#and i’m not even doing that bad right now!

[luveline]

Missing hotchner reader❤️❤️

hotch and spencer have to work together to look after you when things get really hard. fem, 3.3k

cw cptsd episodes and descrips of abuse

Adoption isn’t as permanent as people might think —they can give you back anytime they want. So when the oldest Hotchner started hitting you, it wasn’t that different to a previous placement, nobody was watching over you, and you were so afraid of losing your new brother that you didn’t say a word. 

You knew, reasonably, that if Aaron was to find out about how his father (your father) had been treating you, he’d report it to your caseworker or the police or somebody and you would be removed from the Hotchner household. And Aaron was the first person you’d ever met to care about you, really care, maybe even love, so you hid it all away and you told him that things were fine. You do it for years.  

You move out, you go to college. Aaron moves you into a nice apartment a few streets away from his own, and for a while, life is good. You meet his coworker, Spencer, and you get along. Spencer takes you on dates to cinemas and patisseries and he buys you cuddly plushies with hearts sewn into their hands at Valentine’s. By all accounts, things should be good. 

You can’t breathe, is the problem. Somebody has their hand raised to hit you again and you can’t do anything about it, you just have to take it, because you’re useless, because you deserve it, because you’re a drain on everything and everyone and you aren’t worth the trouble, you deserve the hit. You’re so sorry.

“I know,” someone murmurs quietly, a sensation on your shoulder. You wait for it to close around the back of your neck. “I know. It’s alright.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, barely, a breath of sound. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

But you did, you did, he was in a bad mood to begin with and you hit his glass of scotch right off the table, smashed glass and wasted drink and a bad mood made worse. He should’ve hit you by now. He’s waiting for you to sit up. He doesn’t like to hit the back of your head, but he will if you cower long enough.

“Honey,” the voice says, right by your ear, “I’m not going to hit you, do you hear me? I am never, ever going to hit you.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“I don’t care that you knocked the glass over. I don’t care at all.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Can you look at me? I promise,” —he emphasises until his voice burns— “I am not going to hit you.” 

Aaron sounds upset enough to force your gaze. You look at him through your lashes, ready to shut your eyes if this is a trick, but he has his hands flat in front of you and he’s completely still. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, so unlike himself, “I wouldn’t hit you over a glass. I wouldn’t hit you if you did it on purpose. I wouldn’t hit you if you smashed every piece of glassware in this apartment for fun.” 

He’s hit you for less. 

“Sweetheart,” he says again, waiting for a reaction you can’t give, “do you want me to go away?” 

It’s a good question. Do you want him to leave? Immediately, everything inside of you says No. He’s gonna hit you just like the last time you smashed his drink, out of the blue, ‘cos didn’t mean to doesn’t matter. But you don’t want Aaron to go. He’s the only person who’s ever loved you properly. 

“It’s okay, just hit me,” you say, staring at him, pleading with him not to even as you ask for it, “it’s my fault.” 

“Not gonna hit you,” he says, reaching for you now, even when you flinch, he holds you by the arms and he stares at you hard. 

“It’s okay,” you say. 

“It’s not okay. It won’t fix anything.” 

“I deserve it.” 

“No, you don’t.” Aaron rubs your arms in tandem, shaking his head, a trace of panic in his eyes you’d missed until now. 

It’s Aaron. Aaron’s never hit you. 

“You never deserve to have someone put their hands on you,” he says, practically murmurs, “I’m sorry I let that happen.”

“I lied to you.” 

“I know. I know you did, honey.” He shakes his head gently. “It’s not your fault.” 

“I hit the glass over,” you say, And he hit me so hard I couldn’t hear right for hours. You still remember the way it shocked you, because you’d started to expect it but you were still surprised he’d bother with such a hard hit, that he could get that angry about it.

“I thought it was just me,” he murmurs, sorry, clutching at you like he needs you to listen. “I never should’ve left you in that house, but I thought it was just me. It was only ever… me.” 

You already know —you’ve had this conversation before. He’s apologised already. 

He cups your cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re not angry with me?” 

“No. I’m never angry with you.” 

You come to yourself in fits. You’re kneeling on the floor not far from the table, the mess of glass, half still intact and cupping a few sips of scotch. Aaron’s kneeling right next to you, still in his suit, hasn’t been home long, you were waiting for him. You used your key because you didn’t want to be home alone. Today’s been a bad day. You’ve felt stringy and strange for hours and you knew seeing Aaron would set it right. That Aaron would make you feel better through force of will. 

And then you’d knocked his drink off the table and both of you had startled, and he’d said, “Wait, don’t, you’ll hurt yourself,” but all your brain heard was You. 

You. What could be said to mean more than that? 

“You’re not gonna hit me,” you whisper. 

“Never.” 

“Can you help me up?” you ask, half apart from yourself. Your head is back, but your legs won’t cooperate. 

“Where do you want to go? The kitchen?” he asks, leaning so you can wrap your arms behind his head. He lifts you up with some effort on his part, adjusting you, and leading you together to the kitchen to sit you at the island bar. “Sit tight. I’ll clean the glass, okay? It won’t take long.” 

You don’t want him to go, but you don’t wanna say no. 

Time away from him is good, in a way. It makes you remember who you actually are outside of the bad memory. It hammers home that this is Aaron’s apartment, your big brother, your number one supporter. There’s a picture of you and Jack right there on the fridge stuck by an alphabet magnet. Aaron’s never hit you before and it’s not going to change now, because he is nothing like his dad. 

He’s never really seen you act like this, though, and you aren’t excited for what he has to say next. He has a penchant for seeing you at your worst and building you back up again. It shouldn’t be his problem, but it is. 

He brushes the glass into a dustpan and unloads it into a bag, which he trashes. You watch him wet a paper towel and wipe it across the floor for the shavings. 

When he’s drying his hands on a towel, you summon the courage to apologise. “Aaron, I’m… I’m sorry. Sorry.” 

He closes his eyes. He doesn’t look much like the other Hotchner’s. He’s dark-haired like his mother, and he smiles with all kindness. You never saw anything so soft at home, not unless he was there to visit. It’s a wonder he ever bothered getting to know you, already living his life very much outside of the household, and shouldn’t he have moved on? If it were you, if there were another kid in the house right now, could you go back? Knowing how you were treated? 

“I love you,” he says. “You know that?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you think you could understand why I don’t want you to say sorry, or be sorry, because of that?” 

You smile weakly. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah? Because if Jack were in here today, and he had hit that drink over, you couldn’t have hit him. Could you?” 

“Of course not.” 

He’s mildly guilty for the example, you can tell, but it cements the sentiment in your mind and he can see that. “When you love someone, you don’t hit them. We just can’t do it.” 

“I just… just– you– I got all mixed up in my head.” 

“I know.” 

“Thought you were him,” you say tightly, quietly. 

“I know. Is that the first time you’ve had something like that happen? Like you weren’t sure where you were?” 

Your face crumples of its own accord, heat clogging your nose and throat and lining the backs of your eyes. “No… but it hasn’t been that many times…”

“The bad panic attack at work a few weeks ago, was that like this?” 

“No, that was just that I couldn’t breathe right. I– I had one with Spencer.”

Aaron frowns, but he speaks kindly, “When was that?” 

“A couple of days ago…” You stare at your hands.

“We don’t have to talk about it. But I need to make sure you’re okay.” 

“He told me to tell you, but it– I thought he’d break up with me, after, but he hasn’t, so I’ve just been waiting.” 

“Honey, I don’t think this is the sort of thing that could make Spencer break up with you. He cares too much.” 

“You don’t understand, I– I begged him not to touch me, Aaron. I really scared him.” 

With Spencer, it was late. You asked him to stay the night on a limb, and you’d forgotten he was there sleeping beside you, met him in a dark hallway, where he asked what you were doing out of bed. It’s late. You shouldn’t be up. 

His hand had settled just behind your neck. He won’t touch you there anymore. 

“If there’s something you want to tell me–”

“I want it to go away,” you say. 

“It’s not going to be that easy.” He takes a big, deep breath. “You could’ve told me this was happening,” he promises. 

“I didn’t want you to know that I– lied so much. Sometimes I can’t believe I let him do it.” 

Your tone, quiet and calm and a juxtaposition to the ache in your chest, couldn’t hurt him worse. You're familiar with the pain on Aaron’s face, how it makes him do this sorry smile, how he tries hard not to give it away. “If anyone let him hurt you, it was me.” 

“What?” 

“I knew he was unkind to you. I knew he shouted. I didn’t try hard enough to get you away.” 

“Aaron–”

“If you’re going to blame someone, it has to be me.” 

It’s ridiculous. If you hadn’t had Aaron, you would’ve been completely miserable to the marrow of your bones. He’s the last person on earth you’d blame for the way you’re feeling now, so when a tear wells in your eyes, when it hits your cheek in a splash, you let him tut and wrap his arms behind you. 

“It’s my fault,” you insist, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

“No.” 

“It’s my fault, I hit the glass–”

“No, no, it’s not your fault.” 

“I’m really s–sorry.” 

“It’s gonna be okay, honey. Just breathe. Just take a deep breath for me. I promise you I’m not mad about the glass.” 

“Maybe you should be.” 

He holds your forehead to his chin, clutching you to him, reassuring and a little too tight. “I’m not mad at you.” 

You can’t make yourself believe him. 

—

Spencer isn’t expecting to get waylaid by Hotch at Rossi’s dinner party. He can’t think of what he did wrong. You’re happy with him, clingy lately, which he loves, and as smart and sweet as ever, and work is great. Spencer’s a good agent and a better profiler. 

Hotch looks so serious that he follows him in silence, squeezing his coke neck like a lifeline. 

“I want Y/N to be assessed for PTSD, and I need to know that you’re going to support her,” he says simply. 

Spencer searches the backyard for you. You’re laying down in the grass with Jack, Henry, and Penelope. It’s getting late, barely any sunshine left, but nobody’s wanted to ruin the fun and call it a night yet. You don’t fuss as Jack throws himself sideways across your chest. 

“Did something happen?” Spencer asks. 

“She had an… event. She told me about a similar incident with you the other night. That she panicked and got confused about who you were.” 

Spencer nods. “Yeah, I– yeah. I caught her by surprise.” 

“That’s the only time it’s happened?” 

“Yeah. She’s told me a little about it.” 

“About the episode?” 

“Everything. And it’s obvious?” He enthuses it with apology, worried he’ll offend Hotch if he says something too blatant, but desperate to be honest. “Most of the time she’s this– she’s amazing, she’s like this light, and then sometimes it’s like she thinks I don’t like her? Like I don’t want to be near her, or like she thinks I’m gonna hurt her.” 

Hotch lets his eyebrows rise a little. “Yeah.” 

“She cried so much that I didn’t know what to do.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that part, she already told me you made her feel better,” Hotch says quietly. Neither of them mention what they know, how you’d begged Spencer to stay after the episode, how sorry you’d been, how desperate Spencer was to calm you down. “But if you can’t do it in the long run, you need to know now. I can’t start this with her and have you duck out halfway through. I know,” —Hotch gives him a fond smile, half-knocking the wind from him— “that you care about her, and I know it’s not my place to come to you on her behalf, but I’m going to do it anyhow, and you know why I am.” 

“What do you mean?” he says, though he knows. 

“I’m saying I think she’s going to get worse before she gets better. She’s not well right now.” 

“I know she isn’t.” 

“I trust you, Spencer. I care about you, too. But she’s going to be my priority, and if you can’t be there for her then it has to be done now... I’m worried she’s going to get really low.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says genuinely. Spencer’s not defensive, only urgent. “Hotch, I more than care about her.” 

Hotch nods. “Okay. Good, because I need your help. You have to vet these doctors for me, I have a preliminary list. I’ll send it to you.” 

“Wait, have you talked to her about this?” 

“I said we’d talk to a doctor. I promised I’d talk to you about it. She’s… I don’t know, she’s scared.” 

Spencer straightens up. You have nothing to be scared of with him, not his reaction, not his lack of support. He wishes Hotch had had more faith in him, but none of this is about him. Someone hurt you, and now you have to put yourself back together again. 

The kids have disappeared. Penelope’s climbing onto her feet and offering you a hand, but you stay laying down in the grass. 

“I really care about her,” Spencer says. 

Hotch clasps his shoulder. “Are you going, or am I?” 

“I’ll take this one, please.” 

“Sure.” 

Spencer trudges around the side of the yard, past the bench and the tables and the string lights on the patio to where you’re laying in the bluegrass, eyes nearly closed. “Is this seat taken?” he asks, nudging your hip with his shoe lightly. 

“No, sir.” 

Spencer sits down in the grass. He finds your wrist to hold. 

“You okay?” 

“Did Aaron talk to you about the doctor?” 

“Yeah, he did. You want to go?” 

“What do you think?” 

Spencer rubs your pulse. “I think it’s good. If you were having headaches, we’d go to the doctor.” 

“Headaches that make me not know who you are.” 

“Especially that kind.” 

You turn a bit and give him an amused smile. “Sorry I was too scared to say more about it.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Spencer brings a cautious hand to your cheek. He sees the flicker of hurt it brings —you don’t like that he’s careful how, but how can he not be, remembering the way he’d touched your neck and the wound it seemed to inflict in the dark— but he tries to caress it away. “I’m with you,” he says, “I care about you. I want to take care of you, as much or as little as you might need that from me.” 

Your eyes fall closed. “It might be nice.” 

“What would?” 

“To be taken care of by you.” 

“I’ll try my best.” 

You cover his hand with your own. JJ laughs across the yard, and Jack and Henry shout battle cries. Hotch says, “Jack! Not so rough, buddy!” and makes you laugh. 

“Did he intimidate you?” you ask. 

“No more than usual. He said I have to decide if I can do this with you.” 

You squirm and attempt to sit. If Spencer weren’t nervous about touching you, he’d force you back down. “He shouldn’t have.”

“No, he should. But I already decided.” Spencer finds your fingers, lacing them with his. “It wasn’t really a decision, actually. I want to do this with you, but only if that’s okay with you.” 

You nod slowly. “I already said it’d be nice if you took care of me,” you whisper, letting your face dip downward. 

He chances a kiss pressed to your temple. 

You laugh under your breath. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“Did you?” he asks, giving your back a rub like a wave. 

“It’s different. I knew what was happening to me.” 

“Angel, you didn’t have a choice,” he says, so quiet he’s surprised when you hear it. “I know you’re… What?” he asks, perturbed when you shake your head. 

“You and Aaron…” 

You never finish. Spencer can’t make you. He holds your shoulder until the tension under his hand unfurls, relaxing his touch when you decide to lay down in the grass again, quietly asking him to lay with you. 

“Be ready for Jack to use you like a trampoline,” you warn, taking his hand. 

He has a feeling Hotch will keep Jack away for a while. 

Spencer traces the back of your hand with his thumb, over and over. He’s sorry he didn’t know you five years ago, sorry you were alone, sorry someone put their hands on you. He’s sorry you learned to anticipate physical abuse in the wake of mistakes. He’s sorry he can’t take it away from you, ‘cos from the second you took his hand at that park a street from his apartment he’s been a goner, all you had to do was jump up on the lip of the fountain and trust him not to let you fall. He remembers how that felt, the zinging sparks travelling from the palm of your hand into his, the romanticism of two arms stretched apart and your slow circle. And when you fell in, you didn’t blame him, you just laughed and scrambled back out, squealing excitedly about your wet shoes. 

It’ll get better, he thinks. Even if it gets worse first. You’ll feel better soon. 

He turns his cheek into the grass and beckons you forward for a kunik kiss, nose pressed to yours, wanting to kiss you like he would if you were at home together, and knowing this is enough too. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“It’s getting cold.” 

Spencer agrees, but neither of you attempt to move. 

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[no-144444]

the grid: valentine's day!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, George Russell, Kimi Antonelli, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Max Verstappen, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Ollie Bearman, Jack Doohan, Franco Colapinto, & Paul Aron

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut and suggestiveness in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: Simple, lowkey, sweet 

He’d decided instead of trying to make it a huge deal, both of you would much rather have a slow evening. 

“What should I wear?” you asked as you sat at your vanity in just a bra and underwear. 

“That,” he whispered under his breath, his eyes taking you in. You heard him (obviously) and rolled your eyes. 

“Be serious, what are we doing?” you chuckled. 

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Wear whatever you want, no climbing or long walks tonight,” he told you. 

You gave him a sceptical look. “I hate when you plan things,” you sighed, getting up and going to your closet. 

“Is it because you’re slightly a control freak?” he teased and you scoffed at his words. 

“I’m not that bad!” you scoffed, pushing him out of your room. “Now you don’t get to enjoy the view!” 

He rolled his eyes from the other side of the door, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face. He’d planned tonight exactly how you’d want it. Your favourite romcom in a private screen with just the two of you, then dinner at your favourite restaurant, then home. He’d already gotten you flowers earlier in the day (as you had him, which made him feel quite special), and you’d been working, so he’d been busy with training. He had a beautiful necklace (one he’d let you pick out months ago that he was sure you’d forgotten) for you, and he knew what you’d gotten him already. He knew he was a nuisance to buy for, but somehow, you always got it right. He’d accidentally opened the package when it came to the door, to find vintage Australian cricket jerseys of his three favourite players. You knew him so well. 

You came out in his favourite dress of yours, looking stunning. He wrapped his arms around your waist and smiled into a kiss. 

“I have lipgloss on,” you chuckled, rubbing it off his lips. 

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged, kissing you again as you chuckled. You kissed him back, all too happy to oblige him. 

“Shall we?” you asked, pulling away and wiping his mouth of your lip gloss. 

“We shall,” he smiled, taking your hand and leading you out of your shared Monaco apartment. 

It was going to be a good night. 

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Lando Norris: airport blunder 

He’d decided he wanted to whisk you away for Valentine’s day, but the reality of you having a regular job and him having testing to do meant you at least had to wait until extremely late to get to the airport, and you were both in shitty moods, too tired to be flying to Greece at 11pm, with another hour of your delay to sit through. 

“Was this a bad idea?” he asked, his voice small and dejected. 

You turned to him and took his hand. “It was a sweet idea Lan, I love it, but right now we’re both exhausted and not in the best mood, but think about tomorrow. When we get to wake up in Greece at 2pm and have the most amazing sex, we’ll be in better moods,” you chuckled, making him smile. “Right?”

“We could also just go have sex in the bathroom?” he offered, pushing his luck and leaning in, his face against your neck. 

You laughed and pushed him back. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“I’m in love!” he argued, leaning in again and pressing soft kisses to your neck. “And you’re in a white tank with no bra,” he groaned. “You’re so hot.”

You laughed, embarrassed by his antics in a public airport. “Behave.” 

“So… bathroom?” He tried his luck again. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your resolve was failing, mostly because of the way he was kissing your neck. “If it’s clean.” 

He grinned like an idiot. “You’re perfect.” 

You chuckled. “Idiot.” 

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George Russell: double date

You had no idea that ‘bowling’ meant going out for dinner with Toto and Susie, and then going bowling with them too. At first, you were slightly put off by the idea, you had kind of been hoping that tonight would be about just you two, since you two hadn’t really had a date alone in a while. It grew on you though, watching how like Toto George was. It was weird, like father and son, and you enjoyed talking with Susie for half the night. 

As the double date came to a close, he held your hand, your head leaning on him. “I thought I wasn’t going to enjoy tonight,” you admitted. “I had a bunch of fun though.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad. So did I.”

“You’re so shit at bowling,” you teased. “How do you miss every single one of them, three times in a row?”

He scoffed, shocked at your rudeness. “I wasn’t that bad!”

“You were,” you laughed, and he wrapped his hand around your waist instead, tickling you, picking you up and putting you over his shoulder as you squealed. “George! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he smiled. “I have my plans with you,” he smirked, opening the door to your Monaco house. 

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous nelly

Since it was your first Valentine’s, Kimi was shitting bricks. He had this whole dinner planned, pulling out all the stops for the big day, but at dinner, he was more worried about how it all was than actually celebrating your relationship and each other. 

You chuckled as you looked up from your meal, only to see him staring at you, again. “Are you ever going to actually eat?” you asked. His eyes snapped down to his own meal, his face getting red as he realised you noticed him looking. 

“I-Yes,” he smiled awkwardly, finally grabbing his fork and digging in. 

“Kimi, it’s alright, you don’t have to be nervous. Tonight has been perfect,” you smiled, taking his other hand. A sigh of relief left his lips. 

“I just, I wanted this to be perfect,” he admitted, squeezing your hand. 

“It is,” you smiled reassuringly. “Once you’re also having fun?”

“Of course I am,” he smiled, finally looking you in the eye again. “I’m here with you.”

“Well I’m glad I make such good company,” you smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled before leaning over the table and planting a soft kiss on your lips. 

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Alex Albon: busy but present 

You were busy with work and so was he, but regardless he made you feel special. He sent flowers right to your room with a beautiful note, had your gift delivered (a jellycat heart and bag that you liked), and sent you photos, videos, and texts about his day, throughout the day. Small messages about his engineers, or what he was having for lunch, a picture of the flowers and the gifts you’d sent him, and even a video of him, George, and Lando going for a run together. You sent him messages throughout the day too. Tid-bits about what you were working on, photos of you with your co-workers, and a video of you dressed up for your ‘galentine’s’ dinner. As much as you both missed each other, you still made each other feel special, even thousands of miles away. 

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Carlos Sainz: freaky wit it 

“I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he groaned as you pulled on his hair. To be honest, both of you had been waiting all night for this. Quickly, he started unzipping your dress, the long navy fabric had been driving him insane all night, you had been driving him insane all night. The way you smiled at him, the way you walked, talked, ate, and drank, he wanted you so badly, and he had to wait a whole two hours to have you. Next your heels were discarded on the floor and he lifted you up and threw you on the bed, making you laugh. Now, in front of him, you were lying on the bed with a navy two-piece, and something new on your skin. Just above your hip bone, shown off beautifully by the lingerie, there was a small ‘55’ tattooed on you. “Mi Amor,” he choked out, winded by the sight of you. “Is it real?” 

“Felt you might’ve needed a reminder that someone is always in your corner,” you whispered seductively, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. “Williams blue and a 55. Like it?”

“I love it,” he smirked back, pulling your underwear down harshly. “Love you,” he gritted out, kneeling in front of you. “Can I have my dessert now, tesoro?” he looked up through hooded eyes and you knew you were soaked.

“Fuck yes,” you sighed out in content, before a long, long night began. 

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Daniel Riccardo: sweet morning

Daniel had been lying in bed staring at you for a good 40 minutes. He was just so… captivated by you. He loved to just watch you do anything (including sleep, apparently). He thought about all the tough moments you’d had together, and how you’d been strong enough to carry him during his darkest times. He thought about how you made him smile every single day, and how he never wanted it to stop. He thought about the fetus you had growing inside of you, the one that would be your kid. He was so excited, so happy, so ready for the future. Even though he was in F1, he felt complete with you beside him. 

You woke up smiling, ready for the day ahead. Both you and Daniel had taken the day off to have a nice long weekend and spend some time together. 

“Morning beautiful,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Morning,” you yawned. “Alright?”

He smiled. “Alright. Just love you.” 

You smiled at him. “I love you too,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting his roll over onto his back, you on top of him. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Happy Valentine’s day,” he nodded before kissing you again. 

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Liam Lawson: helping hand

“Ready?!” you called out to him, checking your watch again. 

“I just want to make sure my hair is good-” he started but you cut him off with a groan. 

“Liam, your hair always looks good, come here and I’ll fix it if you want,” you offered and he came running. In front of you, your boyfriend was standing wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt, perfect for your picnic date that he’d planned. He knelt down in front of you, giving you full access to his head as he wrapped his arms around your midriff, pressing gentle kisses there over your clothes. Gently, you eased the pomade into his hair, spiking it up how he liked it. “Good?” you asked, showing him by using your phone as a mirror. 

“Perfect,” he smiled, getting up and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Even better because you’re not wearing panties,” he muttered into your ear as you both walked out of the house. 

You just smirked back at him. 

You would be the death of him one day, he was sure of it. 

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Max Verstappen: not big but that’s how you both like it 

Max walked into the hotel room with a bouquet in his hand and a bakery bag in the other. In all honesty, you would’ve been fine if he hadn’t done anything. Yes, you’d gotten him some flowers and chocolates, but neither of you were very big ‘celebration’ people, and a date was just a date, which wasn’t feasible with testing going on anyways. He fell into bed beside you, a tired look in his eyes. 

“For you,” he smiled, holding out the flowers. You took them and kissed his cheek. 

“Thanks baby,” you grinned. “What’s in the bag?”

“Brownies,” he smiled mischievously. “I got two.” 

“Not willing to share with your wife?” you faked offence as he laughed at you. 

“Nope, just smart enough to know you wouldn’t want to share,” he chuckled and kissed you on the cheek again. “I love you,” he pressed a kiss to your lips, then your growing belly. “I love you too,” he whispered. 

“She’s going to enjoy this,” you smiled, holding up your brownie to cheers with his, then you both took a bite. The moan you let out could only be described as pornographic, but he just chuckled, more than happy to supply you with all the brownies you two needed. He just needed you. 

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Charles LeClerc: proposal

Charles was sweating buckets. He felt practically faint as you walked onto the beach, enjoying the dark night sky and the soft waves under your feet. It had been the most romantic night, dinner on his yacht far out with the most magnificent views, then coming back in for a walk on the beach after you got ice cream from a local ice cream shop. You were ranting about something at work, but he couldn’t focus, his mind weighed down by the small red box in his pocket. It was now or never. 

“Char?” you asked, turning to him when you saw the row of candles further down the beach. He smiled nervously at you and took your hand. Holy shit. He was proposing. 

“I have something I want to ask you,” he whispered, leading you towards the beautiful proposal sight. It was a path of candles to a beautiful circle, where you would be getting engaged. Of course that’s why he wanted you to wear your white dress, why he’d insisted on you getting your nails done this week, why he’d been so secretive. He led you into the center of the circle, his eyes already clouding with tears, and got down on one knee. “My love,” he started, taking your hand in his. “You have been with me for everything. I never thought I would be lucky enough to find someone as caring and kind as you. I love you, more than anything. You’re my biggest supporter, best friend, and favourite person, and I cannot go another day without you knowing how I truly feel about you. I want a life with you, I want a family, I want it all. The best part of my day is waking up next to you, seeing your texts and calls, seeing you at the barricade, or just getting a simple kiss from you. I want you for life, if you’ll have me,” he smiled, squeezing your hand before letting go to get the ring out of his pocket. He opened it, a beautiful cartier engagement ring, simple with a beautiful diamond in the middle, exactly what you wanted. You hadn’t even realised you were crying until you felt it fall onto your hand. You quickly brushed the tears away and smiled. “Will you marry me?” he asked, tears in his eyes but that same goofy, beautiful, Charles smile that you’d fallen in love with. 

“Yes Char, of course I will,” you smiled, pulling his face to yours to seal it with a kiss. 

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Lewis Hamilton: away from the kid for the first time

Both of you were pretending to enjoy the dinner, but both of you were feeling the guilt of leaving your 3 month old, Ellie, for the first time. Under the table you had her baby monitor up, and he had been texting the babysitters (aka Charles and Alexandria) every few minutes for updates. The meal was lovely, and yes, it was nice to spend some time with Lewis, but you could’ve done it at home. 

“I feel so guilty,” you finally rushed out as you perused over the dessert menu. 

Lewis let out a breath of relief. “Me too,” he chuckled, taking your hand. “I’ve been texting them every few minutes,” he admitted.

“I have her monitor up on my phone,” you laughed, putting your phone on the table to show him. You both laughed for a few minutes, watching your perfect bundle of light play with Charles and Alex. 

“Home?” he offered, turning to you. 

“Home,” you nodded. You quickly got out of there, Lewis paying, and then probably driving over the speed limit on the way home, but neither of you cared. You were too excited to see Ellie. 

Charles and Alex were pretty amused by the situation, and left soon after you two came home, leaving you two to put her to bed. You both held her for a few moments, soothing her to sleep as she yawned, making all those perfect little baby noises. 

“I missed her,” you admitted. “We were gone for 2 hours.” 

“Me too,” he chuckled. “It’s hard being away from her,” he sighed, bouncing her in his arms as she fell to sleep. You watched him for a moment, enjoying the sight of him with your perfect little baby. “Want another?” he suddenly said, smirking. 

You looked at him, deadpan. “Shut the fuck up.” 

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Ollie Bearman: cutie 

He’d set up an elaborate valentine’s dinner in your apartment since the past few years you’d been apart for Valentine’s, having to just facetime or text. He set up heart balloons, roses all over the place, candles, the whole shabang. Small problem, he cannot cook to save his life, so he ended up burning the food, then just ordering from your favourite place instead. You walked in after work, exhausted (and not expecting to see Ollie since he was supposed to be doing testing), and there he was. 

You ran up to him, dropping your bag at the door with a thump as you ran into his arms. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” you squealed, hugging him tight. 

“Happy Valentine’s day,” he smiled, hugging you just as tight. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” you pulled back, only to replace the hug with a hungry kiss. “Fucking hell it’s so good to see you,” you cursed, pulling him as close as you could. 

Quickly the kiss turned a bit more passionate than intended, and you ended up in your bedroom… 

It was probably his favourite Valentine’s Day ever.  

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Jack Doohan: cooking disaster

Was a cooking class as a Valentine’s date probably a bad idea in hindsight? Yes. Jack was not a chef. He could cook scrambled eggs, and he was pretty prolific with a pancake or two, but sushi? Who did he think he was? You, on the other hand, were doing amazing. Every single one of your pieces looked exactly like the head chefs’, and he felt a sense of pride blossom in his chest when he watched you get complimented by the chef. That sense of pride was quickly overshadowed by the way she would look at his sushi (basically a pile of the ingredients, he was too busy staring at you to pay attention to method).

“Want help?” you offered as you finished off your last roll. Jack hadn’t even started, too busy watching you concentrate. 

“Huh- Yeah! Yes please,” he snapped back to reality and let you take over his station, standing just behind you with his hands around your waist, his gloves long discarded. “You’re great at this,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear. 

You beamed at his compliment. “Thanks baby.”

“You look sexy in an apron,” he whispered and you laughed out loud. 

“I seriously doubt that,” you laughed, looking down at your ‘bright pink with red hearts’ apron. He shrugged. 

“It’s working on me,” he chuckled, pushing you back into him. 

“You’re disgusting,” you giggled. “We’re in public.”

“Bathrooms exist for a reason,” he smirked. 

“Yeah, pissing and shitting,” you reminded him. “I’ll be all yours once we get home,” you smirked, seductive as you led one of his hands to your thigh. “Maybe in the car too.” 

He groaned. “So perfect,” he nipped at the back of your neck. “So fucking perfect.”

“Love you too,” you teased. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice gentler than usual. “So fucking much baby.”

“I feel it,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All the time.” 

He felt quite accomplished at that. 

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Franco Colapinto: charmer 

Franco was busy with Alpine duties which meant you’d be apart for Valentine’s, and while you’d accepted it, it still sucked to not wake up beside your boyfriend. You had a slow morning before going to work, sluggishly getting ready for work, until the doorbell rang. It was the postman. He handed you a letter, and you immediately recognised the writing, quickly thanked him and ran back inside. 

My love, 

I know we’re missing this day together, but I still wanted you to know I care. I adore you. You are and will always be the best thing that has ever happened to me. You continue to surprise and excite me even after these years together, even when I think I know everything about you. I love you. Every freckle. Every spot. Every hair on your head, everytime you smile at me, every laugh, every giggle, every word. Everything. You’re my everything, and as much as I wish I was there with you, I’m only a phone call away. I can’t wait to continue loving you until we’re both old and wrinkly, but before then, I love you now, then, and always. 

My beautiful girl, my life, my love. 

Happy Valentine’s Day

- Your Franco

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Paul Aron: reuniting 

He waited at the arrivals terminal, refreshing the web page that had all the information about your flight every three seconds. Other than that, his eyes were glued to the door, prepared to run the second you walked through those doors. 

A few minutes of waiting elapsed, and there you were, clear as day, probably tired after your long day of travel, but you were there. He ran up to you, picking you up to allow you to wrap yourself around him, grabbing your suitcase with the other hand. “Hey baby,” he smiled, letting you back down again. 

“Missed you,” you said before grabbing his face and kissing him. You were anything but gentle, but he didn’t mind. He was just glad you were there. All his for a whole two weeks. 

“Missed you more,” he whispered between kisses. “So fucking much.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[asweetersapphic]

adding on my own sticker story: i’m student teaching right now, and there are a couple of classes who just do NOT care.

i started bribing them with bad pun stickers whenever they’d volunteer and answer questions:

and my engagement has TRIPLED!!! these are ninth graders!!!!! they haven’t even reached the age where it’s funny to take them, those are the upperclassmen (who also loved them at my last placement).

these 14 year olds are willing to get called cringe for reward stickers.

reward juice my beloved

i literally love when people realize positive reinforcement works like yes its so silly isnt it. but it literally works humans love juice reward too

[igotallthecake]

Pairing: Clark Kent x male bottom reader.

(FIRST STORY BTW)

A/n requests open!

Summary: you and your best friend Clark went out to go drink after a long day at work. Getting drunk and wasted. You two are now in your bedroom having a dick measurement competition, and obviously he wins. And you two had a deal. The loser has to get pounded in bed so hard all night till noon. Well buckle up for a long night of fucking.

Warnings: ass eating, top Clark, bottom m!reader, ass slapping(r!receiving), size difference, rough sex. No breaks. Face down ass up.

“C-Clark this is so embarrassing!!” You had no idea how this happened. First you two were drinking, second you guys were doing a dick measuring competition which you lost sadly. And now here you are face down ass up with ur ass out and ready to be fucked, and with Clark who had all his clothes stripped with his huge massive cock hanging right in the middle of his Luscious thighs.

Clark smiles so mischievously. Oh his stupid fucking grin, knowing he gets to pound his best friends fat ass just makes his cock jump. “Cm’on y/n. We had a deal, whoever wins gets to fuck the other. You promised..” Clark pouts. Resting his chin on your ass. “Well that was until I was the one getting fucked!!” You protested. “ please? Just this once..” those stupid puppy eyes..he always gives you those puppy eyes when he wants something really bad. But who could say no to a face like that?. With a of your eyes You sigh in defeat. “Fine..but only this once!” Clark smiles and nods.

He grabs both of your cheeks. Spreading them to take a look at your pretty pink and hairless hole.

Licking his lips he sticks out his tongue and teasingly licks a huge stripe up your ass. “Mhm..” you moan quietly. Covering your mouth with your hands. Legs already shaking from the pleasure. He licks the inside of your hole. Slithering around your gummy walls. His hand raises and landed straight on your ass. Leaving a huge red imprint. You flinch at the pain but feel a bit of pleasure from it. He gives your ass a few harsh spanks and rubs the sore spots. He continues to lick your hole until it’s nice and lose and ready for him.

“You ready for this cock hm?” His cock is as hard as a rock. He lines it up to your hole and pushes the tip in. “Y-yes daddy! I want it so bad..!” With that he slams in. Practically making your belly bulge from the force. You moan so loudly you forgot to even cover your mouth. Your eyes rolling at the back of your head. Pounding in and out of your hole so hard. Clark’s cock starts to twitch. He grunts through every thrust, getting closer and closer to cumming. And so were you “c-cummi daddy!!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head (I mean who’s wouldn’t??) gripping the sheets “cum with me baby. Cmon cum with daddy.!” Grunting and whimpering bounces off the walls. Clark’s thrusts gets more sloppy and messy. He moans cumming into your hole. Filling every crevice and painting your gummy walls with white slimy cum. He pants, collapsing beside you, chest breathing up and down rapidly. “That..t-that was so good..fuck my ass hurts though..” you both laugh and sigh, Clark grabs you by the waist. Bringing the blanket up and big spoons you. He inserts his cock in your ass and adjusted it in. “W-wait I thought we were done?!” You said with those stupid cute and confused eyes. “Cmon puppy..this is only the beginning we still have all night to go..maybe even all evening..so prepare yourself ;3..”

Bang bang bang moan all night and yeh

A/n: hey my puppy’s I hope you enjoyed that it’s literally my FIRST. Ever fic I have done in..literally ever. I hope you enjoyed and byeee

@boypied @starboye pls notice me I made this for you😞💔❤️🫶🫶

A/n; p.s please anyone try to motivate me I need it to write more bc I’m lazy

[seumyo]

I saw you wanted some requests!!

Could I request kissing Idia all over his face? I just feel like it’d be so funny to see his reaction

I hope you have a lovely day!!

idia shroud who’s doomed with lots of kisses.

Idia was losing. Badly. And it wasn’t his fault—it could never be his fault—his teammates were just outright incompetent.

“Seriously? Who runs straight into the enemy’s trap without checking the map first?” he grumbled. “Do they even understand the concept of positioning?”

You were just lying on his chest, your body nestled comfortably against his as you watched him play. Your arms were wrapped around his torso, your face just inches from his, and you hummed a quiet tune to entertain yourself.

You were so close. Too close.

And yet... Idia didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked it.

He still couldn’t believe you two were like this now—so close, so comfortable. A year ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of letting someone into his room, much less on his bed. But now... it was his favorite thing in the world.

Especially when it was you.

Well, you were always the only exception to him whenever it came to almost anything.

Idia tried to focus on his game, his eyes glued to the screen as his character dodged another poorly timed attack from the enemy. “Are they... are they actually feeding the enemy team?! Oh my Sevens, I’m going to spam report them with all of my accounts.” He let out a dramatic sigh, his hair flickering with frustrated flames.

“Amateurs... all of them.”

“You get so worked up over your games,” you tease, your voice warm and affectionate.

He huffed, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “I-It’s because they’re so bad! I mean, seriously, who rushes into a 1v4 without backup?! Do they even know how to play?!”

You just smiled, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest. He wore his teal hoodie, the one you got him just because you can. “You’re cute when you get all frustrated.”

“They’re just... so ugh. It’s like they’ve never played a MOBA before.” His fingers moved with practiced precision, his character launching a series of attacks that wiped out two enemies in quick succession. “See? That’s how you do it. If I weren’t here, they’d be doomed.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still focused on him. Idia’s heart raced when he noticed, his fingers faltering on the controller. You were looking at him with that expression again—that sweet, adoring look that made his stomach burst with butterflies and his mind go blank.

He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on his game, but it was impossible. You were too close, too warm, too... loving.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

He scoffed, his face heating up. “I don’t look cute. I look serious. Intense. Like a soldier.”

“You’re cute,” you insisted, laughing. “Very cute.”

His heart skipped a beat, his fingers faltering on the controller. He narrowly avoided an incoming ultimate skill, his character’s health dropping dangerously low. “H-Hey, don’t distract me!”

“But it’s fun.”

Idia rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re supposed to be my co-pilot. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me win?”

“I am helping. I’m boosting your morale.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right. Some morale boost...”

Before he could say more, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin.

Idia’s heart stopped.

His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. Your lips were warm and soft, lingering for just a moment before you pulled away as if it was the most common thing to do.

His character died on screen, the revival countdown flashing in bold white numbers. Idia barely noticed, his mind reeling from the sensation of your kiss.

“[Name]...?”

“I told you it was a morale boost.” How could you casually shrug this off?!

Idia stared at you. How did you two get here? How did he get to the point where he was lying on his bed with his girlfriend, cuddling up to him, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

More importantly, how did he get to the point where he was okay with it? Did he actually want you to be this close?

Your lips brushed his cheek, softer this time, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Idia’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching around his controller.

“W-What are you doing?” His voice was embarrassingly weak, his heart pounding in his chest. God, how pathetic he sounded.

You, however, didn’t answer, your lips trailing along his cheekbones. Then you kissed his forehead, his nose, and even the little mole on his temple.

Idia’s hands trembled, his controller slipping from his fingers and falling onto the mattress beside him. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his body moving on its own.

“I like watching you play,” you admitted quietly. “You get so focused. It’s adorable.”

He groaned, his head falling back against his pillow.

“You’re... evil...”

You laughed. “You’re just realizing that now?”

“You’re worse than players who don’t know how to cast their character’s ultimate combo.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You then leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You were so, so close now, your face just inches from his.

He swallowed hard. “You’re... really close...”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He never thought he’d get to this point—never thought he’d find someone who accepted him, who cared for him, who wanted to be close to him. Someone who could understand him and make him feel as though he deserves to be loved unconditionally.

And yet, here you were, lying in his arms, your warmth seeping into him, your presence filling every corner of his heart.

“I... really like you.”

He likes saying it when he feels as though he needs to say it, which isn’t often, so it holds sentiment and tenderness.

“I like you too, Idia. Really, really like you.”

Idia was doomed. Completely, absolutely, undeniably doomed... and he never wanted to be saved.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[mercurymentality]

AHHH !!!! THIS !! THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS !!! I AM CONSTANTLY SHOUTING THIS AT THE ROOFTOPS. i find myself arguing for the natural world time and time again, even to people that ARE acquainted with it (this case in particular with things like wasps, mosquitos, common nuisance or ‘scary’ creatures).

for a long specific example, a couple months ago i had an argument with my partner’s best friend’s fiancé. she’s vegetarian/pescatarian. we were all in discord & i mentioned how i wanted to learn how to skin an animal. she was absolutely disgusted with me & we got into it & at the end of the day she believes any situation of killing & eating an animal is bad because it feels pain and there is no ethical way to do it. i brought up how bugs and fish feel pain but she doesn’t have a problem with squishing a bug or eating a fish. she disagreed with me and quoted “science”. GIRL. OUT OF US TWO WHO IS THE ONE READING THE MORE SCIENTIFIC PAPERS ABOUT NATURE & ECOLOGY???? oh is it perhaps ME??? where’s your papers? did you make an annotated bibliography on it??? are you aware that not all published papers are proof or telling you the truth? because at the end of the day the scientific world is also run on MONEY so i won’t delve into all of the issues of the scientific publishing world. what i’m getting at is show me how you’ve come to discern this. i’m willing to listen, but you can’t quote that science says so when you haven’t even done a cursory scroll through something like google scholar.

i got into it further & explained how i believe even plants have some level of consciousness & feeling of pain but how it isn’t necessarily comparable to the way we experience it. & with the vast RANGE of creatures & how they experience life, i do not find myself the arbiter of who deserves to die & get eaten. everything must eat and everything must die (((she had the audacity to argue that our teeth aren’t evolved to eat meat,, AHH))).

there is no escaping causing some amount of pain in the world, whether it be to your fellow human or some other creature. i’m sorry. i believe it is good to think about how you are causing pain & making decisions to cause less. i don’t mind that she doesn’t want to eat meat, i’m not trying to force her. we do treat livestock in utterly fucked up ways & there is so much wrong with our current food systems, but there’s also so much wrong with how we treat our fellow humans. there’s a lot of fucked up shit going on!! if you don’t want to eat meat in order to boycott that, i think that’s cool. i’m not going to stop eating meat, for various reasons (one being my difficulty with eating in general) and i don’t think that necessarily makes you better than me. i want you to stop acting that because you’re willing to eat a fish over a cow (creating this animal hierarchy of “worthiness of life”) that you are inherently more good and ethical than me. that you are the knower of truth in what is right. you’re not.

now as i was saying i would love to learn to hunt & skin an animal. i want to feel the connection it brings. i like to provide care to the dead. i like to thank them for meeting me in this moment. i don’t think that makes me bad. is anyone willing to teach me?

It's always so weird to come down from the biology heavens to see what the average person believes about animals, plants, ecosystems, just the world around them. I don't even mean things that one simply doesn't know because they've never been told or things that are confusing, I'm talking about people who genuinely do not see insects as animals. What are you saying. Every time I see a crawling or fluttering little guy I know that little guy has motivations and drive to fulfill those motivations. There are gears turning in their head! They are perceiving this world and they are drawing conclusions, they are conscious. And yet it's still a whole thing if various bugs of the world feel pain or if they are simply Instinct Machines that are Not Truly Aware of Anything At All????? Help!!!!!! How can you look at a little guy and think he is just the macroscopic animal version of a virus

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you.

MHA Class 1A Head cannons

Izuku Midoriya

• He doesn’t realize it at first—it hits him like a train when someone else points it out.

• You’re patching up his wounds after a battle, scolding him like usual, and he just stares at you.

• “They care about me so much… I don’t ever want to lose them.”

• That’s when it clicks—his face turns beet red, and he literally short-circuits trying to process it.

• He starts writing about you in his notebooks, not just as a hero, but as his hero.

• Tries to confess a dozen times but ends up stammering and running away.

Katsuki Bakugo

• He freaking hates it when he realizes he’s in love.

• He notices he gets jealous when you talk to others too casually.

• He starts training even harder because he wants to be stronger for you.

• The moment it fully hits him? You defend him from someone bad-mouthing him, and his chest tightens.

• “Shit… I don’t just like them. I love them.”

• He won’t say it out loud but becomes insanely protective overnight.

• If someone flirts with you, he glares daggers and pulls you closer.

• His confession is awkward but genuine—probably blurts out “I love you, okay?! Now deal with it!”

Shoto Todoroki

• Love isn’t something he understands right away—it’s foreign but comforting.

• He notices he trusts you more than anyone else and actually wants to be around you.

• One day, you brush a strand of hair from his face, and his heart skips a beat.

• “Why does my chest feel warm? Is this…?”

• He spends weeks thinking about what this feeling means.

• His father’s influence made him fear attachment, but with you, he feels safe.

• He realizes he loves you when he catches himself smiling for no reason just because you exist.

• When he confesses, it’s simple but deeply meaningful—“I think I love you. No, I know I do.”

Eijiro Kirishima

• He’s the type to fall fast and hard, but he won’t admit it until it hits him like an explosion.

• You do something small but meaningful, like fixing his hair or remembering his favorite drink, and suddenly, he’s melting.

• His brain just goes: “Oh no. Oh NO. I LOVE THEM.”

• The moment he realizes it, he becomes the most obvious person alive—grinning like an idiot, blushing when you compliment him.

• Denki figures it out first and teases him relentlessly.

• He confesses spontaneously—probably during training or when you’re just hanging out.

• “Hey… I, uh, love you. Like, really love you.”

Denki Kaminari

• He thinks he’s just crushing on you, but one night, you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, and his heart flips.

• “Wait… why do I want to make them laugh forever?”

• He starts noticing the little things—the way your eyes sparkle, the way you say his name.

• Suddenly, every love song reminds him of you.

• He realizes he loves you when you comfort him after a bad day, holding his hand without judgment.

• He panics—freaks out and tells Sero before he even tells you.

• Ends up blurting it out without thinking—probably during a sparring session.

• “Oh, shit—did I just say that out loud? …Well, I meant it.”

Henta Sero

• Realizes it slowly but surely—love creeps up on him like his tape until it’s wrapped around his heart.

• It happens during a casual hangout, maybe when you’re laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

• “Damn, I’d do anything to hear that laugh every day.”

• His friends notice before he does because he starts bringing you up in every conversation.

• “Oh, Y/N likes that movie too!” “Y/N would totally win this game.”

• When he realizes, he’s cool about it but lowkey dying inside.

• He confesses casually but sweetly, probably while sharing a snack.

• “So… I’m kinda in love with you. Thought you should know.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

• He doesn’t see it as love at first—he calls it “a deep admiration”.

• Dark Shadow calls him out first: “Dude, you’re OBSESSED.”

• He realizes he loves you when he misses you more than he should.

• The thought of you being hurt makes his blood run cold—he becomes fiercely protective.

• He confesses in a poetic and dramatic way—probably quotes some gothic literature.

• “My heart, once shrouded in darkness, now finds solace in you.”

• He’s nervous about whether you’ll accept him, but when you do, he’s deeply devoted.

Tenya Iida

• Love is logical to him, so he doesn’t understand why his brain short-circuits around you.

• Realizes it when he starts worrying about you more than necessary.

• “Are they drinking enough water? Did they eat today? Should I check on them?”

• The real moment? You tell him to relax, placing a hand on his arm, and suddenly, his heart is racing.

• He denies it at first—tries to rationalize it.

• But one day, you cheer for him in a match, and it clicks—he wants you by his side forever.

• His confession is formal but flustered—“I have come to the realization that I love you. I hope you will accept my feelings.”

Mashirao Ojiro

• He falls first but doesn’t say anything—he’s the quiet type about his feelings.

• The moment he realizes? Sparring with you, when you pin him down and smirk.

• “Oh, I’m completely in love with them.”

• He acts normal but becomes a little more protective, a little more soft-spoken around you.

• His tail wags when you’re near, and he hates that everyone notices.

• He confesses simply but sincerely—probably under the stars or after training.

• “I love you. I don’t need anything back, I just wanted you to know.”

Mezo Shoji

• Realizes it when he starts looking forward to your voice every day.

• He’s always been reserved, but you make him feel safe.

• The moment he knows? You tell him he’s beautiful, and he nearly chokes on air.

• “They… they actually see me.”

• His confession is quiet but meaningful—probably late at night when you’re alone.

• “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this. I think… no, I know I love you.”

Rikido Sato

• He realizes he’s in love while baking—he catches himself making extra portions just for you, even when you’re not around.

• One day, you sneak into the kitchen to help, and he watches you struggle with frosting a cupcake.

• Instead of laughing, he just smiles fondly and thinks, “I want to do this with them forever.”

• The moment it really clicks is when you try his baking and get so excited, giving him the biggest grin.

• His heart pounds, and suddenly, the sweetest thing in the room isn’t the cake.

• Becomes super flustered around you after that, fumbling with ingredients and spacing out.

• His confession is adorably shy, probably over a homemade dessert.

• “I, uh… I made this for you. And also, I think I love you.”

Koji Koda

• He falls slowly but deeply, and it takes a while for him to understand his feelings.

• He realizes it when he notices the way animals react to you—his rabbits love you, birds always fly near, and even skittish animals trust you.

• One day, you rescue a tiny injured bird, and as he watches you care for it so gently, his heart swells.

• “They’re so kind… I never want to leave their side.”

• The next time you smile at him, his whole face turns red, and he gets so nervous he forgets how to talk.

• Starts getting extra shy around you, but his actions speak louder—always carrying things for you, making sure you’re safe, sitting near you quietly.

• His confession is soft but heartfelt, maybe while watching the sunset with you.

• “I… I think I love you. You make my world so much brighter.”

[nayaesworld]

Made Men

Mafia!Terry Richmond x Black reader

Warnings: MDNI, Family trauma, mentions of murder, betrayal

A/N: Happy Lovers Day y’all…I hope y’all enjoy💕

—

Summary: Focus on your studies, mind your manners, and stay away from that Richmond boy. Your aunt sang that same tune to you over and over again…but destiny had better plans. And In a world where most people experienced death long before love, how could you deny fate when it came wrapped in a 6’3 package with a crimson bow on top..made men made the underground world go round and yours just so happened to be a bit off its axis..

His very own Miss Universe. The epitome of black beauty and radiance, and he loved you. For all the things that were terribly wrong and fucked up in his life, you were that one right thing in his world that kept him grounded and humble. He loved you for all your weird quirks and interests, for all your loud laughs and giggles, and yet life was telling him yet again that he couldn’t have it all.

Why did the two of you deserve to pay for the past grievances of your families? Why did the two of you have to pay for something that y’all weren’t alive to experience? People were trying to keep her out of his reach, without knowing how far he’d go to get her. No limits. No fucks given for the lives he’d take so they had better stay out of his way. No more separation from her. He couldn’t live that way, couldn’t live without her.

She was worth the trouble, she was worth the risk.

Hands tapping lightly against the steering wheel of his 1969 Ford Mustang. Smoke billowing in the cabin of the car from his cigar. He had learned early on that patience was a virtue and honing it for the right moment made all the difference. He was watching and waiting for his cue, a signal from his baby. It was such a shame he had to even go to such lengths to bust her out of that prison they called her home. A sit down was what he was hoping for, a little chat of some sort to get down to the bottom of this bullshit. So much bull shit. Terry knew who he had to have it with and he played out how things might go in his head, but he’d take any chance if it meant peace with her.

A light switched on and off twice in the living room of the house. His signal..and a sign that things might not be going so smoothly inside for her. He blew out a stressed breath before he stepped out of his car, frustrations were running high but he tried to remain calm and let the bite from the wind chill his hot head. They were supposed to be on the road by now. Long gone and doused in the warm sun deep in Jamaica. A retreat..an escape from this life, and her Valentine’s Day gift. Yet here he was February 13th a day before…bulllshit. His long black leather trench coat blew in the wind as he advanced towards her childhood home.

__

You

Things were bad again between you and your aunt. The packed bags and visible passport sent her into a fit of rage. Only this time you met her frenzied haze of nasty words and disappointment with your own anger. You were beyond fed up, her constant overprotective nature and disregard for your feelings was wearing you down.

“What? You thought I was gonna just let you run off with that boy…he’s no good?!”

“You never even tried to get to know him, you’re a fucking hypocrite, you’re ruining my damn life and you don’t even care!” Wet hot tears streamed from your face endlessly, your body running high on emotions and you were lightheaded from all the yelling.

“I know enough about his family that I shouldn’t have ever let you get close to him! You don’t know what you think you do and I’m sick of repeating myself.”

“Yet again you're speaking in a riddle like I’m some child..tell me the truth. If you care for me how you so often claim. Tell. Me. The. Truth.” Your fingers hit your palm after every word. Beyond fed up with your aunt's silly little rants, this was not going to be how you continued to live your life.

A heavy knock at the front door shut her mouth before she could lie again. The knock was loud and solid, but knowing who resided on the other side of it made your hammering heartbeat calm down enough for you to finally breathe.

Your protector.

Your calm in the loud world.

Your Terry.

You rushed to open the door, almost pulling it clean from its hinges in your rush to get there before your aunt. Leathered hands reached for you and pulled you into his embrace, the smooth cool leather not hiding the rapid thump of his heartbeat. He was angry too..and rightfully so.

“Are you ok..did anybody put their hands on you?” He fired off questions quickly and I shook my head no before he placed me behind him and stepped into the house.

“You’re not welcomed here..bold of you to show your goddamn face.”

“I’m welcomed wherever she is. Because unlike you I have her best interest..period.” You watched him reach down and set a timer on his wristwatch before he rolled his tense shoulders.

“Five minutes. That’s how long you get to tell your niece the truth, or I will. Tell her why you can’t bear to look me in my face…why you can’t tell her the truth after 25 fucking years of raising her.”

Vanessa; your aunt stared daggers at Terry. She reached into her purse and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A sign that she was getting overly irritated and anxious but you could care less. She owed you this and so much more. She pat the bottom of the pack before pulling one out and quickly lighting it.

“ I don’t owe her or you a motherfucking thing. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d watch your next words carefully.” Deflection. It was typical with her.

“Tick-Tock auntie, you do it or I will.” His usual smile ridden face was still and frozen in anger. A stark difference from the man you cracked jokes with.

“You damn Richmond men..always coming around taking what doesn’t belong to you. A bunch of no good ass niggas!” More riddles. More rage.

“Tell her how your obsessive and lustful behavior behind my uncle put her mother and father in harm's way. How you knew he actually wanted her but you didn’t mind playing the back field just as long as you were around him.” And there it was, the truth that for some reason I wasn’t owed. The reason my parents were murdered.

“Tell her! How even though you knew her mother had no interest in my uncle, you still planted those seeds into his head that got her parents murdered..you knew he couldn’t take her rejecting him and you sat back and watched this unfold anyways.”

Sobs escaped your mouth and threatened to choke me with their escape. The truth really did hurt and right not that pain was feeling more physical than mental. All that time without the truth..without your parents. Your child would never know this kind of pain and despair. You pulled the white mohair cardigan tightly around your little bump. You and Terry were going half on God's greatest gift to earth…something to live for and do better for. Your sole reason for wanting to get the hell away from this place. You had done your time here tenfold, it was time to get away and raise your baby with your fiancé.

“Go put your bags in the car baby..I’ll be right behind you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and handed your bags to you.

“Hmm so you just gonna choose that nigga over your own flesh, how are you any different from me neice?”

I rushed over to rearrange her face but Terry grabbed me and pulled me to him. My shaking hands were covered by his large ones and I let their warmth mingled in with his protective gaze soothe me.

“Remember what we’re fighting for, baby. She’s not worth it, you know that, it’s just me, you, and our future.” He bent down into a squat and pressed a kiss to my belly, whispering kind words and affirmations to it.

“That baby will have his last name… his DNA. That’s no family of mine. You leave this house,you're dead to me girl!”

“I’m counting on it.” And with that you grabbed Terry's car keys and slowly carried all your belongings outside. Freedom at last.

__

Terry

“I haven’t heard from Terrell in a week, what did you do to him? I’ll have your body parts scattered from here to fucking South America..don’t test me boy!”

“My uncle is dead..and if you don’t want to meet the same fate as him I’d advise you to watch what you say next Vanessa. This is the bed you made, lay in it.”

“Terrell was a good man! He had his bad days, name a person that doesn’t…he loved me and you took him from me!” More deluded thoughts of “love” but what this really was was a sick obsession.

“My uncle was a sorry ass nigga. A scum that deserved to be wiped clean from this earth…behind her you gotta know I’ll get rid of anybody so please don’t be so surprised.”

Terry stepped into your room and headed to her walk-in closet where she had the rest of her valuables packed and tucked into a corner. He slung the duffel bags over his shoulder and grasped the photo album containing pictures of her and her parents before walking from the room. Vanessa sat in the recliner near the window watching Y/n settle into the passenger seat. Envy written across her face clear as day. She wanted what she couldn’t have, so she had planned to live vicariously through her niece. But those days were over.

“For what it's worth, she really did love you. Long before you broke her heart and crushed her dreams, you meant something to her once upon a time.” She squinted her eyes at him and walked over to stand toe to toe with him. Smoke from her cigarette blowing out of her pity and into his face.

“Get out of my house. And if you or her return to this city I won’t stop her uncles from going after either of you.”

Terry simply smirked to himself before walking away and out into the cold air. The constant purr of his car welcoming him back.

“Where will we go?” He stared into her pretty shining eyes, hands stroking her cheek.

“The time I had to spend away from you…I had something built for us, a haven. I promised you a home to raise our child in, someplace silent and serene. That place is ready love.”

__

“Baby you have to secure her head first..I promise you won’t break her.” You laughed softly at the panicked look on Terry’s face as you slid your one month old daughter into his arms.

Peace and bliss had befallen you and Terry those last months of your pregnancy. As he promised he had you nestled away in the beautiful woods of Fairburn, Georgia. The 3,000 square foot lake house sat on the Chattahoochee River smack dead in the middle of two acres of land ; it had a wrap-around porch and had three bedrooms and bathrooms. Your pregnancy was safe and your baby was healthy because of it, the quiet air surrounding you was a safety net.

You found peace everywhere on the property. Sitting on the front porch sipping your favorite red wine,arranging a savory dinner on the marble island in your kitchen, splashing your feet into the river while your fire pit crackled beside you, or those sweet nights where you laid in bed curled into the hard ridges of your fiancés body. Now your favorite times were spent nursing your daughter Clark, and adjusting to and loving the everlasting changes of motherhood. The love between you and Terry grew constantly and sometimes you’d wonder how it was even possible to love someone with every fiber of your being…how you could love everything about him.

“That little eyebrow arch she does is all you, and she thinks it’s so funny…hi my little dumpling aren’t you just the funniest sweet thing.” Your squeaky baby voice had Terry chuckling as you moved away to prepare her bottle. You poured the cooled breast milk into a four ounce bottle before placing it inside a bottle warmer to be heated. You squirted a bit on your wrist to test its temperature before walking into the living room and handing it to Terry. You watched her as her little hungry coos filled the living room and her tiny hands reached up to pull in her father’s shirt.

You munched on oatmeal chocolate chip lactation cookies and stroked the fine hairs along his neck. “Thank you for rescuing me. All I had to do was mention my situation one time,you never questioned me,never hesitated, all you did was act. I’m blessed that Clark has you for a father, she won’t ever feel what I felt growing up.”

“You thank me? I did what a man was supposed to do love, you don’t see that light around you..that light that binds me to you. I’ve killed for you…and to keep this peace I’d do it again. Because there is no price too high to pay for what you give me, what you just gave me.” He racked down and pecked a kiss onto the baby’s head before pulling you in for a tender kiss.

“We’re raising our daughter together, she’ll always have us…always feel the love we have for her. She's gonna grow up here and never have to lift a finger. She’ll be beautiful and smart just like her mommy because that’s what we intend for her.”

“And so it will be darling…next on our list the wedding”

“You ready to become Mrs.Richmond and give me a bunch of babies?”

“I’ve been Mrs.Richmond since we were seventeen having baseball tournaments in the park.. I loved you then and I still do…and I’ll give you a hundred babies, pretty boy.”

“Mm you want me to lay Clark down so we can work on number two right now..I think she wants a sibling, look at that face.” He held her up and matched the cute pouty expression on her face.

“My baby said no such thing..but mommy does need some loving from daddy. Can you have her down in ten minutes?”

He put her in the crook of his arm and began rocking her slowly. “Make it five, and put that new lace set on…I wanna tear it off you.”

You took off running towards your shared room and slipped into the racy pink set. You sank into the plush bed giggling softly to yourself. Thank god for made men…

__

@kirayuki22 @uniqueoutlierblog @rose-bliss @kaylalb @blackpinup22 @henneseyhoe @slvt4her @ruewritesoccasionally @writingsbytee @melalsworld @mauvecherie-writes @venusincleo @meadowshelby @cocooned-butterfly @playgurlxoxo @piscesdashcam @otfniah @23jammy @that-one-anxious-mango @ch33z3grits @melosliving @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @kenshisluvrgirl @rawflwrs @becauseimswagman1 @ranikyani @blyffe @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @yassbishimvintage @pocketsizedpanther @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[rootedinrevisions]

Worth the Effort

Summary: On their first Valentine’s Day together, Glen goes above and beyond to show his love in a way that proves just how much the reader means to him.

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff and good vibes.

Word Count: 4.3k

Author’s Note: Thank you to the Anon who sent in this request! This one was fun to write with the holiday coming up! Also put a little bit of myself in this one as I've never really had a partner put effort into Valentine's Day. So it was fun to brainstorm what someone would do to make Valentine’s Day special!

A Few Days Before Valentine's Day

The phone rings just as you’re settling onto the couch for the evening, the glow of the lamp next to you casting soft shadows against the walls of the living room. You glance at the screen, and the second you see Glen’s name your heart gives an involuntary flutter.

“Hey, babe,” you say, leaning back against the cushions. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Isn’t it like…two in the morning over there?”

There’s a chuckle on the other end, warm and familiar. “Nah, we wrapped late, and I couldn’t sleep without hearing your voice first.”

Your stomach tightens. He always knows what to say.

“Well, I’m honored,” you murmur, smiling despite yourself. “How’s London treating you?”

Glen sighs, and you can almost picture him. He’s probably stretched out in some ridiculously nice hotel room, one arm behind his head, hair tousled from a long day on set.

“It’s good. Cold as hell, though.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You poor thing.”

“I know, right?” he says, voice dripping with mock suffering. “I need to get back to Texas.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, drama queen.”

There’s a pause just long enough for you to hear the subtle shift in his tone when he speaks again. “Speaking of me coming back,” Glen starts, “don’t make any plans for Friday.”

Your brows pull together in confusion. “Friday?” You blink, glancing at the calendar on your nightstand. “What’s Friday?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“You’re messing with me,” Glen says flatly.

You tilt your head. “I’m… not?”

“Babe.” His voice dips, both amused and exasperated. “Friday is Valentine’s Day.”

Your stomach clenches. Your fingers tighten slightly around the phone, but you force a casual laugh.

“Right,” you say quickly. “Well, you don’t have to worry about coming home for just that. It’s just a stupid holiday.”

You’re met with silence. Not a long one, just a couple of seconds that are barely noticeable, but you hear it. And knowing Glen, he’s probably hearing everything you’re not saying.

He exhales softly. “C’mon, don’t be like that.”

You shrug, even though he can’t see you. “I’m serious. You don’t have to come all the way back just for some commercialized excuse to buy me chocolates and overpriced roses.”

His voice is softer now.  “You really think I’d let our first Valentine’s Day together be just another day?”

You don’t know how to explain what’s going through your head, at least not without sounding pathetic. But the truth is, the only other serious relationship you’ve ever had was with someone who hated Valentine’s Day. He called it pointless. Overrated. He never bought you flowers. Never made plans. Never did anything. And eventually, you just learned to stop expecting it.

Glen, though? Glen isn’t like that.

Still you shake your head, keeping your voice light. “I don’t know. I think you’re underestimating my ability to spend the night in pajamas bingeing bad reality TV.”

There’s a chuckle, but it’s quieter this time. Then, his voice turns gravelly, lower than before. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I already have something planned.”

Your breath catches. “You—”

“I’ll be home Friday,” he promises. “And once I get home I’m all yours.”

* * * * *

Valentine’s Day - Morning

Soft morning light spills through your curtains painting yours and Glen’s bedroom in soft golden hues. You shift under the covers stretching lazily, the quiet hum of the world outside lulling you back into a light doze. For once you don’t have to rush. No work. No emails. No meetings. You took the whole day off not for Valentine’s Day, of course. Just…because. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The faint sound of the front door unlocking downstairs barely registers in your half asleep state. Your mind lingers somewhere between dreamland and consciousness until a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

“Babe?”

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a brief second where your brain doesn’t quite catch up. Because Glen is in London. He’s supposed to be thousands of miles away.

But then a slow grin spreads across your face as you remember his promise. Pushing the covers off, you scramble out of bed and  run toward the living room. 

The second you turn the corner, there he is. Glen. Standing in your doorway, looking completely and devastatingly like home. His hair is tousled from travel, and his jacket is slung casually over one arm. But it’s the expression on his face that makes your breath hitch. That stupid heart melting smile.

“Hey beautiful,” he says, voice rich with amusement.

You don’t even think. You just launch yourself into his arms. Glen catches you easily, like he’s been waiting for it. One of his arms wraps around you, strong and warm, holding you just tight enough to make your heart squeeze.

“You’re here,” you mumble against his shoulder.

His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Told you I would be.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your hands sliding to cup his face. He’s slightly scruffy, his jaw rough with the shadow of a beard like he hadn’t bothered to shave before hopping on a plane.

Your fingers brush over the stubble, and Glen just smirks.

“You checking if I’m real?” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “I’m debating if I should kill you for not telling me when your flight was landing. I would’ve picked you up.”

He chuckles, but before you can say anything else he pulls something from behind his back. A bouquet of roses. Deep red, vibrant, freshly wrapped with ribbon.

Your lips part, but for a second, nothing comes out.

Because this has never happened to you before. No one has ever shown up with flowers. No one has ever gone out of their way to make you feel like you’re worth the effort.

Glen watches you carefully, his gaze softer now. “You okay?”

You swallow, nodding as you take the bouquet from him. The petals are velvety under your fingertips, the scent delicate and sweet.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head. “I know.” Then leaning in he presses a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “But I wanted to.”

Your chest tightens. Because for the first time ever Valentine’s Day doesn’t feel like some stupid, commercialized holiday.

It just feels like him.

Glen leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching as you tuck the roses into a vase. “So,” he says casually, “what time do you have to be at the office?”

You hesitate for half a second before replying, “I actually took the day off.”

Glen raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Did you now?”

You shoot him a look already knowing where this is going. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna.” He steps closer, tilting his head. “Did you take today off to avoid your office turning into a Valentine’s Day war zone?”

You sigh dramatically. “It’s not a war zone. It’s just…” You gesture vaguely. “Okay maybe it is kind of like a war zone.”

Glen chuckles. “So you’re telling me that right now, at this very moment, the entire office is split into two camps. One group gushing over their gifts, the other dramatically swearing off love forever.”

You snort. “Pretty much.”

He grins. “And you just…opted out?”

“I didn’t opt out,” you argue, crossing your arms. “I just thought, you know, a personal day sounded nice.”

Glen hums, unconvinced. “Mhm. Just a total coincidence that you took off work on Valentine’s Day?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, actually.”

“Uh-huh.” He steps forward, hands slipping around your waist as he leans in. His voice drops, warm and teasing against your ear. “Admit it. You were worried I wouldn’t come back.”

Your stomach flips, but you try to keep your expression neutral. “You are so full of yourself. Not everything is about you, you know?”

He laughs, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your neck before pulling back. “Maybe.”

Moving effortlessly around your kitchen, Glen grabs a frying pan and starts pulling things from the fridge.

You frown. “Are you…cooking?”

He raises a brow. “What, you think just because I’m a pretty face I can’t make breakfast?”

You smirk, hopping up onto the counter. “I think I’ve seen you burn toast before.”

He points a spatula at you. “That was one time. And I was distracted.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “By what?”

Glen grins. “You, probably.”

Your cheeks warm, but you shake your head laughing as Glen effortlessly takes over the kitchen.

The rest of the morning is easy. Pancakes, fresh fruit, coffee. You sit cross legged on the couch while Glen flips through the channels, landing on an old movie you’ve both seen a dozen times.

The world outside drifts by, but here in this little pocket of time, everything feels calm.

Because it’s not about the holiday. It’s just about being with him.

Later That Afternoon

You’re curled up on the couch, half asleep, when Glen nudges your foot.

“Hey,” he says, stretching. “We should probably get ready soon.”

You frown, peeking one eye open. “For what?”

He smirks. “C’mon. I’ve got plans for us.”

You hesitate, eyeing him suspiciously. “What kind of plans?”

His lips twitch. “The kind where you should wear something nice.”

Your stomach flips. Because Glen Powell does not do basic.

Which means whatever he’s got planned…it’s something big.

You stand in the middle of the walk-in closet, hands on your hips, staring at the rows of clothes as if they might magically assemble themselves into the perfect outfit.

Something nice. That’s what Glen had said. But what does that even mean? Does he mean nice boots and jeans? Like Texas casual nice? Or does he mean nice dinner nice?

You sigh pulling out a dress, then immediately putting it back. You check your phone like maybe Glen has sent some kind of clarification, but no. Just a winking emoji in response to your earlier “Where are we going?” text.

So helpful.

Just as you’re debating whether you should just put on leggings and hope for the best, you hear footsteps behind you.

“You’re overthinking.”

You turn to see Glen leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, grinning like he’s caught you doing something embarrassing.

“I am not overthinking,” you say even though, okay, maybe you are.

Glen pushes off the doorframe and steps inside, his gaze flicking from the half-unzipped dress in your hand to the growing pile of discarded outfits on the bench. “You’re standing in the middle of the closet looking like you’re solving a murder,” he teases.

You huff. “That’s because you were vague.” You gesture toward him. “What does something nice even mean? You’re wearing jeans!”

He glances down at his outfit—jeans and a crisp button up, the sleeves rolled up in a way that does unfair things to his forearms. “Yeah. Because I know where we’re going.”

“That’s not helpful.”

He laughs, stepping closer. “Here.” He slides past you, reaching into your side of the closet like he’s done it a hundred times before. He pulls out a sundress. It’s one of your favorites. Light, comfortable, effortless. The kind of thing that works for a casual dinner or something a little special.

He holds it up. “This one.”

You take it, raising an eyebrow. “You picked that fast.”

He shrugs. “I like this one on you.”

Something about the way he says it is so easy and certain. It sends warmth curling through your chest. You glance at him, suddenly aware of the way he’s watching you, like he already knows you’re going to listen to him.

“Alright,” you say, fighting a smile. “But if I’m overdressed, I’m blaming you.”

Glen grins. “That’s fair.” He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

You smooth your hands over the dress as you step out of the bedroom, your heels clicking lightly against the hardwood as you make your way down the stairs. There’s a hint of nerves buzzing in your chest. Not because you’re unsure about the date, but because Glen has a way of making everything feel like it means more.

As you reach the last step, you spot him near the front door, messing with his watch. He must hear you approaching because he glances up. And freezes.

His fingers pause, his whole body going still as he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You recognize that look. It’s the one he gave you the first time you ever dressed up for an event together. The one he gets when you’re wearing something that knocks the breath out of him.

His lips part slightly, his brows lifting just enough to be noticeable. His eyes take a slow appreciative once over, lingering on the soft fabric of your dress, the way it falls just right, the way it hugs your curves without even trying.

“See something you like?” you tease, one eyebrow quirking as you reach the bottom step.

Glen blinks like you just snapped him out of a trance. Then that easy, borderline cocky grin of his slides into place. “I always do,” he says smoothly, stepping toward you. “But damn, sweetheart.” His voice dips lower warm and teasing. “You really outdid yourself tonight.”

You roll your eyes fighting back a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stunning.” He closes the space between you, reaching for your hand. His fingers slide against yours, warm and steady. “If I didn’t already have a whole plan for tonight, I’d be seriously reconsidering leaving this house.”

Your face warms at his words, but you shake your head with a laugh. “Well, now I definitely need to know what this plan is.”

He smirks, giving your hand a quick squeeze before leading you toward the door. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart.” He opens the door, gesturing for you to step outside. “You’re gonna love it.”

As you step outside the cool evening air wraps around you, carrying the scent of fresh grass and the lingering warmth of the Texas sun. Glen’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you toward the garage where his truck and SUV sit side by side. Your car is parked in the third spot.

You glance between his truck  and the SUV, expecting him to open the door to one of the vehicles. Maybe he’s planned a nice dinner in town or some kind of fancy event. But instead of going for the truck Glen veers to the side…toward the Gator ATV.

You stop short. “Uh… did you forget we’re dressed nicely?” You gesture between the two of you, your dress swaying slightly with the motion. “Because I don’t think this outfit is exactly ATV appropriate.”

Glen just grins, already pulling open the driver’s side. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “Should I?”

He leans against the roll cage, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I did put in all this effort to plan something special for you.” He tilts his head toward the passenger seat. “So, what do you say? You gonna climb in and find out, or are you gonna stand there and keep looking pretty?”

You bite your lip, giving the Gator a once over. It’s not what you expected, but with Glen the unexpected is usually the best part. With a small sigh you step forward, gathering your dress slightly as you climb into the seat.

Glen smirks as he watches. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“I swear, if you send me flying—”

“Sweetheart.” He places a hand over his heart. “I would never let anything happen to you.” Then with a wink he turns the key, and the engine rumbles to life beneath you.

As he pulls out of the garage, the headlights cut through the dusky sky, and the excitement in your chest starts to build. You still don’t know where he’s taking you, but you can already tell whatever it is, it’s going to be unforgettable.

The ride is short, but the anticipation builds with every bump and turn down the dirt path. The air is crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of wild grass and the faintest hint of cedar. The last bit of golden sunlight lingers on the horizon, casting everything in a warm glow.

As Glen slows the ATV to a stop, you finally see it—a clearing in the middle of his land, wide and open, with a sky that seems to stretch forever. And right in the center of it all, a blanket is spread out, a carefully packed picnic basket resting on top, along with a small lantern glowing softly in the evening light.

“You did all this?” you ask softly, turning to Glen as he kills the engine.

He grins, already stepping out of the ATV and moving to your side. “Told you I had something special planned.” He reaches for your hand, helping you down with that effortless, gentlemanly ease that always makes your heart race.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you kick off your shoes, the cool grass tickling your bare skin. Glen watches with amusement. “Getting comfortable already?”

“You expect me to sit on a picnic blanket in heels?” you tease.

He chuckles, slipping his arm around your waist as he guides you toward the setup. “Fair enough.”

Once you reach the blanket Glen lets go of you just long enough to sit down first. Then with that easy, confident charm, he reaches out offering his hand to you.

You place your hand in his letting him help you down, and as soon as you’re settled, he stays close. One arm propped behind you for support, his body warm and solid beside yours.

“This…” You take another glance around, your heart swelling at the effort he’s put into all of this. “This is amazing, Glen.”

His gaze softens, a small smile playing on his lips. “You deserve it.”

And just like that the tension in your chest, the years of past Valentine’s Days that were ignored or dismissed fades into something warm and weightless.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the way your emotions threaten to creep up, but Glen must notice because he reaches up, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “none of that. No sad thoughts tonight.”

You exhale a small laugh. “I’m not sad,” you admit. “I just…I think this is the first time Valentine’s Day has actually felt like something special.”

His fingers slide under your chin, tilting your face toward his. His voice is soft, steady. “That’s because you’re special.”

And before you can argue, before you can brush it off, he leans in, pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips, sealing the moment in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

Glen reaches into the picnic basket, a playful smirk on his face as he starts unpacking the meal he’s carefully put together. There’s fresh fruit, a variety of cheeses, slices of warm bread wrapped in a cloth, and a thermos that smells suspiciously like homemade soup.

You raise a brow. “You went all out for this.”

He grins as he pops open a container, revealing chocolate-covered strawberries. “Told you I had a plan.”

As you both start eating, the atmosphere settles into something warm and intimate. The sky deepens into a soft indigo, stars beginning to peek through, and the lantern beside you casts a cozy glow over the blanket.

At one point, Glen picks up a piece of cheese, holding it out toward you with an exaggerated look of expectation. “Open up, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes but lean in anyway, taking the bite from his fingers. His smirk widens. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

You swallow, shaking your head at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me.”

You snort. “That’s still up for debate.”

Glen gasps dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “Damn. And here I thought I was winning you over.”

“You’re gonna have to work a little harder than feeding me cheese,” you tease.

He leans in, voice dropping just a little. “Noted.”

Your stomach flutters, but before you can react, Glen reaches back into the basket, pulling something out and setting it in front of you with a little flourish.

“Speaking of working harder,” he says, “here’s your real Valentine’s Day present.”

You blink, looking down at the small, wrapped box in front of you. Your heart stutters. “Glen…”

“No arguing,” he warns, nudging it toward you. “Just open it.”

Your fingers hesitate for a moment before you carefully peel back the wrapping. Inside, nestled in a velvet box, is a delicate bracelet—simple but elegant, with a small charm that catches the lantern light.

You recognize it instantly.

The charm is in the shape of Texas, and etched into it, so small you almost miss it, are the coordinates of Glen’s ranch.

Your breath catches.

“So you always have a piece of home with you,” he murmurs, watching your reaction closely.

A lump rises in your throat as you run your fingers over the charm, heart swelling at the thought behind it.

You glance up at Glen, eyes shining. “I—”

But the words don’t come.

Instead, you reach for him, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss that’s soft and slow, filled with everything you’re feeling but can’t quite put into words.

You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “I love you.”

Glen smiles, pressing a kiss to your nose before pulling you into his arms. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

The sky is painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight sinking beyond the horizon. The warmth of the setting sun lingers on your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth radiating from Glen as you lean back against his chest. His arms are wrapped loosely around your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns along your forearm.

You sigh contentedly, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. “This was perfect.”

Glen hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

For a while neither of you speak. You just sit there tangled up in each other watching the sun disappear. There’s a peacefulness in the quiet moments between you, in the way Glen’s breath moves steadily against your back, in the way his fingers never stop their gentle absentminded movements against your skin.

And then, as the last bit of daylight fades, Glen shifts behind you. “C’mon,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before gently pulling away and standing up.

You blink, watching as he makes his way over to the Gator. “Where are you going?”

Glen doesn’t answer. At least not right away. Instead he reaches into the vehicle, flicks on the headlights, and suddenly the entire field is bathed in a warm golden glow. Then from the glove compartment he pulls out a small Bluetooth speaker.

Your heart stutters as he powers it on and scrolls through his phone for a moment before a familiar melody starts playing.

You recognize it instantly. It’s the first song you and Glen ever slow danced to on the first date.

Your breath catches as he turns back to you, the softest smile tugging at his lips. He makes his way over, holding his hand out. “Dance with me?”

You don’t hesitate. Slipping your hand into his, you let him pull you up and guide you into the middle of the makeshift dance floor. The headlights cast a dreamy glow, the stars begin to dot the inky sky above, and the music wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Glen’s hands find your waist, drawing you in close as he sways you to the music. You rest your arms around his neck, your fingers playing idly with the hair at the nape of his neck.

For a moment, you just move together, slow and easy, as if the rest of the world has faded away.

“You remember this?” Glen murmurs, his lips close to your ear.

You nod against his shoulder. “Of course, I do.”

“I do too.” He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “I remember thinking that night that I’d do anything to get the chance to dance with you again..”

Your breath shudders, emotion tightening in your chest. “Glen—”

But he doesn’t let you finish. Instead he dips his head and kisses you slow and deep, like he’s got all the time in the world. And maybe he does.

The music plays on, the soft melody weaving between the night sounds of crickets and the occasional rustle of the breeze through the grass. Glen holds you close, his warmth wrapped around you like a second skin, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

Neither of you speak, but words aren’t necessary. Everything you need to say is in the way he holds you, in the way he sways with you, in the way his fingers trace gentle patterns along your spine.

As the song nears its end, Glen presses his lips to your temple, lingering there for a long moment before whispering, “You get it now, don’t you?”

You blink up at him. “Get what?”

He smiles, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “That you deserve this. That you’re worth the effort.” His thumb skims over your cheek. “And that I’d fly across the world a hundred times over just to spend a day loving you.”

The words steal the breath right out of your lungs. Emotion swells in your chest, tightening your throat, burning behind your eyes.

You shake your head, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you whisper, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Glen chuckles, tucking you against his chest once more. “Then I guess I’m doing something right.”

And so, you stay there—wrapped up in his arms, slow dancing beneath the stars, as the music fades and the world around you stands still.

Just you and him.

Exactly where you’re meant to be.

[writing-for-marvel]

Bed Chem

Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your roommate Bucky walks in on your sexy Valentine’s Day plans with boyfriend Steve, and you ask him to join.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, MMF threesome, double vaginal penetration, thigh riding, oral (f & m receiving), ever so slight degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, spanking, a little Steve x Bucky, just some porn for your Valentine’s Day reading pleasure

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Who’s the cute guy(s) with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad mm? Happy Valentine’s Day ♥️ banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Your friend hit me up so we could connect, And what are the odds? You send me a text

It was a fortunate coincidence you met Steve Rogers when you did - he was picking up his best friend Bucky, your roommate, for a poker night when you answered the door in skimpy pj shorts and a singlet.

You remember the amorous twinkle in his bright blue eyes as he chatted you up, leaning against the doorframe so that his shirt rode up and you caught a glimpse of his happy trail and the defined oblique muscle which had you squeezing your thighs together.

It was not even 24 hours later, having practically begged Bucky for your number, you received a message asking you out.

That was more than a month ago, and is how you’ve now ended up here, sitting in Steve’s thick lap, his large hands splayed on your ass and his tongue down your throat on Valentine’s Day.

The pads of your fingers feel every toned muscle of his abdomen as your hands work to unbutton his shirt. His body is like that of a God carved from marble, powerful, strapping, and you can’t believe you get to fuck him.

“Be a good girl and get all wet and messy for me.” He orders in that raspy, hungry tone you’ve come to know well. Taking charge, Steve places you on his firm thigh, flexing the muscle beneath you. His hands rock your hips against him, prompting you to grind in fluid motions, your throbbing pussy finally feeling the friction she is desperately craving. “For all the filthy things I’m going to do to you, I need you dripping.”

The damp arousal soaking his pants is evidence you’re already drenched, but you’re resolute in making a mess for him, just like he asks. Whimpers cascade from your lips as you continue to grind against him, following his commands, his growling voice deep in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve practically rips your top and bra off your body, lips latching to your nipple, tongue performing sorcery that makes you see a galaxy of stars behind your eyes.

You’re too caught up in each other, in how Steve’s thick thigh feels against your core, to notice a key turn in the lock, the front door swinging open and Bucky gaping at the front row seat he’s been given to your exhibition on the couch.

By the time you notice Bucky, his erect cock is painfully obvious as an outline in his sweatpants. You shoot him a smile, all the while still rocking your hips, and your best come hither smoulder you can muster with Steve’s mouth sucking on your breast.

“Don’t be shy, Buck. Come closer, get a good look.” A teasing smirk curves on Steve’s lips, only briefly taking his eyes off you above him to invite his best friend over to the pornographic scene taking place on his couch.

You’ve never seen typically forwardly flirty Bucky Barnes look as bashful as he does right now, a flush creeping up the tops of his cheeks, and his bright blue eyes are locked in on your oscillating hips rocking against Steve’s thigh as if he’s seeing a woman naked for the first time.

“C’mon pretty girl, show Bucky how beautiful you look when you cum.”

Steve’s chest reverberates against yours as he speaks in a deep, low voice. That combined with Bucky’s lust blown pupils urge you on, hips taking on a life of their own, angling your pelvis so you’re flawlessly stimulated, now wanting to appease not only your angelic boyfriend but the other pair of astonishingly blue eyes now trained on you.

All it takes is Steve’s supple lips to start sucking on your collarbone, his hands securely squeezing your hips and a small whimper from Bucky as he steps closer, for euphoria to crash over you like a waterfall, drowning you in a suffocating, all consuming, leg shaking, back arching orgasm.

Maybe it's all in my head, But I bеt we’d have really good bеd chem

“You liked that didn’t you, you little slut? Making Bucky watch?” You hum in agreement, your head still hazy from your orgasm, high on the feeling of bliss flowing through your veins.

Bucky adjusts himself and the thought of including him in your Valentine’s night plans makes you salivate. Being in the middle of both of these tantalising men, their muscular, sweaty bodies taking all the pleasure that your body is capable of for themselves, is a dream come true.

“You wanna taste how sweet my girl’s pussy is?” You watch on as Bucky practically jumps on the couch, eagerness etched into the smile growing on his gorgeous face.

You may have had just a teensy crush on Bucky when you first moved in, there’s no denying he has a certain boyish charm and a face card that makes ladies young and old swoon at first sight - a face you’d fantasised about sitting on more than a couple times.

“That’s it, no need to hover, all the way down.” Bucky’s rough hands pull your hips down so you are fully seated on his face, the tip of his tongue circling your already dripping entrance a couple times forcing a groan from the back of your throat.

“Open your mouth for me.” Steve requests, the pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip, and your jaw slackens for him. “Swallow me whole, pretty girl.”

You gag as your boyfriend's large dick hits the back of your throat - it’s not a new sensation, you’ve given Steve many a blowjob before, but not while also seated on a pair of lips that are ravishing your slick folds.

Bucky’s mouth works wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, which makes performing an expert job on Steve that much harder, but you’ve always been up for a challenge.

Using your hands to assist in maximising Steve’s pleasure, Bucky does the same for you - hungry touch roaming all hot skin he can reach from his position below you. There’s a small part of you that is acutely aware that two sets of eager, yearning blue irises are set upon you. But more than any other feeling, capturing both insanely attractive men’s full attention feels powerful, like you’re an unstoppable, raging river that dictates the flow of nature.

“I need you to fuck me.” Your words come out as a moaned plea, desperation as clear in your tone as it is in the arousal flowing out of you that Bucky is gladly lapping up.

“Whose cock do you want, baby?” You hear Steve say, taking your focus away from Bucky’s pretty, hypnotic eyes looking up at you riding his face. “Who do you want to fuck you sensless?”

Your eyes meet Steve’s pale blue ones and he knows without words exactly what you're longing for.

How you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round, Oh, it just makes sense

Steve manhandles you, practically throwing you down on your large bed. Having him looming over you, shoulders wide, thighs thick, cock erect, gives you a fluttering feeling of premonition in your belly. These man are about to ruin you.

The glint in his eye all but tells you he’s about to fuck you in a way where you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Steve flips you over, and pulls you back so your ass is in the air, glistening pussy displayed for him. There’s a sharp smack against the flesh of your ass before he plunges into you, a deep, forceful thrust that makes you gasp with how much air he’s knocked from your lungs.

Bucky takes pleasure in watching Steve fuck you, stroking himself at a leisurely pace as his eyes widen in attempts to not miss a single moment of how exquisite you look while clinging to the sheets and being absolutely ravaged by his best friend.

“Suck him off.” Steve demands, an assertive hand grabbing the back of your neck, pulling your face up from being buried in the blankets that smell just like your boyfriend and towards Bucky’s hard on.

Having both of them filling you from either end of your body does something to you you can’t explain. Never in all your life have you felt this aroused, this needy, this desirable.

Steve makes contact with your ass again as he continues to split you open - your entire body inflates with insurmountable pleasure, a type of high that can barely contain within your corporeal form and transcends multiple planes of reality.

“Aww, you gonna cum already?” Steve taunts gravelly in your ear, feeling your walls flutter around him as the room fills with the sounds of you gagging on Bucky’s dick and Steve’s strong hips rhythmically crashing into your ass.

You don’t even have the opportunity to get a reply out, too busy trying to focus on taking Bucky, when your high hits you like a sudden, almost unpredicted, smack from Steve. The edges of your vision blur, or maybe it’s just your eyes rolling back, as a devastating, white hot pleasure rips through you, rays of warm ecstasy radiating from your core as if you are the sun itself.

And the two men currently sharing in that rapture on your bed certainly regard you as if you’re the centre of their universe in this moment.

How you talk so sweet when you’re doin’ bad things, That's bed chem

“Fuckkkk.” Bucky moans, his large hands finding your waist as you sink all the way down on him. “Steve, your girl’s so wet.”

“Best pussy I’ve ever had.” Steve says with a smirk, watching your face contort in pleasure as you adjust to this new angle with a soft endearment in his eyes. It continually surprises you how he can look at you with such affection when you’re in the middle of doing the filthiest things for him. Even fucking his best friend.

The best way to shut Steve’s vulgar mouth is by giving him something far more alluring to preoccupy his tongue with. He lays down on the bed before you, mesmerised by the way your pussy slides up and down on Bucky’s cock, how you take all of his long member seemingly with ease.

His tantalising fingers carefully, almost painfully so, play with your already sensitive clit, before he dives in tongue first, swirling, sucking, lapping at every drop of arousal gushing from you, paying extra close attention to that spot which makes you dizzy with desire.

“Holy fuck!” You shout into your bedroom which has now become a steamy, sweaty sauna of moans, curses and whimpers. “Right there - oh god! That feels so fucking good!”

The things your man can do with his tongue are otherworldly, and a sense of possessiveness flashes through you - you’re the woman he sinks to his knees for and worship like a queen.

But then Steve does something you’re not expecting - and though you can’t quite see it from your vantage point, you feel Bucky’s chest vibrate beneath you as he groans, presumably as Steve takes Bucky’s balls into his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie.” Bucky breathes next to your ear, in a low moan, a timbre of voice you don’t think you’ve ever heard from him before. He’s clearly enjoying what your boyfriend's tongue is capable of as well.

Bucky’s hands squeeze tighter on your waist, his thrusts not as languid as before as he contends with multiple sources of gratification, something you suspect he has not felt before this very moment. And by the sounds of him panting underneath you, you’re sure he’s loving it.

And I bet it’s even better than in my head

Steve gives one last kiss to your sensitive and puffy clit, before he stands between your legs.

“Need you to turn around for me, pretty girl.” Steve’s voice has an edge of shakiness to it now, desperate need overcoming his usually calm, dominant demeanour.

You do as your told, now facing Bucky’s dazzling eyes that hold a burning desire you’ve never seen gaze at you with. The fluttering in your tummy when your hands rest on his broad, strapping chest and you sink back down on him, indicates to you this definitely isn’t the last time you’d like to see it.

“Want you to take both of us at once, think you can do that for me?”

Lord, you have no idea if your body is even capable of that, but if there are any two people on the planet you’d try for, it’s the two in this king size bed with you. You’re always up for a challenge.

“Yes, please, I need to feel both of you.”

Never in your life have you felt a burn so delectable as when Steve pushes inside you, your walls stretching to accommodate both men’s impressive sizes. Bucky clearly feels it too, how cramped for space you must feel as his groan matches your own, Steve’s cock sliding along Bucky’s as you wiggle your hips to aid in fitting both of them.

You’ve never felt this full before, so stuffed that you’ve truly reached 100% capacity, that it feels like you’re going to burst from being so utterly satiated.

“You were made for this weren’t you?” Steve asks rhetorically, because right at this second it undeniably feels like the three of you were designed for this exact purpose.

“Made to be stuffed with both our cocks.” Bucky adds with a grunt, teeth scraping your collarbone that just adds to the shiver that runs down your spine.

They don’t even have to move inside you for you to know you’re close. You’re not even sure there’s room for movement, everything feels so cramped, but in the best. You’re confined by two sweaty, muscular men intent on making you cum again.

Bucky's firm hands spread you open, whilst Steve’s tender hands on your hips assists with moving you along their cocks, only to push you backwards and you groan as they fill you again. All thoughts evaporate from your mind and all you can feel is them stretching you out, Bucky breathing shallowly beneath you, Steve’s low, melodious tone reverberating from behind you.

“That’s a good girl, cum on our cocks. We’ve got you, gorgeous.”

This time you’re fully aware of the crescendo you’re reaching, the life ruining orgasm that’s about to hit you square in the chest and fracture you into tiny pieces.

However hard you thought you were going to cum, it could not have prepared you for the moment the taut band in your belly finally snaps. Ecstasy in its purest form pulses in your veins, filling your whole, trembling body with a high so powerful the whole galaxy of stars flash behind your eyes.

You’re mumbling incoherent whimpers as the men reach their peak, feeling you clench down even tighter on their dicks, their shafts sliding along one another’s, they both spill their orgasm into you.

You feel gapingly empty when they pull out of you, like there is a crucial part of your anatomy that is now missing and you won’t feel whole again until it’s restored. Steve watches with erotic fascination as all your mixed releases drip from your core, taking a thick finger and pushing it back inside you where it belongs, before grabbing a damp cloth to clean you up.

Once he’s done, Steve lays beside you so you’re sandwiched between him and Bucky, placing gentle kisses to your form as tiredness starts to overtake you from the most incredible night of your life.

You’re not sure where this leaves your relationship with either man, is Bucky fated to simply be your roommate from now on? How can you go back to sleeping just a wall away knowing what phenomenal pleasure he can pull from your naked body? Would your normally dominant and possessive boyfriend mind sharing you with his best friend again?

But one things for sure, you're absolutely positive you’ll never feel completely satiated again unless you have both of their cocks inside you.

I bet we’d have really good bed chem

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[luvoooenha]

Lucky charm!

Pairing- Boyfriend! Jake x Girlfriend! Y/N

Summary- Jake, the top soccer player at UNI, always relied on Y/N’s support—until a huge argument left him distracted before a big game. Without her in the stands, he struggled to play, missing shots and worrying his team. Realizing how much he needed her, a teammate called Y/N, who debated but ultimately showed up, looking her best. The moment Jake saw her, his focus returned, and he played like himself again. After the game, they made up, proving that Y/N was truly his lucky charm.

Warnings- FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, anger, angst, arguments, happy couple… (jokes! Not really)

Word count- 1.8k

plsplsplsplsplspls dont copyyy my work!

“You don’t get it, Y/N!” Jake’s voice was sharp, frustration thick in every word.

“Then explain it to me, Jake! Because right now, it feels like I’m the only one trying.” Y/N’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her voice shaking between anger and hurt.

Jake let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t care? That I don’t appreciate you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Jake, I’ve been to every single game, every late-night practice, every stupid press conference where they ask you the same questions. And not once have I ever complained.” Her voice broke slightly, but she pushed on. “But the second I bring up how I feel, I’m the bad guy?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The look in her eyes—raw and filled with unshed tears—made his chest tighten.

“I can’t keep doing this if you don’t want me here, Jake.”

His stomach twisted. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. But his stupid pride got in the way, and instead of telling her the truth—that he needed her more than anything—he muttered, “Maybe it’s better that way.”

The second the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back.

Y/N’s face fell, her jaw tightening as she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away.

Jake stood frozen, watching her disappear into the night.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

-

The silence between them was louder than anything Jake had ever experienced.

Y/N hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t shown up to practice.

Jake told himself he was fine. That he could focus better without distractions. But when game day rolled around, it hit him like a freight train.

He jogged onto the field, scanning the stands on instinct. But the seat where she always sat—third row, left side, just behind the team bench—was empty.

His stomach clenched.

He tried to shake it off as the game started, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His passes were off. His speed felt sluggish. Every shot he took either hit the post, went wide, or was blocked by the keeper.

The frustration built with every mistake, weighing him down like lead.

The final whistle blew, and UNI had lost. Jake barely heard the post-game speech from his coach, too busy replaying every missed opportunity in his head.

When he got back to the locker room, he didn’t even bother taking off his cleats right away. He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.

Jay, his closest teammate, nudged him. “Dude. What’s going on?”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Just an off day.”

Jay scoffed. “Nah, man. This is more than that. I’ve never seen you play like this.” He paused. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Jay sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious you’re a wreck without her.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “She’s probably better off.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Then why do you keep looking for her in the stands?”

Jake said nothing.

Jay grabbed his phone. “I’m texting her.”

Jake should’ve stopped him. Should’ve told him to leave it alone.

But he didn’t.

Y/N sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, as she mindlessly scrolled through her camera roll. Each swipe brought a new memory, a new reminder of everything she and Jake had been before it all fell apart.

There was a photo of him grinning at her during one of their late-night study sessions, his notes forgotten as he balanced a pencil between his nose and upper lip, trying to make her laugh. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but she could still remember the way her stomach had fluttered when he looked at her like she was the best part of his world.

Another picture—Jake, covered in sweat but grinning like a fool after a big win, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing, caught mid-cheer, his jersey draped over her like a second skin. She had been so proud of him. She always was.

And then, one of her favorites—a candid shot of them from a lazy Sunday morning. Jake, shirtless and half-asleep, stealing bites of her breakfast as she swatted at his hand, laughing at his shamelessness. His hair had been a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s chest ached.

She missed him. More than she wanted to admit.

Her fingers hovered over his contact, the familiar urge to text him creeping in. But then, like a cruel reminder, his words echoed in her head.

"Maybe it’s better that way."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, locking her phone. If that was what he wanted, then fine. She wouldn’t be the one to break first.

But then, as if the universe was laughing at her stubbornness, her phone buzzed.

Jay: Jake’s a mess. He needs you. Badly.

Her heart clenched.

She should ignore it. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who made her feel like she didn’t matter.

But… if that were true, why was he struggling so much?

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her, filled with something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

She could walk away. Let Jake figure this out on his own. Prove to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her.

But that was a lie.

Because no matter how angry or hurt she was… she still loved him.

And she wasn’t sure she ever wouldn’t.

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her jacket and touched up her makeup.

If she was going, she was going to make an entrance.

She headed out the door, her heart pounding.

Jake needed her.

And whether she liked it or not… she needed him too.

-

Jake jogged onto the field, his mind clouded with doubt.

His body felt heavy, his nerves shot. The last few games had been a disaster, and the weight of failure clung to him like a storm he couldn’t outrun. He tried to shake it off, stretching his arms and bouncing on his feet, but nothing felt right.

Then, instinctively, he looked toward the stands.

And everything stopped.

His breath hitched. His heart stuttered.

Y/N was there.

Sitting in her usual spot—third row, left side, just behind the team bench.

Jake blinked, half-convinced he was imagining it. But no, it was real. She was real.

And damn, she looked good.

Her hair was styled just the way he liked, her makeup subtle but stunning. She wore his favorite shade, the one he always said made her eyes stand out, and even from across the field, he could see the way her lips curved in something between challenge and amusement.

She came.

A rush of energy shot through his veins, the kind he hadn’t felt since before she left. His pulse pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something deeper, something electric.

His lucky charm had returned.

And just like that, everything clicked back into place.

The whistle blew, and Jake was unstoppable.

Every pass was precise, every shot powerful. He weaved through defenders with the confidence he’d been missing, his movements sharp and deliberate. The frustration that had been drowning him for days melted away, replaced by pure instinct.

And every time he scored, he didn’t look at the scoreboard. He didn’t look at his teammates.

He looked at her.

Y/N sat there, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But he saw the way her lips twitched, the way her fingers tapped against her thigh. She was proud of him—he knew it.

By the final whistle, UNI had secured the win. The crowd erupted in cheers, his teammates swarming him with congratulations, but Jake barely acknowledged any of it.

His eyes were locked on her.

Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the stands, pushing past the crowd. Y/N had already started making her way down toward the field, and when she stopped in front of him, they just stood there, staring at each other.

For the first time in days, Jake could breathe again.

“I was an idiot.” His voice was breathless, raw. “I didn’t mean any of it, Y/N. I was just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I was scared. Of how much I need you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed. “Yeah? I figured, considering how hard you flopped without me.”

Jake huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I deserved that.”

“Damn right, you did.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, but Jake didn’t miss the way her tough exterior wavered, the way her eyes softened just slightly.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, I mean it. I never should’ve pushed you away.” His voice dropped to something quieter, more vulnerable. “You’re everything to me.”

She sighed, finally uncrossing her arms. “Jake… you can’t shut me out when things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “And I won’t. Ever again.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment, and then, finally, she sighed in defeat. “You’re lucky I like you, Sim.”

Relief crashed over him, and before she could say anything else, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms arowund her and pulling her in tight.

She hesitated for half a second before melting into him, her arms circling his waist.

Jake buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, and everything felt right again. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she teased, voice muffled against his jersey. “I could tell from your embarrassing game stats.”

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Guess I need you to keep me in check.”

“Clearly.”

Jake reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek, his voice softer now. “So… does this mean you’ll be at the next game?”

Y/N smirked. “As long as you keep winning.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering, “Then I guess I have no choice.”

Because she wasn’t just his biggest supporter.

She was his lucky charm.

isa note! - lallalala first story!!! lalalall so excited! lalalalalla

taglist~ @firstclassjaylee

if wanted to be tag plspslplspsls let me know! 💗

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2024-2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[mourndust]

⋅˚.⋆☾⁺ SUPERCHARGED // g!psevika x reader

this is pure filth be advised. 18+ mdni, dirty talk, jealously, free-use reader, pet names, choking, dub-con, blood kink, dumbification, overstimulation, kinda made this with wolverine!sevika on my mind, but i kinda get carried away and it ended also being g!psevika, english is not my first language, any mistake i’m sorry in advance — literally 1.5k of porn without plot, reblogs, comments and likes are loved!

she has always been bad news.

her mechanic arm has no trouble in holding both hands behind your back, like you don’t already know she has triple the force you’ll ever have.

fucking show-off.

the room is hot, spinning around as your cheek is buried in the matress, the cold surface of the unused red sheets as a throaty whine comes out of your mouth — “sev,” you breathe out like a curse, yet it’s not enough to make her stop nor listen to you — she’s pretty mad so you doubt she’s going to listen to any of your whimpers.

“ngh- sev,” you call her again, yet she’s grunting beneath you, always choosing rather a poor amount of words to communicate as lewd sounds fill the air everytime her cock slides inside of your drenched cunt. “fuck- baby please.”

you always give in in the end, as her flesh hand close around your waist to move you at her will against her hard dick. she’s been like that for a while, almost as a way to remind you who you belong to, of showing everyone who you belong to.

she’s not really that jealous normally, but there was something with the way you leaned against the bar, short skirt raising to the point she could see your black underwear, a dumb-ass-limp-dick trying to get under your skin like she does, and it’s enough to make her leave the stool she’s in, cigarette on her lips as she drags her glass of whiskey to sit next to you, cold hand dragging the stool your seated in next to her side, making you sit between her open legs.

she always do that. play poker while you’re drinking happily in the bar, keeping an eye on you like a product she can use.

it’s all sevika needs to do, not even looking at the guy who’s so invested in talking to you that’s now turning his back around to leave you alone — who’s going to mess with what’s her’s anyway? nobody is that dumb to have a deathwish.

“you’re doing this on purpose, princess” she says, flesh hand squeezing your leg as she towers over you, her smell is strong as she blows the smoke of the tobacco in your face, nonchalant as ever when the flesh one is grabbing you by the jaw, making you look at her as her fingers dig on your skin like a reminder she owns you, that there’s no limit with her.

her claws are well hidden in the mechanic arm, yet you can feel them peaking out when she’s petting you like a fucking dog, the metal knifes against your skin, breaking the fabric of your dark blue skirt without caring who’s looking before saying — “move. let’s go.”

“sev-”

“i said move” she says, serious now — “or do you want me to fuck you right over this stool in front of the whole bar?”

a shiver goes down your spine at her words, and it explains soon after why you’re crashing her place, the messy interior of the room she’s staying that used to be silko’s place, the red sheets against your skin as her cock forces past your entrance without a previous warning, already leaking when she’s spanking you, full force as red marks appears in your butt-cheeks, making you open yourself for her.

fuck — she’s jealous. jealous as her hips piston against your ass, balls slapping against your clit as she becomes messy, messy fucker, messy eater, messy lover, fucking you cruelly as her metal arm reaches for a fistful of your hair just to pull your head backwards, presenting your ass like a fucking gift to her eyes only.

the smell of the smoke is on the air, the dim light of the tobacco consuming between her lips with each inhale she gives, and you swear, fucking swear you can feel her in your belly, the pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure as your face contorts in pleasure, pure need.

“such a good cocksleeve,” sevika groans, an smile of victory curving on her lips as she can feel you clenching around her cock, and god she can feel it all — the way your breathing becomes shallow, the whispers of need, the warmth of your pussy as the friction becomes unbearable. “gonna mould this pussy to the shape of my dick, what do you think of that, doll?”

“sev- i can’t- i can’t s’too much,” you whine sooner than later at the verge of tears, but its not enough to make her stop, to make her slow down, in all contrary, it only serves to make sevika pick up her pace, making you stand on your knees as she keeps you in the edge of the king sized bed, pumping her painfully hard cock behind you in a new position, starved as she bites you, marks on your shoulder when she’s close to reach her high. good fuck.

“you like to flirt in the bar huh? using this tiny shit you call a skirt- fucking take it like a big girl” her metal hand close against your throat to push her cold fingers right against your pulse point “you like being all needy?, asking for attention? fucking take my cock like you were begging for, whore. don’t be pathetic.”

the metal claws suddenly appears on your vision as she takes you by the waist, and the complex mechanism of her arm sounds each time she makes you move, vapor filling the air just slightly for a couple of seconds: you know what she’s doing.

the cold metal roams against your skin, trailing against your side cause she knows you love it quite a lot, that you’re a sick who loves the thrill of being hurted, the need of pain as she applies just enough preassure to make a small wound over your tight she’ll be taking care of later, making you shake as the blood drips down your tight to loose itself of her bed.

you’re a babbling mess and shit- she fucking loves it. she loves making you drunk on her cock, making you cry as thick tears leave your pretty eyes when the pleassure becomes unbearable, seeking out for more always greedy.

“atta girl,” she says, and her voice gives you goosebumps, the deep sound that comes from her chest when she’s laughing at you, half dizzy as she chokes you harder, making you lightheaded— “now you like it huh? wasnt it too much? filthy girl.”

“please- m’gonna cum” you beg, and she gets off from the sound of your strained voice, how you beg when her slightly curved dick rubs on your cervix, shoving her fingers inside your mouth just to muffle the sounds you are making.

“shut up,” she mutters, taking one of your legs in her arms to lift it slightly, angling herself better until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking when the orgasm pours over you; and sevika keeps on fucking you, even when you’re spasming over her dick, sucking her in — she cares about her release now, the load she discharges over your back, staining the fabric of your skirt as she keeps on stroking herself.

“no,” she warns you when your body becomes limp and you fall against the mattress, pulling you up again — “did i say we were going to stop? lift your ass up, doll. i’m cleaning the mess you made.”

weird thing? you’re craving anything she can give you, so when her tongue is slipping between your soaked folds, she hums hungrily while you’re there, thinking that’s what heaven should feel like.

[wendichester]

₊˚⊹♡ swipe right,

summary. dean winchester doesn’t really do dating apps. but then, he matches with you.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 928

You almost didn’t swipe right.

His profile was suspiciously vague—just a single, grainy picture of him leaning against a sleek black Impala, wearing a worn leather jacket, a confident smirk playing on his lips. No bio. No interests. No cheesy pickup line.

Just Dean, 35 and a damn good smirk.

You stared at it for a moment, finger hovering over the screen. This guy could be anyone. A serial killer. A scam artist. A catfish. But something about that stupid smirk made your stomach flip.

So, against your better judgment, you swiped right.

And to your surprise, you matched instantly.

Now, you’re sitting across from him in a dimly lit bar, a little buzzed from your second drink, trying to process that yes, this is real, and yes, he is even hotter in person.

Dean Winchester is a flirt. A charmer. He’s warm whiskey and cocky grins, all easy confidence and smooth one-liners. But there’s something else, too—something genuine beneath all that bravado.

“So, tell me,” you tease, swirling your drink, “do you always meet women off Tinder, or am I special?”

Dean huffs, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I don’t even know how I ended up on that damn app. My brother set it up.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He takes a sip of his beer, lips curling around the bottle in a way that makes your stomach flip. “Said I needed to ‘get out there’ more. Thought I’d just get a bunch of bots, but then—” He gestures at you with his bottle. “Lucky me.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I prefer charming.”

“Debatable.”

His grin widens, and God, he’s got a nice smile. It’s not just his looks—it’s the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

And maybe it’s the drinks, or maybe it’s the way he keeps looking at your lips, but there’s a charge in the air, crackling, electric.

Dean leans in, forearms resting on the table, voice dropping just a little. “You’re a lot cuter than I expected.”

You arch a brow. “Expected?”

He shrugs, smirk playing on his lips. “Well, you never know with these apps. Thought I’d get catfished.”

You scoff, pretending to be offended. “You thought I was the catfish? That’s rich, coming from a guy with one blurry picture and no bio.”

Dean chuckles, eyes twinkling. “Okay, fair.” He takes another sip of his drink, gaze flicking over your face, warm and amused. “But if I’m being honest, I almost didn’t swipe on you either.”

Your heart dips slightly. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You seemed…” He searches for the right word. “Too good to be true.”

The words catch you off guard. Your lips part slightly, and Dean holds your gaze for a moment longer before glancing down at his drink, almost like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

The air between you shifts—less playful, more charged.

You tilt your head, giving him a soft, teasing smile. “So, is this the part where you ask me back to your place?”

Dean hums, tapping his fingers against his glass. “Tempting. But I’m a gentleman.”

You snort. “Oh, really?”

He leans in a fraction closer, voice dropping lower. “Yeah. Which means I’ll at least walk you to your door before I start thinking about how bad I wanna kiss you.”

Your breath catches. His tone, his expression—it’s all heat, all smoldering intent.

And suddenly, you’re not so interested in finishing your drink.

It’s a blur after that. The way he keeps his word, walking you to your door like some old-school gentleman—until you pull him inside, pressing your lips to his the second it closes behind you.

Dean groans, hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth is warm, insistent, and when his fingers slide into your hair, tilting your head back, you let out the softest sigh.

His body is solid beneath your hands, strong, radiating heat. And when he backs you against the wall, pressing his hips into yours, you feel just how much he wants this.

“Jesus,” he pants against your lips, forehead pressing against yours. “Tell me if I need to slow down.”

You shake your head, fingers curling into his jacket. “Don’t you dare.”

His chuckle is dark, rough, as his hands skim down your sides, settling on your hips. “Bossy.”

You grin, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You like it.”

He makes a sound low in his throat, then lifts you easily, guiding your legs around his waist. You let out a surprised laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Show-off,” you murmur.

Dean smirks. “Told you, sweetheart. I’m charming.”

And then he’s carrying you toward your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

Later, when you’re tangled together in your sheets, breathless and warm, Dean lets out a satisfied sigh, fingertips tracing lazy circles on your hip.

“Gotta say,” he murmurs, “best damn Tinder date I’ve ever been on.”

You laugh, stretching against him. “Oh, so you’ve had others?”

Dean pauses, then smirks. “Nope. Just wanted to mess with you.”

You swat his arm, and he catches your wrist, bringing it to his lips. The playfulness fades slightly as he looks at you, something softer in his gaze.

“Glad I swiped right,” he admits quietly.

Your heart does a stupid little flip. “Me too.”

Dean’s smirk returns, but it’s warmer now, fonder. He pulls you closer, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Told you,” he murmurs against your skin. “Lucky me.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @img14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @aerinu

[starkwlkr]

just need to let old man logan rest his head on some tits after a long day of getting his ass handed to him🙏🏽

it’s been a long day | old man logan

an: back at it again with the old man logan fics 😩

The door creaked open, and Logan stepped inside, bloodied knuckles aching, the sting of fresh bruises settling into his ribs. He kicked off his boots with a weary grunt, wincing at the tight pull in his shoulder. Another long night. Another fight. Just some punks trying to take his goddamn car—his car. Like he was just gonna let them.

His coat hit the floor, and he dragged himself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. The reflection staring back at him was the same as always—tired eyes, grizzled beard, streaks of blood smeared across his jawline. He cleaned up as best he could, wiping away the worst of it, then shuffled down the dim hallway, exhaustion weighing on him like lead.

You were already asleep when he got to the bedroom, curled up under the sheets, your slow, steady breaths the only thing in the quiet room. The sight of you—peaceful, warm—made something deep in his chest unclench. He didn’t want to wake you. He really didn’t. But he needed you.

With a low sigh, he climbed into bed and shifted closer, pressing his face against your chest, his weight settling over her as he rested his head between your breasts. You stirred, murmuring something soft and sleepy, your fingers instinctively threading through his silver hair.

“Logan?” You whispered. Even in the dark, you could tell he was in a bad shape.

“It’s been a long day,” he muttered, his voice sounding rough and worn.

Your hands moved gently, smoothing over his scalp, fingertips tracing slow, soothing lines. He exhaled against your skin, tension slowly ebbing away under your touch.

“You’re hurt,” you continue whispering, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head. “Let me take care of your wounds.”

“Don’t move. Stay,” He mumbled. He was far too comfortable in his current position. And he for sure wasn’t going to let you clean his wounds, he could do that himself in the morning. Right now, all he wanted was to be in bed with you. “I’m . . Okay.” He could feel himself getting sleepier by the second.

You kept running your fingers through his hair, slow and rhythmic, the way you knew calmed him. "Go to sleep, Logan. I’ve got you."

That night, Logan slept so peacefully, he swore you had magic that made him sleep so well. Whatever it was, it made him look forward to sleeping each night.

[hwallazia]

hi idk if you taking requests but if you are, heres my idea.

nerdy hongjoong chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. imagine making out with him and you get whiny and moaning BUT he’s just the same as you! he’s whining and hands all over you. with his lil glasses and his hair gets messy from you tugging on his hair 😩

i love your writing and i think you’ll do great with this! looking forward to it if you decide to write this byeeeeeeee

7 MINUTES IN HELL HEAVEN – 김홍중

⋆ synopsis. being dared to do 7 minutes in heaven with the nerd wasn’t as bad as you thought.

pairing. nerdy! hongjoong & fem! reader.

wc. 1,8k

warnings. veeeery suggestive (mdni!), dry humping, making out, desperation at its peak, so much whining, implied virgin! hongjoong, reader calls joong “nerdy”, teasing, reader’s on top of hongjoong but they don’t fuck, getting caught (not fucking but in a compromising position hehe), possessive reader tehee, mention of other ateez’s members, 

nic’s notes ⋆ writing this was a ride 😮‍💨 happy belated vday, lovelies <3 also, hope u like it, dear anonnie !!

how the fuck did you end up here?

a nerd whose name was irrelevant to you, sitting next to you in a king-sized bed, chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

you could feel the way his eyes peered holes into the back of your head as you covered your face with your palms, still unable to face reality. he fidgeted his fingers against the fabric of his fancy pants, adjusting his black glasses every now and then; heart almost beating out of his poor chest. 

you sighed, fingers holding the bridge of your nose, before turning abruptly to stare at him. his body jolted slightly in reaction. “do you even know how to kiss?”

his eyes opened wide in shock, taken aback by your sudden question. “huh?” was all he could mutter.

you groaned as you rolled your eyes, a mix of boredom and annoyance bubbling deep inside your guts. “oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, closing your eyes in denial. “you know how this game works, right?”

a soft flush of red brightened his cheeks. “i do,” he breathed, “it just seems quite inappropriate to me.”

amusement laced your tone. “inappropriate? ha! you’re a virgin, aren’t ya?” your words sounded more like a sentence than a question. 

the blush on his face grew stronger, heating his face. nervously, he blabbered. “hah?! w—why would i share that kind of information with you?!”

you chuckled at him. “yeah, you are.”

he looked at you as if you had hurt his pride as a man. so, he talked back in a poor attempt to defend himself. “no, i’m not!”

you quickly dismissed his whines, waving your hand at him uninterestedly. “yeah yeah, whatever you say, nerdy.” 

the nickname caught him off guard, confusion written all over his face; head tilted to the side. “nerdy?” 

you ignored him and got up, clapping your hands together. you stood up in front of his figure, who seemed to refuse to move from his place. you could see how his fingers had stopped grasping the fabric of his pants, shifting instead to the softness of the bed’s blankets. “okay! listen, i don’t know about you, but i’m not planning on staying here doing nothing.” you continued. “so, i’ll be your teacher today.”

you leaned forward, closer to him. “teacher?” he muttered, unsure if he could still breathe if he kept holding eye contact with you. 

“that’s right.” you rested your hands on his thighs, using them as support. “so, what’s your name, nerdy?”

“hongjoong.” he stuttered, fluttered by your closeness. he did his best to avoid looking down at your chest, fighting the urge to glance at the curve of your breasts, his focus straining to stay on your face. 

“hongjoong…” you hummed softly, slightly tilting your head. his name rolled off your tongue dangerously, almost as if you were savoring it. “pretty.”

when he said his name, you couldn’t help but analyze his face, dark irises scanning his flustered self with a huge focus. you frowned your brows softly when you realized: “he’s actually not so ugly you know…”

you nodded approvingly as you leaned even closer, your breasts now touching his own chest; lips only a few inches apart. a rush of excitement and nervousness flowed through his limbs, reddening his ears. “i’m yn.”

hongjoong whispered right on your lips. “i know.”

you chuckled, velvety tone laced with tease. “you’ve kept an eye on me for a while, hm?”

he realized he had given himself away too late. he was about to start rambling again. “i—“

his mind was desperately trying to look for an excuse, a way out of the moment of embarrassment he had put himself in; anxiety rushing through his blood. but before he could even utter a word, you smashed your lips against his, a mix of roughness and desperation coursing through you both. you didn’t waste any time before pushing your tongue into his mouth, and he hummed softly, happily accepting it. 

you leaned forward, pushing hongjoong over his back until his back was laid flat against the mattress. you didn’t break in any moment the kiss as you straddled his lap, pressing your clothed sex against his crotch. 

your hair covered his reddened face and his scrunched eyes, he was immersed in that kiss, deeply intoxicated by your aura, scent and taste. your tongue laced with his just felt right, and it awakened something deep within him. something he never experienced before. something he couldn’t quite define. 

you both were caught up in the heat of the moment, in your own world, until a voice was heard from the other side of the door, making you pull away, a string of saliva hanging from your lips and keeping you connected.

“mingi, the timer, man!” you could recognize wooyoung’s voice.

a faint “oh fuck i forgot” barely reached your eardrum. the loud boo of the whole group almost made you laugh. mingi started whining about being human and how humans make mistakes.“poor mingi” you whispered to yourself.

“y’all, mingi forgot to start the timer!” yunho started talking loud enough for the both of you to hear. “so time’s starts running from…” he paused briefly. “now!”

you turned to face hongjoong, locking gazes with him. he looked so helplessly cute under you, such a blushing mess. “lucky us, then. we got plenty of time.”

you leaned closer, grabbing his face and pulling him to you, forcing him to sit up straight whilst joining your lips together again. your fingers stroked his cheeks affectionately, slightly tilting his glasses to the side. you dominated the kiss since he wasn’t quite sure what to do, what to touch, what to feel. his hands stayed by the sides of his body, holding the sheets beneath him in a white-knuckled grip. 

your eyes remained closed as you tried to fully immerse yourself in the kiss. but with no touch from him, the lack of contact was beginning to feel both dull and unbearable. taking matters into your own hands, you broke the kiss for a brief moment just to whisper. “touch me.” you grabbed his wrists and guided them to the sides of your body, slowly trailing them to your lower back, brushing your ass. “wherever and however you want.”

with that, you dived in for another kiss, now feeling hongjoong’s hands caressing the places that your guidance allowed him to go, still a bit shy to go further. you started to get impatient, desperate. you sunk your hips down him and started swaying back and forth, trying to create some friction. the slow, rhythmic roll of your hips effortlessly coaxed moans and whines from hongjoong’s swollen lips. 

your tongues met in a heated clash, pressing, twisting, and tangling in a slow, intoxicating dance. you tried to match hongjoong’s sloppy pace, but it left you breathless, panting for air. “haa.. hongjoong— wait.”

“can’t,” was all he said before pressing his hands against your back and neck and pulling you to him, locking lips again.

but this time was different. this time hongjoong had gained enough confidence and built enough courage to start roaming his hands all over your covered back and trailing them down to your ass, playing and groping your buttocks. this time hongjoong was the one to insert his tongue into your oral cavity first. his kissing was still sloppy and unrefined, but it somehow stirred something deep in you, deep down. 

a familiar fluid started to pool down your panties, euphoric arousal coursing through your limbs, prickling your skin. your hands instinctively glided to his hair and started tugging it, your fingers laced with some locks of his fluffy hair. your panting and desperate state made hongjoong feel things he just wasn’t okay with, things that drove him up a wall. his clothed sex started to wake up, poking his pants and rising its fabric, creating a tent. his now hardened bulge tapped against your wet entrance insistently. you moaned at the feeling whilst hongjoong was doing his best to keep his whines at a low volume. spoiler: he couldn’t.

he’s a panting mess beneath you, eyes almost rolling back to his skull at the sensation, the satisfaction. the lenses of his glasses are now fogged up, the mist clouding his vision as his breath hitched in the heated air.

he exhaled. “fuck you’re too much.”

“am i?” you smirked teasingly, drowned in his expression, his state. his face was flushed from all the situation, his lips were swollen from all the kissing, his hair was messy from your fingers tugging it. and a sudden sensation of possessiveness washed over you.

your mind just couldn’t help but repeat like a mantra the word “mine”.

you were about to dive into a heated kiss again, start the kiss that’d be marked by that thought, the kiss that’d make hongjoong yours.

but just when you were about to do so, to claim the guy, the door bursted open.

wooyoung and jongho chimed in. “time’s uppp!” wooyoung blubbered, completely wasted and drunk. he stared at you and analyzed everything: the position, the ambience, the smell that lingered in the air. “oh my god, you were about to fuck.” he stated the obvious.

jongho sighed, grabbing his friend by his shoulders. “he’s drunk if y’all can’t tell.” he cleared up. “but yeah, time’s up. so get out of here and join us.” he announced before disappearing through the door. 

when the door clicked shut, you and hongjoong sighed loudly in unison and proceeded to laugh at the unintentional match, genuine smiles drawn on your faces. 

“i guess this is it then?” hongjoong spoke.

“what do you mean this is it, idiot.” you deadpanned, pulling yourself off his lap. as you brushed your hair with your fingers, trying to better it up, you continued. “you and i got unfinished business, sir.”

you winked at him before leaning in and pecking his lips. “you ain’t getting rid of me that easily.” you shared one final, brief kiss and pulled away. 

you chuckled softly before making your way towards the door, naturally bringing out your usual self when you met everyone again. “ayooo!” you hollered, being greeted by your euphoric and drunk friends as you closed the door behind you, leaving a poor flustered hongjoong sitting on the edge of the bed with an unbearable hard-on and his smart brain turned into mush.

days later, hongjoong was in the middle of a study session in the university’s library, head almost inside the philosophy book he was reading. 

suddenly, his phone vibrated against the desk, the dull brrr catching him off guard. he picked it and lit up its screen. a message from an unknown number popped up as the latest notification. his fingers swiped the screen and unlocked it, now able to read the text.

come over to my place tonight. there’s still some unfinished business we need to handle, nerdy.

a lustful glint sparkled in his eyes, and a devilish smirk curved up his lips.

everything about tonight promised to be dangerous, and neither of you was going to back down.

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