sight of you dragging your bare wet pussy over the growing tent in his sweatpants. his hips respond immediately, bucking up against your core— you can feel his cock throb through the thin fabric, shaft twitching as all of his blood rushes from his sleepy little head to his crotch.

“oh, fuck bunny… right now? its like three in the morning…”

“please, binnie,” you plead, grinding your hips down desperately. “i need you so bad it hurts. feels so empty…”

you shuffle to tug his sweatpants down his thighs, soobin’s cock slapping up against his belly obscenely; he gasps from the cold air against his heated skin, his bulbous mushroom head leaking pearly precum already. the sight makes your mouth water, dying to taste the saltiness on your tongue, but you can’t let yourself get distracted. you need him in your pussy now.

“we’re gonna wake up the babies,” soobin whimpers as you sink down on his cock, inch by thick throbbing inch filling you up just how you needed. your swollen belly and tits jiggle as you begin to bounce in it, fat breasts falling out of your little nightgown— soobin immediately reaches out to cup them, rubbing and twiddling your puffy nipples, your breathless giggle turning into a low moan.

“i��ll be quiet, i promise,” you whisper back, the wet sounds of sex deafening to you among the silence. “can you be quiet?”

“m-maybe,” soobin bites down hard on his lips to stifle the cute pathetic whines already starting to build at the back of his throat— you heavily doubt that soobin could ever keep quiet, your sweet husband so loud when he feels good… you need this cock like your life depends on it, but you can not have him waking up the twins and ruining everything…

you clasp your hand over soobin’s mouth, watching with glee as his eyes grow wide; the moan he lets out would have been loud enough to wake the neighbors if you hadn’t muffled it for him. “here, i’ll do it for you. just let me use you, okay binnie? you put this baby in me, now you gotta deal with the consequences...”

[thirteenheavens]

Hi can you write a s.coups princess treatment headcannon? Also, your work its AMAZING BRO 🥹🥹🥹

Notes: stop anon you’re so cute thank you so much!!I try my best hehe

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

- Seungcheol loves treating you like a princess. He spoils you with gifts, showers you with compliments, and goes out of his way to make you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

- He's always there to open doors for you, carry your bags, and pull out your chair at restaurants. He wants to take care of you and make your life as easy as possible.

- When you're not feeling well, he'll take time off work to stay home with you and take care of you himself. He'll make you soup, bring you medicine, and hold you close until you feel better.

- Seungcheol loves seeing you dressed up in beautiful dresses and jewelry. He'll accompany you to any event or party, standing by your side with a proud smile on his face.

- He has a soft spot for princess movies and loves watching them with you. During movie nights, he'll hold you close and let you lean on him, offering you snacks and drinks whenever you want them.

- In the bedroom, Seungcheol is a true gentleman. He'll treat you like a queen, making sure your every need is met and your pleasure is always taken care of.

- When you're feeling particularly needy, Seungcheol will give you extra special attention in bed. He'll take his time undressing you, kissing every inch of your body and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

- He'll make love to you slowly and gently, savoring every moment of intimacy. He'll hold you close, whispering words of praise and adoration as he brings you to ecstasy.

- He loves to pamper you with gifts in bed as well. He'll bring you expensive lingerie and toys to use, all while ensuring your pleasure comes first.

- He'll use his hands and mouth to explore every part of your body, worshipping you like the goddess you are. He'll make sure you come at least once before he even thinks about seeking his own release.

- Afterwards, he'll hold you close and tell you how much he loves you, running his fingers through your hair and gently caressing your skin until you both fall asleep.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

Seungcheol positioned himself behind you, his hands gently guiding you onto all fours. He admired the view of your body, the way your curves were accentuated in this position.

"You look so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice filled with desire. "Like a true princess." He ran his hands down your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced the contours of your body, exploring every inch of your skin with reverence.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his lips trailing kisses down your spine. "Just relax and let me take care of you." Seungcheol slowly entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move. He took his time, each thrust deliberate and calculated to hit the right spot.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his breath hot against your ear. "Take me so well." He started to pick up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency. His hands moved from your hips to your breasts, cupping them gently as he continued to thrust into you. As Seungcheol's thrusts became more powerful, he started to play with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers and pinching them gently. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, causing you to gasp and arch your back.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "You like being taken from behind, like a good princess."

[steveseddie]

happily ever after

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: happy ending | rating: t | wc: 1,7k | no cw | tags: pre-relationship, oblivious steve, dungeons & dragons, love confessions

read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know when it happens but at some point, he stops hating Dungeons & Dragons.

He still calls it anything but its actual name to the kids’ faces, and he still bitches and moans about having to drive them to and from their stupid meetings, but he can admit that he kind of likes it, at least to himself.

Definitely not enough to play it. He still believes there’s way too much math involved and he gets a headache just thinking about memorizing an entire character sheet, but he does enjoy it enough to sit and watch the kids and Eddie play.

Eddie is also probably a big part of why Steve started liking it. He has a way of making everything interesting. His voices, the way he insists on randomly jumping on his chair or shooting up to his feet, and the twists and turns he weaves into a story so expertly.

There’s also the fact that Steve is head over heels for him and sitting through one of their games is the perfect excuse to stare at him all he wants.

Realistically, he can’t be at every one of them. He has a job and a tiny shred of reputation to maintain. He can’t be seen dedicating all his free time to a game for nerds.

He can, however, dedicate his Friday night to it when Eddie invites him over for the big finale of their latest campaign.

“It’s going to be great, Stevie, I’m telling you!” Eddie says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “You can’t miss it!”

“I won’t, Eds, I promise,” Steve tells him, trying not to show just how easy it is for Eddie to get him to agree to anything.

The big finale does end up being great. The kids spend the whole time sitting at the edge of their seats and Eddie delivers twist after twist until finally the legendary sword is found, the kingdom is saved and everyone lives happily ever after.

Or maybe not everyone.

There’s something that stays with Steve even after Eddie dramatically announces it’s the end, but he doesn’t get to ask him about it until two days later when they’re hanging out at the trailer.

Steve is sprawled on the bed, leafing through a sports magazine he swiped from Wayne’s stuff and Eddie is pretending to organize his desk. In reality, he’s spent the last twenty minutes playing with a rubber ball he found among his things.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve says just as Eddie throws the ball toward the ceiling. He turns his attention to Steve and forgets about the ball, which bounces against his face.

“Ow! Shit!” He swears, rubbing at his eye. Steve stifles his laughter behind the magazine. “What’s– what’s up, Stevie?”

“Can I ask you a question about Dorks & Dweebs?”

At that, Eddie snaps to attention. His eyes are wide and one of them is a little red from the ball hitting it. “Steve Harrington, did you just say you want to ask me about Dungeons & Dragons?”

“I said Dorks & Dweebs, but yes.”

“I don’t even care that you refuse to call it by the proper name,” Eddie chuckles disbelievingly, then he jumps to his feet and joins Steve on the bed, a big grin on his face. “Holy shit, yes! Of course, ask me anything you want!”

Steve can’t help but chuckle at Eddie’s excitement. The way he rests his chin on his hands and stares expectantly at Steve like this is the most amazing thing to happen to him. It’s very cute. “Okay, you weirdo,” he says, his voice dripping with fondness. “At the end of your last game–”

“Campaign.”

Steve waves him off. “At the end of that, what happened to the singer guy? The bard? Uh, Everard?”

Tilting his head, Eddie asks, “What?”

“You know, the– the guy that helped the kids– uh, the party find the legendary sword. The EMT or whatever.”

Eddie’s mouth twitches amusedly. “The NPC.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well,” he says, scratching his head. “He died.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he got mauled by carrion crawlers, Steve.”

“You got mauled by bats and you lived!” Steve argues. Eddie’s nose scrunches up, most likely at the mention of his near death. “Couldn’t one of the kids have used like, a healing spell or something?”

Eddie taps his lip with his finger, thinking it over. Steve can’t help but follow the movement with his eyes.

“I guess they could but– he’s not important, man, he’s just there to help them find the sword.”

Steve averts his eyes from Eddie’s lips and crosses his arms over his chest. “If he’s not important then it doesn’t matter if he lives, right?”

“Okay, sure,” he snorts. “He can live if you like him so much.”

“Good,” Steve says, nodding. Eddie rolls onto his back, probably assuming the conversation is over but there’s something else Steve has been wondering about. “Does he go back to the princess?”

Eddie’s whole body visibly tenses up. “W–what?”

“Everard is in love with Princess Soliana, right? Does he tell her?”

“No,” Eddie says, his voice sharp.

“Why not?”

Eddie groans, sitting up on the bed so he’s facing away from Steve. “Because that’s not relevant to the campaign!”

“It’s relevant to me,” Steve huffs stubbornly.

“Why?”

Because Steve is a romantic and from the first time Eddie mentioned this NPC or whatever, Steve felt drawn to him for some reason. It might sound stupid, he’s just a character after all, but Steve wants him to be happy. “Because Everard loves her.”

“So?” Eddie snaps, “there are things even love can’t fix.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “In real life, maybe, but in fantasy, man? Anything can happen.”

“That can’t,” he grumbles. He still won’t face Steve, his shoulders hunched over.

“But why?”

“Because!” Eddie snaps, finally turning around. His face is pinched, his lips pursed. “Bards don’t marry princesses, Steve!”

“Says who?”

“Me, and I’m the DM so I make the rules.”

“Which means you can change them, give them a happy ending!”

Eddie drags his hands down his face. “There’s no happy ending for Everard, Steve. He knows that. He’s not the hero who gets the princess, he’s the sorry son of a bitch who almost dies. Even if he lives, he won’t do it. He won’t risk the friend– the kingdom when he knows the princess doesn’t love him back.” He says all of that through gritted teeth, and his voice sounds sad like– like he knows what he’s talking about.

“She’s royalty, Steve. She’s beautiful, she’s brave,” Eddie goes on, his eyes boring into Steve with an intensity that makes him shiver. “And he’s– he’s no one and he’s broken and– and scarred, and–-”

“You,” Steve whispers as the realization hits. “He’s you.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut. He gulps, but he doesn’t deny it. He can’t. Now that Steve knows it’s so obvious. The similar name, Everard’s funny and flirty personality, the way he joins the party later in the campaign, and how he’s mauled by creatures trying to save them.

And if that’s Eddie then–

“The princess is me.”

Eddie lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Finally caught on, didn’t you, Stevie?”

“You– you based those characters off of us?”

“Yeah.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. “But you killed Everard.”

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, well. I took some liberties, I didn’t want to make it too obvious, you know? And I did die for like a couple of minutes, so–”

“But the part about Everard being in love with the princess. Did you take liberties with that?” Steve asks quietly, holding his breath as he waits for Eddie’s answer.

“No,” he says, ducking his head, his hair falling over his face. “That part was accurate.”

The admission makes Steve’s heart try to beat out of his chest. “You– you love me?” He asks with a shaky voice.

“I do,” Eddie says, his big doe eyes finally meeting Steve’s gaze. “But I meant what I said. Everard wouldn’t risk anything, not when I know– when he knows you– the princess doesn’t want him.”

Eddie’s eyes are sad and pleading, like he’s begging Steve not to be mad at him. But Steve is mad. Just not for the reason that Eddie thinks.

“You don’t know that,” he says, frowning.

“I told you–”

“You told me what Everard thinks, now let me tell you what the princess thinks,” Steve says, shutting Eddie up. “She doesn’t think Everard is broken, she thinks he’s strong. He might be scarred, but so is she. And– and he’s beautiful too! Maybe she never thought she could fall in love with a guy– with someone like him but she loves him, Eddie.” He reaches for Eddie’s hand on the bed. It’s shaking. Steve squeezes it. “And I love you.”

Eddie’s jaw goes slack. “Steve–”

“That’s Princess Soliana for you,” Steve tells him, trying to lighten the mood.

It works. A joyful, high-pitched laugh tumbles from Eddie’s lips. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he agrees with a giddy chuckle. “I– did you– do you mean it?”

Another squeeze. “Of course, Eds.”

With his free hand, Eddie grabs a lock of his own hair and tugs it across his face to try and hide the blush creeping onto his cheeks and that just won’t do. Steve uses his hand to tuck the hair back behind Eddie’s ear. “So, now that Everard knows this, what’s he going to do?”

Eddie doesn’t even need to think about it. His eyes instantly dart down to Steve’s mouth. “He’s going to kiss the princess,” he says, his jaw set in determination.

Warmth shoots through Steve’s body, the corners of his mouth curl upwards. “Good,” he says, and then Eddie is pulling him in by his shirt, their lips crashing together in a kiss. Steve’s hand finds its way to the back of Eddie’s neck so he can keep him in place, kissing him back for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes.

“I guess– hmph, I guess Everard did get his happy ending after all,” Eddie mumbles against Steve’s lips after some time. “And so did I.”

Steve’s face splits into a grin. “Nah, Eds, this might be the end for them,” he says, pushing at Eddie’s shoulders until his back hits the bed and he can climb on top of him. “For us, it’s only the beginning.”

[alessandra-14]

A slip of the tongue

Dean Winchester x sister!reader and slightly Sam Winchester x sister!reader

Summmery: After a tough hunt, leaving the three hunters bruised and hurt and Dean angry at his little sister. But when she slips up and calls him "Dad," everything shifts.

Warnings: none really

(It's been requested weeks ago but I just now I managed to get it done)

Being raised by two older brother who don't really know what they're doing, may not be to ideal but for Y/N that's all she could have asked for.

Their dad was rarely ever home, usually away on hunt and blinded by the need to revenge his wife. So Dean and Sam had no other choice than to step in and raise her to be a strong smart woman. And she wouldn't trade that for anything in this world.

Like that one time when Dean tried to get her ready for the day.

“Sam, do you know how to braid hair?” Dean asked, frowning at the tangled mess called a ponytail. She was 5, sitting cross-legged on the motel bed, flipping through an old, dog-eared picture book.

“No, but I’m not the one who promised she’d look like a princess today,” Sam shot back, rolling his eyes. He was fifteen, gangly and awkward but always ready to help.

Then Dean also rolled his eyes and glared at his little brother. "You know you don't have to be so sassy all the time Sammy." He sayed in an obnoxiously annoying tone, to which Sam didn't say anything further.

Dean huffed, trying to mimic the motions he’d seen in some movie Y/N had made them watch. “Hold still, kid. You’re gonna look amazing.”

Or that time when both brothers decided to take her to the fair after she had been begging to go there for days.

The fairground lights twinkled and Y/N was full of energy, practically dragged her brothers toward the entrance.

“Dean! Funnel cake first! No, wait—the merry-go-round!” she shouted, her voice rising above the carnival buzz.

“Slow down!” Dean laughed and quickly tried catching up to her. Sam slightly less enthusiastic, rolled his eyes but followed close behind.

They played games. Dean won her a stuffed lion and they shared a funnel cake, When they reached the ferris wheel, Y/N squeezed into the seat between her brothers, resting her head on Dean’s arm.

“This is the best night ever,” she whispered already sleepy and exhausted after this fun night out.

Dean smiled, pulling her close. “Yeah, kiddo. It is.”

But their lives weren't always fun and peaceful. More often than not it was the complete opposite. John's anger, the constand yelling and fighting between Sam and John, the hunting. Oh especially the hunting.

The two brothers were never a big fan of taking her with them on hunts but John insisted she had to learn, so they hadn't much of a choice than to agree. But after seeing how good she actually is at this they decided to let her tag along even after John was long gone.

The Impala’s rumble was a soothing constant, a reminder of safety despite the chaos that had just unfolded. Sam’s face was taut with worry as he pressed a blood-soaked rag against her arm, the gash beneath stinging like fire. Dean’s jaw was clenched as he drove like a mad man, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

Y/N sat in the backseat, trying not to wince every time the car hit a bump. Blood was soaking through her white shirt, but she knew better than to complain about a piece of clothing at the moment. Even if she really loved that shirt.

The hunt had gone sideways—what a surprise.

Dean and Sam had both sworn to protect their sister at all costs. But lately, she’d been trying to prove she could handle herself, trying to show them she wasn't just the kid tagging along anymore.

It was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn. Ghosts were her bread and butter. Something relatively easy to handle. But this one had been different. Angry. Vengeful. And ridiculously fast. Before anyone could react, it had slashed at her, sending the girl flying into a set of windows.

“Pull over,” Sam said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but firm. “I need to stitch this up before she loses too much blood. We've wasted to much time so far."

Dean didn’t argue, which was how she immediately could tell he was mad. He pulled into the parking lot of a dingy gas station, threw the car into park, and slammed the door shut behind him as he got out.

Sam turned to his sister, pulling out the first-aid kit. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” she said through gritted teeth.

Sam sighed but didn’t push it. His hands were steady as he threaded the needle and got to work, his murmured apologies lost in the sharp sting of every pull. Y/N tried to focus on the familiar sounds of Dean pacing outside the car, his boots crunching on gravel.

When Sam finished, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and got out to check on Dean. The girl was alone for maybe thirty seconds before the driver’s side door opened and Dean slid in loudly. He turned to face her, his green eyes scanning her pale and tear struck face and then her bandaged arm.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“I’m fine,” She muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“Fine?” His voice was sharp, edged with frustration and anger. “You know you could’ve died back there.”

She flinched at his firm tone. “I wasn’t trying to get hurt, Dean.”

“You think that matters?” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be careful. You’re supposed to stay back and let us handle it. We know what we are doing!”

“I know what I am doing too and most importantly I’m not a little kid anymore!!”

“Well, you sure as hell act like one sometimes!”

The words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. Y/N looked down at her lap, blinking back tears. She knew he didn’t mean it—not really. Dean was scared. He always got like this when something happened to her or Sam. But that didn’t make it sting any less.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after an intense silence.

Dean sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. His voice softened. “I just—damn it, I can’t lose you. You get that, right? You and Sam… you’re all I’ve got.”

The tears she’d been holding back spilled over, and before she could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“I know, Dad.”

The silence that followed was definitely awkward.

Her heart sank as soon as she realized what she’d said. “I—I mean, Dean. I didn’t mean. I—”

But he didn’t look angry. His eyes widened for a moment, then softened into something she couldn’t quite place. He reached out, his calloused hand gentle as it gripped her left hand.

“Hey,” he said softly, cutting off her rambling. “It’s okay.”

She looked at him worried and confused, her bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, you did,” he said, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And it’s okay. You’re my kid as much as you’re my sister. Hell you’ve always have been.”

The weight of his words settled over her, warm and reassuring. For the first time since she’d climbed into the Impala, the tightness in her chest loosened even for just a moment.

“Thanks, Dean,” She whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he said gruffly, though his hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled away. “Just… stop scaring the crap outta me, alright?”

She nodded, a small smile breaking through. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” He started the car, the familiar rumble filling the space and waited for Sam to come back in too. “Now, let’s get you patched up for real. And next time, you’re wearing body armor, I don’t care how stupid it looks.”

Sam climbed back in, raising an eyebrow at the sudden shift in mood but wisely deciding not to comment. As the Impala roared back onto the highway, Y/N leaned her head against the window, a strange sense of peace settling over her.

Dean might not have been her dad in the traditional sense, but in every way that mattered, he was. And now, she didn’t have to pretend otherwise.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Tis The Damn Season

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: lando’s certainly feeling the pressure of gift giving this holiday season. he wanted to give you something to show you he truly cares and turns to the grid for help.

♥ wc: 1.1k - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and fluffy fluff fluff !!!

♥ a/n: first day of ficmas with some platonic norstappen <3

Grill the Grid Secret Santa was a video all the fans looked forward to. It was a cute tradition—but everyone always ended up with a bunch of random crap they didn’t know what to do with. But after pulling your name this year, Lando had to make sure the gift was perfect

“I don’t see why you’re taking this so seriously,” Max laughed. “Charles cut out pictures of his own face for me a few years ago.”

“How romantic,” Lando replied, drawing an eye roll from Max. “I just don’t know what to get her.”

Max took a swig of beer, “And you think I do?”

Lando sighed, “I don’t know… I just—I don’t want to get her some random shit object that she’s gonna throw away. I want it to be important.”

“And when I asked you if you were into this girl you said no,” Max smirked.

“Shut up,” Lando said with a playful eye roll.

-

Lando

what the fuck do i actually get y/n for secret santa

Charles

You’re not supposed to tell us who you got :(

Carlos

Get her a jumper

Lando

I’m not getting her a lame ass jumper

Pierre

…i got carlos a jumper one year

Lando

I’m aware

-

Lando sighed and clicked off his phone, the only light source in his room. He switched on his bedside lamp and wandered around his bedroom looking for ideas.

He stepped towards a shelf, a few helmets and tchotchkes on display along with a framed picture of the two of you from your karting days. Sitting beside it was a few broken shards of china.

-2023 Hungarian Grand Prix-

Despite the cheering in the grand stands, you could hear the cracking of your first trophy as clear as day. The beautiful hand painted porcelain hit the ground hard, breaking in three different places after Lando popped the champagne.

It wasn't his fault of course. Accidents happen all the time. It was still a shame though. The first woman to win an F1 Grand Prix and her trophy breaks?

"This is misogyny, actually," your PR manager Morgan said, eliciting a laugh from you and a few drivers.

"I'm so sorry Y/n, I had no idea that would happen," Lando apologized profusely, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

"No, no, don't be sorry. It's okay," you promised.

"Congratulations, seriously. You had an amazing drive," Max praised you while wiping the sweat off the back of his neck.

You adjusted your cap, pulling your ponytail through the space between the clasp and fabric.

"'Thank you," you say breathlessly, gulping down a cold bottle of water.

"Alright, post race interviews for everyone and I'll find out about your new trophy Y/n," Morgan said, setting the broken pieces of porcelain on a table.

Your head spun with ideas what was going to happen to the broken ceramic. Whatever you had in mind never came close to what actually did happen with it.

Lando thought, "Maybe I could try finding the rest of the pieces and rebuild it?"

Absolutely not. Give her own fucking trophy to her as a gift? How lame.

He played with the jewelry on his veiny hands anxiously, caring way too much about the impression his future gift would give you.

Within seconds of this he was struck with the most perfect idea. He tucked the pieces of your trophy into his pocket and quickly made it out the front door, ready to begin a perfect Secret Santa.

-

“Alright,” an interviewer handed you a small box that was wrapped with colorful paper and a bow. “We need you to guess who this is from.”

You shook it carefully, noticing some rounded ridges that stuck out. You gently slipped the ribbon off with a single pull, used the tip of your nail to slice through some clear tape, and unwrapped the gift.

From the moment you pulled it out, everyone knew it was a ring box. The black velvet encapsulating it said everything.

“Wow am I getting proposed to on grill the grid?” you joked, stirring a laugh from the filming crew.

You opened the case to reveal a ring front and center. It wasn’t just any kind of ring though. There was gold rimming around the band and the purple-ish pink design that stood out perfectly on the white porcelain.

Along with that was a folded up picture of you and Lando. The one from karting. The same one he had in his bedroom.

Your heart completely melted, remembering the days where you two were so close.

“Well, this is clearly from Lando,” you smiled with a soft laugh, putting a hand over your heart.

“May I see the ring?” the woman interviewing you asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded, handing her over the glossy object.

She squinted to get a good look at the design.

“This looks like the hungary trophies you know,” she said, looking back up to you.

“It does,” a crew member agreed.

You held your hand out for the small object back and inspected it yourself. It couldn't possibly be...?

It was.

You placed the folded picture back into the box and kept the ring in your palm.

“Hang on,” you pulled out your phone and called Lando as the cameras kept rolling.

“Can you come over here? We’re by Ferrari hospitality.”

Within minutes Lando made his way to you alongside Max.

“Is this from my trophy in Hungary?” you held up the ring with two fingers.

“Yeah,” Lando nodded.

“Did you fucking steal my trophy?” you laughed.

“Only like a few pieces,” he held his hands up in surrender with a playful smile. “There were some on the floor that I stashed in my pocket to figure out what to do with later. Maybe ask an FIA person but we all know I didn't get around to that. What do you know? They were in my pockets at the end of the day and i just kept them on a shelf.”

“Well good thing you did,” you looked at the ring and slipped it on your finger. You walked over to him slowly and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“It was one of the most, if not the most important moment in F1 history,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “I want you to always have a piece of that podium with you.”

You pulled away and wiped a tear from your eye with a laugh. With the memory of that day, the ring, and the picture of you and Lando as kids, all the emotions were starting to flood back.

“Fuck you for making me cry,” you laughed, using the sleeve on your sweater to wipe your face. You softly kissed his cheek and squeezed Lando’s hand before they cut the clip.

You’ll never live down that video. It’s mentioned probably a thousand times a day by fans alone shipping the two of you. But eventually, that first ring Lando ever gave you will sit on your finger right next to the wedding band he proposed to you with.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

[traveler-at-heart]

You're ok

Summary: As you recover from a life threatening mission, Natasha struggles to be vulnerable.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Edit: The last part is a scene from The Diplomat's season 2. Highly recommend the show, as it also has our lovely Ali Ahn ( AKA Alice Wu)

Death is part of the job. You had always been prepared for it.

Failure and a slow recovery were things that you were less inclined to accept.

It was hard to deal with the fact you had been ambushed, and almost killed by a bomb in what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Two weeks after being confined to the sterile hospital walls you’re back at the Compound. Bucky offered to help, carrying your things and lending his arm as support.

You certainly didn’t expect the rest of the Avengers on the foyer, excited to greet you.

“Don’t make a fuss” you say, letting them hug you. Wanda rolls her eyes, taking your bag.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive. We’re gonna make a fuss”

“Just for today, let us make a big deal out of this” Steve says.

You had seen all of your teammates when they visited at the hospital, with one notable exception.

Said exception walks through the door, the hint of a smile on her beautiful face as your eyes meet green ones.

“Welcome back” Natasha says, her tone gentle.

“Thank you”

“Romanoff might like you, she almost smiled” Tony says, but you don’t pay him attention.

“That’s just because I thought you weren’t here” Natasha walks past him, squeezing your good arm as a silent goodbye. How you wish you could follow after her, ask why she didn’t even stop by once, but she’s hurrying out the room in record time, as if she can sense your intentions.

Truthfully, you won’t act on them. Natasha doesn’t owe you anything, not even a get well card.

“Let’s get you settled in your new room” Tony becons, and you frown.

“New room? What happened to the old one?”

“This one has some improvements. You’re gonna love it”

It’s evident he still feels guilty over what happened, though it was definitely not his fault that you almost got killed.

The new room has a mini fridge, a giant tv, a king size bed, and a small couch. It also has a huge bathtub, as well as an incredible view of the forest behind the Compound.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… I’m perfectly fine going back to my old room”

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Sam intervenes, looking around the space.

“Come on, you’re gonna be using crutches for a while. You need a bigger space. And entertainment”

“It’s true” Steve says. “Of course we all want to be optimistic but…”

The doctors had said it would take at least six weeks to get you walking without aid. And then, you’d have to train and get back in shape. You are looking at two or three months of recovery.

It’s not that you dislike the bigger space or amenities. It’s the fact that Natasha was closer to you in the other room, and so you’d meet her most mornings as you’d step out to hit the gym or make breakfast.

Now, not only is she emotionally distant, she’s also physically away. And you don’t know which is worse.

“I’ll give it a try” you promise, though you know nothing will be better than your old room.

—

There are unexpected challenges that come with your injuries. Like cooking breakfast. Wanda is more than happy to help most days, but she’s been out for a mission the past week. You could have stuck to cereal, except Steve is always around by the time you wake up, and he insists on making your breakfast.

It’s a nice gesture, though the food is horrible.

You’ve spent the better part of your morning  playing with your eggs, considering eating cereal again, when someone places a cup of coffee and a paper bag next to you.

“I don’t know who told Steve he could cook” Natasha says with a smile.

“He means well” you answer, and wait for her to nod towards the bag to inspect its contents. Grilled cheese and a scone. Your mouth waters at the smell.

“You’re amazing, Natasha, honestly” you say between bites, moaning at the taste. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good. Except Wanda’s food, of course”

“Enjoy” she says, taking away the plate with eggs for you.

You were hoping to have her company while you eat, but maybe that’s too much to hope for.

—

At last, there’s something you can do. While everyone is busy with missions, you focus on reports and intelligence, which is perfect, because all you have to do is sit and read.

There are still deadlines and though no one wants to put pressure on you, you make sure nothing is delayed. As you keep reading in one of the conference rooms, the door is pushed open and you look up, alarmed at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes?” you say, pushing your glasses up, staring at Natasha. She turns around, struggling to speak.

“Y-you should be resting”

“I’m doing Bucky’s reports. You know how he is, he can’t type anything in the computer”

“It’s close to midnight. Have you even had dinner yet? I’m sure he won’t mind if you do them later”

“Nat. It’s fine, honestly” you say, smiling at her awkwardness. “I like to feel useful”

She nods, looking around the room, as if weighting her options. Moving away from the door, she walks and sits next to you, checking out some of the paperwork you’re reviewing

“Someone should have really taught James how to type” she mutters when she gets to the part where Bucky wrote target pulled out a cock instead of Glock.

You snort out a laugh, because it’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world.

“Ten bucks if you leave it like that” she insists and you shake your head.

“I considered it but then Tony wouldn’t know when to stop the teasing”

“Fair” she tilts her head, still smiling at you.

It’s obvious now that Natasha’s staying to make sure you go back to rest soon. So you enjoy the silence that comes with her presence, thinking this might be a step in the right direction.

But then, you stretch your arms above your head, forgetting about the stitches in your side until you feel a pull.

“Fuck” you bend over in pain, and Natasha is by your side in an instant. “It’s ok. I just stretched too hard. Forgot I still have a hole on my side”

Natasha’s hands hold on to the edge of the table, as if she’s struggling between storming out and staying.

“You should get some rest now” she manages to say, eyes not meeting your own.

“I’m fine”

Natasha gets ready to argue, but then reconsiders and just nods.

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight”

The redhead leaves the room in a hurry, and you wonder what could have possibly made her so upset.

For the next few days, you don’t see Natasha at all, and a part of you is certain she’s avoiding you.

As you lay in bed, watching a movie with Wanda, you keep going back to your interaction. Did you say something offensive? Was she simply too repulsed by weakness and didn’t know how to deal with it?

Is she avoiding me? Am I overthinking?

“She is and you are” Wanda says, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“But why… now wait a minute” you click your tongue, looking at your friend.

“I didn’t mean to, your thoughts are so loud. And so are Natasha’s. When you came back she was having a screaming match inside her head”

“What do you mean? What was she thinking?”

“No, that’s where I draw the line. If you want to know, ask her”

“If I ever see her again, sure” you mutter, though you know you lack the confidence to confront Natasha. Even if you had the chance, what’s there to say? "Hey, why are you making sure we only see each other when strictly necessary?"

She doesn’t like you, that’s the only explanation. Natasha is just being polite to keep appearances and the screaming inside her head was probably her thinking how much she wished you were still at the hospital.

Wanda snorts next to you, making you glare.

“Outta my head”

“Hey, I’m trying to watch the movie. You’re the one that needs to keep it quiet up there”

A few days later and you still have no idea how to approach Natasha. Mind you, she’s only been around the kitchen to get coffee once or twice, spending the rest of her time in missions or at the gym across the Compound.

The only time you’re not thinking about her is when the physical pain is distracting you. Like now, while changing your bandages. The doctors told you to get someone to help, but you already get help with food, laundry, even changing your god damn sheets. You’ll be damned if you ask for help with this.

“Fuckfuckfuck” you clearly did something wrong because the dressing is stuck around the edges. You pull again, but the pain is too much, so you plop down in bed. There’s a knock at the door, and you groan, which will hopefully make whoever’s on the other side go away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Natasha says, rushing to your side.

“Can’t change my bandages” you say, not caring if your incompetence upsets her.

“Can I look?”

You nod, sitting up so she can see for herself the mess you’re in. Her hands are surprisingly soft and tender, and you’re almost dozing off while Natasha works silently.

Except when there’s a tug and you jump back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’ll be just one painful pull, ok?” the woman says, one of her hands going to your cheek. Your eyes meet and the way she’s looking at you almost makes the pain go away.

“Ok” you nod. Natasha takes it off in a swift movement, and all you can do is take a sharp breath as your skin stings. “Fuck me” you say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it that much with the state you’re in” she jokes, which makes you smile.

“You know what I mean”

“Just teasing”

“You’re certainly good”

Natasha keeps working in silence, and you worry you may have crossed a line. When she’s done, she picks up the trash and goes to throw it away.

“Ask for help next time”

“I need help for everything. I wanted to at least do something on my own without being a burden”

“You’re not a burden” she says, her back to you as she washes her hands on the sink.

Something comes over you, and when Natasha walks by your side to exit the room, your hand shoots up to hold her wrist.

“Y/N?”

“I… I missed you. I know we’re colleagues and all I do is share whatever meal I’m having, or train with you from time to time. I know I can’t really do any of those things right now. I’m inconsequential, I know, to your life and to whatever you do. But I do miss you, Natasha. And I wish I didn’t care so much”

It feels like her skin is burning under your fingers, so you let go, ashamed at your little outburst. You’re expecting her to leave without another word but instead, she kneels to meet your eyes.

“You’re the opposite of inconsequential. But I don’t know how to care without being vulnerable”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Caring is vulnerability” you say softly. “But it’s also a strenght. It means you’re not alone”

Natasha smiles, a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. She’s about to say something else when FRIDAY calls for her at the conference room.

At this hour, it only means one thing. She stands up, looking apologetic.

“Be careful” is all you can say as she leaves the room.

—

A party is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Not only are you still wearing a cane (an improvement from the crutches) but Natasha has been gone for several days to complete a mission only a handful of people know about.

It makes you anxious, to think she might be in danger, though she is the most capable agent in the entire world.

“So glad you made it” Tony says when you finally show up. It took some convincing on Wanda’s part, but you agreed once you found an outfit that didn’t require you to wear heels.

The Avengers are at their own couch, talking and laughing. Bucky has apointed himself as your personal waiter, bringing snacks and drinks.

“Any word on Nat?” Stark asks, which distracts you from the conversation with Sam.

“Said she was still stuck at the debriefing” Steve shrugs his shoulders. It’s no surprise, if she can avoid these parties, Natasha will.

At least she’s home and safe. That brings you some peace of mind, and you’re able to enjoy the rest of the party.

Tony announces the fireworks are about to start, and you relunctantly stand next to the huge crowd assembled at the front yard of the Compound.

The first burts of color is followed by a couple of cheers.

But it’s different for you.

The booming sound, the lights, it all sets you on edge.

You’ve been around explosions before, and this had never happened. Frozen in place, you try to close your eyes and control your breathing as the noises increase your anxiety.

How you wish you could run back to your room right now, but it’s nearly impossible to walk between everyone.

“It’s ok” a voice says, and there’s the warmth of another body next to yours. “You’re ok”

“Nat” you sigh with relief, closing your eyes. Another firework explodes and you jump.

“Look at me” she says, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing motion. You nod, turning your body so she can wrap both arms around your waist. “Breathe with me”

You follow her lead, in and out, until your heartbeat is steady again.

“You’re ok” she says, this time more of a reminder to herself. “And I’m here”

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, letting her decide if she wants to take that final step. Natasha smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as her lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

“I missed you too” she says when you break apart.

“I’m not going anywhere”

[spacequokka]

GOT7 Turn Ons & Kinks

I’m so GOT7 coded rn. Here I go again interpreting birth charts for my own silly pleasure. Take it with a pinch of salt, ahgases. The way this sat in my drafts for over a year yet only took about an hour to finish. I refused to change the pics for the next comeback so here ya go.

Mark || Venus: Leo, Mars: Libra || Turn On: Praise (Receiving)

He’s twinning with Yeosang in that he just wants to hear he’s making you feel good. Like seriously, let him know when he’s hitting the right spot or tell him no one else is as good as he is. Might also dish it right back because he has that kinda vibe. Can be broody if he feels like you’re not matching his level of intensity as far as the relationship goes, which can be cured with some praise and appreciation.

Jaebeom || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Cockwarming

They say stability and trustworthiness are sexy, and Jay B took that personally. He wants to impress you with his endless cool and mature vibes, so when you’re tired of boys, he can be your man. He’s a romantic, so you can expect loads of sweet, traditional gestures. Okay, but what about the Jay B who sang Switch It Up? Read the lyrics. He told us what he likes. So bold. Somewhat traditional, with a bit of spice here and there. After seeing him read mild tame thirst tweets, I truly believe he’d hesitate to try kinky things like choking or spanking, like he just wants to be inside you and hold you close. The promise of the intimacy alone is enough to have him dragging you to bed.

Jackson || Venus: Aries, Mars: Pisces || Kink: Daddy 

If you know me even a little bit you knew this was coming. My GAWD the amount of love and care that seeps from this man’s pores is fucking amazing. He lives to care for and spoil you like no other, wanting to make sure you have everything you could ever need or want. And that translates to his bedroom. Help? This freaky ball of energy is gonna wear you tf out. He legit doesn’t give a fuck how many times you’ve cum, he needs more. Will strive to leave you hoarse from calling him daddy just because he loves to hear you say it. I could write a fucking essay on this istg.

Jinyoung || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Bondage

Another hill I’ll die on. A king in the streets and a control freak in the sheets. Just the thought of tying you down to his bed is enough to get him going. Loves to tease and torture you until you’re begging to be let go or fucked hard. Wanna be a brat? Face down and ass up with your arms secured behind your back. Being inside you is just a bonus at that point. Go ahead and struggle, it’s cute to him. You’ll be crying with relief when he finally gets inside you.

Youngjae || Venus: Leo, Mars: Leo || Turn On: Collaring (Receiving)

“Mars in Leo natives enjoy sex more than most”--say less. So Jae’s freaky af and I will hear none of this pure cinnamon roll slander. Honestly he’s probably as bad as Jay B. So what does this bub like? A collar. Hear me out. Collaring is one of the freakiest things you can do to someone while also showing them how much you care/love them. He just wants to be yours--mind, body, and soul. In return, you get his unconditional love and unwavering loyalty. He doesn’t mind you taking the lead in bed because he trusts you and your judgment. You touching/pulling on his collar makes all the blood in his body rush down south and it doesn’t take long for him to start begging you to ride him.

BamBam || Venus: Taurus, Mars: Virgo || Turn On: Nipple Play (Giving)

After deeming him a boobie lover, I can’t help but see him as a motor boatin’ son of a bitch. Lives to put his face near your chest and play with it. In bed you can bet he’ll be kissing and biting on your nips until you beg him to stop. Once you start that up, he’s eager to get inside of you just to continue doing it so he can feel you squeeze the life outta his dick.

Yugyeom || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Thigh Riding

Lemme be Captain Obvious for a few seconds. You belong on his thigh. He knows it. You know it. So why aren’t you on it? While he loves any form of teasing you, watching you get all worked up to the point of ruining his pants is an experience he can’t live without. It’s lowkey fascinating that it feels that good for you and he barely has to do anything other than force you to keep moving once you reach that peak. His favorite part is watching your cute little face scrunch up as you shiver in his arms. Then he’ll tease you about it while pulling your legs around his waist and unzipping his pants...

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny! May I request a s'more,honey cruller and banana bread with a side of juice and earl grey for Franco Colapinto? Thanks love 🥰

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? hit up the menu! there's tons of things to order! i write for a variety of fandoms! so please check out all the details, i'd love to hear from you! this is my second franco fic, the first one went over well, so i wanted to write more haha! i hope it's amazing and thank you @reddingtxn !!

s'more: "the accent gets to you, doesn't it?" + honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes." + banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." + juice: cockwarming + earl grey: big cock served by franco colapinto (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, teasing (clit play), big cock!franco, dirty talk,

you wished franco gave you the heads up when you first got intimate. while you had been with other guys before, franco was your first serious relationship so you wanted it to work. but how was it supposed to work when you saw his cock for the first time.

eight inches was something you could visualize

he ran his fingers through your hair and smiled at you, he had already perfected the kind of smile that would make anyone swoon, "i forget how small you are sometimes." and that started your training towards getting more familiar with franco's size.

you swallowed as you sat there in his bedroom a few days later. you both had the time off because he had to go for racing and you were back at school. his goal was to get you used to the feeling of his cock before he left. and that wouldn't be achieved through a quick fuck, it had to be slow.

"such a beautiful girl." he said as he approached you in just his briefs. they were dark blue with white at the waistband. he crawled into bed with you and his dazzling eyes gleamed at you, "i know, i know. i promise it's not as scary as you think. you did so good the first time, taking me in your throat like that." his words curled in your mind. you hated that in a way he had such an effect on you.

"franco." you arched your back a little as he laid himself on top of you. his kisses were scattered across your chest and you moaned a little louder. his hands wandered your sides and you felt hot all over, a flush of heat through your body with anticipation for what was to come.

"the accent gets to you, doesn't it?" he laughed even as you pushed his face away in protest. but he kept those arms around you lovingly for a moment longer. he then sat himself up against the headboard of the bed and got his briefs off, "now, come on, beautiful. i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." his words made you shudder in the best way possible.

you pulled of your panties and bra before you got over to him. you swallowed when you got close enough to his cock. you took a moment to lean over and kiss his length which made him shudder. that felt good. he grabbed you by your hips and got you straddling his waist. you were facing the television at the far end of the room and away from him.

"i thought we were fucking?" you asked.

he kissed the back of your neck, "no, no. not in that way, i want you to get comfortable with my size before i leave. so you're going to cock warm me while we watch a movie tonight." he smiled before he sank you on his impressive size and watched you arch your back a little from the feeling.

it was a bit of a pain, but franco's kisses softened the feeling as you got yourself seated on him. you could feel it so deep inside of you. you could feel him in an intense way as he lazily wrapped an arm around you.

you relaxed a little while he looked around you to choose a movie to put on. you rested against him, only to tense up with his hand started to play with your clit. you moaned a little.

"shh, shh." he said, "i want to watch the movie. keep quiet, okay?" and felt you squirm a little against him which only excited him more. his cock twitched inside of you as you moved your hips a little. he held onto one of your hips while he continued to tease your clit.

"franco. honey." you swallowed, feeling the heat bloom in your cheeks. everything felt a little hotter all of a sudden, a rush of pleasure through your body as your boyfriend of the past little while played with your clit with a skilled precision. it made your heart hammer a little, the flush of heat through your core. of course franco knew exactly how to make you crumble.

"shhh, movie's starting." he said as he relaxed further against the headboard and wrapped one arm around your middle while his other hand played with your achy cunt. when you made too much noise, he simply shushed you. him doing that only emboldened the heat between your legs.

the stretch wasn't painful when he rocked his hips a little against you. he felt you close to him and it felt like a certain euphoria. you moaned a little bit and he leaned in a little further against you.

"franco." you swallowed quietly.

"mmm, beautiful. don't make me gag you, your panties are right there." he mused for a moment. the movie played in the background but, you ended up turned around and facing your lover. your cheek against his chest as his cock remained in you.

he kissed the top of your head and tried to play with your clit some more, but you were too close to him to get his hand back between your legs. so both arms were soon around you as he moved his hips a little bit. it was hard to deny the feeling, even with minimal movement. he was feeling the heat between you two.

"i can't take it anymore." he groaned as he rocked his hips against you gently. the pleasure was flooded in your brain that it didn't take long before you both came. first you, then him. it left you breathless with his heavy breathing against your back. the movie long forgotten.

you honestly didn't even know what he put on, but the pleasure clotting your brain was more important. you kissed him gently and he groaned into the kiss. eventually you just laid against him once more. letting the pleasure wash over both of you.

"do you think it'll fit easier now?" you asked.

he shifted a little and said, "not too sure, we might have to do it again." there was heat in his words and it made you excited to become more familiar with your boyfriend's large cock.

[peachhcs]

plz write a cute celebrini x fem reader 🙏🙏 ur writing is beyond amazing

oooh i've never written specifically for mack before so hopefully this isn't bad 😅

after mack’s face injury, his gf is quick to look after him once the game is done

masterlist

she waited impatiently near the doors of the locker room awaiting her boyfriend's arrival. y/n's mind couldn't stop replaying the horror on her features and everyone else's when they saw the blood trickle down macklin's face after a nasty high stick hit. she knew he was okay because he was right back on the ice once the bleeding stopped, but the image wouldn't shake the girl's brain.

lingering after the game felt so long this time around and y/n wondered if it was just because she was anxious about seeing her boyfriend and properly checking up on him. she swiped through twitter and instagram continuously while video replays of the rookie's hit filled her feeds. she just shut her phone off all together for now, not being able to watch the play anymore.

finally, the players began trickling out. y/n's head popped up, searching for the eyes of macklin in the crowd. she spotted him with will near the middle of the pack and he immediately found her gaze. will sensed that they probably wanted to talk, so he split off from the boy once they got closer, giving a small nod to y/n as he passed.

"hey," macklin began, but was caught off guard when y/n jumped into his arms.

"let me see it," she grabbed ahold of his chin, turning his face to the side to examine the new scar.

"it's really not that bad now. they cleared it up really good," the brunette tried reassuring his girlfriend knowing she probably had a hundred thoughts running through her.

"you scared the shit out of me when i saw all that blood. it looked a lot worse," y/n stepped back, arms crossing over her chest.

macklin frowned at the sudden distance between them, "i'm sorry, baby. i promise i'm fine. see?" he gave his best grin hoping to further prove how he was doing.

"well, if i see wilson, i'm gonna punch him myself," y/n huffed, looking around like she would catch the older player lingering somewhere.

macklin laughed, tugging y/n into his side and kissing the side of her head, "you're so cute when you're upset. i promise i'm fine though. i mean you saw me play afterwards."

"yeah you fucking power played. i guess that was your redemption," the two exchanged a laugh and macklin enjoyed finally pulling a smile from her.

"can i come back to your place tonight?" the boy wondered as they moved themselves closer to the exit.

"i thought that was a given already," y/n chuckled.

macklin went to tell will they were leaving before rushing out of the SAP center so he wouldn't have to do any press. most days he didn't mind, but tonight the boy was itching to get out of there and spend some much needed time with his girl. they hadn't seen each other since last weekend—school and hockey keeping them way too busy.

"just so you know, i am gonna baby you the whole night," y/n informed once they were securely in her car.

"mm, i can't wait. a face mask is just calling my name," the hockey player leaned back in the passenger seat, hand falling to the girl's lap as she pulled out of the parking lot.

luckily, there was no early morning practice tomorrow, so macklin was gonna use that to his full advantage and spend the night in y/n's dorm. the couple rode in comfortable silence into santa clara university, a convenient 7 minutes away from the arena so y/n never missed a home game.

she parked her car again and the couple hurried into her building. the few students wandering around the lobby caught sight of macklin's suit he put back on, a few of them recognizing him from as a sharks player and as y/n's boyfriend because he was over so much.

they lucked out with y/n's roommate hanging out with her own boyfriend tonight, so they had the whole dorm to themselves. macklin immediately thew his backpack onto the ground and shoved his suit jacket from his shoulders.

"gonna shower. i didn't really before we left. you're welcome to join me if you want," the brunette winked at the girl who flushed.

"wow, so classy of you. i did already shower this morning, so i'll have to pass this time," y/n laughed.

"damn, i thought you'd say yes. you sure you don't wanna shower again?" he winked again. y/n groaned, pushing her boyfriend to the bathroom.

"i'll be out here with your face mask."

the rookie accepted his lonely shower fate and disappeared into the bathroom. y/n took the opportunity to tidy up the room and get all the things she needed for their face masks.

20 minutes later, macklin came back out of the bathroom freshly showered and in more comfortable clothes. y/n hung up his suit jacket on the door of her closet, instructing him to do the same with the rest of the outfit so it wouldn't wrinkle.

the boy climbed into her bed a second later, positioning himself against her pillows, "i'm readyy," he sang.

"i've never known you to be so excited for a face mask," y/n grinned.

"it really makes my skin smooth, so i like it," the boy explained.

y/n handed mack her headband so his hair wouldn't be in his face or in the mask. he didn't hesitate to slip it over his head and expose his forehead. the girl giggled at the sight.

"are you laughing at my big forehead?" the boy raised his eyebrow, hands finding places on y/n's hips as she straddled his waist.

"maybe," she hummed, leaning forward to begin rubbing the cream on his skin.

mack admired her focused expression while just really taking the time to take in every part of her as she applied the mask. this was his favorite part of face masks because he could stare at her without shame and she hardly noticed because she was too focused on the mask.

"have i told you how beautiful you are?" the brunette wondered softly. he watched the way y/n's cheeks heated up into a deep blush.

"you have," she muttered.

"well, i'm gonna say it again. you're really beautiful," mack grinned.

"you're sappy tonight," y/n flushed.

"what? can i not say how beautiful my girlfriend is?"

"no, you can. thank you," she finished spreading the mask, leaning back to admire her work.

"how's it look?"

"great. i'lll let you know when five minutes are up," the girl set a timer on her phone and then mack grabbed the mask cream from her hands before she could set it back on the dresser.

she looked at her boyfriend quizzically.

"can i do yours?" he wondered with a soft expression.

y/n blushed again, "just don't get it in my hair."

"promise, i won't," macklin agreed and y/n let him have at it.

his touch was gentle as his fingers began rubbing around her skin. his lip poked out from his lips as he focused on doing it right. y/n loved how much he wanted to do it correctly for her sake and his expression really was just to die for.

"okay, did it," macklin leaned back to admire his work the same way y/n did. she loved the proud little smile on his lips, pulling her camera up to examine how well he did.

"wow, looks great, mack. your best one yet," y/n agreed.

"what can i say? practice makes perfect," the boy hummed, placing everything back onto her dresser.

"so how's your lip doing now?" y/n wondered as mack's hands wandered across the expanse of her hips and waist.

"i can't even feel it anymore, so good. i told you i'm fine," he eyed her.

"i know, just let me be a worry wart."

the sharks player smiled at her words knowing how much she liked to worry about things, especially the things that didn't need to be worried about. he reached up to quickly peck her lips, tryng to avoid getting face mask on one another.

"i love you," the brunette said.

y/n's smile grew, the whole i love you still new to them but heartwarming to hear, "i love you, too," she kissed him again and now they didn't care about getting face mask on one another.

[bsturnzmtts]

Drunk temptations - Matt Sturniolo

Re-upload!

Paring: bsf!Matt x drunk! Reader

Contains/warinings: reader is a virgin, dry humping, no p in v, mentions of alcohol and loss of virginity, maybe more stuff...

Summary: You and your best friend Matt are going to a party. You get extremely drunk, and despite your bratty resistance, Matt insists on taking you home. Somehow, you end up on your best friend's lap, kissing him and confessing that you want to lose your virginity to him...

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You and Matt have been best friends for many years now. You’re also friends with his brothers Nick and Chris. Tonight you guys are going to a party. Matt went to pick you up.

Knocks on the door

You quickly went downstairs to open the door with your hair and makeup ready but still in your pijamas.

Laughing, he raises an eyebrow at my pajamas “You’re not ready yet?”

“Sorryyyyy, I just need to get changed and we can go” you explain.

He chuckles. “Alright, but make it quick.”

“Okay okay, come in, I promise.” You say laughing a bit as you two go upstairs to your room. You get in the bathroom and Matt sits down on your bed waiting for you.

He leans back on the bed, looking quite at home in your room as he waits. His eyes roam around, taking in the posters on the walls and the messy piles of clothes scattered about.

You quickly change onto a black mini skirt, a red tight and a little revealing top, some jewelry and a ton of perfume. You take one last glance in the mirror and exit the bathroom. “I’m ready!”

He looks up from where he was lounging on your bed, a slow smile spreading across his face “Whoa, you look amazing tonight.”

You smile at his compliment. “Thank youuu! It’s a new outfit, I bought it today.”

"Oh yeah? I can tell. It looks really good on you." He stands up and walks over, taking a closer look at the outfit. "Hey, is that a new perfume too?" He asks, leaning in to sniff at my neck.

You feel something fluttering in your stomach as he leans in, his hot breath hitting your neck. “What?… oh yeah it’s a new perfume.” You feel your face growing hot and you’re also feeling nervous. But you quickly throw those feelings away, reminding yourself that he’s your best friend.

He pulls back and flashes a grin at your flushed face, noting your reaction yet deciding not to comment on it. Instead, he gestures towards the door. “Shall we, m’lady?” He teases, offering you his arm like a gentleman.

You laugh at his tone and actions. “Always a gentleman, right?” You tease and take his arm.

"Only for you, my lady," Matt replies with a playful smirk. He leads you out of the room and down the hallway, his hand gently patting at yours on his arm.

You laugh and roll your eyes jokingly as you nudge him with your shoulder.

He chuckles and nudges you back, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. As you guys head down the hallway, Matt can't help but steal glances at you, admiring the way the dim lighting highlights your features and makes the colors of your outfit pop. As you step out into the night air, the cool breeze rustling your hair, Matt can't help but appreciate the way the city lights reflect off the curves of your body. He opens the car door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

“Ooohhh, opening the door and everything.” You say teasingly.

He chuckles and gives a mock bow, "Anything for my queen," he says with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he waits for you to get in the car.

You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Ohh shut upppp.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he closes the car door. As he walks around to the driver's side, he can't help but grin at your teasing.

As we drive to the party, the music is playing softly in the background, and Matt can't help but tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. He glances over at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. "So, are you ready to party tonight?"

“Oh I'm definitely ready to get drunk.” You say with a chuckle.

He laughs and shakes his head, "Well, let's make sure you don't do anything too crazy, yeah? I don't want to have to carry you home over my shoulder."

“I won't, don't worry. I just want to have a little fun.” You say.

"Alright, alright, I trust you," he says, still grinning as he pulls up to the party venue. "We’re here."

As you guys walk into the party, you can feel the energy and excitement in the air. The music is loud, and people are dancing and mingling all around. You guys go to say hi to Matt’s brothers Nick and Chris.

After a while you see some of your friends. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friends.” You tell Matt.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll catch up with you later." He says as he watches you walk away, his gaze following you until you disappear into the crowd.

You approach your friends and greet them. Then you all decide to get drinks and dance.

While you're busy having fun, Matt is talking with his brothers and some of their old friends catching up. He occasionally glances over at you, letting out a small chuckle as he sees you dancing and having fun.

As the night goes by you keep ordering more and more drinks, getting yourself drunk.

Matt notices you stumbling around and laughing loudly, and his expression turns from amusement to concern. He excuses himself from his conversation and starts making his way towards you. "I think that's enough drinks for you." he says, as he approaches you.

“Maaatt! Hiii I've missed youuu.” You say slurring your words as you hug him.

He chuckles and hugs you back, holding you steady as you sway slightly. "I've missed you too," he says, his voice low and gentle. "I think you've had a few too many drinks," He says with a chuckle, trying to keep you steady on your feet. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Whaaat? Whyyy? I'm having fun.” You whine.

He sighs and wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you towards the exit. "You're slurring your words, stumbling around, and you're not making any sense," he says firmly but gently.

“Noooo I want to stayyy.” You pout.

He gently but firmly continues guiding you towards the exit, his grip steady on your waist. "I know you're having fun, but it's getting late and you're too drunk to handle yourself."

“You’re so boringgg.” You slur out.

He laughs softly and unlocks his car door for you. "I'm not boring, I'm just responsible," he says, helping you into the passenger seat.

“Yeah yeah, same thing.” You say.

He gets in the driver's side and starts the car, keeping a watchful eye on you as he drives. "You know, you're going to regret this hangover in the morning," he says with a smirk, but his tone is soft with concern.

“I had sooo much funnn” you start laughing.

He chuckles and gives you a knowing look. "I can tell," he says.

He pulls into your driveway and turns off the engine, turning to face you with a gentle smile. "We're here," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Time to get you inside and into bed."

“Noooo I don’t wanna go to bed.” You whine.

He laughs softly and shakes his head. "Come on, you'll thank me when you're not suffering with a hangover tomorrow," he says as he carefully gets out of the car and walks around to your side, opening your door and offering his hand to help you out.

He sighs and helps you out of the car anyway, wrapping his arm around your waist to support you as you stumble a bit on the driveway. "Let's get you inside and settled, okay?" he says, leading you towards your front door with a gentle but firm grip.

“Fineeee” you slur out as you roll your eyes.

He chuckles and shakes his head, helping you up the steps and to the front door. "You're going to be a lot of fun to deal with in the morning," he says with a teasing tone, digging out your keys from your purse and unlocking the door. He opens the door and ushers you inside, switching on the light and helping you stumble into the living room. "Sit down," he says, guiding you onto the couch. "I'll get you some water."

He disappears into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water. "Drink up," he says, waiting for you to take a few sips before setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. He then plops down beside you on the couch, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern.

“Thank youu” you say as you lean back.

He smiles and leans back with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. "No problem," he says.

You start laughing a little bit remembering things that happened at the party. “I had so much fun tonight, best party ever.” You say, still slurring your words.

He chuckles and pulls you closer, his arm tightening around your shoulders. "Glad you had a good time," he says, his voice low and gentle.

You turn to look at him and realize how close your faces are.

He grins then, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the room. "Yeah, it was a good party," he says, his voice dropping even lower, almost to a whisper. His eyes flick down to your lips before darting back up to your eyes. He swallows thickly and the room suddenly becomes much quieter and more intimate.

You don’t know if it's the alcohol taking over your mind but you want to kiss him really bad. You know it isn’t right because you’re drunk and you guys are best friends, but you can’t stop thinking about it. ‘Fuck it’ your mind says, you lean in and kiss him.

His eyes widen in surprise for a split second, but he doesn't pull back, instead, his lips move against yours, soft and gentle at first, but then deepening into a more passionate kiss. His arm around your shoulders tightens, pulling you closer to him as he angles his head to fit your lips together perfectly.

You keep kissing him, your mouth opening just a nudge letting his tongue in. He responds eagerly to the invitation, his tongue slipping into your mouth tasting the alcohol in your system and tangling with yours in a sinfully good way.

As you get more into the kiss you start to kiss more sloppily and drunkenly. You’re body now controlled by the alcohol and lust moves to sit on his lap straddling him.

He groans into the kiss as you shift to straddle him, his hands immediately moving to grip your hips to steady you. The feel of your heat pressing against him, even through the layers of clothing, sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin. He breaks the kiss long enough to breathe. "God, you're killing me," he mutters, his voice low and husky, his eyes burning with intensity. "Fuck, we shouldn't be doing this," he says, his voice rough with need, even as his hands continue to hold you tight against him.

“Why?” You ask.

Matt's eyes search yours, a mix of conflict and longing evident in their dark depths. "Because this isn't right, not like this," he says, his breath coming in short gasps as he fights to maintain control. "You're drunk off your ass, and I shouldn't take advantage of that." He hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours before he admits, "And we're best friends, and this could change everything between us." His grip on you tightens as if he's trying to hold onto the friendship despite the heat building between you two.

“But I want to.” You say kissing him again and ignoring his words.

He groans into the kiss, his resolve crumbling under your persistence and the intoxicating effect of your body pressed so intimately against his. "Fuck, you're making this hard," he pulls back. “We can’t do this.”

“Please.” You whine as you start to kiss his neck.

His hands grip your hips, his breath hitching as you trail kisses along his neck. "Fuck," he swears, his grip tightening as he resists the temptation you present. "You're killing me, Y/n."

“Please Matt, I- I want you to be my first.” You whisper.

His whole body stiffens at your words, his hands gripping you harder for a moment before releasing you, he looks at you with eyes full of surprise and a mix of emotions. "Shit, y/n," he mutters. His hands move to cup your face, making you look at him.

“Please Matt, take my virginity away. I'm ready.” You look at him with doe eyes filled with lust and a little red from the alcohol.

"No, y/n, you're drunk and I don't want to take advantage of that," he says, his voice strained. He looks at you with a mix of desire and guilt, his hands still cupping your face gently. "We've been friends for so long, and this could change everything.

“You’re the person I trust the most, I want it to be you.”

"God, y/n, you're killing me. I want this, I want you so bad, but I can't just take your virginity while you're in this state," he says, his voice rough with need. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

You ignore his words and start kissing him again.

He hesitates for a moment, then relents, his hands moving from your face to your hips as he deepens the kiss. But after a few moments, he pulls back again, trying to break the kiss. "Y/n, we can't do this."

“mmh please Matt” you whimper and kiss him again.

He groans, his resolve weakening as he feels you pressing against him. "Y/n, no," he says, but his voice is weaker this time, and it's clear that he's struggling to resist.

You continue kissing him but this time your hips start to grind against him. “Mmh” you moan.

He hisses through clenched teeth, his hips bucking up to meet your grinding motions. "Fuck, y/n, stop," he growls, but his words lack conviction. His hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you harder against him as he rocks his own hips up in response to yours.

“Mmh Matt feels so good” you whimper against his lips.

He lets out a tortured groan, his body trembling with restraint as he tries to hold back. "Y/n, please...I don't want to hurt you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

“Matt I need you” you let out as you keep kissing and grinding him. Your hands move to remove your top, revealing your lace black bra.

His eyes widen at the sight of your bra, and he swears under his breath as he tries to fight his growing arousal. "Y/n, we can't," he repeats, his voice hoarse with desire.

You start kissing his neck again.

He groans, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck as his hands move up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. "Fuck... You're killing me,"

You grab his hands and lead them to your back where the clip for your bra is.

“Stop this," he says firmly, though there's a strained edge to his voice. His hands remain frozen on your back, the clip of your bra still untouched. "Y/n, no. We can't. You're too drunk, I won't take your virginity like this." He pushes his hands away from the clasp of her bra, his own breathing heavy and ragged as he struggles to maintain his composure. “This has already gone too far.”

"No buts, y/n. We can't do this right now. It's not right." He says firmly, still holding onto his composure even as his body is begging for release from the arousal coursing through him. "I care about you too much to take advantage of you in this state.” He takes a deep breath and stands up, pulling away from you completely.

"Y/n, let's... let's get you to bed," he says, his voice calm but strained. He offers you a hand to help you up, his eyes never leaving yours as if gauging your reaction.

You don't say anything, just take his hand and follow him to your room.

He watches out for you as you move to your room, ensuring you don't stumble and hurt yourself in your inebriated state. Once inside, he guides you to the bed, sitting you down gently on the edge.

He gives you a big t -shirt big enough to cover up your knees. So you put it on and take your skirt off and sit on the bed again. He kneels down in front of you, pulling off your heels and placing them beside the bed.

"There, that's better, right?" He says, looking up at you with concern etched into his features. He really cares about you, more than he wants to admit. He gently pushes you back onto the bed, helping you lay down, making sure you're covered up before he stands back up.

“Good night” you slur out and quickly doze off.

He watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face as he sees the exhaustion and alcohol finally catch up to you. He nods to himself, satisfied that you're safe and comfortable, before turning to leave the room. He quietly closes your bedroom door behind him, the soft click echoing in the silence of the house. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm the storm of emotions and desire that still rages within him. He knows he did the right thing, protecting you from a mistake you wouldn't remember.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Part 2 tomorrow!!

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[c4tluver02]

missed rehearsal

Warnings: itty bitty angst but happy ending ! ballerina!reader

wc: 1.5k

Summary: Steve misses your rehearsal spending time with Nancy. What can he do to make it up to you?

a/n: I know nothing about ballet so sorry if anything is wrong !!

This was the second time Steve has missed your rehearsal. You were selected to play one of the bigger roles in the production and you had asked Steve to meet you at the studio to watch you. Having someone to support you when all you've done is correct your every move for the past two weeks sounded amazing. But to go through a whole rehearsal without it immediately puts you in a bad mood. It’s unlike Steve to miss something that's this important to you, especially because the ballet was next week. Once the session is over you put sweatpants and a thin sweater over your leotard and take your shoes off. 

You're sweating, your teacher told the whole class how you messed up, and you can feel that the numbing cream you put on your feet before class has completely disappeared. Oh and your boyfriend missed your rehearsal. The thought of calling Steve to tell him about your day felt like the next step but you didn't want to call when you were just grumpy and mad. Instead you head home to shower hoping that would make you feel better. 

Once you're out of the shower you hear the phone ring. You have a feeling it’s Steve and somehow the anger from earlier hasn't worn off. Yet you decide to answer wondering if he has a good reason to have missed it.

“Hello?” 

“Hey baby! I just got back home. I was wondering if you wanted to come over?” Steve asks and you can tell that he's smiling as he says it. A part of your heart warms at this and yet your blood just can't help but boil. 

“Wait, you weren't home? Where have you been?” You ask, forgetting the rest of his question.

“Nanc needed my help with something, her and Jonathan have been fighting. She just needed a friend y’know?” He responds in a calm state. 

If you were in a cartoon, smoke would be blowing out of your ears. He blows you off to help his ex-girlfriend? It takes everything out of you to not just hang up on him right then and there. 

“I can't come over Steve. I am in so much pain from today's rehearsals.” You say, your tone coming out with no emotion. You are hoping the word itself gives him a moment to realize what has happened. 

“Oh… I’m sorry, lovely.” When you hear him say it you automatically picture a frown on his face. It's very Steve to take someone else's pain and feel it just as much himself. However, the grudge you're holding felt a little more strong than this.  “Can I come over if that's better? Maybe I can give you a massage or something?” 

A sigh comes out of you. He really has no clue. It felt wrong to be mad at someone who has no clue they've done something wrong. “Steve, you missed my rehearsal today. You promised you'd be there and you weren't.” You finally spill. This didn't feel like a conversation to be having over the phone but it felt so vibrant to you that you couldn't keep it in. 

“Oh fuck.” The information hits Steve in seconds. The sadness in your voice coming out with it immediately breaks his heart. “Baby I'm so sorry I completely forgot.”  The first time Steve missed it was because he forgot to ask for the shift off of work. But this time it was him forgetting to just go and spend time with Nancy. 

“I really just want to go to bed Steve. Today has been the worst day and I'm tired.” You say rubbing your eyes and looking at the clock. It’s only 7:30 but the idea of laying in bed with a book sounded a million times better than sitting here in an awful mood. 

“I really am sorry. I don't know how I forgot it. I even wrote it on my calendar so this wouldn't happen.” Steve's guilt is palpable. At the end of the day you know he didn't miss your rehearsal to be malicious but he still missed it. Something that's been on your mind everyday isn't even in his once. 

“I know Steve. I'll call you tomorrow, I just need to go lay down.” The feeling of today is starting to crumble in on you. The stress you have been putting on not only your mental health but your body for this performance is a lot. Your face feels hot and your vision is getting blurry. 

Steve hears your voice wobble as you say it, ending the sentence with a sniffle. He feels horrible that your day was so bad. He feels even worse when he's the one that made you cry. But if you don't want to talk to him right now, what can he do? 

“Okay sweet girl I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” The way he says it sounds so soft as if your previous words hadn't been said with such venom and malice. 

You hang up the phone to go curl up in your bed. Allowing yourself to break down and truly let everything you've been feeling out. The guilt of making him feel bad starting to eat at you. The whole situation is bad and you just wish it hadn't happened in the first place. 

–

The next morning you are woken up by the doorbell and a loud knock on your door. Your eyes are sore from all the crying you did last night and the pain in your legs and feet is coming back to you. You slowly make your way downstairs, each step makes you wake up a bit more. Once you finally reach the door and open it you see Steve holding a bouquet of red roses. 

Steve looks up at you and it's like his heart only breaks and breaks. Your eyes are swollen and red. It confirms how bad you had cried last night. Despite that all you still look beautiful and Steve hopes you accept his apology. 

“Steve, what are you doing here?” You ask, rubbing your tired eyes.

“I came to apologize for yesterday. You have every right to be upset, I looked after Nancy instead of you and I'm so sorry baby.” Steve hopes he can come with you to rehearsal today, despite forgetting it yesterday he did really want to see you. You look amazing in your element, like you were born to be a ballerina.

“I know Stevie, I just really needed you yesterday. I didn't even know you and Nancy were friends.” Your arms are crossed and you have a pout on your face but you must forgive him a little bit, you called him Stevie. Or maybe you aren't fully awake yet. 

“We really aren't but I dunno she just called and told me about it and I felt bad. I think our group is all she has and out of everyone I'm the next best option besides Jonathan.” You can tell he's really trying and he understands why you're upset.

You take the flowers from his hands and open your door more to let him inside. “Thank you for the flowers.” You say smelling them. 

As you close the door Steve responds “Of course baby, anything for you. You want me to get a vase?” He asks knowing they are high up. 

“Yes please.” Your voice is meek. All this energy you built up by being upset slowly makes you feel silly for being so hard headed in the first place. 

Once Steve gets the vase he puts it on the countertop. The glass makes a noise once it hits the tile. You set your flowers down as well before asking Steve–

“Can I have a hug?” Your head is tilted and your arms are up. Steve shares a warm smile at you. You look precious right now and he is so happy you're feeling better. 

He wraps his arms around you and gives you a big hug. His cologne takes over your senses as you melt into him. Once you both let go Steve gives a small kiss on each of your swollen eyes, and finally one on your lips. 

You kiss him back with your hands cupping his face. “Let me put the flowers in the vase but then do you wanna lay in bed? I don't have to leave for rehearsal for another hour.” 

“Yes please!” Steve says giving your waist a squeeze. “Could I go to practice with you today?” 

“Stevie if you don’t want to go you really don't have to.” You say, the insecurity still within you.

“No, no, no.” It comes out like it's one word. “I really do wanna go, please?” 

A smile comes on your face, “Yeah you can come.” You give him a quick peck. “But we have a while so let's go cuddle.” You grab his hand and you both walk upstairs. 

Steve gets into your bed and pulls you with him. A giggle comes out at the motion. He gives your hand he's holding a kiss before letting you lay your head on his arm. 

A comfortable silence falls between you. “I really am sorry though.” Steve starts.

“It's okay Stevie I know.” You give him one more kiss before asking him how Nancy is doing. Steve can't believe he got so lucky with you.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader in their new house

Drew threw himself onto the mattress with a grunt, causing Reader to giggle before joining him. They had just finished moving in the last pieces of furniture to their new house.

Their house resided in a quiet town about half an hour outside of Charleston. A beautiful home adorned with rustic brick and numerous windows that flooded every room with rays of sunlight. Reader remembered the way her heart swelled the very first time they had visited the house and looked at the ivy covered walls and beautiful, spacious backyard. Despite spending multiple nights on a mattress on the floor within the house, the feeling of awe still hit her whenever she looked at the home and imagined how the two of them would fill it with their friends and family.

“I’m amazed with how you managed to not punch a hole in the wall while assembling that nightstand.” Reader said, running her hair through Drew’s buzzed hair, which caused him to roll his eyes.

“Me too. We were almost going to just have to have one.” Drew said with a huff, propping himself up on his elbow and turning to look at Reader. She mirrored him, propping herself up with a grin.

“I can’t believe this.” Reader whispered. Drew reached out, taking one of her hands in his own and gently running his thumb along her knuckles. The metal of his rings pressed into her skin, the cool sensation a familiar and soothing one.

“Me either.” Drew whispered back, his eyes scanning over Reader’s face. The skylights bathed the room in a warm light, giving Reader an ethereal glow. As they continued to sit in the bed, Reader could see flashes of the future: the mornings spent together in the kitchen, Charleston running around the backyard, the spare bedroom filled with a crib…

Without even realizing, she could feel herself begin to cry.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Drew asked, causing Reader to wipe the stray tears from her cheeks.

“I’m just— I’m just so happy, Drew.” Reader laughed, tears continuing to fall even as she grinned. “To be here with you. To start the rest of our lives together. I think it’s all hitting me now.”

Drew smiled before pulling her into his arms, her face resting against his chest. She snaked her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. She couldn’t help but grin at the same smoky taste she had tasted millions of times before burying her head on his shoulder.

“Me too, baby.” Drew said, running his hands down Reader’s back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. They sat there for a moment, soaking in the sheer perfection of the moment. The warmth of each other's bodies, the lingering scent of the muffins Reader had baked earlier, the music that played softly from the record player, the photos that lined the walls of their bedroom.

Despite the silence, Reader could feel Drew stirring slightly, one of his arms leaving where they rested on her back. His eyes still trained solely on her, a grin plastered on his face. She looked into his eyes, a brow raised, before looking down at the arm that now rested between them. In his hand sat a small, black box.

“I promised your parents that I’d wait until they were in town, but I just can’t wait.” Drew said softly. Reader could feel her eyes fill with tears again as she pushed herself up further to get a better look at Drew and the… glittering, diamond ring that rested inside the box.

“I’ve been holding onto this for a year and a half now because, god—” Drew ran his other hand through his hair, “you are the absolute love of my life and I don’t even want to spend another second not being with you. You’re it for me, and I would be the luckiest man alive if you would have me. So, will you marry me?”

Reader raised a trembling hand to cover her mouth as Drew’s words began to truly click. She had dreamt of this moment, imagined what it would feel like to be married to someone who loved her so deeply… but this was even better than anything she could’ve even imagined.

“Yes, Drew, yes.” Reader said with a sob, lowering her hand from her face. Drew sprung forward, kissing her so strongly she thought she would fall off the bed. She laughed as he pulled away, taking her still trembling hand. He pressed a soft kiss to Reader’s knuckles before gently sliding the ring onto her finger.

She held her hand up, admiring the way the beautiful ring twinkled in the sunlight, before looking back at Drew. He still had a smile plastered to his face, his eyes glassy and transfixed only on Reader.

“Oh, baby.” Reader said, snaking her hands around Drew’s neck and pulling him closer.

“I guess I’m the one crying now, huh?” Drew chuckled, wiping his eyes. Reader grinned, kissing his cheek before resting her head on Drew’s chest.

“I love you so, so much.” Drew said, hugging Reader’s body into his.

“I love you too. More than you can even imagine.”