#PLEASE LET ME GO BACK TO HAPPY FUN GOOD TIMES

[angelremnants]

Stuck With You | S. Wilson

summary : The last thing you wanted was to be trapped in a room with a person you didn't know, much less be forced to team up with them. But thanks to your best friend's meddling, you now find yourself headed for a peculiar blind date, paired with someone who’s anything but a stranger. You swore you’d moved on. He said it was for the best. But maybe you were never meant to let each other go.

pairing : Sam Wilson x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), second chance romance, friends to lovers to kind of enemies to lovers?, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, forced proximity, angry/heated makeout, heavy feels and yearning, fluff and humor, truthfully two idiots in love, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 14.2k

author's notes : To celebrate the rise of our brand new Captain America and Valentine's Day, I wrote this little piece to pour out my appreciation for Sam Wilson who is, imo, an insanely underrated character.

This is also my entry for the wondrous @elixirfromthestars 's Cinema Writing Challenge, which I stumbled upon mid-writing this one-shot and found that I was going in a direction that could've fit this in a fun way. I referenced the "Why didn't you write me?" scene from The Notebook though in a lax manner, so I hope to have still respected the general guidelines.. This is my first time participating in a writing challenge, so please bear with me :')

Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Know that even if you're as alone as I am, your existence is greatly valued in this world. <3

(ao3 version)

⠀

Driving back to Delacroix was nothing short of a pleasant experience—just you, one hand on the wheel and the other idly hanging out the window with fingers slicing through the warm morning air. It was one of the few times you enjoyed driving, which is why you insisted on not having your chauffeur be the one to take you to your destination, preferring the solitude of watching the road stretch ahead like a ribbon of sun-bleached asphalt, flanked by swaying marsh grass and the slow-moving waters of the bayou. The old jazz station buzzing over the speakers only further enhanced the atmosphere, with the crooning trumpet blending effortlessly into the continuous murmur of cicadas in the background.

It was early enough that the mist still clung to the marshes, curling around the gnarled roots of cypress trees like ghostly fingers. The world shimmered gold in the pale dawn light, an untouched moment as the weight of the day settled in. You could also make out in your passing spanish moss draping lazily from the branches, swaying ever so slightly as if still waking from its slumber. 

You had always loved this route. It felt like a portal to another life, one that belonged solely to a place where your name wasn’t headlined in articles, where your every move wasn’t scrutinized by strangers looking for something to pick apart. Here, you weren’t the subject of speculation or the topic of gossip columns. You weren’t “the one from the titles” or “the name in the papers.” You were simply you.

The familiarity of it all only served to bring you back to those late-night drives after absurdly long college lectures, when the stress of exams and deadlines melted away over seafood and pleasant company, the briny scent of the ocean mixing with the fried goodness of whatever had been thrown together for dinner. It reminded you of sunburned afternoons spent on the docks, the sound of waves lapping against the wooden beams, of kids that you used to babysit laughing as they chased each other barefoot across the pier. Life was indeed much nicer in the olden days.

The docks finally came into view as you veered off onto the dirt road. You could see that the morning had already settled into its rhythm—fishermen hauling in their first catches, their voices rising and falling over the water while the low rumble of boat engines punctuated the exchanges in the salty air, mingling with the occasional bark of a stray dog nosing around for scraps. Seagulls routinely circled overhead and swept low whenever someone tossed a handful of bait into the sea. The scent of fresh fish, damp wood, and the ever-present Louisiana humidity all wrapped around you, strong-filled even at this hour.

And there was poor Sarah, up to her elbows in work as always.

She stood near a stubborn crate, her brows drawn together in frustration as she struggled to pry it open. The morning suns of July had already kissed her skin a shade darker and a streak of dirt ran across her forearms, evidence of a morning repeatedly spent wrangling supplies and fixing whatever had inevitably needed mending. She also had that look—the one she always got when something should have been done yesterday.

Pulling up alongside the dock, you stepped out of your fancy car, rolling your shoulders with a slow stretch. The thick and stifling heat settled around you instantly, encasing itself around your skin like a second layer along the faintest promise of an approaching summer storm.

“Didn’t know we were wrestling furniture today,” you called out while your expensive shoes thudded lightly against the weathered planks, the wood creaking ever so slightly beneath your steps.

Sarah huffed, blowing a loose curl from her forehead as the sheen of morning sweat glistened against her sun-warmed skin. “You show up just in time to save the day, as usual.”

You smirked, pushing up your sleeves. “That’s what I do best.”

Together, you pried open the crate with a loud crack, the wood groaning in protest before finally relenting, revealing neatly packed supplies of nets, ropes and a few spare tools, all stacked with military precision. 

“I swear, whoever sealed this thing had a personal vendetta against me,” she muttered, shaking her head.

You leaned against one of the weathered wooden posts, letting the briny breeze roll over you. The dock swayed ever so slightly beneath your weight, creaking in quiet protest. Out beyond the harbor, the bay stretched wide and glittering, rippling with the soft push and pull of the current. For a moment, there was nothing but the steady lull of the water, the occasional cry of seagulls, and the distant clang of metal against wood as fishermen worked their boats. A rare pocket of peace.

At least, that was the case until Sarah spoke.

“Sam’s coming home today.”

The words landed on you like how a stone would sink to the bottom of a river. 

You kept your expression carefully neutral, inhaling through your nose before exhaling slowly. “Fantastic,” you deadpanned, flicking a piece of splintered wood off your palm.

Sarah sighed, already bracing for the reaction she knew was coming. “I know you two don’t—”

“Like each other?” you finished for her. “Get along? Want to exist in the same hemisphere?”

She shot you a flat, unimpressed look. “I was going to say see eye to eye.”

You scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

Sarah crossed her arms, leaning back against the wooden beam beside you. The steady rise and fall of the tide lapped at the pylons below, filling the brief silence between you. “Are you ever going to tell me what really happened between you two?”

You hesitated. The problem wasn’t just Sam. It was everything that had happened because of him.

And worse—the things that had happened before. But how could you explain that to your best friend, who was also his sister, that before the cameras, before all of the unwanted attention, there had been a spark?

Befriending Sarah in college had meant stepping into her world, with frequent afternoons spent at the family’s restaurant but also evenings that bled into weekends. And with this eventually came Sam, who was at the time a cheeky guy too charming for his own good and with a tendency of getting under your skin in the most enjoyable way. The kind that your mama told you not to approach too much if you didn’t want to stray away from a good line of life.

You honestly wouldn’t have paid him much attention if not for the quick-witted banter, a push-and-pull that became something of a ritual every time you would come over. He would saunter into the restaurant under the pretense of bothering his sister, but his eyes would eventually find yours first, the corner of his mouth twitching upward just before he threw out some teasing remarks in hopes of riling you up. You would roll your eyes, fire something back, and somehow, without realizing it, you had begun to orbit each other.

It had slowly bloomed in the way where summer warmth shifts into the first breath of autumn—almost imperceptible until you’re standing in the midst of it. Eye contacts that lingered just a little too long. Making even the most absurd excuses simply to accompany you through your journey of going to college. A growing familiarity that turned into late-night conversations on the dock, where the world was nothing but the hush between you. There had been something easy about it, an understanding that neither of you ever had to say out loud.

And then, one fateful night—

A kiss was added to the list.

You could still precisely recall how it had unfolded. It had been one of those thick Louisianan nights where the land was quiet except for the gentle slosh of the tide against the pylons and the occasional chirp of cicadas hidden somewhere in the dark. You and Sam sat side by side on the wooden planks with your legs dangling over the edge.

He had shown up at the restaurant after closing, claiming he had nowhere better to be. You had scoffed, knowing damn well he could’ve gone to the arcades where he usually hung with his small band of friends, but instead, he’d lingered—elbow on the counter, tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Sarah cleaned up. When she suspiciously shooed the both of you out under the pretense of wanting to finish tidying the place in peace, you both ended up in your favorite spot and falling into conversation with the same ease you always had.

Strangely enough, that night was different.

It was felt in the way your knees brushed when he shifted closer, in the way your laughter had simmered and turned quieter, softer. It was the night where plans for the future were spoken of, and how you learned that Sam would soon leave Delacroix behind to join the Air Force while you were still figuring everything out.

“You ever think about getting out of here?” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet.

You smirked, tilting your head toward him. “What, and give up all the fine dining of your family’s home cooking? I don’t know if I could handle that.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, because there’s nothing more to do than eating fresh seafood and watching the sunset every day.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you’re the one talking about getting out of here, Wilson. What, the dock life not glamorous enough for you?”

His grin was easy, but there was something contemplative beneath it. “I always knew I’d leave. Not ‘cause I don’t love it here, but... I want more. I wanna see what else is out there.”

Your smile faltered, just a little. You weren’t sure why the thought of Sam leaving sat uncomfortably in your chest. "You make it sound like you’re never coming back."

He turned toward you then, one leg kicking idly at the water below. "I’ll come back." His voice got fainter this time, lacking its usual teasing edge. "It’s not like I’d just disappear on you."

You arched a skeptical brow. "Awh, don’t tell me you’re going soft on me. You saying that ‘cause you mean it, or ‘cause you think I’d cry if you didn’t?"

Sam smirked. "Maybe both."

You scoffed, pushing at his arm, but he barely budged. "Please, you’d be the one crying your eyes out first."

"Uh-huh," he vaguely affirmed, unconvinced. "You could write me letters, you know."

"You gonna write back?"

"Every time."

You regained your smile at the answer, and it was when you turned to glance at him that you noticed that he was closer than before. You weren’t sure if he had leaned in or if you had, but your shoulders touched and your knees pressed together. He was close enough that you could see the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed and caught his eyes flickering from yours to your mouth and back again.

You had felt it coming before it happened—the moment slowed, stretched, and his tentative fingers had brushed yours where your hands rested between you on the dock. He was testing out the waters, and neither of you pulled away.

Without a word, he leaned in.

It felt like a kiss engaged between adolescents discovering intimacy for the first time. He was slow in his doing, as if waiting for you to stop him, but you didn’t. You tilted into him instead, your hand resting against his jaw upon the faint scratch of stubble he had grown. His lips were warm and coaxing, stealing the breath from your lungs as he deepened the kiss while his hand curled lightly around your wrist. The world beyond the two of you fell away, drowned out by the rush of your pulse.

It was the kind of kiss that felt like the beginning of a promise. But promises, as you had learned over time, were far too easy to break.

You thought that this kiss was supposed to mean something. Evidently, it didn’t to Sam.

Months passed without a sign, not a single mail in your box or a phone call. Then years came by, and silence continued to reign like a chasm.

The first time Sam Wilson came back to Delacroix after becoming the Falcon, it wasn’t for a homecoming or a celebration—it was for Sarah’s wedding. By then, he was no longer just the annoying little brother, the immature sod who used to throw shrimp shells at you when you weren’t looking. He was an Avenger. A hero. Someone whose face people recognized, whose name carried weight.

And you? You had built a life of your own. A business. A name that had nothing to do with anyone else but yourself. 

He had changed but so had you, and whatever had been between you had withered away a bittersweet memory, more sour than sugary.

The wedding had come and gone in a whirlwind of music and laughter, of his sister glowing in a way you had never seen before, of toasts and dancing under strings of warm lights. You had somehow ended up outside, trading the muffled sounds of celebration drifting through the open doors of the reception hall for the cold silence of the outside.

You hadn’t planned to talk to him. In fact, you had spent most of the days of his visit avoiding being alone with him, dodging him and whatever it was that lingered between you both like an unfinished chapter. But he still managed to find you anyway, stepping out into the night with that same infuriating ease as if nothing had ever changed.

“Did anybody ever tell you that you scurry away like a mouse?” he jokingly prompted, hands tucked into his pockets. “For someone who’s supposed to be the maid of honor, you disappeared pretty fast.”

You didn’t look at him, instead fixing your gaze on the rippling water. “Didn’t realize I needed a chaperone.”

“Never said you did.”

Stillness settled between you, cut by the cicadas humming in the trees and the warm breeze rolling in from the bay. He was watching you. You could feel it.

“You been good?” he asked eventually, almost hesitant.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Business still going strong?”

Another nod.

Sam exhaled a soft laugh. “Damn. You always this talkative?”

Finally, you turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Well, what do you want me to say, Sam? That it’s good to see you? That I missed you?”

He blinked, caught off guard.

“You know what? I did,” you admitted, your jaw tightening. “I missed you when you left, when you didn’t write, when you didn’t call. But then you show up years later on TV with wings on your back and a whole new life, and I—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “Forget it.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “Listen, I never meant to—”

The sudden burst of camera flashes cut through the dark like lightning. Movements danced from the shadows beyond the dock. Figures. A handful of people, cameras raised, lenses trained on you both.

Your blood ran cold.

The pilot turned, his expression shifting in an instant. He stepped in front of you, partially blocking their view. “Hey! Back the hell up.”

The damage was already done. Your name was already in their mouths, in their cameras, and in their notes. And by morning, the world would be talking.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. Not entirely. The blame didn’t belong to him—not for the cameras, the prying eyes, or the intrusion. But the continuous letdown, the unresolved past, the hollow promises left unanswered—it all boiled over.

Maybe it was the years of unspoken resentment. How he had left and never looked back, only to come home like no time had passed—like you hadn’t once meant something. Or maybe it was the fact that for one fleeting instance, the world thought you belonged to him like you selfishly wanted to back then when he had never even fought to keep you.

The fight was inevitable. Hurtful words, raised voices. Raw anger tangled with accusations you didn’t mean spilling from your mouth before you could stop it, among the ones you did. And to his credit, he gave as good as he got. You weren’t the only one harboring old wounds. You weren’t the only one who felt burned by your shared past.

By the time the shouting stopped, the damage between you was just as permanent as the damage done by the eye-catching headlines. Some words couldn’t be taken back, just as ties, once broken, could never be pieced together the same way again.

The next morning, as you predicted, the internet had been set ablaze with speculation.

The press was relentless, churning through the story like a wildfire swallowing dry earth. The Falcon and his Mystery Woman—Who is She? New Romance or Old Flame? Falcon’s Secret Love Life—Exclusive Details Inside!

It was absurd. Laughable, even. You had snorted at the first few articles, rolling your eyes at the grainy photos that painted a story far more dramatic than the truth. You and Sam barely tolerated each other. If anything, your history was a testament to mutual irritation, not some clandestine love affair.

But the laughter didn’t last because the headlines didn’t fade. Because the story didn’t die.

Because soon enough, it wasn’t just some passing tabloid gossip. It was everywhere.

Paparazzi began to linger outside your workplace, their lenses snapping up every movement as if they could capture something scandalous in the mundane act of you stepping out for coffee. Your inbox flooded with emails—some from reporters fishing for a statement, others from people you hadn’t spoken to in years, suddenly eager to "reconnect." 

Social media became a nightmare all on its own. Strangers dug through your past with eager, prying hands, dissecting old photos, analyzing every public interaction you’d ever had, and spinning theories about a relationship that had never even existed.

The worst part of your predicament was certainly work-related. Every handshake, every business meeting, and every new acquaintance suddenly all came with a question mark. Were they here for you or for the association? Were they interested in your work, in you, or just in the proximity you offered to something greater, to a man whose name counted amongst Earth’s greatest heroes?

And through it all, Sam had remained frustratingly unbothered.

"It’ll pass," he had dismissed with a shrug accompanying his words. "People move on when it comes to these kinds of things."

At most, he made sure you were surrounded by constant security and had some sort of secret service he was apart from watching over you in case malevolent spectators deemed it a good idea to bother you. While you were grateful for the protection, you had wondered if his lack of intervention to correct the situation with both words and actions wasn’t motivated by underlying factors. 

Ultimately, you had been the one left dealing with the aftermath. The one picking up the pieces and untangling the mess, sifting through the wreckage of your privacy. And that was something you could never forgive.

You slowly exhaled, massaging your temple at the exasperating memory. “Let’s just say your brother has had a knack for making my life difficult and I got tired of it.”

Sarah hummed, skeptical but wise enough not to press too hard. “He’s really not as bad as you think.”

You shot her a dry look. “Sarah.”

She held up her hands in surrender, lips twitching. “Alright, alright. I won’t push.”

Before you could say more, the sound of a door swinging open interrupted you. Then came the hurried patter of feet and the excited shout of your name before two small bodies crashed into you, all limbs and boundless energy.

You caught them both with a grin, stumbling slightly under their weight as they clung to you.

“You taking us to school today?” Cass asked, beaming up at you.

You ruffled his curls, feigning deep thought. “I don’t know... you guys gonna behave?”

AJ gasped, scandalized. “We always behave!”

Their mother snorted at the blatant lie while you laughed, nudging AJ’s shoulder. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Sarah shook her head, a familiar mix of amusement and exasperation on her face. “They listen to you better than they listen to me.”

“That’s because I’m the cool auntie. Right, boys?” 

Both of them cheered in agreement, to which she rolled her eyes and shooed you toward your car. “Go before I change my mind about letting you take them.”

You steered her children toward the vehicle, their voices rising in an animated debate over which of them would get to call shotgun and put their playlist to play for the drive. But even as you settled into the driver’s seat, their excited chatter filling the space around you, your mind remained elsewhere.

Sam was coming back.

And whether you liked it or not, you were going to have to deal with him.

⠀

⠀

The restaurant was already alive with the late afternoon rush by the time you strolled in with the boys coming back from school. Orders flew in, plates stacked high and the scent of fried seafood and rich gumbo diffused in the place. The kitchen bustled with movement—Sarah barking orders, cooks shuffling between stations, the sizzle of oil, the clang of metal on metal. Fortunately, you had worked enough shifts here during college to comfortably throw yourself into the chaos and fall into the rhythm with ease, balancing trays and dodging wayward elbows like second nature.

You had expected a busy night.

What you weren’t prepared for—what you could have gone your entire life without dealing with—was walking out of the kitchen, only to come face-to-face with the one person you had been dreading.

The door swung shut behind you, the sudden quiet of the dining area making the moment feel even heavier. Sam Wilson stood near the counter, arms crossed, an easy smirk already in place as if he hadn’t just been gone for years. The sight of his tall, broad and annoyingly self-assured stature made something stubborn coil in your chest. The golden glow of the setting sun slanted through the restaurant’s windows, catching on the sharp lines of his jaw and the slight curl of his lips, settling into the warm brown of his eyes with an infuriating sort of ease.

It had been years. But of course, of course, the first thing he did when he saw you was smirk and look at you the way he always did—like he was expecting a fight.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes flicking over you with the kind of scrutiny that made you itch to throw the nearest dish towel at his head. “They’re really letting just anyone work here now, huh?”

You scoffed, stepping behind the counter. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

“Hey, I actually own part of this place,” he shot back, leaning against the wooden bar. “What’s your excuse?”

“Sarah asked me to help,” you replied smoothly, grabbing a clean set of glasses from the shelf. “What’s yours?”

“Thought I’d check in, be a good brother and say hi,” he sassily answered. “Didn’t realize I’d be graced with your presence too.”

“Lucky you,” you deadpanned with a tight-lipped smile, brushing past him.

And to your luck, he followed you to the back, offering unhelpful commentary while you restocked supplies, then bickered with you while you both helped—or at least attempted to—his sister with the dinner rush. Arguing over everything with the soldier felt like muscle memory at this point, and it showed in the way he reached for the same things you did, your movements accidentally falling into sync. 

By the time things slowed down enough for dinner, you were already nursing a headache. It wasn’t until the pace had slowed and Sarah finally sat down with a plate of food after her kids were put to bed that the conversation turned against you.

“So,” Sarah stabbed a piece of calamari with her fork, looking at you with a glint of something announcing nothing good. “You seeing anyone yet?”

You nearly choked on your drink. Across from you, Sam let out a low chuckle.

“Oh, this should be good,” he mused, propping his chin on his hand and settling in like he was about to watch a show.

You shot him a glare before turning back to Sarah. “Not really.”

“Not really, or not at all?”

“Not. At. All.”

Sam let out a whistle, shaking his head in mock pity. “Damn. That’s rough.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass. “Well, it’s kind of your fault.”

The smirk fell right off his face. “My fault?”

You didn’t waver, locking eyes with him. “I don’t know if you remember, but you kind of put me on the map. You know, with that whole ‘mystery woman spotted with the Falcon’ thing?” You waved a hand vaguely. “Hard to trust people when they might secretly be fans. Or worse, spies.”

The hostess hummed in interest, taking a slow sip of her drink. “That does sound inconvenient.”

Sam scoffed. "Oh, be real, miss fancy pants. You can’t be serious.”

“But I am,” you shot back. “Because of you, I have to second-guess every new person I meet. Even for business.”

Sam shrugged, looking way too entertained. “Could be worse.”

You raised a brow. “Would you trust random people throwing themselves at you if the roles were reversed?”

He let out a sharp laugh, cocky and dismissive. “Sure, after a small background check.”

You leaned forward, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, totally. It’s so much fun when I get approached because people think I’m some tragic ex or long-lost lover of yours. Or getting bombarded with people asking if I ever hooked up with the Falcon, or if I have ‘tea’ to spill on our ‘relationship’, or if I’m ‘jealous’ that you’re off saving the world and not wasting time.” You tilted your head. “That’s just peak entertainment.”

For once, the Avenger had nothing to say.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, and let’s not forget the weirdos who DM me saying they’d be happy to ‘fill the hole’ you supposedly left in my life.”

Sam choked on his drink, coughing violently. “What?”

“Oh yeah.” You pulled out your phone, tapped a few times, then held it out to him. “Here. Go ahead. Take a look at your legacy.”

He grabbed it hesitantly, scrolling through your inbox, his expression shifting from amused to horrified. “Oh, hell no,” he muttered. “What the hell is wrong with people?”

Sarah smirked. “Damn, Sam. Ruined her dating life and left her with internet weirdos. That’s cold.”

Sam dragged a hand down his face. “Okay, fine, that’s bad.” He handed your phone back. “But still, you could’ve just—I don’t know—ignored it? De-activate your socials?”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just ignore the fact that I have to Google every guy I talk to just to make sure they’re not running a secret fan account for you.”

He burst out laughing, to which you childishly responded by throwing a fry at his head.

Sarah, watching all this like it was prime-time TV, suddenly perked up. “I might have a solution.”

You groaned. “I don’t like that tone.”

“No, no, hear me out,” she insisted, grinning. “I saw this thing the other day—apparently, there’s a place in town that does blind dates in escape rooms.”

You blinked. “You saw what now?”

“It’s a fun concept,” she continued breezily. “Two people, locked in a room, working together to get out. You don’t know who you’re paired with beforehand, and it forces you to communicate.” She took another bite of her food, then added, “I think you two should try it.”

You both turned to her at the same time. “No—” “Hell no.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You two are so dramatic. It’s literally an escape room—”

“With a blind date,” you interrupted with frantic gestures. “As in, being forced into a confined space with a random stranger and trusting them enough to help me get out.” You shook your head. “Not happening.”

Sarah gave you a pointed look. “You do realize that’s exactly what dating is, right?”

You glared. “Don’t make points right now.”

She turned her attention to Sam, who was still muttering under his breath. “And what’s your problem?”

Her brother shot her a disbelieving look. “You seriously don’t see the issue?”

“Nope.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s way too risky for me to go in public and have my info given out to some company and get paired up with someone potentially crazy like her right here. Yeah, no way in hell I’m signing up for that.”

You turned back to Sarah. “Do you hear the way he talks to me? And you think I should be dating?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why I’m setting you up with other people. You both need a reality check.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Okay, ignoring the audacity of that statement—why an escape room? If I wanted to be locked in a room with a stranger, I’d call my internet provider.”

Sarah once again ignored your rebuttals. “It forces you to work together. Communication, problem-solving, a little trust—”

Sam let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather skydive without a parachute.”

“You literally have a parachute,” you deadpanned.

“Exactly,” Sam said. “Which is why I don’t need to go on some experimental dating hostage situation.”

Sarah huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. Let me put it this way—if you don’t go, I’ll tell Bucky you’re both too scared to put yourselves out there.”

You wanted to put up a bigger fight, if not for the very real threat of James Buchanan Barnes getting wind of this.

You had met him once, years ago, during one of Sam’s very unwelcome, very impromptu visits. You hadn’t even been expecting company that day, let alone a literal ex-assassin sitting at Sarah’s dining table like it was the most normal thing in the world. And to make matters worse, Sam had introduced you in the most obnoxious way possible.

“This is my sister’s best friend. She talks a big game but couldn’t win an argument if her life depended on it.”

And Bucky, with all the smugness of someone who absolutely enjoyed making your life difficult, had just smirked, leaned back in his chair, and smugly commented—

“Huh. Sounds familiar.”

You hadn’t even known him for five minutes, and he had already sided with Sam. Ever since, the latter had made sure to weaponize their friendship against you at every opportunity, regardless of the fast-growing amicability between his former partner and you.

And you knew that if Bucky found out about this, you would never hear the end of it. He’d be relentless. Casually dropping mentions of your lack of a partner into every conversation, even if the irony lied in him being in the same situation—though he’d probably argue that unlike him, there was a lack of trying on your part as well as the absence of an excuse as astronomical as being a well-known mass murderer with an insane past. And also probably betting money on how fast you’d walk out of the damn escape room.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

His sister’s grin only widened. “Oh, I absolutely would.”

You could already picture it—Bucky, smirking like he had all the dirt in the world on you and bringing it up at the most inopportune moments. Teasing you mercilessly every time you so much as glanced at your phone. Probably making some dumb comment like, “So, can’t find anyone to put up with you?”

Nope. Absolutely not.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing your temples. “I so hate you right now.”

Sarah just smiled. “So that’s a yes?”

The Falcon groaned in desperation. “This is blackmail.”

She simply shrugged at the accusation. “I like to think of it as strong encouragement.”

"How long is it?” you finally asked, defeated.

“One hour.”

Sam groaned, tipping his head back. “Sixty minutes of my life I’m never getting back.”

The restaurant’s owner shrugged, too pleased with herself to care. “Think of it this way—worst-case scenario, you get out and never see the person again.”

The pilot grumbled under his breath before sharply exhaling after a long pause. “Whatever. But when this goes horribly, I want it on record that I called it.”

“Duly noted.”

⠀

⠀

The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and violet as you gripped the wheel of your car with the force of someone actively trying not to commit murder. The drive to the escape room was supposed to be uneventful. Key words: supposed to. But Sam Wilson had never once encountered an opportunity for peace without promptly deciding to mischievously ruin it.

It started small. A shift in his seat, a glance at the dashboard, an exhale so faint you almost didn’t catch it. Then, before you knew it, his fingers were wandering, prodding at the glossy screen in the center console with an exaggerated curiosity that made your temple throb.

You gritted your teeth. "Stop touching things."

“Relax,” he drawled, ever the picture of unbothered arrogance. "I’m just exploring my environment."

“It’s not an environment, it’s my car.”

Sam clicked his tongue, grinning in a way that meant nothing good. “You got all these fancy-ass features, and you don’t even use ‘em? Shame. Really makes me question your judgment.”

“You’re about to question your life choices when I push you out onto the freeway.”

With all of your previous spouts, you should have known that issuing such a warning would only serve to encourage his childish behavior.

It started with him cranking the seat warmers up to their highest setting, slowly enough that you didn’t notice until your lower back was mysteriously drenched in sweat. He followed by playing with the ambient lighting, flipping through every color at an alarming rate until the inside of your car looked like a malfunctioning disco ball. But the worst, the absolute worst, came when he discovered your Bluetooth. 

A horrendous mix of static and Sam’s laughter blasted through your speakers as the system synced.

You gawked at him. “If you so much as—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the familiar bright and bouncy opening chords of Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus blared from the speakers, the bubbly pop song catering a stark contrast to the slow-building horror creeping up your spine.

Sam, entirely unbothered by your stricken expression, immodestly threw his feet up onto the dashboard with the air of a man settling in for a long, leisurely road trip rather than someone actively testing the limits of your patience. With the unrestrained passion of a performer standing before a sold-out stadium crowd, he threw his head back and belted at the top of his lungs, “And a Jay-Z song was on!”

You recoiled, grimacing as his voice cracked mid-note. But before responding, you reached over and smacked his legs off the dashboard, sending his sneakers thudding back to the floor. “Get your dirty feet off my dash,” you snapped.

Sam clutched his chest like you’d wounded him. “Oh, live a bit, woman. Damn, you really have no appreciation for the arts or my comfort?”

Your grip tightened around the steering wheel as you ignored his jab, leveling him instead with a flat, unimpressed stare. “This,” you slowly voiced with incredulity, “is the choice you made?”

“Hell yeah.” He nodded in affirmation, not even pausing in his off-key, wholly committed performance. “This is a certified anthem.”

“This is a cry for help.”

Sam gasped, scandalized. “You don’t like Party in the USA?”

“I do. I just don’t like you singing Party in the USA.” Without breaking your focus on the road, you lunged for his phone, yanking it from his grip with the precision of someone who had endured one too many of his antics. A dramatic click later, and blissful silence fell over the cabin.

Your passenger, however, was anything but deterred. He cackled, shoulders shaking, entirely too smug.

You inhaled deeply, willing the tension in your fingers to ease before you left permanent indentations on the wheel. “I swear to God, Wilson—”

“Hey,” he cut in, still grinning like a man with no fear of consequences. “Could’ve been worse. I could’ve switched it to romance audiobooks.”

“I will crash this car.”

The silence was short-lived. Like a cocky thief in the night, Sam moved with the precision of a soldier and the recklessness of a man who knew exactly how to test your limits. One second, the phone was in your grasp, victory assured. The next, it was snatched away with infuriating ease.

You barely had time to register the offense before the speakers flared back to life, the cabin suddenly swelling with the smooth, honeyed tones of a song that hit far too close to home.

"I see the crystal raindrops fall…"

Your eyes snapped to him, narrowing in slow, dawning realization. The Falcon, unbothered and wholly self-satisfied, leaned back against the seat with his arms folded behind his head as if he hadn't just detonated a nostalgia bomb between you. The smooth timbre of Grover Wshington Jr.’s voice accompagnied the melodious instrumental of Just the Two of Us, the saxophone bringing more than just nostalgia of a classic.

You knew exactly what he was doing. You remembered the easy rhythm of laughter between verses as you'd vaguely engage in a clumsy waltz, tripping over both feet and lyrics and pretending it was intentional. You remembered Sam’s off-key falsetto and your equally disastrous harmonies, along with the unshakable euphoria and certainty that no matter where life took you, you’d always end up in the same place.

But life had a way of rewriting certainties—the choices that wedged themselves between you was certainly proof of it. And yet, despite everything that happened, that song still had its hooks in you.

Sam, ever the instigator, drummed his fingers against the dashboard, slow and patient, like a fisherman waiting for the line to tug. When you didn’t react, he turned his head and elbowed you in your arm. “C’mon. Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I do remember.”

“Then sing.”

You scoffed, pretending it didn’t get to you. “Pass.”

His grin sharpened. “Boo, loser. What, so you can’t sing anymore? That’s crazy. Didn’t know losing your ability to sing was part of getting old and bitter—”

Your glare should have scorched him and wiped that insufferable smirk right off his face, but he only leaned in, fully basking in his role as an unrepentant menace.

"We can make it if we try…" He sang it pointedly, nudging you again with his elbow like an annoying kid brother. You swatted him away without sparing a glance. He did it again. And again. Until finally—

You exhaled sharply, grip slackening. “I hate you.”

But as the chorus approached, the words left your lips before you could stop them.

"Just the two of us…"

It was barely a whisper at first, something fragile and unintentional. But Sam caught it immediately and grinned just as quickly, victorious, before singing louder.

You rolled your eyes, but the fight was already lost.

“That’s my girl,” he cheered on, and before you could roll your eyes, he threw his head back and belted out the next line with all the fanciness of a Broadway performer.

By the next verse, you were both loudly singing off-key. He purposely overstated his notes, while you botched entire lines just to tease him. Laughter flowed freely between lines, busting through the barricades you'd both painstakingly established.  Sam, ever the dramatist, went full concert mode, wiggling his shoulders like an overenthusiastic backup dancer and pretending to hold a microphone as he crooned into his fist.

“No,” you moaned in exasperation between bursts of laughter as he hit an ungodly note. “That was—oh my God, Sam, stop—that is a crime against music.”

He only doubled down, adding unnecessary falsetto flourishes and pointing dramatically out the window as if serenading the passing trees. The harmonies were an absolute disaster. The timing was questionable at best. But for those few minutes, it didn’t matter. It was just you and Sam, the car, and the open road, voices colliding in the space between you.

It shouldn't have felt so natural, to slip into something that had been tearing around the edges for years. But for a brief while, it did—which was perilous, like plunging into still waters.

No matter how lighthearted it appeared, you were smart enough to understand that the political choice in this song was not only to reminisce about one of your favorite memories, but also to convey a hidden message, as the song still had meaning in its lines. “We can make it if we try”. It was a promise, one you had scarcely believed in with your whole heart before you had to learn to live without him. 

By the time the final note of the song was hit, the magic was broken. You cleared your throat and adjusted your grip on the wheel. You mumbled, "Still sing like a damn goat," since it was easier than admitting anything else.

Sam snorted. "You still talk big for someone who sounds like a dying cat."

Quietness regained its rightful place, this time more charged than before with the shadow of something lost between you. He shoved his hands into his pockets, head down, looking like he was trying to collect his thoughts—or just avoid whatever was about to spill out.

“Look, about everything that happened...” He hesitated, voice trailing off, before he tried again. “I didn’t mean—”

You cut him off before he could continue. “It’s fine,” you muttered, trying to keep the ache from spilling over. “Honestly, I should’ve expected it. You’re always going to be tied up in something bigger than us. I get it now. I should’ve known better.”

The pilot didn’t respond right away but you still made out the sound of him breathing down his nose, betraying the turmoil that was spiralling in his mind. “I just—I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring what happened. I—”

“No.” The word came out before you could stop it, hard and final. Your lips twisted into a smile, but it was bitter, hollow. “You don’t need to apologize anymore. It’s not necessary. I mean, the Air Force is a big thing. And now with the whole Avengers thing…” Your breath hitched slightly. “You had big priorities. It’s understandable.”

The words left a bitter taste on your tongue, every syllable a shard of resentment you had tried for so long to swallow. “It’s okay. You don’t need to make up some excuse.”

Sam’s expression flickered, his features shifting subtly as he processed your words, but he didn’t respond. His silence felt like another slap in the face, the unspoken weight of his guilt settling over the car.

"It just hurt," you continued, the words uncontrollably tumbling out of your mouth, as if you couldn’t hold them back any longer. "You said you’d make time. That we could figure it out." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, your chest tight with the pressure of everything you’d been carrying. "But then... it was like I was just some side story to your life. I had to deal with everything on my own. You didn’t just leave me, Sam. You left me hanging in front of the entire world, like I was an afterthought."

You could see him flinching and opening his mouth to speak, but the reply stayed stuck somewhere behind his teeth for awhile. “I didn’t mean for it to happen that way,” he finally admitted, his voice tight with frustration, lips pressed into a thin line. “You have to know that.” 

You let out a dry laugh, bitter and edged with years of pent-up anger. "No," you spat, shaking your head. "I don’t know that. I really don’t. And now you want to apologize? You think a few words will make it go away?" You turned to him then with glaring eyes, the dam inside you breaking wide open. “But I guess I should’ve known better, right? You’ve always got more important things on your plate than me. And I was just dumb enough to think I could be part of it." You let out a shaky breath. "That’s on me, not you.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed, his fists clenched so tightly against his knees that you could see the tendons in his hands strain. "That’s not fair," he rasped.

“No,” you bit out with the bitter burn of years of disappointment. “What’s not fair is pretending everything’s okay now, like you didn’t leave me in the dust. You can’t just waltz back in here and expect me to forget how much it hurt when you left me behind.”

Sam growled, his gaze snapping to yours with an intensity that could’ve burned brighter than the sunlight reflecting on the windshield. “I didn’t mean to do that. It wasn’t like that. If you’d just let me explain—”

But you were already shaking your head, a bitter laugh slipping out as you cut him off. "It doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this again."

The rest of the drive stretched on in silence, bouncing on the precarious mix of unsaid words and the sharp sting of old wounds reopening. By the time you pulled into the parking lot of the escape room, your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, your body wound tight with the tension of everything you’d let out during the ride.

You almost yanked the car into park with more force than necessary, the engine’s rumbling metaphorically serving as a harsh reminder of how you were both still reeling from your slight altercation.

The door slammed shut behind you, but neither of you made a move to walk toward the entrance. The space between you felt wider than the parking lot itself. You weren’t sure what else to say, if there was even anything left to say. 

“You should go inside first,” you finally said, your eyes staying firmly on the building in front of you. “I still need to arrange a few things in the car.” You were making a conscious decision to create some distance, to not go beyond what you could navigate through the dangerous waves of this confrontation. “Good luck with your date… or, uh, escape game.” You gave a small, tight smile, though it felt more like a bitter farewell than any kind of encouragement.

Sam silently hesitated, his eyes searching yours, like he was about to say something—but the words never formed. Instead, he took a deep breath and gave a short nod. "You too. Good luck with... whatever it is you're gonna do, too."

Without another word, he turned his back to you and walked toward the entrance with stiff shoulders. His footsteps echoed against the pavement as he left you alone, marking said distance you were so adamant on implementing once and for all.

You didn’t watch him go. You couldn’t. Instead, you opened your door with a soft creak, the cool night air rushing in as you slid back into the driver’s seat. It felt like a strange kind of closure, the door clicking shut behind you as if you were signing the definite end of a chapter, even if nothing really felt settled. With a shaky hand, you wiped the stray tears that had fallen down your cheeks, quickly brushing them away like they never happened, like you could pretend they weren’t there.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. There was still the night ahead, the escape game to focus on, even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it.

⠀

⠀

The artificial chill of the air conditioning wrapped around you as soon as you stepped inside, abruptly differing from the lingering warmth of dusk. The area smelled somewhat floral, though not in a pleasant way—more like a half-hearted attempt to conceal the antiseptic, even clinical ambiance. The welcome space looked sleek and modern, with clean lines and soft, ambient lighting, but something seemed odd.

A trio of employees stood behind the clean counter, their demeanor courteous but impersonal. Their uniforms were clean, their smiles practiced, and their eyes assessing—not in a way that made you feel welcome, but rather processed.

"Just need you to sign a few things," one of them said, sliding a clipboard toward you with the kind of ease that suggested they had done this a hundred times before. Maybe a thousand.

You picked up the pen and skimmed the pages, your brows knitting together. Waiver. Consent form. Limited liability in the case of mild distress.

Everything screamed shady.

Even though you knew they conducted a comprehensive background check on their clients' criminal records—you knew because you boldly inquired beforehand—your gut twisted with disquiet, a silent warning you had long since learned not to ignore. But you forced yourself to exhale, suppressing the mounting doubt. Sarah planned this, and she wouldn't throw you into an underground horror movie scenario, right?

Still, the blindfold part? That was peculiar, to say the least.

“Standard procedure,” the staff member assured you in a smooth and clearly rehearsed tone. That didn’t make you feel any better.

But you weren’t about to back out now. Soundly sighing, you allowed them to tie the fabric securely over your eyes, and in an instant, the world went black.

A friendly but firm hand took you down what appeared to be a long corridor. Each step heightened the sense of disorientation, the absence of sight accentuating everything else—hushed murmurs in the distance, the continuous flaps of an air vent above, the dull pressure of the floor under you. Then a pause. The air became colder. A door opened, and you were gently guided inside.

The door shut behind you, and the person beside you vanished.

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching at the sides. The lack of vision made everything feel too much—the faint shuffle of your own feet as you shifted nervously, the way your breathing seemed louder than it should, the slight press of your pulse on your temples. How long were they going to leave you here?

The weight of the silence stretched, and so did the edges of your nerves. Finally, the door creaked open again. Your spine became rigid. Footsteps, slow and measured. The door clicked closed once more.

Someone was here.

You exhaled, forcing an easy tone into your voice despite the unease creeping up your spine. "So, uh… I guess this is the part where we introduce ourselves? Hi, I’m—"

A strange, loaded silence tightened around you like a noose, twisting in your stomach. Were they simply joking with you? Or was there something else going on here?

Your patience, already thin after the day's events, had fully frayed. Screw this. Against your better judgment, you reached up and ripped the blindfold off, blinking rapidly as your eyes acclimated to the room's dull, amber hue.

And there, across from you, stood Sam. A solitary rose danced between his fingers, whirling aimlessly, as if he had all the time in the world. His attitude was unreadable—calm and poised, but his eyes held something you couldn't quite identify.

"Oh, hell no."

Sam let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing his temple like the sheer force of his fingers could press back the headache forming there. “Unbelievable,” he sneered, shaking his head. “I should’ve known Sarah was up to something when she kept dodging my questions.”

You let out a scoff, dragging a hand down your face as the reality of the situation settled over you like an unbearable weight. “This is what I get for trusting Sarah with this. Honestly, I’d rather deal with Bucky’s endless teasing right now than… this.”

The veteran arched a brow, folding his arms. “To be fair, you did let her set you up on a blind date with a stranger.”

You leveled him with a look. “Yeah, and so did you!” You threw up your hands. “And we came here together. Did she seriously think we wouldn’t notice?”

He exhaled sharply, his expression caught between exasperation and reluctant amusement. “Guess she figured we’d be too busy arguing to put the pieces together.”

You scoffed. “Well, congrats to her, then. She got exactly what she wanted.”

Determined to put an end to this ridiculous setup, you turned toward the door, grasped the handle, and gave it a firm tug. It didn’t budge. Your pulse ticked higher. You tried again, more forcefully this time, but the door remained stubbornly locked.

Behind you, Sam sighed, the sound far too entertained for your liking. “Still locked?”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, jaw tight. “Obviously.”

Before he could toss out another quip, the overhead speakers crackled to life, the static buzzing through the dimly lit room before a saccharine, overly cheerful voice filled the space.

"Welcome, lovebirds, to the Valentine’s Day Escape Challenge!"

Your entire body went rigid. Sam, standing just a few feet away, had stilled completely, his eyes narrowing like he was already regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.

"Over the next hour, you and your partner will work together to solve puzzles, uncover secrets, and—most importantly—ignite a spark between you!"

Your eye twitched. "The what?"

The Falcon was still staring up at the speaker, but you could feel the sheer amount of unspoken profanity radiating off of him.

"You have sixty minutes! And remember... teamwork makes the dream work!"

A mechanical clunk sounded somewhere in the room, and a timer flickered to life on the far wall, its neon numbers casting an ominous glow.

59:59. 59:58. 59:57.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, forcing down the overwhelming urge to scream, then turned to Sam. He met your stare, equally exasperated, equally resigned.

The room was an assault of saccharine love-themed aesthetics, as if Eros himself had suffered a violent, glitter-drenched demise. Heart-shaped garlands draped along the walls in looping chains, glowing pink fairy lights casting a hazy, dreamlike blush over every velvet-draped surface. A gilded vanity stood against one wall, its mirror smeared with cryptic riddles in waxy, crimson lipstick. The simulated fireplace screen let out crackled sounds, its flames flickering just a little too artificially, a cheap illusion of warmth in a space meant to seduce.

At the center of it all sat a small, round table, dressed in pristine white linen, set for two. A single wax-sealed envelope rested atop the china, like the final invitation to some grand, elaborate joke.

Sam let out a low whistle, slow and unimpressed as he took in the spectacle. “It’s like Cupid threw up in here.”

You crossed your arms, exhaling through your nose. “More like a discount wedding venue.”

“Either way, I already hate it.”

“Great. Common ground.” You stepped forward, plucking the envelope off the table, breaking the seal with a sharp tear. “Means we’ll get through this faster.”

Inside, a delicate pink card gleamed under the low lighting, its cursive gold lettering gliding across the surface like a whispered dare:

"To escape, one must first unlock the heart. Find the key, answer truthfully, and embrace the game."

You flipped the card over, your frown deepening. Blank.

“Well, that’s unhelpful.”

Sam leaned in over your shoulder, the warmth of his unwelcome presence creeping at your back. “Sounds like a load of nonsense.”

“Sounds like we need to find a key.” You tossed the card aside and swept your gaze across the room. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He followed at an infuriatingly lazy pace, hands tucked in his pockets. “You always this impatient on dates?”

You shot him a glare. “You always this obnoxious?”

“‘That a rhetorical question?”

You huffed, stepping toward the vanity. Its antique gold frame was chipped, and its once-opulent beauty weathered down to something just shy of decadent. Trinkets littered the surface—heart-shaped perfume bottles, a pearl necklace draped over a porcelain hand sculpture, and a plush teddy bear wearing a satin bow tie.

You picked up the bear, giving it a shake. Something rattled inside. Without hesitation, you grabbed the bow and pulled at it, to which the Avenger let out a sharp breath. “At least pretend to have some finesse. Poor guy.”

You turned, leveling him with a glare. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer I politely ask the stuffed animal for the key?”

His smirk was all teeth. “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

With an exaggerated tug, the bow finally tore away, revealing a tiny brass key stitched into the lining. Triumphant, you held it up between two fingers, letting it catch the candlelight. “Hah. Suck it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded toward the oversized keyhole carved into the farthest door. “Moment of truth.”

The lock clicked smoothly, the door groaning as it swung inward to reveal the next part of your prison—a room bathed in deep red velvet, dimly lit by flickering candle sconces. A loveseat sat at its heart, a small pedestal beside it, where a single glass dome encased a perfect red rose.

You exhaled sharply. “Great. More romantic fuckery.”

Sam rolled his shoulders, his stance widening. “Starting to think this whole thing is just an excuse for people to make out in a locked room.”

You shot him a warning look. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re really killing the mood.”

Your attention shifted to the plaque beneath the rose. The words, engraved in curling script, sent an uneasy shiver down your spine: "A promise once spoken, never fulfilled, lingers in the heart forever." You took a step back, exhaling a little too precipitously. “Alright. Where’s the next clue?”

Sam didn’t move. His gaze lingered on the plaque before flickering back to you. “That bother you?”

“Nope,” you said too quickly. “Just wanna get out of here.”

He studied you, and for once, he wasn’t all for the laughs. “You’re lying straight to my face.”

You stiffened. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.” His voice was laced with the same exasperation you remembered from years ago—when things were different. When things were good. “You think I don’t know? You think I don’t see it?”

You pivoted angrily towards him. “See what, Sam? I told you everything already. You want to talk about how years later, when you came back, I was the one whose name got dragged through the dirt because some paparazzi decided I made a convenient headline?”

His jaw ticked. “You think I wanted that to happen?”

“Well you barely did a damn thing to stop it, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, so that was my fault?” His voice rose, heat sparking in his eyes. “I was trying to keep you out of that mess! You think I had any control over what the media did?”

“Maybe not.” Your breath came hard now, uneven. “But you had control over what you did. And you chose to stay silent.”

The room’s candlelight flickered violently, shadows dancing along the walls that suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, encaging you in this intolerable and toxic chasm of tug-of-war fight. Sam’s hands flexed at his sides. He looked like he wanted to grab something—grab you, maybe, or stop himself from doing exactly that.

“Say it,” he finally murmured, voice rough.

You swallowed. “Say what?”

“Whatever it is you’ve been dying to say since I walked back here.” His gaze burned into yours. “Go ahead. Get it out.”

The pathetic words escaped before you could stop them.

“You lied to me and I hate you for it.”

Sam flinched, but you pressed on, voice breaking on the edges. “You promised I wouldn’t just be some forgotten thing in your past. And you never even tried.”

His nostrils flared. “You think I didn’t want to?”

“Oh, please.” You let out a bitter laugh. “You were fine. You left, became a hero, and forgot all about me until you came back wearing a fucking jetpack.”

“You were never something I could forget.”

You felt something crack in your chest. “You don’t get to say that now, Sam,” you whispered.

He stepped closer. Then again. You barely realized you were moving too, until the air between you collapsed, the heat of his body pressing into yours, the tension a live wire sparking between your ribs. 

"Then look me in the eye," Sam rasped, his voice raw, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. "Look at me and tell me I’m lying and this doesn’t mean anything anymore. Tell me you don’t feel it—say the words, and I’ll walk away. But say them like you mean them." 

Your throat worked, but no words came. Because as much as you wanted to deny the allegations, you did feel it. The frustration, the anger. And beneath it all—the wanting, the aching. The bone-deep longing for something neither of you had the courage to claim when it mattered.

In an unfurling of sudden movement, his back hit the wall with a dull thud, but before he could react, you were on him, fisting the front of his shirt and crashing your mouth against his, engaging in a battle more than a kiss. It was akin to a wildfire—scorching, desperate, all teeth and heat, the culmination of every regret and every second wasted.

The pilot groaned into it, his hands flying to your waist, strong and sure as he hauled you against him. A sharp gasp left you at the feeling of his body flush with yours, but he didn’t give you room to think or to breathe. He spun you, pressing you back against the wall, his mouth relentless against yours, moving with a punishing, consuming intent—like he wanted to devour you whole.

Your fingers twisted further into his meticulous white shirt, attempting to pull him impossibly closer than you already were. He swallowed the sound that escaped you, deepening the kiss like a starved man, like he needed this, needed you, needed to make up for all the time lost.

His lips dragged over your jaw, hot breath ghosting against your skin.

"Still mad?" he murmured against your lips, voice thick with want, teasing even now, even like this.

Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, seizing it and savoring how his breath hitched at your doing, the way his fingers flexed against your waist. "Furious."

Sam’s breath stuttered against your lips, a ragged sound caught between a groan and something dangerously close to surrender. His fingers curled into your waist, holding you like he needed to anchor himself, like if he let go, you’d slip through his grasp and take the last shred of his self-control with you.

The kiss burned, devouring, each second unraveling the years of restraint neither of you wanted to acknowledge anymore. You felt the tension in the way he pressed against you, in the way his hands slid beneath your shirt, palms searing against your skin. Your nails raked down his back, dragging over hard covered muscle, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your fists as if you could pull him deeper into you, as if there was any space left between you to close.

"Tell me to stop," Sam gasped through the clashing of your mouths, the words nearly lost to the breathlessness between you. His request went ignored as his lips traced a slow, punishing path down your jaw, his breath hot against your throat as his hands wandered, gripping, relearning, claiming back what was once his for a brief instance. 

You tilted your head, granting him more access, shivering as he took it without hesitation, teeth scraping against sensitive skin. Your fingers roamed over his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt, the solid weight of him beneath your touch. It wasn’t enough. You needed more. Needed skin, heat, the press of him without barriers.

Your hands found the first button of his shirt, fumbling in your urgency. One button slipped free, then another, the fabric parting under your fingers.

Until the door slammed open.

You barely had time to gasp before Sam reacted on instinct. In a blur of movement, he thrusted you behind him, body braced like a shield between you and whoever had just interrupted.

A pair of employees stood in the doorway, frozen like deer in headlights. One clutched a clipboard, the other a maintenance checklist, both staring like they had just walked in on a crime scene.

A heavy silence stretched between all of you.

"Uh…" The clipboard guy cleared his throat, his voice weak, almost apologetic. "This… isn't a private room."

Sam exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience clearly dangling by a thread. His chest still heaved with unspent frustration and the lingering burn of what had been seconds away from happening. He ran a slow hand down his face before fixing them with a dark, pointed look.

"Clearly," he said flatly.

The maintenance guy swallowed hard. "We—we knocked. Three times."

Clipboard guy shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting everywhere but at you and Sam. "Look, we know you signed up for it and all, but this is too much—you can’t stay here. We have to ask you to leave. Immediately."

The Avenger stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as he looked them up and down. The movement was subtle, but the effect was instant. Clipboard guy flinched. Maintenance guy tensed, suddenly looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"You saw nothing," he declared lowly. "And whatever you think you saw? No you didn’t." His gaze flicked downward, locking onto the phone peeking out of the employee’s pocket.

The guy scrambled to pull it out, hands shaking as he unlocked the screen. "N-Nothing there! See?" He turned it around in a panic.

Sam barely glanced at it before nodding, satisfied. "Good. Smart choice."

You bit your lip, caught between laughter and mortification as Sam slid an arm around your waist, steering you toward the exit with purposeful ease.

"Now," he continued, voice laced with something smug as he leaned in just enough for only you to hear, "if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be."

His grip on your hip tightened as he led you outside, your pulse hammering in response, the rest of the world fading as the need he had ignited moments ago roared back to life with a vengeance.

⠀

⠀

The ride back to the restaurant was enveloped in a heavy silence—not the brittle awkwardness of unspoken apologies nor the tenseness of imminent confrontation, but a solemn, almost sacred quietude laden with things neither of you yet dared to name.

You kept your eyes fixed on the road, though the lingering warmth of Sam’s hand on your waist remained—a memory of intimacy that had evaporated the instant you stepped out of that room. The echo of what had nearly transpired clung to your skin like a phantom caress, simmering just beneath the surface, an unacknowledged secret shared between you.

When you finally reached the restaurant, the usual mix of clamors of conversation and the tinkling of glasses felt jarringly discordant against the subdued cadence of your thoughts. You both hesitated at the entrance, lingering in the threshold. After a long pause, Sam sighed deeply, his hand drifting to his jaw as if to smooth away the remnants of the night’s turbulence. “Go wait for me,” he ordered you, “at our spot.”

That command stopped you in your tracks.

Our spot.

It had been years since either of you had dared to approach it, much less mention it aloud. The old corner by the water hidden from the prying lights of the city, where you had once spent long, languid nights nursing cheap beer, debating everything and nothing, and watching the world settle into quiet dreams. Back when neither of you had been bold enough to risk shattering that fragile haven.

You searched his face, but his eyes were fixed beyond you, as if he were still uncertain whether the words should have been spoken at all. Still, you nodded.

The dock greeted you like a cherished relic from a bygone era. Weathered wooden planks stretched over dark, rippling water, the faint, distant glow of the city shimmering in its reflection. The air was crisp and invigorating, hinting at the encroaching chill of night and making you wish you had remembered to bring a jacket.

You sank onto the edge of the dock, letting your feet dangle freely above the water, your fingers twisting together in quiet contemplation. Time slipped by in muted anticipation until, at last, the sound of footsteps echoed softly behind you. Then, as if conjured by the very night, a presence settled beside you.

Without a word, Sam pressed a cold bottle on your forehead that burned as it met your skin, making you almost jump out of your place before you took the flask of whiskey—and set another beside him. He then unfurled a thick, timeworn blanket, draping it over both of you with a fluid, almost reverent motion.

The warmth of the blanket combined with the closeness of his body seeped into you instantly, chasing away the chill of the night. For a long moment, you simply sat there, the dock creaking softly beneath your weight, the gentle lapping of water against old wood composing a quiet symphony for your shared solitude.

You sighed, rolling the bottle between your palms. “So..”

One simple word laden with the totality of everything left unsaid, a distillation of years of longing, regret and the raw, unspoken truth of your intertwined past.

You exhaled slowly, tightening your grip on the blanket as though holding it could tether you both to this moment. This was it—the precipice upon which you both now stood. There was no turning away, no hiding behind silence any longer. 

“So,” Sam repeated, his voice tinged with playful mischief as he copied your idle toying with the cold bottle in his hand, “that was… something, wasn’t it?” 

“Ugh, don’t say something cliché like that. But yeah, that was definitely something for the books, I guess.” You managed a shaky smile, your words emerging in a hesitant cadence. There was a lightness in your tone—a mirth that felt like a delicate mask over the swirling emotions that both terrified and enthralled you.

The Falcon grinned, arching an eyebrow. “You know, if it weren’t for how noisy Sarah is, we might have savored it in peace.”

You chuckled softly, the sound both amused and rueful. “She practically narrated our every move. You know she loves her piece of drama.”

“Exactly,” he agreed in a playful tone yet laced with something deeper—a hint of regret, perhaps. “I think she made sure we were loud enough for at least the entire escape room to hear.”

You shook your head, still smiling despite the vulnerability threading through your laughter. “I guess sometimes a little noise is inevitable. I mean, if everything were hushed, we’d never have the chance to remember just how messy and magnificent it all was.”

Sam’s eyes softened as he took a slow sip from the bottle, the amber liquid catching the light. “Sounds like the perfect way to put it,” he murmured absent-mindedly. Your fingers moved on to fidget with the edge of the blanket draped around you, and Sam’s gaze frequently wandered to your flushed face, as if silently pleading for some unspoken reassurance.

“Ask me,” he suddenly requested, his voice both gentle and edged with a trace of desperation, as though he believed that the right question might finally untangle the knots of regret and longing that had haunted you both for so long. “Ask me the question you’ve been holding back.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, each beat echoing with years of missed chances and unspoken words. In a trembling rush of emotion, you blurted out, “What—uh, did you like it?” Your voice quavered, carrying the weight of the moment like a fragile plea.

Sam’s eyes shimmered with a mixture of relief and sorrow as he slowly shook his head. “No,” he replied, his tone soft yet resolute. “I mean—yes, but that’s not what I meant.” He paused, carefully choosing his words as if every syllable carried the gravity of the past. “Ask me the one you’ve wanted to ask for so long.”

A delicate tremor passed through you, and your breath caught in your throat. After a long, painful silence, you whispered, “Why didn’t you write me?” 

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the dock, as if the night itself awaited his answer. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and slowly extracted a tightly knotted bundle of papers. Unraveling the thread with careful fingers, he revealed a stack of letters, yellowed with time and crinkled at the edges.

“I did write you letters,” he softly admitted, his gaze fixed on the fragile pages as if they contained his very soul. “That’s what I wanted to tell you for so long. Three hundred and sixty-five of them… one for every day.” His voice trembled with both pride and regret. “But you have to understand—the Air Force policy was tight as fuck. I couldn’t send them, and once I realized that, I… I knew you’d resent me for not keeping in touch.”

He paused, running a hand over the neatly stacked pages. “This whole thing took a toll on me—physically, mentally. I was drowning in obligations and fear, and eventually, I stopped writing because I thought maybe it was the only way to spare you from more pain.” His eyes darkened as he continued, voice barely a murmur now. “And as for the paparazzi… I thought that by not speaking, by keeping my distance, I’d protect you. If I wasn’t seen with you, they’d assume there was no connection—no real relationship worth prying into.”

A single tear glinted in the corner of your eye as you absorbed his words, each one a quiet confession, a secret revealed in the darkness. The letters lay between you like relics of a lost time—a testament to love, duty, and the unbearable cost of silence.

Your fingers trembled as they hovered above the fragile stack of letters, each page heavy with the weight of stolen years and unspoken regrets. The unsent words pressed against your chest as though they carried every moment lost between you, every silent apology and longing unfulfilled. You swallowed hard, the night air thick with an unspoken tremor that danced at the edge of every exhale.

“Tell me about them,” you professed, your voice scarcely more than a whisper carried on the breeze.

The pilot exhaled sharply, his thumb absently caressing the frayed edges of one of the letters as if it were a relic of his former self. “You really want to know?” he asked, his tone tentative, laced with both caution and the burden of truth.

You nodded, your silence affirming that, despite your uncertainty, you needed to hear every word.

For a long moment, Sam’s eyes remained fixed on the ink-smudged pages, the ghostly script of his past gazing back at him in silent testimony. “One of the first letters was angry,” he began, a wry, self-deprecating chuckle trembling at the edge of his words. “Not angry at you. Never at you. I was furious at the situation. I remember that first night in my bunk, where all I could think was how I’d have to let you down. I thought I should’ve fought harder, found a way to make it work. So I wrote it all down and thought that I would probably be out soon enough to give you them in person.”

His fingers tightened around the bundle, as if the letters themselves could anchor him to a past he both cherished and loathed. “I started writing about the small, absurd things—like how the coffee on base was godawful, the jibes from the guys when I apparently mumbled your name in my sleep—which I did not, to make things clear. I even wrote about an old couple I saw on television one day and how it reminded me of when you joked that we’d be arguing over directions even when we were eighty.” His tone faltered, growing quieter, more solemn. “And then there were the letters where I just… missed you. God, I missed you so much.”

Sam’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his grip on the letters slackened, as though holding them was too painful. “And it got harder. Days turned into months, and I convinced myself that you’d moved on—that I had no right to cling onto us. But even then, I never stopped wanting you.”

He turned his gaze to you then, the glow of unsent confessions and quiet grief shining in his eyes. “And it shouldn’t matter anymore because it’s over. Or at least, that’s what I should believe. But it does. It always has.”

The wind whispered softly around you, stirring the fragile pages in his hand and carrying away echoes of moments lost to time. Your heart clenched, caught between the relief of knowing and the heartbreak of what might have been.

In one sudden, desperate motion, he reached for you. His fingers brushed your jaw lightly at first, then cradled your face with a tenderness that belied the cool night air. His thumbs, warm and steady, traced gentle arcs over your cheekbones—anchoring you both to this moment, to the years lost and the yearning that had bridged every mile of distance between you.

His eyes, dark and unwavering, burned into yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. “Hear me out, please,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent, as though the very thought of you slipping away again was unbearable. “I was a coward. I should’ve done better than that but I let fear, and everything else, win. I told myself I was protecting you, that I was doing what was best. But all I did was make it worse. I made you think I didn’t care when the truth is... I never stopped.”

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, but Sam did not wait for you to speak. His grip on your face tightened, firm enough to keep you tethered to him without causing pain.

“I love you.”

The words fell between you like fragile glass shards, the shatter of the barriers of years resonating with their fall. “Yeah, fuck this corny shit. I have loved you every single damn day since the moment I let you go. I know it’s selfish to say it now, after everything, but I just need you to know that I love you. And I’m so goddamn sorry that I ever made you doubt that.”

A shudder ran through you, and your hands clutched his wrists as if they were the only lifeline in your storm of emotions. Every syllable struck like a slow-burning flame, peeling back layers of anger, heartbreak, and longing until all that remained was the undeniable truth—him, you, and a love that refused to fade.

“Sam—” you began, but your voice cracked, the word lost to the tumult of your feelings.

It didn’t matter anyway, because before you could speak another word, he kissed you with the same fervor from earlier, as if he were a man finally allowed to feast upon the love that had sustained him in torturous silence. His lips met yours with a desperate ardour that sent shivers racing down your spine, his hands roaming to trace the soft curve of your neck and leading you to melt into the perfect fit of his embrace.

The world around you—the creaking dock, the ghostly remnants of past regrets—faded into insignificance. All that remained was the kiss, deepening with every heartbeat, as if he were trying to reclaim every lost day, every stolen hour of absence. And you, with equal fervor and need, returned his kiss. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, as if in that embrace you could mend the ruptures of time itself.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, your foreheads pressed together in the cool night air. “Please, tell me that wasn’t a mistake.”

Your fingers trailed slowly down his chest, grasping the fabric as if to hold onto the fragile promise of the moment. “No,” you whispered back, your voice tender and resolute. “This time it wasn’t.”

A slow grin spread across Sam’s face, and relief flooded his features like the first rays of the morning sun after a long, storm-ridden night. He swept you into his arms, lifting you clear off the ground to bring you closer, almost sitting on his lap. The world tilted delightfully as a rich, unburdened laughter bubbled from his chest in a way you hadn’t heard in a while, full of joy and the promise of new beginnings.

“You’re gonna make me lose my damn mind,” he crooned against your hair in a husky blend of disbelief and something infinitely tender, a softness that belied the wildness of the moment.

A breathy laugh escaped you as your hands instinctively clinging to his broad shoulders as if anchoring you both to the present. “You’re acting like I just solved every world crisis,” you teased, even as your heart pounded in its rhythmic cadence.

“Nah,” he replied, his thumb traced reverently along your jaw, as though memorizing every curve and line of your face. “Just mine.” 

A quiet ache formed in your chest at the way he looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe you were real, as if he were etching every detail of you into memory in case the universe ever dared be cruel again.

Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt, and with a voice steadier than you felt, you whispered, “I love you too, Sam.”

For a heartbeat, his lips parted as if to utter more, but before the words could spill, a familiar voice shattered the reverie.

“Hey, lovebirds! Dinner’s ready!” Sarah called from the restaurant’s back porch, her tone playful as she leaned against the doorway with crossed arms and a knowing smirk that practically screamed, took you long enough.

Sam groaned, tipping his head back. “Jesus, can I have one moment—just one?” he protested.

Laughing, you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the warm glow of the restaurant. “Come on, loverboy, before she comes out here and drags us inside herself.”

The golden light of the restaurant melted away the coolness of the night, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. As you walked back to the shack, a spark of mischief danced at the edges of your lips. You shot Sam a sidelong glance, the playful glimmer in your eyes challenging him.

“Wait a second…” you drawled, narrowing your eyes and tilting your head. “Did you—did you quote The Notebook in your big, dramatic profession of love?”

For a moment, his grip on your hand tightened, and he faltered, pigment further coloring his cheeks. “What?” he managed, his tone caught between indignation and bashful amusement.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, pressing a hand to your mouth as barely contained laughter bubbled forth. “You did! That ‘it wasn’t over’ thing—straight out of The Notebook!”

His arm looped around your shoulders, drawing you closer with a quiet, playful threat. His large palm briefly covered the back of your head as he guided you forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Say one more word about that, and I swear I will stuff you so full of oysters you won’t be able to utter a single syllable for a week.”

You snorted. “Really? That’s your big intimidation tactic?”

“Ever tried eating twenty oysters in one sitting?” he shot back, arching a brow and letting his lips twitch in a smirk. “I don’t think so. Now, go sit down and eat before I make it happen.”

Grinning, you leaned into his side, feeling the easy warmth of his arm as it draped around you. After all the lost time and shattered dreams, everything felt achingly, irrevocably right. Perhaps the years apart had only deepened the truth: the time you thought was lost might, in fact, still be yours to reclaim, as you were fated to be stuck together no matter what.

⠀

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Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

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dividers ©️ @angelremnants + @cafekitsune .

angelremnants ©️ 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

[acindra]

Dan and Phil dressed in Kuromi and My Melody themed outfits

If you'd like to see more Dan and Phil dolls, I recently made Sister Daniel and Devil!Phil from Halloween Baking Slime and Sadness Cinnamon Rolls (plus some bonus flirty pics here)

I also made dolls of My Melody and Kuromi way back in 2012.

Check out more of my creations here!

Notes under the cut

After making the Halloween Baking dolls I wanted to make more dnp dolls but had no concrete outfit ideas until I saw @danrifics 's meet and greet pics of them with Kuromi and My Melody headbands. The idea of making them in themed outfits would not leave my head so I caved and here we are.

I wanted the dolls to be a good balance of reflective and opposing of each other so they'd still look like a matching pair while being unique to their own styles, allowing for Phil's outfit to be relatively simple whilst Dan's has a lot of little embellishments. This also let Phil have a bolder light pink whilst Dan's is a very pale almost white (though both of the lighter pinks are a bit pale in the pics compared to the actual dolls, sorry about that).

Often when My Melody has head decoration she gets lop ears and I thought that'd be cute for Phil, especially because I wanted to give him a crown (give! Phil! a grape!). This is partially due to his 2024 Birthday Stream's outfit being inspiration for the doll's outfit (and a happy belated birthday to him!) in place of the cape My Melody normally has. The lop ears also reads very puppy-ish in contrast to Dan/Kuromi's kitty-ish appearance (even though both of them are rabbits).

I was originally going to give him a black heart decal where My Melody usually has a flower but it distracted from the crown so I put it on his shirt because he does like graphic tees and it gives him an additional black accessory (which was helpful because the black belt I was going to give him looked awful).

Dan has a similar heart decal in pink in place of the skull decal Kuromi normally has- I did try making the hood have the point at the top of the face but it made his curls look weird. I considered adding a pink bow as well but it looked excessive.

I had planned to give Dan fingerless gloves but they looked weird with the sleeves so instead I gave him a black bracelet opposite his earring and eventually gave Phil one on his opposing hand to match. Coincidentally those are their dominant hands.

Kuromi already has a devil tail so instead of My Melody's bunny tail I gave Phil (precious baby) angel wings. Their top half outfits are both technically removable but Dan's head is too big to actually do so. Their underwear is the other's primary colour, just for fun (though that's only visible in the wip pics)

I'm really pleased with how the hair turned out- I got Dan's fringe to listen to me this time because I used a less stiff yarn so it swoops better and Phil's got his roots visible slightly from the back. And also the only reason why Phil's doll was completed at all was thanks to @yharnamsnewslug 's suggestion I use a darker pink for the shorts instead of the same light pink as the overshirt because I definitely would've run out of yarn. I really lucked out finding the dark pink in my scrap yarn, it was just barely enough for the shorts.

I technically made these to celebrate Phil's birthday and the end of the Terrible Influence Tour but managed to finish them and take the pics just as the sun set on Feb 13 which also feels very appropriate considering all of the pink and hearts, so Happy Valentine's Day!

In honor of Valentine's Day I've included a bonus pic of them about to smooch :3

(listen it's so hard to position dolls that are weird shapes and aren't exactly stable enough to stand on their own in a kissing position i tried so hard but i only have 2 hands and i needed them both to take the picture i tried i'm sorry this is why the sister daniel and devil phil ones ended up lying down i tried i promise you i did try)

[burreauxsss]

birthdeys

background: its y/n's birthday and joe being the supportive man he is, goes over and beyond for her because she deserves it. not without y/n clocking people.

(all pics from pinterest)

notes: its almost my zodiac season!!! anyways... got a huge shoutout from this one insane tea page and my page views are up (im being sarcastic shh)

warning: not proofread.. i just made sure theres no major mistakes so any tiny mistakes please forgive me.

joe burrow x black reader smau

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: someone loves copying me...

yourbsf

❤️ 78,103 💬 19,300

Liked by: y/n_handle joeyb_9 and others

yourbsf: happy happy birthday to one of my best friends since LSU y/n_handle. i hope you have a wonderful day, live it up. 💗

y/n_handle: its too early for me to cry omg.

joeyb_9: shes crying as we speak

username_1: this post is making me jealous fr

username_2: shes so prettyy!!

username_3: now why is joe in these comments.. username_4: thats y/ns man lmaoo 😭

username_5: hbd!!!

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 719,800 💬 2

Liked by: y/n_handle bengals yourbsf lahjay_10 and others

joeyb_9: happy birthday to my missing rib and the love of my life. i love you so much, so glad we met at LSU, cheers to more years together.

y/n_handle: i love you too 🤍

bengals: happy birthday ms shiesty!!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: season 28.

yourbsf posted a story

caption: with y/n_handle

y/n_handle

❤️ 104,387 💬 20,473

Liked by: yourbsf joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: been that bitch still that bitch.

username_6: i love that cake.

username_7: that age gap though? username_8: theres no age gap, they're both 28 now.

username_9: their kids would be so cute.

username_10: ive loved her since LSU because of how funny she is.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 679,801 💬 76,200

Liked by: y/n_handle lahjay_10 and others

joeyb_9: took 28 years of blood pumping through me to get to this evening with you.

lahjay_10: ima need yall to take away joe's social media... y/n_handle: stfu.

joeyb_9: you act like this is regular.. its not.

username_11: this isnt my qb that i know..

username_12: what happened to mr shiesty bro.. y/n_handle: hes still here..

username_13: joe. if you need someone just for fun im here. y/n_handle: your in his dms, im in his bed. now what was that?

username_14: i fear she ate lmfao..

username_15: she did nottt... burrow come get your girl!!!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: thank you for my dream joeyb_9

y/n_handle

❤️ 100,000 💬 14,102

Liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: he wished there were two of me.

joeyb_9: so hot mamas. y/n_handle: thank you.

username_16: least attractive nfl wag y/n_handle: classic chiefs fans. frauds on and off the field.

username_17: yall chiefs fans need to be quiet fr.

brittanymahomes: red looks good on you, too bad the bengals orange are mid. y/n_handle: i cant say the same about red looking good on you. still i dont like you though, lets not get it twisted.

username_18: im so sick from witnessing this love!!

username_19: brittany had it coming for her...

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 954,000 💬 73,199

Liked by: y/n_handle and others

joeyb_9: pro bowl '25

y/n_handle: this picture is making me go insane.

lahjay_10: someone take away y/n's social media asap.

username_23: i need him in ways that would set feminism back 100 years. y/n_handle: me too.. me too.

joeyb_9: what does this mean.. y/n_handle: come and find out?

username_24: ms shiesty getting hella comfortable in these comments..

*load more comments*

*time skip of a year*

y/n_handle

❤️ 1m 💬 1

Liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: life completed. welcome to the world my birthday twin, eliza marie burrow 🤍

joeyb_9: our family 🧡

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

caption: going home. 🧡

note: had to give it a good ish ending. hope yall enjoy.

[ilysungho]

— ilysungho valentine’s special 💗

a/n: hello my loves ^-^ happy valentine's day! i hope you all like what i've prepared! let me know if any of the links don't work. and as always, enjoy <3 wc: 250-300 words each! contains: nsfw links, short scenarios, specific tags for each member, tags also say what's in the link, lowercase intended taglist: @antoncore @ericlvr @mari3s @dobbiesvvorld @zynz0 @kyujinii @gclhn @hanfourz @taylorluvation @txtistheloml

sungho -> link

contains: sungho x reader, not really a defining power dynamic so take it as you will, lingerie lol, dollification? sorta, use of nicknames, dry humping, penetration (p in v)

the lace laid on you like skin, perfectly fitting your body in every way, atop every curve of yours, for your boyfriend to see. sungho knew you would look absolutely stunning wearing the lingerie he picked out just for you. but actually seeing you wearing it was… something else. he was awestruck by your beauty as his fingers traced the fabric on your back, kissing you deeply.

“you look so perfect for me, better than i imagined, doll.” it had been his dream to have you wear something he picked out for you, waiting for the right moment until he gave you the gift. he had expressed to you that he wanted to dress you up like his doll, so when you agreed to it for the special day, he was ecstatic.

your breath hitched every time sungho’s fingers got close to your nipples while making out. you’d had your fair share of sex, but the timing and clothes made you feel so much more sensitive. he loved your reactions too; knowing that he is the one making you feel so good had him riled up.

he wanted to keep the pretty clothes on you, barely covering you but still just enough to entice him, hiding your private parts he so wanted to see. “get on top,” he whispered to you as he laid down on the bed. a shy smile decorated your face as you got on top of him, the thin fabric not doing much to keep your arousal a secret.

as he laid almost bare under you, you moved slowly to tease your boyfriend. the once shy smile now became confident as he smiled at you in love, following the motions into the special day.

riwoo -> link

contains: sub!riwoo x dom!reader, lingerie (again...), handjob, use of nicknames

the day had gone by perfectly, riwoo coming to surprise you with flowers and chocolate like any other typical couple, but also holding a small bag with what you thought was lingerie. and you were right as he showed you the pearly and lacey garment. what took you by surprise was how he shyly explained how he thought you would like seeing him wear one and do as you please. he guessed correctly as always, his senses always coming in clutch, when he saw you lick your lower lip, softly exhaling, "go ahead baby, change into it then."

after changing into the new lingerie, the pretty boy sat against the headboard of your shared bed. his shy face accompanied by his compact figure made him look so much smaller than he really is as you went to sit in front of him. taking a hold of his hard cock, you spread the already leaking pre-cum in your usual motions. riwoo looked at you with the prettiest of glossy eyes as you looked back at him tenderly, telling him how he looks like the prettiest little boy for you. his choice was immaculate, you thought to yourself, as his body jerked from the stimulation.

soft whimpers coming out of the short boy’s mouth gave you yet another signal that he was close to his release. he looked at you, as if asking for permission to let go, with doe like eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth. "go on love, you can come." such simple words led to your boyfriend cumming rather quickly. maybe it was the occasion, maybe it was the attire, but he was too cute not to have all your fun with for the night.

jaehyun -> link

contains: sub!jaehyun x dom!reader, blindfolding, sort of dumbification?? idk you tell me, edging

“you’re gonna be a good boy for me right, myungie?” your hand held onto his chin softly, moving his head to nod as he kept still. patiently waiting for you to touch him, jaehyun let out a soft whimper to signal an opposite sense of urgency. no matter how well behaved he was, he only had one weakness and it was to ask you for more. he was a greedy puppy after all. good, but greedy.

“y-y/n p-please… mo-more… i need m-more…” chuckling at his disposition, you finally gave him a touch where he wanted you, but it wasn’t what he expected. in the moment when he thinks you will be mean and harsh to him, you were rather soft. your delicate touches on his hardness over his boxer while whispering the dirtiest of praises made jaehyun so sensitive. he could only keep his eyes shut and endure, not that it would help much with the blindfold.

being unable to see was another reason your puppy couldn't stop himself from pleading for more. your slow touches as you sat your thighs on top of his had him wincing in pain. "you're so good, you can endure for me right? i know you want to see me wearing the pretty clothes you picked for me."

his quivering lips made you so curious to see his most likely teared up eyes, yet you too kept composed. even though it's such a romantic day, you still have to show you love to him the same way as always, because he will take what you give him with no complains. he's just that good of a puppy for you.

taesan -> link

contains: (suggestive) taesan x fem!reader, taesan likes your boobs, reader has oral fixation

putting on your best clothes for the date taesan had planned out for valentine's had you so excited for what's to come. the dress perfectly fit you, especially accenting your boyfriend's favorite features of you. well, he loved all of you, but he really would do anything to find a life to stay in your arms amongst your boobs forever.

"babe, are you ready y-" the man you thought of all day appeared behind you as you were putting on any final touches. his face showed an expression you knew all too well, one where he was at a loss of words. "you look so stunning." he simply stated the obvious as his hands caressed your exposed shoulders, slowly going down to fondle your boobs as he so loved to do.

"taesan i just got ready," you uttered, closing your eyes to the feeling of his touch. he just hummed in response as he felt more of you, one of his thumbs coming up to go into your mouth. he knew you would quiet down as soon as you started sucking on his thumb as you always did. he loved how your tongue played with him, letting him know that he literally has you wrapped around his finger.

your own hands reached up to pull him down into an intimate kiss, letting go to ask "can we just stay home?" against his lips. your lover responded curtly, a smirk lighting up his features as he shook his head and pulled you to stand up.

"we have the whole night ahead of us, sweetheart."

leehan -> link

contains: dom!leehan x sub!reader (sorta, but it can be taken any way in the vid), glasses leehan, overstimulation, thigh riding

"good girl, just like that." leehan's lazy hands guided your body on his as you rode your high out on his clothed thigh. his glasses threatened to fall of before you brought your hand up to push it back onto his nose bridge amidst the feverish kiss you shared. your swollen clit felt extra sensitive as you rubbed against the wet fabric under you, yet leehan didn't stop kissing you, his hand firm on your waist.

your movements stilled as you came back to your senses, lips still clashing, until your boyfriend’s grip moved your body on the same spot once again. “you can come once again baby, don’t stop hm?” whimpering and nodding, you gave into his command-like plea as his grip loosened to give you back control.

feeling extra sensitive, having just came, you were much more vocal than you previously were. your boyfriend liked that though, smiling as he watched you rut on him. he thought you looked so cute while doing as he says even if your just using any part of him. whether it be his fingers, mouth, dick or even abs, you always rubbed against him with fervor. he means it when he says he could only watch you for hours and be entertained, the movie playing on the tv becoming just background noises against your needy voice.

thank you for reading! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms! love you 💗 feel free to join the taglist though here!

[petermaximoffsgirl]

a little longer

summary – you celebrate valentine’s day with peter. 

content – fluff, smut; dry humping, kissing, swearing

words – 1.9k

nsfw! minors, please do not interact! 

you were still asleep when peter began to frantically zip around his room. he had thought he was being clever by hiding your valentine’s day present, but now he was afraid that he had done too good of a job. c’mon, quickie, think. suddenly, he remembered having messed with it yesterday so he could test it one last time. he quickly sped over to his jacket, which was a crumpled heap of leather on the floor, and pulled out his walkman. as he suspected, the cassette tape he had made for you was still inside. he quickly ejected the tape and sped back to his bed, clutching both the tape and walkman. 

you stirred when a gentle breeze ruffled your hair, and he grinned nervously. “shit. didn’t mean to wake you up, babe.” 

“fine, ‘s fine,” you yawned. “good morning, peter.” you sat up and rubbed your eyes, smiling at him. “happy valentine’s day.” 

peter noticed the way that your eyes trailed over his bare chest and gray sweatpants; he smirked and quickly scrambled under the blankets with you, wrapping his arms around you. “does this mean we can spend the whole day in bed?” he asked, burying his face in the side of your neck. 

you laughed. “peter, we have classes and training.” 

he groaned and kissed the soft spot on your throat that always made you shiver. “but i want you to be my valentine,” he mumbled. “we could play hooky.” 

you snickered. “from the world’s most powerful telepath? you think the professor couldn’t find us?” 

he smirked. “he might not want to find us. i’ve got a long list of things i want to do with you that might give him a heart attack.” 

you gasped. “peter!” 

he gently nipped at your neck, whining quietly when you tugged on his unruly silver locks. “i’m just teasing you, babe!” he pushed himself up onto his forearms so he could see your face, then grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “unless you’re into that.” 

you rolled your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling at him. “of course i’m into that, you idiot.” 

he groaned in delight when you pulled him in for a kiss, although he quickly pulled away and sped to the bathroom to brush his teeth. morning breath. yuck! he was back in three seconds at the most, and you shot him a surprised look. “sorry,” he said quickly. “had to brush my teeth. morning breath is nasty.” 

you frowned. “is that your subtle way of telling me to go brush my teeth?” 

shit. he hadn’t thought of that. he winced. “no!” 

you laughed and stretched, swinging your legs out of bed. peter pounced on you in an instant, shoving you back onto the mattress and pinning you down to ensure that you wouldn’t escape. “let me go!” you groaned. “peter! let me go!” 

“no can do, cutie,” he said firmly. “we’re staying here all day.” you considered his words, then tickled him. peter shrieked, his cheeks flushing as he realized that you had caught him off guard. “not fair!” 

you giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips before gently rolling him off of you. peter went reluctantly, though he refused to let go of you entirely. “it’s friday,” you began, “so how does this sound? we get through today, then i’m yours for the whole weekend.” 

he pursed his lips. “i mean, ‘s fine.” he pouted. “i guess.” 

you laughed again, then leaned off of the bed, fumbling around for something. when you sat up again, your cheeks were slightly red. “you could use some of these, too,” you said, biting your lip as you handed him a stack of what looked like tickets. 

peter frowned, then gasped when he realized what it was. “you did not!” 

you groaned. “don’t make me regret this.” 

he grinned. he had teasingly suggested that you get him sex vouchers after seeing it in a magazine, but he hadn’t thought that you would actually do it. he quickly flicked through the stack, his eyes wide as he took in some of the naughty offers. “holy shit. this is going to be so much fun!” 

you rolled your eyes, fighting the smile that crept onto your lips, and kissed his cheek. “happy valentine’s day, peter.” 

he fought the urge to try to kiss you again, instead fumbling around for his walkman and the cassette he’d made you. he fidgeted for a moment, suddenly unsure. what if you thought it was cheesy? maybe he should’ve just stolen something for you and pretended that he had scraped together the money to pay for it. “here,” he said awkwardly, holding out the cassette. “i, uh, i made that for you. if you don’t like it, ‘s cool,” he mumbled. “it’s a bunch of songs that i know you like, and some that i like because…because they remind me of you, and some that are just total bangers that you’ve gotta listen to.” 

you tackled him in a hug, kissing him fiercely. peter gasped, surprised, and quickly pulled you into his lap. he couldn’t help but slide his hands along your thighs, shamelessly copping a handful of your ass before slipping his hands under the hem of the nirvana shirt you had stolen from him. he had let you keep the shirt because he loved you, and he loved seeing you in his clothes. it drove him insane, knowing that you went to sleep in his bed wearing only panties and his shirt. 

after a wonderfully long moment, peter forced himself to pull away, uncomfortably aware of the growing bulge in his sweatpants. “babe, i’ve gotta stop,” he groaned. “unless you’re planning on gettin’ frisky, i’ve gotta stop.” 

you bit your lip, then smiled mischievously. “fuck it. let’s stay in bed the whole day.” 

his eyes widened. “seriously?” you nodded; he whooped and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “fuck yeah!” 

you laughed at his obvious joy, then blushed slightly and slid your palms along his chest. “how do you want me?” 

peter groaned, subtly rocking his hips against yours. you raised your eyebrows in response, then slowly ground down on his lap. he gasped, shuddering at the friction-induced pleasure. “fuck, that feels so good.” 

his head spun when you kissed him again, running your fingers through his unruly hair and tugging gently. he whimpered quietly, deepening the kiss as he slid his hands under your shirt again. you moaned against his lips when he rested his palms on your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding against him. 

to his surprise, he quite enjoyed the languid pace. he still adored the pure rush of speed, but there was something intoxicating about experiencing you slowly, and it was like every moment lasted forever when he wasn’t tearing through life. it was incredibly sexy, watching you take your time to get off using him. part of him was screaming that he should go faster, but for the first time, it wasn't what he wanted. it was the sweetest torture he had ever known, and he was very aware of how desperate he must look, rutting against your clothed heat and whimpering against your lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed. 

your breathy whines were the most beautiful song he had ever heard, and he felt a warmth spread through his chest as he relished the intimacy of the moment. who knew that dry humping could be so hot and so romantic? he was certainly glad to discover that previously unknown truth. 

regrettably, he had a feeling that the moment was getting rather close to ending. he groaned unhappily and forced himself to pull away from your lips, his breathing labored as he looked up at you. you looked so beautiful that he almost creamed his pants, and he reigned in his orgasm with a tortured moan. 

“i’m close,” he gasped, his eyes never leaving your swollen lips. “i’m so fucking close, ‘m sorry.” 

you whined quietly, still rocking your hips. “so am i,” you whimpered. “can i go faster?” 

peter groaned in delight, burying his face in your neck. “use me however you want.” 

his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he frantically left a trail of kisses along your throat as you began to move faster, chasing your high. he could feel the juices from your pussy leaking through your panties and making a mess on his sweatpants, and the sensation drew him even closer to the edge. you gasped in bliss when the tip of his aching cock rubbed perfectly against your clit, and he moaned shamelessly at the torturous pleasure. 

“you’re doing so well,” he whispered, his head spinning as he looked up at you. “c’mon, babe, i know you wanna feel good. you gonna come f’me?” 

you nodded, your eyes squeezed shut and your face screwed up in pleasure. he could feel the moment your orgasm hit you, and the sensation of your soaked cunt pulsing against him was entirely too much. he buried his face in your neck again and wrapped his arms around you as his entire body vibrated and he came hard, his cock twitching in his sweatpants as he made a mess of himself. you kept rocking against him, riding out your high, and the friction was painfully pleasurable. mercifully, just as it was starting to border on too much, you slowed to a halt, breathing heavily. 

“that felt so good,” you gasped, running your fingers through his hair as you trembled in his arms. 

peter moaned in agreement, gently nipping at the soft flesh of your neck. “so, so good,” he mumbled. he kept holding on to you as he flopped over on the bed, grinning as you yelped in surprise and clung to him. “stay with me,” he whispered, gently stroking your face. 

you kissed him softly and slung your leg over his hip, pulling your body flush against his own. “i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. 

warmth filled his chest as time stopped having any meaning. he could stay there with you forever, and he was convinced that it would be absolutely wonderful. at some point, you fumbled around in the blankets, eventually holding up his walkman and the cassette he’d made for you. he kissed your neck as you pressed play, and he smiled at the faint sound of jim croce’s singing. “i know, ‘s kinda cheesy,” he said, “but i move so fucking fast all the time, and i…i don’t want to whenever i’m with you. i like going slowly, experiencing everything for so much longer than i normally would. i…i really like waking up next to you, knowing that i get to be with you.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “you know, if i could stop time, i’d freeze it every moment we’re together, just to keep you close a little longer.” 

he felt a brief twinge of panic when he saw tears gathering in your eyes, but he was reassured when you pulled him in for another kiss. “i love you, peter,” you whispered against his lips, pressing your forehead against his own. 

he grinned at you. “aw, i love you too, cutie.” he kissed you again, uncomfortably aware of his rapidly hardening cock. trust him to ruin the romantic moment by wanting to stuff his dick inside of you not even five minutes after humping you like a cat in heat. 

to his relief, you gently palmed the bulge in his sweatpants, teasingly applying sweet pressure; he moaned shamelessly. “round two in the shower?” he grinned again; you didn’t need to ask him twice. 

[teddypines]

Aquarium Date

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summary: Sammy and Y/N going on a date to the aquarium after a hunt and some alone time in the car.

Sam Winchester x Gf!Reader, Fem!reader, Dean Winchester x Reader platonic.

MDNI! 18+ if you do read it i'm not responsible.

Warnings: P in V, unprotected, handjob, fingering, teasing, lots of kisses, pet names, dirty talk and a little degrading if you look just right. Car smut.

Note: This is a long one, like long, longest fic i have writen. I just really like Sammy and needed a little more then what tumblr had to offer. I'm a little sorry for traumisising the whale shark and Baby.

Words: 4233

Art/Pictures from pinterest, put together by me.

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The hunt ended earlier than planned, which was overall a good thing, but they still had the motel room for 2 more days so Dean said they all deserved a little break before finding a new hunt. The town they stayed in had an aquarium nearby. Sam thought it would be fun to take Y/N to the aquarium, have a little fun day out, just the two of them. Have a proper date since at least three weeks. Sam even begged Dean if he could take the car just this once. Only for Dean to be difficult about even saying yes.

“No, Sam, you can go by bus or something! You are not taking Baby to an aquarium on a date. I don’t want any hanky panky in my car or for her to be stolen or something.” Dean answered as he looked at Sam and Y/N giving him puppy eyes. “We promise not to do anything dirty in your car.” Y/N Said before Sam continued the begging. “Or for Baby to get stolen. It’s just easier to go by car than by public transport. Please Dean! Just this once! We promise to not do any ‘Hanky panky’ in the car, on the car or to the car. We won’t touch your Baby.”

Dean groaned as he looked at Sam and Y/N, why did his baby brother and his girlfriend have to go on a stupid aquarium date? and why is he thinking about letting them take his precious Impala? Dean sighed and slowly nodded his head. “Fine, but no sex! And at least bring me to the cinema.”

And so Sam and Y/N went to the aquarium, dropping Dean off at the nearby cinema, in the Impala and the promise to Dean that they would do anything dirty in his car.

Y/N paid for the tickets as Sam tried to figure out how they could see everything as efficiently as possible. Once they had the tickets Sam took Y/N's hand and led the way towards the first fish tank. The two of them had a wonderful time looking at all the sea and water creatures. Y/N marveled over the clownfish and other tropical fish the aquarium had and Sam was just happy to see Y/N this happy. The way she smiled and how the blue lighting hit her gentle features made Sam feel something deep inside. She was his and he was hers. Even with all the danger and chaos they faced almost every day. Sam smiled and hugged Y/N from behind as they watched the little fishies.

Y/N liked the hug, but she could feel Sam’s excitement against her lower back. she leaned her head back against Sam’s shoulder and looked up at him. “Do I make you that happy?” She whispered to him. Sam hummed in answer and pressed his lips against her neck. “Owh so happy, darling.” 

“Does that mean I can pick out a plushie in the gift shop later?” Y/N asked, a cheeky smile on her face as Sam let out a small groan, expecting something else when Y/N started to tease him. “Fine, but just one!” Y/N beamed and quickly kissed Sam’s cheek before going to the next tank. One filled a octopus and deep sea fish and plants.

<------------------------------------------>

The two of them walked underneath the under the sea tunnel, hand in hand happily looking at the sharks and the turtles who swam about and beside them. Sam smiled at Y/N and slowly squeezed her hand three times, telling her he loved her. Y/N grinned and squeezed Sam's hand back. 

“Owh look, a nurse shark!” Y/N pointed out and pulled Sam towards the glass. “Did you know that nurse sharks don't have to constantly swim to breathe?” She looked at the nurse shark who swam over the bottom of the tank, nestling into the sand for a nap. A few other fishes swimming around the shark. “No i did not know that, but now I do thanks to my very own tour guide” Sam teasted as he looked at the nurse shark. “They kinda look like catfish, but better” He commented, studying the whisker like things around the shark's mouth.

“Yeah, definitely better than catfish, but lemon shark over nurse shark.” Y/N turned her head to look at Sam and smiled. “But you are better than any shark.” She said before giving Sam a gentle kiss. Sam wrapped an arm around Y/N as they kissed. Pulling away after a little while. “But whale sharks are your favourite.” Sam added to which Y/N nodded excited, happy he remembered her favourite shark. She leaned up again and gave Sam another big kiss. Sam had the biggest smile on his face after Y/N pulled away from this kiss. She was his normal in a world full of chaos, she was his everything.

 “Don’t look at me like that.” Y/N whispers at Sam after they walk a little further to look at some of the turtles. “Look at you like what? Like I am in love? Like I have the most beautiful girl walking beside me, loving me?” Sam smirked as the words he just said registered in Y/N’s brain. She went bright red and covered her cheeks. “Stop~” Sam leaned down and kissed Y/N’s cheek. “Never.”

<------------------------------------->

Around lunch Sam and Y/N got some sandwiches at one of the outside food trucks and sat down near the ray bay where multiple families were having lunch too. Some of the children marveling over the ray's they got to touch in the little touch tanks. Even a few of the parents and teens were touching the ray’s. One girl even screamed when she felt the slimy scales of the fish. It made her parents sigh and take her away in embarrassment. 

“I kinda get her, fish scales do feel weird for the first time.” Y/N commented as they watched the mother calm down the little girl. “Yes, but she did scream rather loudly, not that I fault her. Dean can scream louder at nothing.” Sam answered before dipping his fry into the ketchup. “Kinda feel bad for the parents.” Y/N nodded agreeing with Sam, but luckily no one gave the family mean looks or was upset that the peace was disturbed for a moment.

“After this I want to touch the ray’s too.” Y/N announced to Sammy. “Do I get a say in that?” Sam asked as a joke. a cheeky smile on his face. “No, I am going to touch all the fishies I can touch. Fish deserve love and affection too.”

<----------------------------------------->

After seeing every show and every fish, shark, turtle, sea star, ray, moon fish and bits of coral did Y/N and Sam step inside the gift shop. Sam looked at a few of the funny snow globes that were on display as Y/N got distracted by one of the biggest plushies she has ever seen. “Sammy? Can I have that one?” She asked while pointing at a big whale shark plushie on top of the highest shelf. Sam followed Y/N’s finger and his mouth slowly fell open. “Ehm…” 

“Please, Sammy! Please! it is like the most amazing plushie ever and it’s my favorite shark!” Y/N argued as she looked up at the whale shark. Sam sighed and nodded his head “Alright love, you can have the whale shark plushie.” He answered and carefully wrapped his hands around Y/N’s waist. Sam lifted Y/N up so she could grab the plushie. Y/N quickly grabbed the shark, already loving the soft fabric and the plush feeling. She giggled when Sam put her back down on her feet, looking like a little kid with how big the whale shark plushie was.

“Dork” Sammy said to Y/N as he placed a hand on her Lower back. “Yes, but I am your dork.” Y/N answered as she carried the plushie to the register. The two of them waited in line and Sam just had to tease her a bit. He leaned forward and put his head on Y/N's shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist and the whale shark. “Tired?” Y/N asked as she shifted a bit to let Sam lean on her more comfortably. Sam nodded his head, seeing all the creatures and walking around for a few hours tired him out, but he still had a few plans he wanted to do that day. “Yeah, but I'll be fine after a snack and a cup of coffee.” “We’ll get coffee and some snacks at the little restaurant after this.” Y/N as she stepped forward in the line.

Sam slowly pulled back from Y/N and looked around nervously. “Actually I had a different idea…” Y/n looked back at Sam. “Different idea? Like what, drive to the nearest Macdonalds?” 

“Well not exactly. I was more thinking of going to a little to-go cafe I saw around town yesterday and then finding a nice spot to park, just you and me.” Sam Explained his idea, rubbing the back of his neck, hoping Y/N would like the idea. She nodded her head and thought about the idea. “I like that, let’s do that.” Y/N kissed Sam’s cheek. “But first you have to pay for my whale shark.” 

<-------------------Smut starts here--------------------->

“You really needed to get something with jam on it, didn’t you?” Sam asked more in a teasing way as he watched Y/N eat an Iced bun. “Like you want Dean to be mad at us.”

“But iced bun, Sammy.” Y/N whined as she struggled to not spill any of the jam in the car. Her lap filled with napkins. Sam rolled his eyes and took a bite of his cinnamon roll. 

The two of them found a little quiet spot by a lake, it’s safe Sam checked. They got chocolate milks and some pastries and the big whale shark was happily laying in the back seat of the car. There was a silence between them but it was a comfortable silence. Y/N finished her iced bun and whipped her hands before grabbing the to-go cup with her hot chocolate. she happily sipped it as Sam munched on his cinnamon roll. Without a warning or even the idea that this could happen Sam suddenly felt Y/N’s free hand on his thigh. It didn’t bother him at all, sometimes Y/N just lay her hand on his thigh. 

Sam knew Y/N loved physical touch, this was her way of showing she loved him without using any words. Sometimes they both needed it to ground themselves in this crazy supernatural world they lived in. It was innocent and normal, at least that is what Sam thought right now. Not knowing what Y/N was planning.

It stayed like this for a little while until Y/N’s slowly went a bit higher on Sam’s thigh. Sam’s breathing hitched a little and he turned his head to face her. “W-what are you doing?” He asked only to get no answer in return and a light squeeze on his thigh. “Y/N we promised Dean not to…”

“Dean doesn’t have to know. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Y/N answered as her hand slowly went more towards the growing bulge in Sam’s pants. “Besides Dean has the motel room and getting one for ourselves is expensive. Highly unnecessary even. We have the car and I'm on a safe day.” Her hand went even higher up Sam’s thigh.

Sam groaned as Y/N’s hand was placed over his jean covered cock. “But we have to make sure not to make a mess in the car.” Sam said only to turn bright red by Y/N’s answer. “Then you better make a mess inside me.”

“Back seat..” Sam growled before taking Y/N’s hot chocolate and placed it in the cupholder next to his. “Now!” 

Everything was a bit chaotic as the two of them struggled to get into the back seat of the car. Then the elephant in the room, well the whale shark in the back seat, needed to be dealt with. “Soo…” Sam hinted at the plushie. “Leave it.” Y/N answered as she pushed Sam back onto the plushie. Her hands slowly ran over his stomach lower and lower towards his cock. Sam’s hands gently squeezing her hips, liking that he could hold onto her like this, her hip dips making it easier to hold her. Owh, how Sam loved those hip dips and thighs to hold onto. Y/N slowly unbuckled Sam’s belt and unzipped his pants. “Wait, this is okay right?” Y/N asked as she hesitated a bit. Sam quickly nodded his head. “Very okay, sweetheart.”

Y/N carefully pulled Sam’s jeans and boxers down, slowly freeing his semi hard cock which bounced up. She carefully wrapped her hand around it and started to stroke in long and slow tugs. Sam’s head fell back against the whale shark plushie as he groaned. The way Y/N’s hand felt around him was amazing. His cock hardened in her hand as she continued to stroke him. collecting the little bit of pre-cum that was already leaking from the tip. Using it to make her strokes a bit more fluent. “That’s it sweetheart, just like that.” Sam tried to praise and encourage her, wanting her to know she was making him feel good. As this went on Y/N slowly started to grind against Sam’s thigh. Feeling herself getting wet from the praise and the friction between her legs.

“Come on sweetheart, arms up for me” Sam ordered as he let her hips go to take off Y/N’s shirt. His eyes dark with desire for her. Y/N listened and let Sam’s cock go for a moment. She held her hands above her head as best as possible in the car. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Sam purred as he leaned up a little to take Y/N’s shirt and bra off. “There you go, beautiful. all pretty and perky.” Sam said before kissing Y/N’s neck and shoulder, slowly going down over the curve of her breasts. He latched onto one of her nipples and gently started to suck, making Y/N whimper just the way he liked. 

Y/N struggled for a bit as she tried to jerk Sam off again, with the way he sucked her nipples made her mind go foggy. Of course Sam had this effect on her even when she wanted to please him first. “You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Sam smirked around her nipple. Y/N nodded with a small whimper in answer. She thought this was answer enough only to gasp when Sam made an attempt at slapping her ass. “Words, sweetheart” Y/N only whined, now receiving a slap on her thigh. “Come on, love, want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Feels… feels good S-Sammy.” Y/N answered finally using her words. Sam smirked again and quickly took off his shirt before helping Y/N with her jeans and panties. It was a bit of a struggle to take their clothes off in the back seat of the car, but they managed. They were lucky that the backseat had enough space for hanky panky.

“Safe day, right?” Sam asked before running his hands over Y/N’s naked body. Her hand slowly wrapped around his cock, finally getting to touch him again. Gently jerking him off, her thumb running over the slit of his tip. “Safe day” Y/N answered. “So no mess.” “Yeah, no mess, at least no mess for Dean to see” Sam teasted Y/N, before moaning once Y/N squeezed his cock out of nowhere. “Don’t kill the mood” She pouted. Sam only laughed and grabbed Y/N's wrist. pulling her hand away from his cock. “Want to feel you too, pretty girl.” 

Sam reached between Y/N’s legs and groaned. “Jeez, sweetheart, so wet for me.” He started to circle her clit at the same pace she was jerking his cock earlier. Making sure to find the spots that made Y/N roll her eyes back and moan like the little slut that she was for him. his other hand was still holding her wrist, enjoying the way she looked right now.

"Sweetheart?" Sam asked, only for Y/N to nod her head as she relished in the feeling of Sam’s fingers on her clit. “Need to feel you.” Sam groaned. Y/N looked Sam in the eyes and nodded her head. “Want to feel you too, Sammy. Please” Hearing these words Sam let go of Y/N’s wrists and took his other hand away from her pussy. Both hands went to her hips and he carefully lifted her up a bit. Minding that she didn’t bump her head on the car roof. He lowered her onto his cock. the tip poking at her clit.

“Want you Sammy. I want to feel you inside.” Y/N bit her bottom lip, not waiting for a reaction or comment from Sam. She just lifted herself up, reached down between them to grab Sam’s cock and positioned it near her entrance. Y/N giggled a bit once she saw the way Sam looked at her. Sam let himself lean back against the whale shark, his hands gently cerasing Y/N’s hips and thighs. Ever so slowly Y/N let herself sink down onto the tip of Sam’s cock. Moaning at the sinful stretch Sam’s tip already gave her.  

“Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart, take your time. No need to ruSH! Fuck! Y/N!” Sam tried to be gentle, but then Y/N suddenly sat down all the way onto his cock. “Fuck Y/N!” Y/N gave Sam an innocent look. “Did I catch you off guard?” She asked. “YES! a good kinda off guard, but still!” Sam answerd as Y/N giggled at his reaction. She loved it when he got like this.

Y/N slowly started to bounce up and down on Sam’s cock, starting off slow and long. Before going faster as time goes on. Sam let out the prettiest little whimpers as he held onto her. The way the fabric of the whale shark plushie lay against his back and the warm feeling of Y/N’s pussy being around his cock made this whole ordeal feel so good to him. Y/N on the other hand wasn’t thinking at all. Sam’s dick reached places inside her no one else could reach. She saw stars and her mind started to fog up again. She moaned once Sam reached up to hold her left breast. 

“Fuck baby, just like that” Sam praised “That’s a good girl. Such beautiful noises.” Sam groaned loudly as he felt Y/N squeeze her cunt around his dick at the praise he gave her. “Agh… Shit, do that again. Come on, be a good girl and squeeze my cock with that pretty pussy.” Y/N clenched her thighs around Sam’s side and her cunt squeezed his cock again. “Fuck, just like that pretty girl.” Y/N placed her hands onto Sam’s chest, needing the support to keep herself upright. Even with Sam guiding her up and down with his free hand. Y/N still felt like she was losing all the feeling she had in her legs. All because Sam was so thick inside her.

Sam started to notice that Y/N was struggling and tapped her thigh. “Sweetie. want to change positions?” He asked in a gentle but loving tone. Wanting her to know her not riding him wouldn’t be the end of things. Y/N stopped going up and down and sat silently on Sam’s cock. She didn’t answer Sam, just staying silent for a moment. “Sweetheart, it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.” Sam reassured before Y/N slowly nodded her head. “Please.” Sam smiled gently and carefully lifted Y/N off his cock. To the best of his ability he turned the two of them around on the back seat. Gently laying Y/N down onto the whale shark. Seeing how she nuzzled her head into the soft fabric in a way to ground herself and pressed her ass up a little so he could easily slip inside again. 

Sam helped her by lifting her hips up a little more and letting her right leg hang over the edge of the seats. Sam grabbed his cock and alined the two of them again. “Ready, baby?” He asked, just to make sure Y/N was still with him and okay with everything. “Yes.” She answered with a doopy smile. Sam slowly slipped inside Y/N’s pussy, making her moan. He pressed his chest onto her back and placed his head over her shoulder. “such a sweet little cunt and all for me.” Sam groaned into Y/N’s ear. He started to roll his hips against her, slowly thrusting In and out of Y/N's pussy.

Y/N could only moan as Sam slowly fucked into her. “Sammy~” She whined to which Sam answered by gently kissing her neck, leaving a few hickeys to mark her as his. “That’s it love, moan for me, let out all the pretty noises for me.” Sam growled as he tried to pick up his pace. He put his right leg on the floor of the car and used it to steady himself and to pound into Y/N’s cunt. Y/N felt her legs shake a bit as Sam pounded into her, it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t gentle.  “OWh… Fuck~ Sammy…” Y/N moaned. “Sammy~ So good.” Sam nipped at her neck and put his hand on the side window. “That’s a good girl. Such beautiful noises.” He praised Y/N when he felt her squeeze her cunt around his cock. “Oh, are you close, baby? Are you ready to cum for me, to feel me fill you up?”

Sam slowly slipped his left hand underneath Y/N and reached back between her legs. Finding her clit was easy with how much it had swelled up. He started to circle her clit at the same pace he was fucking into her, working Y/N’s body to her limit. “It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me. relax and let go for me baby.” Sam cooed, his thrusts slowly getting more rigid. He reached that spot inside her that made Y/N see stars once again. “Sammy! Fuck, agh… Sammy please. Ghn, please.” Y/N moaned and whimpered as Sam continued to fuck her and rub her clit, chaising her high as well as his. “Fuck! Y/N/N!” Sam groaned and before they knew it Y/N came while screaming Sam’s name. 

Sam fucked Y/N through her orgasim before coming inside her. Y/N whimpered as she rode out her high, feeling how Sam was filling her up with hot cum. Sam let himself fall onto Y/N’s back, cock still twitching inside Y/N’s dripping pussy. Both of them smiling as they lay there on the whale shark plushie on the back seat of Dean’s car. The car they promised to not have sex in. 

Sam smiled and carefully pulled his cock out of Y/N’s cunt after a few quiet moments. Pulling out made her whimper even if Sam was so gentle. He carefully pulled away the hand that was on her clit away, only to appear on her cunt again to collect the mix of his and her cum. Just admiring the way it looked. Sam then slowly helped Y/N shift around again and helped her lay down on his chest so she could take a breather, not wanting to tire her out or hurt her by going too fast. “Breath with me, sweetheart, nice and slow, in and out. That’s it, good girl.” Y/N lay on Sam’s chest for a little while, calming down and breathing just like Sam told her. The whale shark behind them is now traumatized for life.

<-----------------------Smut ends here---------------------->

After getting cleaned up the best way they could and making sure nothing got onto the car Sam helped Y/N get dressed and back into the passenger seat. They went and got new hot chocolates again on the way back to the motel. Sam held Y/N’s hand as he drove, making sure she was okay and taken care of. Y/N could only smile as she sipped on her now cold hot chocolate and watched the road, her mind still foggy, but a good happy foggy.  

The car turned off once Sam parked the car in front of the motel room. “We’re back sweetheart.” Sam whispered to Y/N, who just tiredly nodded. “Want a nap…” She whispered. “I know, love. I’ll get you to bed in just a moment.” Sam answered and then quickly left his seat behind the wheel. He firstly got the whale shark from the back. He opened the passenger seat door next and handed Y/N the plushie. “Hold that for me, love.” Y/N nodded and held onto her plushie. Sam carefully scooped Y/N up and carried her bridal style back to the motel room. Kicking the car door close behind them. 

“Hey Dean, we’re back.” Sam called out as he carried a very sleepy Y/N inside. He gently lay Y/N onto their bed and tucked her in. Not caring about the stay bra that lay over one of the chairs or the big mess in the room. He kissed Y/N’s forehead and then looked at Dean. His brother looked disheveled and his hair even more of a mess than usual. Dean gave Sam a weird look about the whale shark plushie. “She really wanted to have it, okay?” Sam explained to which Dean nodded. “And you couldn’t say no.” 

“sooo… how was the movie?” Sam asked a little unsure about if he wanted to know what just happened in the motel room. “It was fine.” Dean answered shortly. They both nodded slowly, both staying quiet for a moment. “Beer?” Dean asked. "Definitely." Sam answered.

[deadbeatbirdmom]

Happy Valentine's Day my fellow RWBY fans. This should be a day focused on love. Which is why I'm going to talk about something that's been troubling me for a while. This isn't about any single post, and I'm not singling anyone out. I'd put this under a read more cut but I think it's important enough not to do that. Scroll down for TLDR and a poll.

One of the common courtesies of tumblr etiquette is: don't tag hate with things like a ship tag or character tag. Or should be common, but let's face it, it's more like uncommon.

A good chunk of tumblr users who I end up blocking are those who post hate in tags like the 'Bumbleby' tag, or 'Yang Xiao Long' tag (it'd be the 'RWBY' tag too, but I don't often go there and rarely post in it). No, it's not toxic to block people, it's how you control your tumblr experience. It's how I avoid seeing hate, or try to.

But there are some tumblr users who I don't want to block but also end up putting hate in the tags: some of my fellow fans. It's not intended the same way as those who do it out of spite, but the end result is the same: your fellow fans end up seeing stuff they might prefer not to.

There's another rule, an old one that predates tumblr: don't feed the trolls. Don't give them attention. Please delete anon hate rather than answer it, although I definitely understand how trolling trolls can be fun. Just please don't tag it with the main tags or you'll do the anon's work for them if it's hate about a ship or character.

I see all too much fan art around that gets far less engagement than posts trying to fight back against hate (and unfortunately share the hate at the same time, especially when it's something from elsewhere like reddit or twitter). If you like the art, don't only hit that heart button, reblog it too!

RWBY fandom isn't dead, but we do need to do our part to encourage artists to make and share more art. Likes alone don't help the art get in front of more fans. I don't think everyone looks in the tags to find art, some will rely on those they follow reblogging art. This goes for sharing fic too! And giving fic writers comments (and kudos on AO3).

This is an appeal to keep negativity out of the main tags. I'm not saying you can't post whatever you want, just when it comes to tagging: please spare a thought for your fellow fans who are incredibly tired of negativity. If all else fails, maybe include a tag that can be added to filters? 'Wasps' for posts about Bumbleby hate, maybe?

I don't know about anyone else, but if I wanted to see hate and get angry, I'd be on twitter or reddit. I check tags here on tumblr to find fan art, and to see fellow fans talking about how much they love RWBY and its characters and ships, and find interesting theories and analysis.

I'm also not entirely sure how tumblr works with followed tags and words mentioned in posts. Do untagged posts still show up if the word appears in the post? Does that mean breaking the word with a backslash or something to avoid it showing up? I don't know, perhaps something to consider.

TLDR: please don't feed the trolls and don't tag hate with main tags. Show RWBY fan artists and fic writers some love and reblog their posts, and comment on fics!

One last thing: a poll to find out if I'm an outlier and posting hate is actually normal in this post-twitter world.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hii! Could you please make Kirk Hammett getting mad with the reader because she's teasing him so much, and ended up fucking her until she crying of pleasure. Adding maybe hairpulling, spanking or rough oral, something like that. Thxx💕💕

Warnings: smut, teasing, oral (m receiving), spanking, hair pulling, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kirk sat beside you at the table, across was James with his woman, all having pleasant conversation while Kirk desperately tried to ignore your hand moving up his thigh.

You’ve told him countless times that you weren’t big on fancy dinners, the dressing up and the acting proper, it was all just annoying and too much. For the most part Kirk listened and understood, he liked treating you but if that’s not treating you he wouldn’t do it.

James didn’t care because he didn’t have to, and it wasn’t a suggestion to Kirk so much as he called him earlier that morning and said “I got reservations, meet us there” and he hung up.

One fancy dinner wouldn’t kill you, right?

No, of course not, but it might just kill him.

Your hand moved higher and higher until you were palming him through his dress pants and he was gripping his fork so tight his knuckles went white and he had to bite his lip so hard it bled a little.

Kirk did everything to keep quiet and the dinner normal, but the couple across from you knew what was happening. James was having his fun watching but his partner was more than happy to not say anything and just talk with Kirk and you, occasionally kicking James in the shin to silence his giggling.

Kirk was quiet the whole ride home, not even glancing in your direction. He didn’t even open the door for you when you went to get in his car.

You stared out the window, arms crossed over your chest as you thought about the punishment you’d get for your little stunt when you got home.

He pushed your face into the pillow, arms having already given out from under you. With the way he was snapping his hips into yours your back was forced to arch, ass held in the air by his calloused hands, stinging and red.

“Couldn’t just sit pretty for one fucking dinner? Not one?” He demanded, emphasizing his words with his thrusts. “Fucking bitch.” He spat, smacking your ass again.

“M’sorry, m’so sorry.” You babbled between moans, clutching the sheets beneath you in a tight grip.

Kirk grabbed your hair in his fist and yanked you back. “You’re not sorry, not even a little, are you?” You smiled at him and shook your head, tears streaming down your face and you snuggled softly.

He felt a little bad for treating you like this, but you loved it, he knew you did, so he let go and continued to ram into you.

Your moans were muffled by the pillow, Kirk’s cock was angled to perfectly hit inside you over and over. Your body was heating up, clenching around Kirk. He groaned lowly, hips losing their rhythm as he neared his own high.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, kissing up your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there while a hand went to rub your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came on him, his own cum spilling into you with a few guttural groans from him.

He let go of you and you face planted into the pillows, giggling softly while Kirk rolled onto his back. He pushed and poked at you until you looked at him. “You’re not done.” He said, voice breathy.

You looked down and saw he was getting hard again. You smiled at him and shimmied down the bed to be level with his dick, wrapping your hand around the base and gingerly kissing the tip before bringing it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over his slit.

You wanted to tease him some more but that didn’t pass with him this time. He grabbed you by your hair and forced you down on him, choking you and making you gag. He used your head as a fleshlight, groans filling the room and mixing with your strangled noises.

“You’re so good to me, love, so fucking good.” He mused, arm under his head. Your jaw ached and drool slipped out the corners of your mouth and dribbled down your chin. His eyes closed and a low groan left him as he came down your throat.

You pulled away and wiped your mouth, coughing while tears rolled down your cheeks.

Kirk sat up, cupping your face in his hands and thumbing away your tears. “Open up.” He said, you stared at him blankly for a moment. “Open your pretty mouth.

Your eyes widened, realizing what he was really requesting. You opened your mouth and let him see the cum still mixing with your saliva, never mind the mess you wiped on your arm.

He tsked, shaking his head. “Naughty girl, couldn’t even do one simple thing?”

[fashionteahouse]

Hi how all is well!

I was wondering if I could request a Paul x Reader x Quil?

Reader is Bella's twin sister, but no one knew until she showed up to Bella & Edward's wedding. She goes to a pack bonfire on the beach one day with Jacob and Paul and Quil end up imprinting on her and they talk then a year later they decide to do it with reader and they're gentle with her because of their wolf strength and but she calls them Papi & Daddy and their wolves love it and they go hard like Bella and Edward did on their honeymoon and maybe she ende up pregnant with twins and they're both the dad?

hello all is great ! hope all is well with you as well and you sure can 💜 hope you enjoy :)

doves in the wind - paul x reader x quil

Rubbing your sister’s arms, you tell her to breathe. You understood why she was nervous. Bella was never a crowd pleaser.

Charlie, your father was ready to walk her down the aisle. Renee, your mother, kissed her on the cheek and you follow her after giving Bella one last hug.

Watching your sister clutch your father’s arm, you couldn’t help but feel happy for her. You look at the groom, his smile was bright as he stared at the bride who was making her way towards him.

Yes was the word of the day.

“Wait..You’re Bella’s sister?”

“Yes. Twin sister.” you would answer.

They would widen their eyes with a gasp before saying, “Bella has a twin?!”

You nod, “Yes.”

Suddenly, you feel a cold hand. You flinch and you give Edward an apologetic look. He doesn’t seem worried about it as he displays a kind grin.

“Bella wants you to meet someone.”

Standing outside, a tall and handsome man is next to your sister, he has an arm around her shoulder.

“Y/N..This is Jacob.” Bella tells you with a smile.

“Oh nice to meet you! She talks about you all of the time.” you say with a warm smile as you go to shake his hand.

You laugh as he used his free hand to pull you into a hug.

He looks over at Bella who’s under his other arm, “You’ve been telling your sister about me?”

“Jake, you’re my best friend. Of course I have.”

He nods. You catch the sadden expression before he then asks you, “So. How long are you going to be here in Forks?”

You shrug.

“I came for the wedding but…I really miss dad.” you whisper the last part to Bella.

“There’s no rush for you to leave. I know how much you miss it here.” Bella says.

You nod with a smile.

“If you’re staying longer, I can show you my neck of the woods.”

You see Bella playfully roll her eyes at Jacob’s statement and he asks a cheerful but questioning what.

She doesn’t say anything and just gives him an amused look.

Jacob then looks at you, long enough to make you squirm a bit.

“That’s super freaky…You two look so much alike.” he says.

“Duh.” you and Bella say in sync.

“Never mind. That’s freaky.” he says.

You chuckle and ask, “So, what’s so good about your neck of the woods, Jake?”

“Oh, too bad Bells will not be here. But, we’re having another bonfire this weekend…Do you like fun?”

“Of course.” you shrug.

“It’s true. She’s like the total opposite of me…She’s more outgoing…Has more friends.”

“Bells, stop it. We indulged in fun and reckless activities-“

“Okay, shush you’re saying too much.” she says.

“Bella.”

You all look at the voice. Edward is now back outside as he’s waiting for Bella.

“Alice wants to get to ready to say goodbye.” he says.

Bella turns and gives Jacob a big hug. Jacob held her tight.

“Just…Stay true to you, Bells.” he says.

“Jake…”

“I mean it…I mean it.” he says quietly. She looked down and gives you a hug.

“Take care of Y/N. Please?” she whispered as she looked behind you. He looks at her before you saw a youthful expression when you turn your head, he nods.

She was gone as she was following Edward.

“You’re staying at Charlie’s?” he asks and you nod.

“Cool. I’ll just pick you up, alright?”

“Okay. Just please don’t let it be boring. I’m the type of person who will leave a function and find the next thing.”

Jacob rolled his eyes with a light laugh, “Trust me. You’ll have a good time”.

You dressed comfortable. Sitting in the car that he had no problem telling you that he got up and running, you felt a sense of serenity as soon as the Welcome to La Push sign came into view.

You both walk side by side in the sand. The fire was already flaming and you pick up the pace, wanting to feel the heat on your hands.

Jacob was warm, but you didn’t want to hold his hand.

People were there, which made you walk faster onto the beach.

The set of bold eyes that looked into your direction, didn’t bother to look away. You stumble over your feet before readjusting your posture.

“I see clumsiness really do run in the family after all.” Jacob teases and you roll your eyes a bit as you hold up a hand, “Not too much, Jake.”

“Come on, let’s get some food. You hungry?”

You were damn near starving. Everything smelled so good.

You were holding your plate as you reach for a dish.

“I helped make that.”

“You cook?” you ask.

The man with the bold eyes nod.

You then grin a bit to poke fun, “You can’t cook.”

“I can so.”

“We shall see.”

“Alright. Go ahead.” he says and puts some on your plate.

You sat next to him but Jacob made sure to sit on the opposite side of you. He didn’t like it.

“It’s good. Good job.” you say after swallowing. A handsome smile stretched across his face.

“I told you.”

“Alright. You can go now.” Jacob says with annoyance. It was like he was talking to a fly.

“What’s your problem, young one?”

Jacob gives him a nasty look that made you hide your smile.

“Paul, I’m not letting you corrupt my best friend’s sister.”

“……Are you talking about Bella Bella?”

Jacob ignored him and drank a soda.

He looks at you instead, “Bella has a sister?”

“Twin…Sister.” you simply answer. You tried to keep your cool as his eyes weren’t shy as they were greedily looking at you and only you.

“Dayum. Carbon copies indeed.” he says with a smile.

“I heard twins.” you hear and you immediately turn around. A warm smile crept on your face. He seemed kind. He seemed happy.

“Y/N, Quil. Quil, Bella’s twin.” Jacob waved off.

Quil nods and is extra close. A surge of emotion flowed through your veins as you wanted to hear everything that came out of his mouth.

“You seeing someone?” he asks plainly and Jacob squints his face and tries to keep distance between you two discreetly, “Quil, come on.”

You chuckle as Jacob pulled you away. Eventually, you let yourself succumb into the dancing and talking to others who were there.

Bella told him to take care of you and he didn’t need Quil or Paul to push up on you.

Jacob kept you close as you listened to the stories. They were inspiring, some made you think. You were grateful that you were invited to such event.

You found yourself around Quil. Paul did grab your attention as well. Soon, you both were away, down by the rocks and talking through the night air.

“I was gonna leave.” you say at the waves.

“No.” they both say and you laugh.

“But…” emphasizing the but for them not letting you finish what you were supposed to say, “I miss my dad too much to leave. Happy?”

“Very.” Paul boldly stated. You were intrigued in his body language.

“More time to hang out.” Quil inserted.

You look at Quil with a chuckle, “And what should we do when we hang out?”

“Hm..I have an idea. We can get to know each other.”

“I already know you.” Paul boredly says to Quil.

“We get to know Y/N.” Quil says lining his eye contact steady towards you. You shyly look away with a breathy chortle.

“Y/N. Let me take you back to Charlie’s.” Jacob’s voice says.

“I want to stay.” you say.

“It’s getting late.” he breathed out.

You cross your arms as you lean against the rock.

“Come on. I can take you back.”

“It is getting late.” Quil says. You give him a slight bit subtle sad look at him before you look at Paul as he speaks.

“We’ll see you later.” Paul says with confidence and you think about the interaction with them as you half listen to the songs on radio as you look out of the window.

The moonlight reminded you of them. It was like doves in the wind, the high that you got off of being around them made you feel melted inside but in a good way.

You father was thankful that you have decided to stay longer. You were thankful that Jacob invited you out more often.

Billy started to expect your presence.

Jacob wasn’t answering the phone. You were very bored. He always answered so you were confused.

You knock on the door to his home. Billy answered.

“He’s not home, Y/N. He’s at work.”

“Oh..”

“You can wait here for him, if you like?”

“Um…I’ll probably come back from the beach if that’s okay?”

He nods and tells you that he will see you later.

You walked slowly, kicking some rocks along the way.

“Y/N!”

You turn around and smile. You rush towards them. You were happy that he brought you into a warm hug.

“Hey, Paul.” you say into his chest.

“What were you getting into?”

“Nothing. Jake’s not home.”

“You wanna come over? Quil is there.”

You nod eagerly.

Quil crushed you into a hug as soon as you walked through the door.

As you all sat on the couch with you in the middle, you look at them with each turn of your head.

“I think I remember.” you say quietly.

They asked if you remember the imprint story from the bonfire.

“Tell us what you remember.” Quil says.

You display a thinking expression.

“An imprint is more than love at first sight…It’s what holds the shapeshifter to the Earth like gravity.” you say slowly.

“What would you do if you found out a shapeshifter imprinted on you?” Paul asks.

You shrug and smile a bit, “It sounds cool. You don’t have to go through the horrors of blind dates just to find your soulmate.”

They both found this amusing.

“You’re my soulmate.” Quil drops. You look at him with an unserious look but Paul says it as well.

You freeze. They didn’t want to wait any longer. Their wolves didn’t wait any longer.

“Hypothetically…Does this mean….?” you say slowly.

“We shapeshift?” Quil finished your question as he leaned back on the couch. You nod woodenly.

“We’re shapeshifters. Both of our wolves have imprinted on you.” Paul adds in.

You don’t say anything for a long time. Both Quil and Paul held their breath and looked at each other as you stood up.

“Can I see?”

“See what?” Quil asks.

“You and Paul’s wolf. Just so I know you two aren’t fucking with me.”

They looked at each other again and both rise up. Taking you into Paul’s backyard, you turn around once you saw them unbutton and slide off their shorts. Your heart pounded.

You hear a small but harmless guttural sound, which makes you slowly turn around.

You couldn’t look away. They were beautiful. You looked at the wolf that had chocolate brown fur with a lighter tint in the face. You looked at the silvery wolf.

You knew just by looking at them, you wouldn’t have a worry in the world.

Deciding to take things slow, you three decided to be friends. But, the stares weren’t friendly. The heated face that was displayed on you from being around them, weren’t friendly.

Paul being the bold one, took you stargazing and asked if you wanted to be more than friends. You thought of the fun times together. You agree.

Quil asked you on his own time. It was sweet. He gave you a necklace with a chocolate brown wolf charm on it and asked you. You agree.

In the past, you heard about three people being in a relationship or someone having two boyfriends. It wasn’t awkward with you, Paul, and Quil. It was as if it was meant to be like that.

Jacob wasn’t happy.

In your room at your father’s house, his fists were bawled up.

“Y/N. They both don’t have to be your boyfriend.”

“It’s nice.” you defend.

“You can make one of them be your friend, your brother, your protector….God, Bella is going to kill me.” He says as he paced a bit.

“I tried being friends with them, but we have feelings for each other.”

“What if one of them gets jealous? Hm? Did you ever think about what if they get into a pissing contest and hurt you in the process?”

You shake your head as you couldn’t think of them hurting you on that level.

“Whenever I want alone time with either one, they happily let me. There is no jealousy.”

Jacob scrunched his face.

“Besides….My sister ran off and married a cold one. I wish she would try to come at me.” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Your father was happy that an entire year had went past.

You were too.

He met someone in the process, Sue Clearwater.

She was very nice. You already have been around her children Leah and Seth due to being involved with Paul and Quil.

The soft hum of the television was something that none of you were paying any attention to.

“None of us are virgins. It should be easy right?” you ask in a low voice.

“Babe, with our strength, we still have to be gentle.” Paul says. You nod.

“We won’t break you.” Quil says. You chuckle lightly.

Your felt a soft hand on your chin. You look at Paul. You meet your mouth with his. Kissing him was always so nice. He kissed you as if he were trying to learn every crease and crevice of your mouth.

You break away and look to Quil. He’s patiently waiting. You smile a bit before capturing his lips with yours. Kissing him was breathtaking. He kissed you as if he needed your mouth to breathe.

You break away from him.

You didn’t want either of them to feel left out. You use both hands to hold the nape of their necks as you guide them to your mouth.

All three of you were lip locked. Tongues and lips were everywhere but still moved in sync. You hold both of the side of their cheeks as your eyes were closed enjoying the three way kiss.

You broke away. They both smiled a bit at you.

You kissed Quil with your arms around him as Paul was behind you, kissing your neck and feeling on your body.

Pleasure was dripping all over you.

Your underwear was being shrugged down your legs by Quil as Paul had his hands and mouth on your breasts. Your brain was mush. Quil then glided himself against you while standing behind you with firm hands on his hips. Paul sucked and licked the puffy breasts that were in his face.

Your head rest back on Quil’s shoulder as everything was happening all at once.

Quil was laying with his back on the bed as you were climbed over him, it was his turn to feast on your breast as Paul got ready to slide into you from behind.

They made you feel so good. So loved. So important.

Running your fingers through Quil’s hair you encourage him as his mouth was talented and made you wetter for Paul to slide in and out of you, “You make me feel so good Papi.” you moaned out and lean down and claim Quil’s lips.

You look behind you at Paul’s heated face, his bottom lip was under his teeth as he gripped your hips, “You too, Daddy.”

Paul’s thrusts became harder as Quil sucked harder. Your moans turned into sharp pants and groans as you were consumed with them.

Quil takes your hips in his hands and move them back for Paul to continue to pound into you. The bed rocked and squeaked to the point, you thought that the bed would give out. You weren’t scared, the thought of it giving out turned you on even more.

Quil was on his back as he told you to ride him. You do so as your hands were firmly on the headboard. You move your hips into tight circles with Quil’s hands greedily feeling all of you.

You make sure to stroke and lick Paul as you whine out.

Quil was quickening his thrusts and you knew that it meant that he was about to cum.

Caressing his face, you lean forward onto his chest as you press a kiss before whispering, “Don’t pull out, Papi.”

With a grunt and grip on your skin, Quil busted his load into you and you both moan out together. You both moan out at the sight of the creampie that was made.

Paul grabbed you up, inserting himself in you. You moan out with a slight grin as the extra lubricant made it so much easier for him to pump in you.

Your legs were over his shoulders as you shuddered out, he kept going with strong pumps. His hands grip the headboard for his strong hips to continue. He grunted and groaned.

You squeezed your eyes shut when your insides pulsated around him.

“Do you want me to pull out?” Paul panted. He was about to come as well. You shake your head eagerly.

“No. Please don’t, daddy.” you moan out and with a loud groan, he shot his load deep inside of you. It was the best feeling that you could ever feel.

Soon, you heard the sound of cracks. You peak up and Quil chuckles.

“You broke the damn headboard Paul.”

“Oh, well.” he says as he lays beside you in a pant.

You shakily stand up from throwing up.

A hoodie was over your head as you self checkout tests to take. Your period was two weeks late.

“I’m sure.” you say on the phone, speaking into a three way as you look at the table. You didn’t know how your father was going to react.

Paul and Quil were ecstatic.

Charlie looked at the three of you. You wanted to take his gun and do the job of shooting yourself just so you could escape his gaze.

“They’re her imprints, Charlie.” Sue carefully explains.

“But who’s to say who’s the father?” Charlie says as he rubbed his forehead in a stressed mood.

“Either way, we’ll take care of it.” Quil says happily.

Charlie throws his hands up a bit, “Kid, of all the things I’ve seen…This tops it all off. And I’m a cop, mind you.”

“They’re in love. At least you know that she won’t have to be alone.” Sue says.

“Now, this baby…Which one is the father?” Charlie drilled.

You look at the them both.

“Jesus.” Charlie whispered before walking out.

Sue helped with the checkups since she worked at the clinic.

The ultrasound was finally completed and you were ecstatic.

Twins.

“You gave us a baby for each of us.” Quil swooned.

“We don’t know for sure.” you say with a slight chuckle.

They were attentive and caring during your pregnancy.

Often getting into debates of who should have the most time with you. You mediated, both of them listening to your inputs. It would start again when they would fight over who should cook for you when you were hungry.

Paul persuaded you to move in. Quil moved in right after you.

It was nice to call something your home and truly mean it.

Your father, was iffy about it, but he was just glad that you weren’t going back to Renee. He was still able to see you.

As bizarre that he thought of the situation, he learned to accept that it’s what made you happy and fate was the thing that conducted you to this point.

He just couldn’t wait to meet his grandchildren as he saw the glow on your face.

You were about to get in the shower, you smelled the food cooking.

A splash of water fell down your legs and onto the floor.

“Quil! Paul!” you yell.

They both were there and Quil was faster, lifting you in his arms as Paul started the car.

You whine and moan as the pain started to increase.

“They’re coming! I can feel them.” you say as you clutch to Quil in the backseat.

“It’s okay! We’re almost there.” Quil cooed to you.

Smiling down at the squirming set of twins, Sue had let you know that a paternity test had been performed.

“I’m telling you, there’s one for each of us.” Paul says.

“Hopefully…That would be really nice.” you say.

As Quil cooked, Paul got the mail as you rocked both babies and cooed at them.

Paul ripped open the envelope with a smile.

“I told you.” he says.

You look at the papers.

Quil picked up his child, Paul picked up his child. You beam with happiness. You felt higher than doves in the wind. Everything was completed. You couldn’t have been more happier.

[fujii-dlc]

this game is going to make me implod.e

‘FAMILY MEMBEEEEERS’ NOT ALLIESSSSSSS

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[lilreidgirl]

Do I wanna know?

Summary: You and Drew are best friends, but you want more. What happens when you get invited to a day out on Drew’s friend’s yacht and get more?

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, thigh riding, daddy kink, nicknames used (princess, baby, little lady, good girl…), kissing, alcohol (beer), swearing, no use of (y/n), reader wears a skirt, shy!reader, pining amongst friends, English is not my first language, if I forgot anything; please let me know!!

WC: ~2.4k (no idea how that happened)

A/N: I got inspired by this photo so I wrote this at like 2 am and I’m posting it now at 5 am, this is a mess, gn my loves (NOT PROOF READ, SORRY) (also this is my first fic about Drew so yeah)

When your best friend, Drew Starkey, invited you to a small get together on his friend’s yacht, you were more than willing to go. You and him had been friends since years, getting to know each other through mutual friends and suddenly you were eating take out with a b-list celebrity every other night.

You twirled around in front of your full body sized mirror, watching with amusement as your skirt twirls with you, the ruffles bouncing as they fluttered in the wind.

“Wow. Really doesn’t take much to get a smile on that pretty little face of yours, huh?” Drew chuckled as he watched you spin around.

Startled by his voice you stopped your little turns, looking at him with a small playful glare when the dizzy fog finally cleared from your vision.

“I’m just a happy person. You should try it sometime” you shot back, but you knew it was no use. Drew was great at talking, arguing, whatever. He was great with people in a way you just couldn’t figure out for yourself.

But honestly? You were fine just standing on the sidelines watching him do his thing, waiting for him to abandon that and come talk to you for a bit.

You had been fine with it.

Lately every time he laughed and grinned at one of your sarcastic comments and every time he stared at you like he was a theoretical physicist and you had the answers to string theory, you couldn’t help but want more. Couldn’t help but want that “best friend” status to be upgraded to “girlfriend”. Hell, you even dreamt of being called his wife.

For now though, you were just going to try and enjoy the day on a luxurious boat.

Soon you found yourselves in the car. You clicked on random songs on your phone and sand along to the “wait, this is the best part, shut up”’s before yet again changing the song as Drew drove to the harbour, admiring the way you seemed so enthralled by the different songs and music.

“Would love to continue listening to your big world tour concert, little lady, but we’re here,” he announced once he’d gotten the car carefully parked.

Excitedly, you jumped out of Drew’s car, watching as he did the same before you both made your way closer to the water where many ships floated atop the sea.

At the same time, you both spotted Drew’s group of friends, waving at them as they saw you two as well.

You’d gotten to know them a bit but the amount of group hangouts you attended, didn’t really allow you to form a strong bond to any of Drew’s friends.

What can you say?

You’re just not a people person.

You’re a person person.

A Drew person.

You squashed the ridiculous thought, giggling it off before you checked that your outfit was neatly in order.

Upon seeing you inspecting your clothes, Drew leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath tantalizingly brushed against your ear and neck as he spoke, “You look amazing, baby, don’t worry.”

As you reached the boat, the smile you had shared for a few enchanting seconds came to a sudden end.

“Hey, Drew!” Various different voices greeted the both of you and you both returned the favour with just as much enthusiasm.

One of the guys, the one whose yacht it was presumably, invited everyone aboard.

Your eyes flitted to everything around you, spotting a few seats, some complicated looking boat equipment and random day-to-day fun stuff lying around.

The smell of fish and sea breeze filled the air and your nostrils, but that scent quickly evaporated when Drew stepped next to you, finally finished with catching up with his friend and was now holding out a beer bottle for you to take. His cologne took over, overwhelming your senses. Something you were definitely not complaining about.

You accepted the beer from him, taking a sip before handing it back to him and watching as he repeated your action of drinking from the bottle.

Your gaze drifted to his Adam’s apple as it bobs when he took gulps of the alcoholic drink. He lowered the glass container from his lips, putting his strong bicep right in your line of sight.

As embarrassing as it is to admit you could have almost moaned from just looking at his muscly arm.

He must have taken off his shirt sometime between helping you up the steps on the side of the ship, his hand securely wrapped around your thigh to keep you from falling, and when he seemingly appeared behind you as you admired your surroundings.

Then your eyes found his chest, strong pecs priding over his abs that seemed carved from the very marble that Michelangelo had used to sculpt David, each muscle defined with an almost perfect precision to it.

Just before you could take a good look at his black swim shorts hanging off his hips and hugging his beefy thighs, his voice called your name.

“Hey, come on, picture time,” he reiterated what he had said when you were still zoned out.

“Oh. Okay,” Throwing your thoughts back into reality, you watched as everyone made their way over to the discussed upon place where the photo would be taken.

“Who wants to set the timer?” A girl, who you’d forgotten the name of, asked.

Something with an F? L? A? Who cares.

“Not it!” Was called by everyone but you, your face quickly morphing from a surprised look of “who the hell still uses ‘not it’?” to an accepting face that you were in fact “it”.

The girls and boys all took their places on the netting of the boat. The 5 people in front of you got ready to pose for the group photo.

Efficiently, you adjusted the tripod so that the camera of the phone pointed perfectly towards the centre of everyone.

You bent down, looking at the screen of the mobile. You saw Drew depicted by many pixels, your thighs clenching when he moved his hips up to readjust his position on the midnight blue blanket that lay sprawled over the rough nylon net.

Fuck, he was perfect.

Of course, you fixed your hair one last time before pressing the white button on the right side of the device, starting the 10 second countdown until the picture.

Swiftly, you made your way around the tripod, and plopped down onto the free space between a dark haired guy, you’ve come to know as Matthew, and Drew. You smiled sweetly at the round circles on the back of the phone as Drew slung an arm around your shoulders.

Once the photo was taken, everyone scattered and the usual chatter was back. You ran up to the phone and you looked at the image.

Well fuck.

Drew looked absolutely freaking ethereal.

His sitting in a reclined position with one leg bent and the other stretched out, manspreading, almost made you go feral. He was smiling widely toward the camera, his impossibly bright grin attracting all the attention in the photo.

His body looked like a dream. For a moment, you thought maybe you were dreaming, if you were you would hold onto the memory of the photo, even if it was just a dream, for the rest of your life.

God, pining for your hot best friend made you sound so so pathetic.

The thought that what you were experiencing was just a dream was snapped in two like a twig when Drew came up from behind you and flicked your bare back.

“Ouch!” You exclaimed, a frown forming on your face.

“‘M sorry, princess,” he swung his arms over your shoulders, holding on to you from behind like a koala would his mother, peering at the screen in your hands.

“Did it turn out good?” He asked casually, acting as if he didn’t see how your face was blushing an awfully deep shade of red and don’t even start to think that he missed the way you were obviously turned on.

“Yup,” you answered curtly, ducking down to be released of any physical contact with him, because you felt as if you would melt if he touched you a second longer.

“I’m um… gonna go below deck. The sun uh- it’s hitting me pretty hard right now. I have a headache,” you lied, coming up with some excuse to just get yourself somewhere where you can have your alone time.

“O…kay…” He didn’t seem convinced but that wasn’t for you to deal with in that moment. You made your way down the stairs leading below the deck of the ship, the room was nice and cozy.

With a sigh of relief you sat down on a wooden bench near the kitchen and slipped your phone out of your purse.

After a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through various social media apps you heard footsteps nearing you, causing you to look up.

Your eyes met none other than Drew Starkey himself.

“On your phone when you have a headache? Really?” He asked unamused. “You lyin’ about the headache or you just stupid?”

“Stupid…?” you offered in a quiet meek voice.

“C’mon, sweetheart, what’s the problem, huh? You don’t like my friends or something?” He questioned as he sat himself down next to you on the oak plank.

“No, no, they’re great, I just…” You really should have been able to come up with something to say but the way his forearm was flexing as it rested on his thigh distracted you.

A smirk grew on Drew’s face. “No yeah, I uh-“ he chucked as he shook his head in what looked like slight disbelief, “I know.”

Unsure of the true meaning behind his comment you averted your eyes to the floor, focusing on the swaying of the boat on the water instead of Drew’s piercing blue eyes staring intently at you.

He leaned back with a sigh, his legs spreading wider and his arm sneaking behind your back and around your waist. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”

All you could do was nod which earned you yet another laugh from Drew.

Just as you were about to persuade yourself to actually speak, you were pulled onto Drew’s lap by his arm, his hands quickly settling you on his thighs.

“Wha-“

“I know, princess,” he cooed.

You know you should have felt at least slightly degraded or mad because of his tone but the only thing it did, was make you want to clench your thighs together. Which of course wasn’t possible because each of your legs rested on different sides of Drew.

“You look so pretty today, baby,” he said, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear before moving his face down to your neck and pressing soft, fleeting, sensational kisses to the side of your collar.

Your breathing became panted and you unintentionally slowly rubbed your core along the material of his pitch black swim trunks.

“Not even a thank you?” He murmured teasingly as his kisses walked over to the area right under your ear and his large hands gripped your hips harshly, stopping you from any further movement.

“Th- thank you…” You whispered, your tone dipped and coated in your lust and arousal.

You felt a small nip on your throat that made you let out a small “Ah-!”

“Thank you…?” He muttered expectantly.

“Sir?” You tried, getting your confirmation of that being the wrong answer when a more harsh bite was left just under your jawline.

“Daddy..” you practically moaned out, the small pleasure that you got from the bites making you rut against Drew’s strong hold on your body.

“Good girl…” he praised, his face finally coming up to meet yours, kissing you softly but also at the same time with an unforeseeable force.

His fingers stopped drilling into the skin over your hipbones, letting you push your aching core down onto his covered thigh.

He broke the kiss, his plump lips and hot breath trailing over your cheek as you both gasped from air.

His hand roughly grabbed the back of your head, wrapping his fingers around your messy hair, holding you tight against him.

Immediately after, his other hand took hold of your hip again, helping you grind down on his swim pants.

“That’s right, baby, use daddy’s leg,” he breathed out heavily.

“Such,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your jawline, “a,” another kiss was placed on the corner of your mouth, “good,” he said before pecking your lips, “girl,” he murmured into your mouth before shoving his tongue down your throat.

The press of his thigh onto your bikini bottom made a perfect friction emerge against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“What about-“ you started.

“I locked the door, sweetheart, no worries.”

The way he basically read your mind made you feel even more turned on.

Your folds rubbed back and forth in your

soaking wet swim bottoms as you gripped Drew’s shoulders tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he continued to spew out praise after praise to you.

Suddenly a knock resounded throughout the room, a sudden halt coming to your despicable actions.

“Hello? Anyone in here? Why is the door locked?” A female voice asked from the other side of the door.

“One second!” Drew called before returning his attention to you.

“We’ll finish this later, yeah?” All you could do was nod, still completely dazed.

He picked you up off his lap, helping you settle back into a standing position and smoothing out both of your guys’ clothes.

With a casual smile on his face he unlocked and opened the door, spouting out some excuse for the door being locked before leading you upstairs with him.

For the rest of the afternoon, you sat, with a drink in hand, watching Drew talk amongst his friends, his eyes flicking to you every once in a short while.

Once other people started leaving and the sun started setting, he walked up to you.

“Ready to leave, princess?”

“Uh-huh,” you uttered out, standing up and saying your goodbyes to everyone that still found themselves on the yacht.

As you walked down the dock, admiring the sunset, you gripped onto Drew’s arm.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

You looked up at him with an “Are you serious?” face, annoyed at his nonchalant antics.

“Gee, sorry, okay?” He chuckled.

“I’ll make you feel good soon. Don’t worry, little lady.”

@emma-e-a

[reilemon]

Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything.  He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.  

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

[n0vazsq]

Till the day that I die | OP81 x Reader

pairing . . . oscar piastri x dyslexic!youtuber!reader

summary . . . Being dyslexic on social media may be hard, but your knight in shining armour is always there to defend you

request . . . yes!! based on this request

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . blanca soler MY WIFE and lily zneimer for couple posts!

alexavia yaps . . . havent written a smau in a while im afraid ive forgotten how </3 ANYHOW im saur happy ydek bc i dont have to edit this?? i dont have to read it 75 times for mistakes?? MY DYSLEXIC ASS CAN BE FREE!!!!! ps this is LITTERED with refrences! also ignore how i kind off didnt follow the request I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO DO IT. dechipher the captions yallselves im too lazy to do it

y/n l/n posted a new video !

comments !

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf, lando_norris and 2.2M others

yourusername grmw vlog is out!!! had so fun filsming it and we had an ella feaure included!!! (ella is y/n's dog!)

click to view all comments

y/nfan5 WOOHOO!!!!!

oscarpiastri Can't wait to have you in my arms

yourusername aww osc youre too sweet <3

oscarpiastri Only for you <3

f1_girly are those typos in the caption or am i tweaking

y/nswifeyy. They are! Y/n is dyslexic so every once in a while we get a typo or two

username1 im looking DISRESPECTFULLY

username2 how did she misspell two very easy words? girl go back to school

oscarpiastri She's dyslexic, you're not, so go fuck yourself

username3 OSCAR???

oscarloverr. I DIDNT KNOW OSCAR HAD IT IN HIM

y/nsno1fan guys IGNORE OSCAR AND LOOK AT Y/N

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, lando_norris, nicole.piastri and 2.9M others

oscarpiastri With the love of my life once again tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

username4 I CAN DO ANYTHING PLS JUST LET ME HIT

charlesleclerc Don't bully my daughter-in-law

yourusername CHARLS ILYSM

yourusername BEST FATHER IN LAW I'VE EVR HAD

charlesleclerc I'm the only one you have?

yourusername doesn't mayyer

oscarpiastri Thank you Charles

lando_norris photo credits?

yourusername up mya ss

lando_norris wow y/n i thouht we were frinds

yourusername i ony like you because we're both dyslexic don't flatter yourslef mr norris

hater2 How do you mess up the word 'yourself' so bad?

yourusername magic

oscarpiastri Do you not have a life? Or is it hating on my girlfriend?

yourusername ate

oscarpiastri Thank you 😊

username5 HELP OSCAR IS WHIPPED FOR Y/N

username6 who ISNT

username5 good point

plmvia Y/n i love you pls don't die

f1_3112 y/n ate, left no crumbs, wiped the plate clean and oscar is meh ig

yourusername i love you

oscarpiastri me more

yourusername till the day that i die i love you more

oscarpiastri MY HEART

y/n l/n posted a new video !

comments !

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lando_norris, nicole.piastri and 3.7M others

yourusername small phtotdup since my boyafriend is away at war ad is begging for pcitures </3 also a new vlog is out!

click to view all comments

username7 OH. MY. GOD. how hard is it for you to spell properly?

oscarpiastri As hard as it is for you to get a life and stop hating

yourusername gnawing at the bars of my enclisure that was hit

oscarpiastri Hit?

lando_norris she meant hot, oscar. hot

yourusername H-O-T-T-O-G-O you cna tae me hot to go!!!!!!!!!

oscarpiastri Stunning as always

oscarpiastri Zak better strap me down to the car because I am so close to booking a flight back home

oscarpiastri I've watched all your vlogs thrice

username8 my wife guys back off

oscarpiastri Uhm no?

username8 OMG OSCAR REPLIED SOS

oscarpiastri Text me please

yourusername will do

lando_norris this would've been a normal post if oscar wasn't a sappy muppet

yourusername oi leave my boyfriend alone

oscarpiastri When she defends you from haters <3

lando_norris you bring out a side in him that no one wants to see

yourusername sorry?

lando_norris you better be

username9 MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER

y/nplsmarryme gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous omg

verchstappan we're so back

oscah.pastry SHES MY IDOL

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lando_norris, yourbsf and 3.2M others

yourusername finally reunited with my beuatufil biyfriend and the love of my life <33 love you till the die that iday tagged: oscarpiastri

click to view all comments

oscarpiastri I swear to god if someone comments about the typos in the caption I will personally run you over with my F1 car

yourusername so romantic 😍

oscarpiastri All for you ❤

lando_norris till the die that i day?

yourusername FUCK

oscarpiastri It's alright I got the meaning

yourusername i hare this dysexia

yourusername LANDO I SWEAR TO GOD

lando_norris I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING

yourusername you were about to

lando_norris sigh

superyuki22 i need this in my life

username10 mother y/n feed us some ynoscar crumbs

username11 if i was oscar id have a meltdown everyday out of stress of losing this goddess

username12 this is the best love story in the history of love stories

username13 im calling it theyre romeo and juliet

ynshoee_ this is so goals what

lawsons.lawyer parasocial relationship

charlesleclerc You two are very cute

yourusername so are you and alex!!

charlesleclerc You have my permission to propose

yourusername who said i alrwady didn?

charlesleclerc Okay.....

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, nicole.piastri, charlesleclerc and 3M others

oscarpiastri Happy anniversary, my love. From sneaking glances in the school hallways to cheering me on from the paddock, you’ve been my constant through it all. No matter how fast life moves, you’ll always be my greatest win. I love you forever, always. tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

redbullb1tch max can keep his championships this is the REAL win

ynfann18 PREACH.

nicole.piastri The greatest prize Osc has ever won! Here's to many more!!

yourusername thank you mama piastri 🥹 🫶

oscarpiastri Thank you mum <3

lando_norris nothing more iconic than this relationship

yourusername not even your win?

lando_norris let's not get ahead of ourselves

oscarpiastri You said it yourself?

lando_norris well don't take it so seriously

h4m1lt0ns44 if racing is all i need to pull someone like y/n i'd be a world champion

yourbsf from delievering your notes to each other in high school to seeing you celebrate half a decade of this relationship, you two have the best relationship ever 🫶

yourusername thank you sm ml <33 hope to see you in the paddock with your f1 bf!

oscarpiastri Thank you, bsf/name!! I'll try my best to matchmake you with a driver so N/n can see you in the paddock more often

yourusername OSC

oscarpiastri Anything to make you happy ❤

lando_norris hey yourbsf

oscarpiastri Oh?

username14 THE NO.1 COUPLE ON THIS EARTH FRRRR

username15 i'm so sick i want this RIGHT NOW

username16 my fav thing about them is oscar defending y/n's dyslexia

username17 If your man isn't like Oscar then dump him

yourusername you always make me feel like the most special girl in the world, even when your life is driving 300 kilometres per hour 🥹 im so proud of you, not just for what you’ve acheived on the track but for who you are off it too 🫶 ill love you till the day that I die, my favorit boy forever 🥰

oscarpiastri You’ll always be my greatest achievement, on or off the track. I love you more than words, forever and always. ❤️

yourusername till the day that i die

fin.

 taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[sunvylovebug]

A bath together

↬Warnings: There are mentions of nudity but this is NOT NSFW, Y/N is a killer, mentions of murdering …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Gender Neutral!Reader, they/them pronouns and third person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬Author Note: He's such a green flag, such a sweet boy, I want to give Me. Crawling a big hug. Btw finally posting something that has warnings lmao.

↬Summary: Y/N teaching Mr. Crawling about something basic in the daily routine; a warm bath.

↬ Word Count: 1,435 Words

Masterlist

"Mr. Crawling please. I promise you it'll be fun! Fun? You like fun?"

Y/N's question was answered with a vigorous shake of the head. "No... Me no like. No like there. Not going."

"Please? Would you do it for me?" Of course they were gonna try to convince him that way, Mr. Crawling couldn't say no to that look after all.

It's been some days since they left that mysterious world. They went back to their usual activities like going to school and killing people, just the usual stuff for a human their age, right? They have been teaching Mr. Crawling about the human world and the routines that generally develop over time, a very important part of the daily routine is cleaning the body but Mr. Crawling was so hesitant to enter the tub, it was filled with warm water and soap, of course it looked comfy but then why was he acting that way?

Mr. Crawling stood firm in his decision. "Not going."

They sighed. "Would you enter if we did it together? Would you agree that way? You, me, together?"

He smiled and nodded, so he was throwing that whole tantrum so he could be with them. They weren't surprised really, he was a clingy being.

They took off their clothes with some hesitation, how would Mr. Crawling react? Would it be a good reaction? Now they were the one hesitating. And he noticed. "You okay?"

"I'm okay, it's just..." They shook their head. "Nothing."

Once the two were without clothes they shivered a little. "I already took a shower today, taking a bath is not necessary for me..." Y/N said to themselves as they stepped into the tub. "Your turn. Come here"

This time Mr. Crawling stepped into the tub without protest, a happy smile on his face. After feeling the temperature, he giggled, he looked happy. "Fun fun." He said, splashing a little of water.

"See? Told you it was fun... But you usually take a shower first, then get in the tub to relax, you know? The problem is that my shower is too small for someone so tall like you... I mean, this tub is also pretty small but I guess it works, not that bad hopefully. I hope you'll enjoy it." Indeed, it wasn't that big of a bathtub so they were pretty close, his cold back pressing against their chest.

He was happily listening to their yapping, not understanding a lot of course, but Mr. Crawling just liked the way they voice sounds when they're speaking to him, it was a sound that made him feel nice and warm inside.

"I'm gonna wash your hair, okay?" Y/N grabbed the bottle of shampoo, Mr. Crawling didn't understand what they meant with that but he was happy to let them take care of him. It made him feel special.

They started to gently massage his scalp, Mr. Crawling tried to eat the foam and bubbles that the shampoo produced but after they told him it wasn't food he felt somewhat disappointed, it smelled so good, how is it not something he cannot eat? "No food?"

"No, it's not food. It doesn't taste as good as it smells."

Mr. Crawling didn't get what Y/N said but he understood that he can't eat that and he was a well behaved boy so he didn't try to eat it again.

They spent a lot of time just washing his hair, making sure the tips and roots were clean, his hair got dirty when he crawled around and they wanted to take care of it for him. "Your hair is so pretty." They whisper softly.

He giggles. "Me pretty?"

"Your hair. Your hair pretty. But you're right Mr. Crawling, you pretty too."

He smiled and giggled, wanting to hug and headpat them but not being able cause of their position, Instead, he just rubbed his head happily against her neck. They took care of cleaning his body as much as possible while teaching him the basics of how to do it himself as well. He was very cheerful, as usual, always giggling and smiling, enjoying the experience, the attention he received and the gentle touches, the nice words and all the spoiling and pampering they gave him. They made him happy.

They started talking after starting to scrub his legs. "Next time I'll try to kill someone with money... Maybe we could put soft carpet on the floors or something... Your knees get bruised cause of your crawling and... I'm sure you don't feel it that much and you heal pretty fast... but I don't like seeing you like that." They gently kisses his temple, Mr. Crawling smiled and giggled happily.

Mr. Crawling He was having the best day of his life, the warmth of the water, Y/N's body heat, the pleasant aromas of the soaps and shampoo, listening to them humming while they took care of him... It was perfect.

But eventually the water turned cold and soon they got out of the tub, they wrapped a towel around their body to help Mr. Crawling dry himself with another towel. He liked that, it was soft and it smelled good. Everything in that room smelled good, it was different from what he was used to in his world.

"So? Did you liked it?" Y/N asked.

"Yes. Me like this." He nodded his head, smiled happily. "Me like you."

"Thank you. I like you too"

It was time for a new lesson; getting dressed. Mr. Crawling wasn't used to clothes and how humans dress, so they got him a new robe and some underwear. He protested a little at first, something so restrictive felt weird at first but once he got used to it he even liked it. His new robe looked a lot like the old one he had, that made him happy cause he really liked that robe.

"Me pretty, me pretty." He repeated over and over again when he saw himself in the mirror.

"Yes, you're pretty. Very very pretty."

He loved their praises, now that they were dressed and out of the tub he could hug them and give them the headpats he wanted. That made them happy too. He was so clingy. It was new to have someone so in awe of even the smallest detail about them, Mr. Crawling was a faithful devotee and Y/N a deity that he would worship for life.

"Let's dry your hair okay? We're done here."

They went back to the room, having Mr. Crawling sitting down on the edge of the bed, they were behind him, dryer in hand ready to take care of that beautiful and silky hair that Mr. Crawling had.

"This is a little loud but it's okay. It won't hurt." They wanted to make sure Mr. Crawling wouldn't freak out cause of the noise the air dryer made. He nodded and Y/N started doing their thing. The hot air felt nice, it took a good amount of time to dry all of his hair but they did it happily, Mr. Crawling felt excited and that was enough of a reason to do it.

"I'm done, what do you think?"

Mr. Crawling grabbed the air dryer and held it in front of his face, the air was moving his hair back, making him giggle. "Fun fun! Me like fun!"

"I know you like fun." They looked at him tenderly, Mr. Crawling was easy to impress, even the smallest detail could make him very excited, it was refreshing to have him by their side. "You know, I wanna braid your hair... Want me to show you something? You'll look pretty, I promise."

He tilted his head to the side but nodded gently, giving them the hair dryer back. They braided his hair gently, once it was done they made him look at the mirror.

They smiled, he was so excited. "You look pretty."

"Me pretty!" He looks at them with a big smile. "Me pretty... Thank you..."

They looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. "I should sleep now, it's getting late."

Mr. Crawling nodded, understanding their need of rest. They lay down together in bed after turning off the lights. He was hugging Y/N as if they were a delicate piece of art made of glass, something he had to protect. "You pretty... Thank you." He said against their neck.

"This could be a part of our routine... I like it, I wanna do it again."

"Again?" He asks happily.

"Yes. Not now! But tomorrow... Again"

He giggles. "Again! Again! Tomorrow again!"

They kiss his forehead. "It's time to sleep for now, okay? Goodnight Mr. Crawling."

"Night night... Pretty."

[yougavememyopia]

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"