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little-jana · 2 days ago

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"The Baby Glimmer"

Pairing: husband!Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, wanting a baby, heated/romantic fade-to-black intimacy, kissing

Summary: Where Aaron gets baby fever.

a/n: Well, since most of you voted for 2nd person writing, I'll try that from now on.

The first time you noticed it, you didn’t think much of it.

Aaron and you were walking through the mall one rainy Saturday afternoon, grabbing a few things for Jack’s school project. He’d been in need of some craft supplies and, as usual, Aaron wanted everything to be perfect.

You were strolling past a baby boutique on the way to the bookstore when Aaron slowed to a stop. He glanced at the window display—a collection of tiny onesies and soft teddy bears arranged artfully—and a soft, almost wistful smile crept across his face.

You stopped beside him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

He gestured to a fluffy teddy bear in the center of the display, its bowtie slightly askew. “That’s cute,” he said simply. “Babies would love it.”

You blinked. Aaron Hotchner, notorious for his stoic demeanor, commenting on teddy bears?

“Yeah,” you replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “It’s… adorable.”

Aaron nodded, his hand briefly brushing against yours before he turned back toward the bookstore. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder, his voice calm and measured as always.

You stared after him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe he was just in a good mood.

---

Then there was JJ’s baby shower.

Aaron had insisted on going. “She’s family,” he’d said when you asked him about it. “It’s important to support her.”

And support her he did.

He spent the entire afternoon helping set up decorations, arranging tiny cupcakes on trays, and offering to hold the baby while JJ unwrapped gifts. It was… unexpected, to say the least.

At one point, you caught him holding JJ’s newborn, his expression so soft it made your chest ache. He was cooing gently, his deep voice low and soothing as he rocked the baby in his arms.

You tried not to stare. You really did. But the sight of Aaron Hotchner—gruff, protective, usually all-business—cradling a baby like it was the most natural thing in the world was enough to make anyone’s heart skip a beat.

“Wow,” Emily whispered, nudging you with her elbow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Hotch has baby fever.”

You laughed, brushing off the comment. “Please. He’s just being nice.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach fluttered when Aaron caught your eye across the room and smiled.

---

It wasn’t just JJ’s baby. It was everywhere.

You were at the grocery store one evening when it happened again. You had split up to cover more ground, and found him standing in the baby aisle when you came to find him.

“Aaron?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

He looked up, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he held up a tiny pair of baby shoes. “Look at these,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “They’re so small.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing again. “Uh… yeah,” you said slowly. “Babies tend to have small feet.”

Aaron chuckled, setting the shoes back on the shelf. “Right. Of course.”

You watched him for a moment, suspicion creeping in. Something was definitely up.

---

The team noticed it, too.

“He’s acting weird,” Derek said one afternoon, leaning back in his chair as he sipped his coffee.

“Weirder than usual?” Emily quipped, smirking.

“No, like… softer,” Derek replied, gesturing toward Aaron’s office. “Have you seen the way he’s been with JJ’s baby? Or how he’s been staring off into space lately? It’s like he’s distracted by something.”

Emily glanced at you, her eyebrows raised. “Any idea what’s going on with him?”

You shrugged, playing dumb. “No clue. Maybe he’s just tired.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the way Aaron had been looking at you lately—the way his eyes lingered just a little longer than usual, the way he reached for your hand more often, the way his touch was softer, more deliberate.

---

It all came to a head one quiet evening at home.

Jack was asleep, and Aaron and you were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background. You’d been watching him out of the corner of your eye all night, trying to piece together what was going on in that brilliant, complicated mind of his.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Aaron,” you said, turning to face him.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes warm and attentive. “Yes?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “You’ve been… different lately. Distracted. Is everything okay?”

Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was going to brush it off. But then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he reached for your hand.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” he admitted, his voice low and steady.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“It’s just… seeing JJ with her baby, and watching Jack grow up… It’s made me think about us. About our future.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. “What about our future?”

Aaron’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch warm and comforting. “I’ve been thinking about having another baby. With you.”

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.

“A baby?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I know it’s a big decision, and I don’t want to pressure you. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About what it would be like to build a family with you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Aaron,” you began, your voice trembling. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze filled with love and hope. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as tears spilled down your cheeks. You loved this man so much.

---

Over the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron’s words.

You watched him more closely than ever, noticing the way he doted on Jack, the way he smiled whenever you passed by a baby in the park, the way he held you just a little tighter at night.

And the more you thought about it, the more the idea began to take root in your heart.

It was a week later, during a quiet evening at home, that you finally found the courage to bring it up again.

You were sitting at the dining table, finishing the last of your dinner, when you set your fork down and looked at him.

“Aaron,” you said softly.

He glanced up, his expression instantly attentive. “Yes?”

You took a deep breath, your fingers nervously twisting the hem of your shirt. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About having a baby.”

His eyes softened, and you saw the faintest glimmer of hope in his gaze. “And?”

You smiled, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand. “And… I think I want that, too. With you.”

Aaron’s face lit up, a smile spreading across his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured, his deep voice warm and full of unspoken emotion.

You laughed through the tears welling in your eyes, unable to look away from the sheer adoration in his gaze. “I think I do,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

Aaron’s other hand reached up, his fingertips tenderly brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re really ready for this?” he asked, his tone quiet and reverent, like he didn’t want to break the fragile bubble of this moment.

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “With you? Yes. A thousand times yes.”

His dark eyes softened even further, the kind of look that always made you feel like you were the only person in the world to him. He kissed you then—slow and deliberate, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude into the motion.

When he finally pulled back, you noticed the faintest mischievous glint in his eye, something you rarely saw but secretly adored. His lips quirked into a small, almost playful smile.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly, “if we’re going to have a baby… shouldn’t we start practicing?”

You blinked at him, stunned for half a second before a breathless laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, really?” you teased, tilting your head as you looked at him. “You don’t waste any time, do you?"

His grin widened just a fraction as he leaned closer, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of your hand. “Why would I, when we could make this moment count?” His voice was a low rumble now, filled with a heated edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The air between you shifted—charged and electric, crackling with the kind of tension that made your pulse race.

“Aaron…” You whispered, your voice catching in your throat as he cupped your cheek, his touch so gentle yet so deliberate.

“Yes?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, teasing you with just the faintest ghost of a kiss.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

He hummed low in his throat, his other hand settling on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. “I don’t plan to.”

The next kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was full of unspoken promises and barely contained need, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.

You gasped as he shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms as though you weighed nothing. Your hands tangled in his shirt as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips never straying far from yours.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner smut

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fawnhart · 2 days ago

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bambi and drew when they were a ‘situationship’ ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

Drew’s breathing is still erratic, the sex you just shared with him has left him gasping for air. You don’t say anything—just slip out from under the covers, the chill of the room hitting your skin. You don’t even look at him when you walk to the bathroom.

The door clicks shut behind you, but you can still hear him shifting in the bed, the soft rustling of sheets. You stare at yourself in the mirror, eyes wide, brows furrowed.

What the fuck am I doing?

You don’t even realize when he starts walking toward you. It’s like he’s always been behind you, looming over you even when you don’t want him to be.

The bathroom door cracks open, and there he is, looking confused.

“baby, what are you doing?”

You don’t even know why you’re still talking to him at all. You came over to talk about how you’re sick and tired of being pushed aside, sick of feeling left out anytime his freinds are around, not fitting in because they view you as young and naive. But like always you gave in and slept with him. You knew the conversation wasn’t happening, so what’s the point in staying?

“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, but it feels louder than anything you’ve ever said to him.

His face twists into something you can't quite place—disbelief, anger, hurt, all mixed together. “Wh- Are you serious?”

You can’t even look at him. You focus on your reflection in the mirror, the way your shoulders sag, how defeated you feel and look. Mascara and lip liner smeared, your cheeks warm and sweaty.

“I’m serious,” you murmur. “I’m done.”

He takes a step closer, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pull away. His touch, once comforting, feels like a brand now. Like it burns.

“Bambi, you’re being ridiculous” he says, a laugh edging his words, but it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at all. It sounds like he’s mocking you.

“I’m not being ridiculous!” you snap, spinning around to face him. You feel the words press against your chest, sharp and bitter. “It was a mistake.”

He scoffs. “A mistake? After everything? you’re really telling me this after what we just did?”

You bite your lip, eyes stinging. “Yes. Because you’re always so damn mean to me!”

The words hang in the air, thick with the tension between you both. Drew looks like he’s just been hit, but he’s not giving up.

He raises an eyebrow, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You don’t even know what you want half the time, Bambi. You change your mind like the goddamn wind. One minute, you want to be with me, the next, you’re pushing me away. How am I supposed to keep up with that?”

“You want to know why?” You’re shaking now, the anger bubbling over. “Because you make it impossible. You’re the one who’s always pushing and pulling me in when your little bitch isn’t in town. You make everything about yourself, and then when I need something—anything—there’s nothing, everytime you gain something I’m the one losing everything!”

Drew’s face hardens, and his voice lowers to something dangerous. “I’m not the one who doesn’t know what they are doing. You’re the one who thinks everything’s gonna work out just because you’re here with me. Newsflash! its not. Not everything is as simple as you want it to be. You’re naive to think it is.”

You feel your chest tighten, your throat burning. "Don’t call me that." You say as tears start staining your skin

He looks at you, unblinking. "You don't get it, You can't keep acting like everything's perfect, like we can just keep pretending things are fine when they’re not."

“It’s not fine, Drew," you say, your voice cracking. "That’s why I’m leaving.”

He just stares at you, his face twisted, his eyes dark with frustration. "This is stupid," he mutters, turning away and heading back to bed "I can’t keep doing this shit."

But you’re already over it. Your mind is made up, and you’re not going to let him talk you out of it. Not again. Not this time.

You grab your phone, your purse, and without a second glance, you’re out the door. The air hits you, cold and biting, but it feels better than the heat of the argument.

A cab pulls up, and you don’t hesitate. You climb in without looking back, your hands shaking as you close the door behind you. You don’t even know where you’re going yet, doesn’t matter anyway. You just need space.

The cab pulls away, and you stare out the window, watching the streetlights blur into streaks of yellow and orange.

Drew’s face is still stuck in your mind. His words, the way he made you feel small. He always does that, Makes you feel like you’re the one who doesn’t know what’s real, like you’re the one who’s in the wrong.

But you’re not wrong. Not this time. You know what you need, even if it hurts to walk away.

you wonder if Drew is standing in that dark apartment, staring at the door you just walked through, trying to figure out whether he wants you or not. Whether he’ll ever make up his mind.

Maybe, maybe not. But right now, all you know is that you need to breathe.

#works!⟡࿔*:･ﾟ #bambi!reader✦ •ִ ᜔.#drew starkey #aesthetic #drew starkey imagine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x reader

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maskedbyghost · 2 days ago

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SMUTSMUTSMUT, +18, MDNI! Simon x reader x Soap (y'all are fucking)

I kept thinking about this unholy scenario, and I need you all to hear me out.

Picture this: you and Simon are in a committed relationship, everything seemingly perfect. But then, one night, you go out with Johnny. The evening gets a little wild, drinks flow freely, and somehow, the three of you end up back at your apartment.

What begins as lighthearted, innocent teasing—maybe a touch on the arm or a shared laugh that lingers a little too long—quickly escalates. Before you know it, you find yourself kissing Johnny.

But that’s not even the whole story. Simon is there, watching it all unfold. His girl and his favorite boy, tangled in something forbidden, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

And that’s how you found yourself swept into this beautiful mess: lying on your back, completely at their mercy. Johnny is nestled between your thighs, his mouth working you with a skill that leaves you breathless, every flick of his tongue driving you higher. His body arches, hips raised in the air, as Simon takes him from behind with a ruthless rhythm. And your boyfriend’s face is a picture of raw ecstasy—his eyes glazed, lips parted, and every sound he makes only adds to the heat swirling around you. You’re utterly captivated, caught between their movements, unable and unwilling to look away from the sheer intensity of it all.

When your second orgasm washed over you, thanks to Johnny’s skillful mouth, Simon decided to reward him. He allowed Johnny to take you next, his perfect little girl, with your legs draped over his shoulders as he slid into you. He started slow, gentle, perfectly attuned to the way you liked it, letting you savor every movement. But as time passed and your body adjusted to him, Simon moved into position behind Johnny, taking his time as he entered him with the same care.

And that was it—Johnny was completely lost to the sensation. The sound he made when Simon filled him sent a jolt straight through you, so powerful you nearly came from it alone. You could hardly hold yourself together as you watched Simon thrust into Johnny, the rhythm pushing Johnny deeper into you with every movement.

Each time Simon drove into him, Johnny buried himself further inside you, and the intense pressure made you clench around him, your body reacting instinctively to the overwhelming heat of it all. You weren’t sure how you managed to hold on, especially when the view alone was enough to push you to the edge.

But you waited. You held yourself back patiently, because you wanted the three of you to fall apart together.

“You wanna cum, Johnny? Does it feel good?” you asked, your voice soft yet teasing as you watched his eyes roll back, completely undone.

“Yes—please—I can’t wait anymore,” he begged, his voice trembling.

“Then say please,” you purred.

“Please, Bonnie—”

“No,” you interrupted with a playful tone. “Ask Simon nicely. Beg him to let you cum in his pussy.”

Simon smirked, his movements didn’t change, his hips still driving into Johnny with ruthless rhythm.

“Simon, please, please, please,” Johnny stammered, his words spilling out in a desperate rush. “Let me cum, let me fill her up—please.”

He was a complete mess, and it was delicious to watch. Simon, clearly enjoying the power he held over both of you, finally grabbed Johnny and pulled him flush against his chest. With Johnny’s back pressed to him, Simon’s thrusts didn’t slow as he kissed Johnny’s neck, his voice low and commanding.

“Cum,” Simon growled. “Both of you. Right now—or I’m stopping.”

That was all it took. His words pushed you over the edge, the wave of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightened and trembled. Johnny followed immediately, crying out as he filled you, his body shuddering against yours. Simon wasn’t far behind, his grip tightening as he groaned, the three of you lost in the overwhelming heat of the moment.

As the pleasure settled over the three of you, the room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and soft, contented sighs. Johnny collapsed onto you, his body warm and still shaking, his head resting against your chest. Simon followed, his hands sliding over Johnny’s sides as he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder before brushing his lips over Johnny’s hair.

The three of you stayed there for a moment, tangled together in the aftermath. No words were exchanged—none were needed.

Eventually, Simon shifted, his hand gently tracing circles along your thigh. “You okay, love?” he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded, smiling up at him, your body still humming with the afterglow. “More than okay.”

Johnny let out a tired laugh, his head lifting slightly to meet Simon’s gaze. “I think you ruined me,” he muttered, though the satisfied grin on his face showed that he wasn’t complaining.

Simon chuckled, leaning down to kiss Johnny again, then you. “Good,” he said simply, before settling down beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he nestled in, content to hold you both in the quiet warmth of the moment.

-------------------------------------------

hehehehehe

@daydreamerwoah

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #ghoap x reader #ghoap smut #ghoap x you

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ventismacchiato · 15 hours ago

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18 stuck with you — cherry blossoms !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

MORNING AFTER

You wake up, and the remnants of last night’s drinking are still rattling around in your skull. The harsh light streaming through the windows feels like a personal attack, and the dull throb in your temples only adds to the misery. You almost don’t remember everything from the night before. Almost.

The kiss. The sight of Mona kissing Scara. Heizou’s arm around your shoulder. Scara’s eyes, watching. The way you rushed to defend yourself.

You try to roll over, but everything feels off. There's this weight in your chest, a weird, almost sticky feeling in your gut that you can’t shake. The weirdness is because of him.

After dragging yourself into the living room, hoping for a bit of quiet before leaving for breakfast, your eyes find the culprit of your headache. Scara. He’s standing by the door, looking entirely too unaffected by the chaos of last night. The cool indifference he always wears is almost infuriating. You were hoping he’d be feeling just as lost as you.

You’ve always known Scara was beautiful. It's one of the reasons you hated him. It’s why the jealousy burned so fiercely inside you for all those years. His sharp eyes and how they managed to cut through everything, the way his features seemed too perfect to be real, it always made your stomach twist. It made you question why he had to exist in your orbit at all.

But now…now, as you watch him, you feel that old jealousy resurfacing. But this time, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels different.

Maybe it was never jealousy at all. The thought makes your heart skip, and before you know it, you’re staring at him.

Your gaze lingers for too long because all of a sudden he looks back at you. His usual detached expression softens for a split second, and you swear a flicker of something crosses his face. A jolt runs through your spine. Heat floods your face. You can’t help it. It’s like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

Remember. Be flirty. Show him you don’t hate him.

"Good... good morning," you stammer.

He gives you a strange look. “Morning?” he says, before walking past you.

Thankfully, the others arrive, and the group starts moving toward breakfast, leaving you in the dust. Your eyes flicker back to Scara briefly, but you immediately look away again, hoping your face isn’t burning as much as it feels. Lumine, who must’ve noticed your awkwardness, grabs your arm and pulls you back.

"Okay, that could’ve gone better," Lumine starts, voice light but teasing, "I thought you liked him? Why were you glaring at him like that?"

You freeze, mortified. “Not so loud!” you hiss, wincing at the noise in your head. “I wasn’t glaring. I was just… staring. I tried being nice.”

Lumine raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Right. Just staring like you wanted to murder him. I thought you were going to flirt?”

You groan internally, the embarrassment already creeping up.

“That was my attempt,” you say weakly.

Venti, trailing behind, chimes in unhelpfully. “You’re hopeless, Yn. How did Xiao’s awkward ass get a man before you did?”

Xiao, walking beside you, frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

Venti flashes a mischievous grin. “I mean, come on. He can barely string a sentence together, and yet, here we are... take some notes, Yn.”

Xiao crosses his arms, scowling, but you roll your eyes, tuning out the back-and-forth. There’s something heavier on your mind.

"I know I’m awkward," you mutter, glancing down at your shoes. "But I don’t think there’s any point in flirting with him. He doesn’t like me, and honestly, I’m just hoping this feeling… goes away."

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look.

“Even if that were true, there’s no harm in trying,” she points out, her voice gentle but firm. She doesn’t press further, though. Instead, the group continues toward the kitchen, the chatter from the other group filling the silence.

As you enter the kitchen, you scan the room. Mona’s already there, looking completely at ease, her eyes bright and unbothered. It’s a little strange, considering she was absolutely hammered out of her mind last night. You glance at Heizou too and he greets you with a smile, but there's a tiredness in his eyes that makes you pause for a moment. His usual carefree demeanor seems worn.

Because of you.

Before you can speak, a voice pipes up from underneath the table. It’s Yae’s voice, muffled but chipper, and she sounds far too cheerful for the morning after what was a particularly chaotic night.

Childe, who was sitting from where she popped up shrieks and practically jumps from his chair. “Don’t do that!”

Yae ignores him, her voice still carrying across the room. "Guess what I just heard? Apparently, last night, Scara and Mona kissed!"

You freeze. Your stomach does a strange flip. Your eyes instinctively snap to Mona, who is sitting across from you. Her face pales as she blinks at Yae in confusion. “We what?!” she exclaims, her tone high with disbelief.

Meanwhile, Scara, who’d been silently sipping coffee, seems to shrink into his seat, his usual stoic mask barely holding up under the weight of the accusation. He looks like he wants to disappear into the floor.

“There was no ‘we,’” Scara mutters, his voice sharp with irritation. “She kissed me. I’m not an asshole to take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Mona slaps a hand to her forehead, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face flushed crimson.

You thought you were done with this, but hearing it said aloud still manages to send a strange ripple through your chest. You knew the kiss hadn’t meant anything, especially with Scara’s angry words from last night. It stings, even though you tell yourself it shouldn’t.

Your eyes move back to Scara. His usual guarded expression is there, but you can see the frustration beneath it. He’s trying to act unaffected, but it’s clear that he’s anything but. You wonder if that’s how you’ve always made him feel. Unreachable.

But Mona’s outburst fades, and the silence that follows feels heavier than it should. You catch Scara’s eye again, and this time, you don’t look away. Neither does he. For a moment, he raises a brow at you, and you swear his lips curve ever so slightly.

“Well, that drama was short-lived,” Yae says, breaking the tension. “Can we milk it any further, or are we done here? What about you, Heizou?”

Heizou, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, speaks up. “We actually discussed how Yn holds no feelings for me.”

Yae sighs dramatically. “Why did we bring you three here, then?”

Diluc, who’s been quietly watching, finally speaks up. “I’m having a swell time.”

“Fuck, finally,” Yae huffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, whatever. We’ve got another activity, and I’m sure it’ll land you all a place in Paradise.”

“Is this one rigged?” Aether pipes up.

“A little,” Yae grins. “I’ll reveal it at the end. Anyway, we’re doing a Scavenger Hunt! Pairs, but since we’ve got an odd number... Heizou, you’re going solo.”

You wince at that, already guilty for rejecting Heizou’s advances all this time.

“You each get an item to collect. Shells, flowers, rocks, etcetera. Nothing too athletic. Go out and explore, and bring back as much as you can,” Yae continues, casually ignoring the obvious tension.

“But you assigned us flowers,” Scara interrupts, “All the flowers are in the woods.”

“Yes, and?” Yae smiles, unbothered.

“And the woods are up in that mountain,” Scara points out, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You want us to climb that?”

Yae simply smiles.

“I don’t like you,” Scara grumbles.

“I love you, too,” Yae laughs. “Moving on, we’ll meet back before lunchtime! Get going!”

୨୧✧

You get paired with Scaramouche, obviously, but unlike the other times you don’t find yourself too mad about it. You both knew no matter how good or bad you did at the game they’d rig it around you both, so you take your time making your way up the trail. Or what you both assumed to be a trail.

You both stood at the foot of the raging path ahead of you, mentally preparing yourselves to walk up it. Scara digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a handful of gummies.

“I didn’t take you for a sweet tooth,” you murmur.

He scoffs, grabbing your hand with his free one and letting a few fall onto your skin. You try, and fail, to ignore the warmth of his skin upon yours.

“It’s not candy,” he says, walking ahead of you. You stare at the not candy in your palms and then at his retreating back before throwing them back. Anything to help the swirling pit in your stomach.

You don’t talk much. The silence stretches between you, both of you awkward in your own way. You’re searching for something interesting to say, but the words won’t come.

It’s not until you reach a fallen tree that Scara climbs over and reaches a hand out to you.

“Careful,” he says simply.

You take his hand, letting him pull you over, but as you do, your foot catches on a branch. You find yourself pressed against his chest, and for a moment, neither of you moves. He doesn’t pull away until you shift, pulling yourself off him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, already embarrassed, but then his fingers brush against your cheek.

“You’ve got dirt on you,” he says, his tone surprisingly soft. “Walk slowly.”

Your cheeks burn as you watch him walk ahead, hoping the shade of the trees is doing a better job than your body at hiding the blush creeping up your neck.

Eventually, you both come across a small meadow filled with flowers. You kneel down, picking a few, letting the petals twirl in your fingers. You hear a rustling beside you, and when you look up, Scara is crouched next to you, holding a flower in his hand.

“Here,” he hums, and before you can say anything, he tucks it behind your ear. A gust of wind carries the petals, some of them landing in his hair, and for a moment, the sight takes your breath away.

“I didn’t think sunflowers grew here,” he mutters, pulling the petals from his hair.

“Leave it,” you say, almost breathless. “It’s pretty.”

He stares at you for a long second, his eyes unreadable and a fistful of petals in his hands. He ‘s silent before he lets the petals fall into your hair. “Have them,” he says, his voice low. “They’re like you, anyway.”

You blink, unsure what to say.

“How?” you manage to ask, voice shaking slightly.

Scara eyes you for a beat before answering.

“You follow the sun,” he says, standing up and brushing off his pants. “And people can’t seem to get enough of you.”

He doesn’t look back as he speaks, his gaze fixed ahead. After a beat, he adds, almost offhandedly, “Sunflowers aren’t too bad to look at, either.”

You’re left standing there, watching him walk away, his words hanging in the air like a soft, lingering echo.

Maybe you weren’t a sunflower. Maybe you were a cherry blossom instead. Cherry blossoms fall at five centimeters per second, and you’ve been

falling

…falling

……falling

since the day you met him. Even if there wasn’t any gravity on Earth, you’d probably fall for him eleven times out of ten.

୨୧✧

You both reach the peak, breathless. Neither of you were exactly built for this. “Rock,” you manage to say, sinking onto it before Scara can even respond. The sweat trickling down your neck probably isn’t doing your attempt at flirting any favors.

He sits down beside you, letting the flowers you picked tumble to the ground. The sun filters through the trees, but you still get a decent view of the ocean. You glance to your left. Scara’s staring at it, the wind ruffling his hair.

Your head spins, but you can’t tell if it’s from the lack of oxygen or because of him. “Sorry about your mom,” you say, trying to break the silence. It’s also a way to make up for not checking in on him last night. You never did see if he was okay. You probably should’ve. He chuckles softly, the sound surprising in its warmth.

“Not your fault.” You fall quiet after that, the words you want to say stuck somewhere in your throat. “Just spit it out,” he says, leaning back on the rock, eyes still on the horizon. He always knows when you’re holding back. “If your mom hadn’t paid Mona off, would you have kept dating her?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You expect him to scoff or brush you off, like he usually would. But his answer comes quickly

“It wouldn’t have lasted anyway,” he says, voice low. He picks a flower from your discarded bouquet and twirls it between his fingers. “We weren’t suited for each other. She hated how much I focused on work, and said I was too much. I just wish she’d broken up with me herself, though.” You nod, his words strangely comforting. “Besides,” he adds casually, “All we ever did was have hate sex.” You choke on a surprised laugh, coughing at the suddenness of it. And then…he laughs. Actually fucking laughs. The sound is so rare, you find yourself wanting to drown in it. “Prude,” he teases, watching you with a sly grin. You compose yourself, shooting him a glare. “Not a prude.” “I beg to differ.” You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Another question bubbles up, one you can’t resist asking. “Was she your first?” He’s silent for a beat, then answers with a firm, “Nope.” “Was she your only?” He glances at you, brows raised. “Why do you care?” Because you like him. Maybe it’s something a little more than that. Something you haven’t dared to admit to yourself yet. The answer is right there on your tongue, but you swallow it down.

“Just being nosey,” you say, trying to brush it off. “Didn’t think you could pull anyone else.”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “She wasn’t. But after her, I stopped having casual sex.”

You scoff. “But I heard you’ve hooked up with half the industry?”

“What tabloid did you read that in?” he smirks. “You know there’s shit other than sex, right? Or do I need to give you sex ed?”

His words hang in the air, the implication making your cheeks flush with heat. You must’ve looked taken aback, because he doesn’t hesitate to press on.

“Half of them were just blowjobs backstage.”

You choke from his words again.

“God, you are a prude.”

“Shut up,” you muster out before continuing, “Don’t you miss it? I thought you liked…sex?”

His smirk is there before you even have a chance to respond. “Well, yeah. Who doesn’t?”

You stop, unsure why you even care enough to ask. Well, you were pretty sure. You’d thought he’d just shut you out.

“What, spit it out,” He presses, and you almost want to avoid his gaze, but you can’t.

“Wouldn’t someone like you get...?” you murmur, barely above a whisper, feeling the heat rising in your neck.

He stared at you. Then he shifts, almost as if to tease.

“Do I need to explain to you what self pleasure is? Ever heard of mastur–.”

“Shut up!” You cut him off, shoving his shoulder, your heart pounding in your ears. But he just smiles, grins, really. And you can’t help but notice how that smile hits you harder than it should.

How had you gone so long without seeing it?

By the time you and Scaramouche make it back down, your heads are clearer, and the afternoon sun is already at its peak. Lunchtime. Scanning the scene, you both realize you’ve managed to collect more of the required items than anyone else.

“We got distracted,” Venti mutters, holding up the single, sad shell he and Aether managed to gather.

“It’s no matter,” Yae waves him off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “This whole thing was rigged anyway.”

Lumine, ever observant, scans the group. “Aren’t we missing a few people?”

“Oh right, I completely forgot,” Yae laughs lightly, tapping her chin. “Heizou and Mona took off while you were all busy with the game.”

You’re a little taken aback by the news. You’d been hoping to talk to Heizou again before he left, but now... you’re not so sure. Maybe it’s better left unsaid. You’ve probably hurt him enough as it is.

Scaramouche’s reaction to his ex leaving couldn’t be more different.

“Thank the Archons,” he mutters, clasping his hands together in exaggerated relief, causing Kazuha to shoot him a bemused side-eye.

“Anyway,” Yae interrupts, snapping the group’s attention back to her, “Back to the show. Let’s see the results.” She glances around at the gathered group, raising an eyebrow. “Good grief, did any of you actually try? The one couple we rigged was the one that won.”

Xiao speaks up dryly. “You told us to collect rocks.”

“Yeah, and those,” Yae hums, tapping her chin and gesturing toward the small pebbles in Kazuha’s palms, “Are definitely not rocks. Never mind that, though.” She raises her voice slightly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “The pair who collected the least will be spending the night on this island, while the rest of you get to go to Paradise.”

She feigns a gasp, dramatically sweeping her gaze across the group. “Congratulations to everyone except Scaramouche and Yn! You two will be spending the night here on this hell island, while the rest of us head to Paradise... including the crew!”

The others around you celebrate, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

Tonight, everyone will be gone.

And it will just be you and him.

Alone.

[00:00:00] GOODBYE INTERVIEW ONE

YAE: So, how does it feel to go home empty handed?

HEIZOU: Honestly, I got the closure I needed.

YAE: But not the lover you wanted?

JEAN: YAE!

YAE: Sorry, sorry!

HEIZOU: [LAUGHS] It’s alright. I get it. But yeah.

YAE: Anything you would’ve done differently?

HEIZOU: [QUIET FOR A FEW MOMENTS] Probably have gotten to know Yn a bit more. I would’ve saved a lot of money on snacks they didn’t actually like.

YAE: What a gentleman! Great send off. We’ll miss you, Heizou!

HEIZOU: [SMILES] I’m sure you will, bye.

YAE: And cut!

[00:32:10] GOODBYE INTERVIEW TWO

YAE: So…how are we feeling girl?

MONA: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS LET ME GET SHITFACED ON TV!

YAE: [LAUGHS] It made for great television, how are you feeling?

MONA: So embarrassed. But I’m glad I came and put on a show. Any publicity is good publicity.

YAE: And what about the ex you left on that island? Any regrets about him?

MONA: Oh believe me, a lot. But, I shall just carry on with my life! I’ve embarrassed myself enough on this hell island.

YAE: [LAUGHS] Fair enough. Any jealous feelings towards anyone else on the island?

MONA: [ROLLS EYES] You know what you’re doing. I’ve lost enough fans from trying to kiss Scara. I’ll say no comment.

YAE: Well, I tried folks. Goodbye, Mona!

MONA: Mwah!

YAE: CUT!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

me googling where sunflowers and cherry blossoms grow and then realizing it isn’t that deep so just pretend for me okay thanks

scara taking an edible to try and flirt he’s so real

peep the lyrics in scaras story like YN OPEN UR EYES but yeah at this point yn is coming to realize scara might like them back 🤭

kinda insecure about this chapter so pls lmk if u liked 😣 pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — i’ve gotten like 8 hours of sleep in total last week i’m lowk goin thru it guys i hate college 😭 pls send me asks about swy or anything i need motivation i’m bashing my head into da wall as we speak

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

#stuck with you smau #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact headcanons #genshin smau #scaramouche smau #genshin x gender neutral reader #scaramouche genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #if ur reading this the next chapter is the smut lmao

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bigification · 2 days ago

Text

Lumberjack - A TF Short

"Why did I need to come here dad?" You whine.

"This is important, son. It's a family tradition." He responds, clearly tired of convincing you.

"Look, I already told you a million times, I'm not gonna be a lumberjack like you." You try to plead with him as you enter the department store.

"Just give it a try, we'll start with some woodworking to get you started and if you still don't like it I'll stop asking." He says as he holds his hand out.

"Deal." You smile and shake his hand.

You're 99 percent sure you're not gonna like it, so maybe this will finally get him off your back about this whole family business thing. Your father is nothing if not honest, so it feels like a weight off your back that he might actually stop nagging you about it.

"Here we are." He says as you turn into the lumber aisle. "Why don't you grab a few two by fours." He asks.

It doesn't bring you joy, but you promised you'd give it a chance. You walk up to the wall of wood planks, scanning for which ones are two by fours.

"Not that one." Your father says with concern as you grab the wrong plank. "Just to the right."

Your hand wanders to the right until it meets a large two by four. You wrap your hand around it and try to pick it up, but you can't. You try a few times to lift it off the shelf, to no avail. Is it just too heavy? Are you really that weak that you can't even lift one plank of wood? That can't be right.

The silence is broken by a cracking sound coming from your hand. You watch in horror as your hand starts to grow, the bones cracking and reshaping as your palm doubles in size and your fingers become thick and calloused. It somehow feels comfortable holding the plank of wood now. Your hand is large enough to nearly wrap around the whole plank, and the callouses protect from the splinters sticking out of the wood. Why does it feel so... familiar?

You don't have to think about it though. As if it was spreading up from your hand. Your forearm grows thicker than your biceps and your biceps triple in size in an instant, ripping right through the sleeves of your shirt. Thick veins start to surface along the defined muscles on your arms.

Your other arm quickly follows suit, making you look like a cartoon character with massive arms and a tiny body. That wouldn't last long however.

Your shirt rips even more as your shoulders broaden with bulging muscles. Your flat chest suddenly bursts outward with muscle, quickly becoming two juicy pecs that strain your shirt to its limits. Your pudgy belly melts away to reveal a perfectly defined eight pack. Even your waist slims down, creating a perfect V shaped upper body.

The transformation has only just begun. You feel a tightness grow in your shorts. Your free hand wanders over to your crotch. Your dick feels much smaller down on account of having hands twice as large as before. Although you start to feel your underwear tighten as the bulge in your shorts grows and grows until it fits perfectly inside your massive man hands.

Your shorts continue to get tighter when your flat ass begins to rise like a loaf of bread, growing into two perky fat globes. It doesn't help when your thighs swell to twice the size, forcing you to spread your legs just to walk. Oh, and a man as well hung as you needs a pair of beastly feet to match. The straps on your sandals don't stand a chance against your Sasquatch feet, growing to a monstrous size 20.

Then the transformation finally starts to make its way to your head. Your neck thickens, your jaw widens, your nose grows longer, your brow bone sticks out more. Then it hits you. Your eyes widen as your brain starts to change. Everything you learned in university is gone in an instant and replaced with the memories of a real man, like your father. Axes, saws, and sex are all you know. Your brain also pumps your body with a surplus of testosterone. A light brown beard sprouts along your sharp jawline. It spreads down your neck to your pecs and along your eight pack. You keep the rest under check, but you would look like Bigfoot in a week if you didn't shave.

"You sure it's the two by fours you want?" You ask your father in a deep gruff voice.

There is an awkward silence for a moment.

"Son?" Your father says.

You turn to face him.

"Why don't you flex for me?" He asks.

It was a weird request, but you'll never turn down a chance to flex for someone.

"You've been hitting the gym, haven't you?" He compliments you.

"Yeah, I'm glad you noticed. Maybe you should come with me." You tease him by pinching the fat in his gut.

"You know I used to look just like you when my pops was teachin me. But us lumberjacks need to eat well to make it through the day." He chuckles.

"I'll be fine with chicken and rice." You respond.

"Oh, just you wait until I've got you workin in the forest with me. You'll be begging for seconds and thirds. Soon enough you'll look just like your old man." He continues laughing while he shakes his gut. "Now c'mon, let's get you in some real clothes. None of those shitty gym clothes." He says excitedly as he walks away.

#male tf #masculine #male transformation #hairy #reality change #muscle tf #muscle

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strawchocoberry · 1 day ago

Text

RISKY

‘Cause you’re wearing nothing but your perfume… It’s one hell of a view…

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. blade x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. smut, meanperv!blade, potential dubcon, car sex, outdoor sex, jerking off, degradation kink, praise kink, rough sex, nipple play, choking, slight manhandling, breeding kink

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. you call him out for being a perv — word count. 2.1k

Blade is quiet as usual while driving his sleek red sports car. You’re sitting on the passenger seat, occasionally stealing glances of him. You can’t help it—and I’m not blaming you. Bladie looks so attractive all focused on the road ahead as he shifts gears and accelerates the car. You’ve grown used to having a sleep-deprived, suicidal driver. And though your heart continues to beat like crazy, now it’s for entirely other reasons—impure reasons.

The two of you have just finished a successful infiltration mission given to you by Elio. Everything went according to the ‘script,’ so all’s well that ends well. You barely remember what the mission was about, too focused on the man driving next to you. Suits look good on him, you think as your eyes roam over his body, clad in that perfectly tailored dark suit. Your own dress is just as perfect, a little gift from Kafka; a fitted long black dress of silk with a split leg on the right side. No wonder you and Blade stole the show back there.

“You’re staring,” Blade says, not missing a beat, his eyes still focused on the road ahead. They flicker to you for a brief second, the hint of a smirk ghosting over his lips, before he turns his attention back to the peaceful night street.

“I’m not,” you retort, folding your arms to your chest. Your defensive tone betrays you, earning a chuckle from him.

“Mhm,” is all he responds, the sound laced in sarcasm. He doesn’t believe you one bit.

“As if you weren’t staring at me back there,” you mumble begrudgingly. You prop your elbow on the door and lean against your palm, your eyes taking in the blurred images of your surroundings as the car pierces through the night, the air caressing your skin, your hair dancing behind you. You’re determined to ignore him, though you can’t help but murmur, “Perv.”

Blade bursts out laughing, the sound rich and filling the entire car, lingering in your eyes long after he’s calmed down, somewhat. His shoulders are still shaking with small laughs. You narrow your eyes at him, clearly annoyed by his laughter, though he doesn’t look at you once, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“So funny, yes,” you say, sarcasm dripping all over your words. “I called you a ‘perv’ and you’re laughing. My, I didn’t know you’d find that so funny, Bladie.”

“Were you hoping for another reaction?” he asks, his tone suggestive, hinting at what you were indeed expecting.

“Hmph!” You turn your head towards the other side. “In your dreams.”

The car comes to a stop at a red light, which confuses you, since you’re the only car around. Plus, you’re Stellaron Hunters, wanted posters of you are hung around all over the cosmos. A minor offence like crossing a red light is nothing compared to all the other stuff you’ve done.

“Since when do you care for—”

The sound of his seat belt unbuckling barely registers, as Blade interrupts you by capturing your lips. For a moment, you’re just looking at him, eyes widened, staring into his own, feeling his smirk against your lips. He wraps a delicate hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, giving him the perfect change to slide his tongue through your parted lips. Your hands come up to his chest, meaning to push him away, but they ultimately just remain there, palms planted over the hard muscles of his chest, as you lose yourself in him.

When Blade finally breaks the kiss, your ragged breaths echo in the deafening silence, though that infuriating smirk on his lips is louder than the thrumming of your heart. He looks so maddeningly smug as he buckles up again, you want to smack that smirk off his face. You raise your hand to hit him, only for Blade to catch it midair, interlacing your fingers, as your entwined hands rest now on his thigh as he drives away.

“Fucking perv,” you curse under your breath, though you can feel the heat increasing in your cheeks.

Blade casually handles the car with one hand, while raising your hands to his lips. “Right, I’m a ‘perv,’” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin. He doesn’t break eye-contact with the road ahead as he kisses your hand, sneakily biting you, before resting your hands back on his thigh. You try to slip your hand from his, but he only tightens his grip. And eventually, you give up.

After a while, when the car comes to a halt and Blade cuts the engine, you look around at the secluded spot he’s stopped. No cars, barely any lights, only a vast and open space by the side of the highway. This time, you hear it, loud and clear, the sound of his seat belt as he takes it off. Blade leans closer to you, his eyes roaming over you like a predator sizing up its prey, his fingers threading through the silky locks of your hair.

“Why did you stop here?” you ask, your voice thankfully coming out steady. “We need to head back and report to Elio.”

“Elio can wait,” Blade responds, clicking your seat belt open and leaning even closer, practically caging you between himself, the seat and the door. “But a ‘perv’ like me can’t.”

“Y-You mean…” You gulp down hard, your eyes nervously looking around at your surroundings as if expecting someone to show up. “Right here?”

“What?” Blade says, feigning ignorance, though his smirk betrays him. “Isn’t this what you wanted, princess? I thought all that staring and you calling me a ‘perv’ was because you wanted me to pull up to the side of the highway and pay attention to you.” His hand slips underneath your dress through the opening, climbing higher to your core. His fingers briefly rub over your panties, the damp fabric making his smirk more vexing than it already is. “Or was I wrong?” he taunts, as if the answer isn’t obvious.

His hands cup your ass, lifting you off the seat, as he kisses your body over the fabric of your dress. One hand keeps your hips up, whilst the other fists the dress, pulling it up to your waist. You watch with a bated breath as Blade takes the waistband of your panties between his teeth and slides it down, lifting your legs up to take it off. When he slides it off your ankles, he brings it to his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, your cheeks catching fire at the sight.

“You—! What are you—!”

“Isn’t this what a ‘perv’ does?” Blade asks, stuffing your panties into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. His fingers grab the zipper of your dress, easily unzipping it and taking it off over your head, throwing it down on your legs. He cannot help but let out a low growl, the sound reverberating through his chest at the sight of your naked body.

“S-Someone might see us,” you protest, although you lean your head back to give him better access to your neck, as he kisses you, sucking and leaving hickeys.

Blade smirks as he looks up at you, his hands moving to your waist. “Nobody will see us,” he reassures. Before you have the time to complain once more, he shuts you up by kissing you again. One arm wraps around your waist, while the other slides up, gripping the back of your neck, as he pulls you closer to him. He keeps you hostage as he devours you, pressing your naked body against his suit-clad one, your breasts flattening against the hard muscles of his chest, your nipples erecting into little buds at the friction.

When he pulls back, he lets you slump on the passenger seat as Blade leans against his own seat. Your eyes never leave him, watching him effortlessly unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, shoving them down along with his underwear just enough to free his aching cock. You watch as he angles himself better to look at you, his calloused hand wrapping around his dick and stroking the shaft, as his eyes roam over you, focusing on the marks he’s already left on your neck.

“Your gaze tells me you want to ride my dick,” Blade coos, his hand still stroking his cock, his eyes now locked on yours.

“I-I don’t!” Your cheeks burn and you hate how your high-pitched tone betrays you, even though all you want is to refute his words. But even if you managed to sound more unbothered, he can see it in your eyes and all over your body that you’re burning up with desire, just like him.

Blade reaches out to you and helps you climb on his lap, your back to him. You feel him align himself with your entrance and your hands reach up to grab onto the windscreen. He grabs your waist and roughly slams your body down against him, groaning at the familiar sensation of your sweet cunt wrapped around his girth.

“Fuck… I missed this,” Blade breathes out. His hands hold your waist as he sets a relatively slow tempo at first, giving you some time to adjust to him. Soft moans and mewls leave your lips, the sounds all the reassurance he needs to pick up the pace. He thrusts up inside you in rhythm with him slamming you down on him, hitting that spot deep inside you that has your eyes gazing at the back of your skull.

“B-Blade, s-so big…” you shamelessly moan into the night. “Slow down…”

Blade slaps your ass harshly, making you clench around him, as he caresses the already reddening spot. “I thought you were scared we’d get caught,” he coos. He leans closer, leaving a kiss to your shoulder blade. “What happened? Is this perv’s cock so good, you forgot all about your shyness now? Hmm, princess?”

His hands move up to cup your breasts, feeling their weight and how they fill his palms. He toys with your nipples, pinching and twisting them to draw out more of your sweet little whimpers he adores. All the while you’re now riding his cock all on your own; just like he had said you would. Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the windscreen, but you couldn’t care less right now, your mind only filled with Blade.

He kisses your back, biting at your sides and inhaling your signature perfume, getting intoxicated in the aroma and that scent that’s uniquely you. He can feel you getting close to your orgasm and can’t help teasing you. “Look at you, princess,” he taunts. “Such a good cock sleeve for a perv like me. Will you let me cum inside you too? Hmm? Will you let me fill this pretty pussy?”

“Yes! Oh Aeons— Yes, please!” you moan, completely out of your mind. The only thought ruling over you is your impending orgasm. “Please, Blade!”

“My my,” he coos, his hands returning to grab your waist. Wasting no time, Blade grips your waist bruisingly tight, as he starts fucking you even rougher than before, driving both of you to the edge of pleasure and ecstasy.

You’re babbling all kinds of incoherent words along with his name, when Blade slams you down on him one last time, burying himself to your depths as he cums thick ropes of cum inside you. Your pussy flutters and convulses around his shaft, milking every last drop of his seed, as he pulls your trembling body to rest against him.

“Such a perfect cum slut,” Blade whispers in your ear, eliciting a whiny moan from your lips. He tilts your head to the side and kisses your lips, consuming all of your whimpers and complaints along with the rest of you.

When the kiss breaks, you’re slightly dazed, the remnants of your orgasm still gleaming in your beautiful eyes, letting your body rest against his. Blade doesn’t move for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

But then, he starts thrusting up inside you, a white ring forming around his cock from your mixed essences.

“Blade!” you scold. “We need to get back! Elio will be furious if we take any longer!” You try to escape, but his hold on your body is as solid as steel. “And… I’m somewhat sore…”

Blade laughs, the sound reverberating on your back. He sucks on your neck and leaves another hickey to an empty spot, all the while still pounding into you. “Elio can wait,” he finally responds to your concerns. “As for being sore already…” he trails off as his eyes lock with yours.

There’s a fire in his red orbs that threatens to burn you alive. And despite your mind’s warnings, you find yourself wanting to eternally burn in this man’s fire.

“I can only promise you’ll be sore for a long time after I’m done with you, princess.”

#౨ৎ ─ strawchocoberry #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade smut

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taabee · 23 hours ago

Text

Jealous little fish

Pair: Rafayel x Y/N reader

Warning: none, fem!reader, rafayel being cute and jealous, fluff stuff

If rafayel was regretting anything, it was the goldfish he had given you 3 months ago, as a gift to celebrate your move to his home. You had finally moved in with him, but if he could throw those fish down the toilet he would. But he couldn't, why?…because you wouldn't stop looking at them, taking care of them and even talking beautifully to them. ' You just talk nice to him' thought Rafayel, when Thomas tapped him on the shoulder and brought him out of his trance.

“Sir, we have to go now, or else we won't make it in time for the exhibition,” says Thomas. Rafayel was invited to an event, which he didn't want to go - . But he had to do it…somehow he had to generate money. “Yes I know…just give me 10 minutes” says rafayel, watching as thomas walks away and heads for the exit of the home. He approaches you, who was looking at her pets with great care and amazement. “baby?” rafayel speaks softly, trying to control his irritation. “mhhh?” you reply without taking your eyes off the fish. Rafayel takes a deep breath. “I'm going now…see you in a few hours” he says a little annoyed. You look at him, with a smile and move in for a kiss. But he turns his face away. For a moment, you were going to argue. But by his pout, and by the expression on his face. You can tell he's doing one of his tantrums. You stand a little on your toes, and give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Ok, enjoy yourself a lot, here I wait for you!!!” you speak, turning all your attention to your new pets.

Rafayel turns away quickly, even more annoyed. You didn't even ask him how he was, and why he refused your goodbye kiss. You simply ignored him. And if there was one thing Rafayel hated most, it was being ignored. He got into the car, where Thomas was waiting for him. And slamming the door very hard, “Start!” rafayel orders. Thomas says nothing, but laughs to himself. Rafayel was having a toddler tantrum right now. “When we leave the event, we'll buy a giant bowl of chlorine,” rafayel says. Crossing his hands and looking out.

The event ran smoothly, good business was done. But he kept looking at his phone all night. He was still waiting for you to text or call him.

Arriving home, Rafayel said goodbye to Thomas, telling him to go home and rest. Entering through the door, he saw that the lights were off. A few candles gave a quiet atmosphere. And only the light of the fish tank was the strongest. Giving a beautiful reflection, and something aquatic to the walls of his home. He had to admit that it reminded him of his old home…but there you were. Feeding your fish, as you turned to greet him.

“Hi love!!!” you run up to him, to wrap your arms around his neck. This time he wasn't going to deny you a kiss. Rafayel kissed you back, and moved his arms around your waist hugging you tightly over his body. “I missed you” he says softly, you can feel the weight of his head fall on your shoulder. “mmm you poor thing, you must be tired… but could you get more clients?” you ask, looking at rafayel for a moment, he had a tired smile on his face. “I have 12 clients…12 paintings to do” rafayel speaks, I feel you hug him.” Congratulations!” you snuggle more into his chest, both of you staying there for a moment.

“How about I set up the tub, and we take a long, relaxing bubble bath?” rafayel says, noticing how your eyes light up with joy. Both you and he needed to relax. “Perfect, go get everything ready…I'll go get something” you say, turning away from Rafayel, running towards his room. Rafayel chuckled a little, you didn't know what you were up to, but it was going to flow. Taking a quick glance at the fish tank, seeing how the fish were looking at him. “If you guys think you're competition for me…you're wrong” Rafayel speaks, as he begins to fill the tub. A tub that was in his own living room, a living room that was in his studio. Rafayel's house was complicated but beautiful.

“She will spend more time with you, but she prefers me,” touching the water to make sure it was good. Taking off his clothes, he laid them on the floor. “I'm going to cook you…and then” Rafayel hadn't noticed but you had already arrived in the room. You could see how he was arguing with the fish, and you didn't know how to react. “Rafa…” you speak, seeing how he looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh, my love…look, the tub is ready” Rafayel signals with his hands for you to join him. You shake your head slightly, ignoring what just happened.

Getting close to the bathtub. “Look…I bought these patches to reduce swelling. They're shaped like kitty whiskers” you show him the package, you were sitting on the edge of the tub. Rafayel makes a face, “I'm not going to use those” he says, while you pinch his nose a little. “Sure you are…they are good for you” you speak, as you get up to start removing your clothes. Rafayel adjusts a little, leaning back now on the edge of the tub. Enjoying the view. You may have lived just recently, but two years of relationship was more than enough for there to be that intimacy and trust that Rafayel so craved. He loved seeing you confident in front of him.

You take off your shirt, then your pants…and then proceed to take off your underwear. You glance at rafayel from time to time, he has a lovely look on his face…as if your whole being is a work of art, and he is just admiring it. “You are so beautiful” rafayel says in a low voice. “mmm do you think so?” you ask, as you step into the tub. Rafayel helps you a little, taking your hand. So that you can settle close to him. “Of course I do…every part of you, is a work of art” Rafayel comes closer to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “And so are you” you reply, nuzzling your nose with his. “Well…which one do you want?” you show him the packages, and rafayel has no choice but to accept. “I like this one,” he says, watching as you excitedly open the package.

About 20 minutes have passed, and you were lying on rafayel's lap, while playing with his hair, making him kitty ears with the help of the bubbles. While he simply enjoyed your attention. “You would make a very grumpy and scary kitty” you tease. “Ahh yes?” rafayel pulls you closer to him, tickling you a little. You both giggle in the process. The moment is interrupted when you hear a tapping of glass. You can see Rafayel pull away from you a little, and look back at the fish tank with a pout.

You laugh to yourself, but it was loud enough for Rafayel to hear. “Why are you laughing?” he asks, somewhat annoyed. “Are you jealous of …. some fish?” you look at him for a moment, you can notice how his cheeks turned red, and his face started to make that grimace he always did when he was on the edge of a tantrum. “No…how do you think!!!” he yells a little, letting go of you to cross his arms. He looked so adorable, fussing with his little kitty ears made out of bubble. You wanted to shower him with kisses. “Are you sure?” you tease him a little.

“Well…yeah, so what's up? Lately you're just looking at them, saying how cute they are and blah blah blah blah” rafayel explodes. You put your hand to your mouth, in order to control your laughter. “Don't laugh” complains rafayel, he was getting embarrassed by his behavior, but it was something he couldn't control. “Why do you think I would trade my great little merman for some fish?” you joke, moving closer to rafayel, so that your body lies fully on top of him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Very close to his face, only to give him a soft kiss on his chin. “ They…ahhhh” he was frustrated.

You are silent for a moment, and trying to understand this sudden jealousy. He wasn't like that with other things…but with sea creatures. Rafayel felt that fish were competition for him…. you couldn't believe it. “They get all your attention, I just…I want your attention to be only for me,” Rafayel says, looking you in the eye. “Did I tell you that your eyes are beautiful?” you say suddenly. Seeing how rafayel's face breaks into a smile. “yes…about a thousand times” he laughs a little. As he hugs you closer. “I'm a fool, aren't I?” rafayel asks you.

“Yes, you are my dumbest little fish” you move in for a kiss, but rafayel stops you. Holding your chin with his hand. “Do you promise to love me forever?” he asks, you can see that look. One you had seen many times since you got together, always of fear and worry. “ Until eternity….even if you become a fish” you joke, and watch as he laughs. Catching your lips.

The fish stayed and the fish tank stayed in the same place….until eternity.

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x mc #rafayel x y/n #rafayel smut #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel fluff #rafayel fanfic #love and deepspace fluff #lads #love and deepspace reader #love and deepspace imagine #love and deepspace smut

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motherismotheringggg · 2 days ago

Note

I would love if you write some enemies to lovers for nicholas chavez and reader, it could be some like how to lose a guy in 10 days or 10 things i hate about you, something like that, with a happy ending, i dont know exactly, i just know that i love everything that you write ❤️

match point 🎾

summary: based on this lovely request!! i added a tennis element to it because tennis feels very “enemies to lovers” coded to me for some reason

type: nicholas chavez x black plus sized fem reader

tags/warnings: 18+, angst, misread fatphobia (i promise it’s not in there but i don’t wanna trigger anyway), oral (m! and f! receiving), face fucking, cream pie

word count: ~8493

author’s note: confession, i’ve never seen either of those movies and i know i need to!!! either way, i liked this bc im lowkey missing summer rn so this helped — i hope you like it!!!

taglist: @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @emluvsuxo , @ilovecheetahchrome , @nicholaschavezslut69 , @nicholaslut , @niteskysx , @melaninjhs , @pawofassumption

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

The cicadas were already singing their lazy summer song when you arrived at the outdoor tennis courts, the air thick with humidity and the faint tang of freshly cut grass. The afternoon sun hung high, its rays bouncing off the court’s faded green surface and making the white lines shimmer like a mirage. You adjusted the strap of your bag, trying to ignore the way sweat was already pooling at the base of your neck, dampening the curls of your wash-and-go style.

This was supposed to be fun—a way to meet new people and settle into a city that still felt foreign and a little lonely. The open lessons had sounded perfect in theory, a casual way to break the ice while learning a new skill. But as you scanned the court, the pit in your stomach deepened.

Clusters of players were already warming up, their easy camaraderie apparent in the way they laughed and called out to one another. Most of them were lean, athletic types, the kind who looked like they spent their weekends hiking or doing yoga. You tugged at the hem of your tank top, suddenly hyper-aware of how it clung to your curves.

“Okay, let’s get started!”

The coach’s voice boomed across the court, drawing your attention. He was wiry and sunburnt, with the kind of leathery skin that suggested decades spent outdoors. A whistle hung around his neck, and his clipboard was already dotted with names and notes.

You moved toward the group, slipping into the back of the huddle as he began assigning partners. The air buzzed with excitement, punctuated by the rhythmic thwack of balls hitting rackets in the distance.

Just as you were beginning to relax, a low murmur rippled through the group. You turned in time to see a tall figure sauntering toward the court.

Nicholas Chavez.

He was the kind of beautiful that made you pause—messy dark hair, honey-brown eyes that seemed to catch the sunlight, and a jawline sharp enough to make you wonder if he’d walked off the pages of a magazine. He wore a black T-shirt and shorts, his broad shoulders and toned arms hinting at a strength that made it clear he wasn’t new to this.

As he got closer, he tossed a lazy glance toward the huddle, his gaze sweeping over the group. When his eyes landed on you, they lingered for a beat too long, and his brow twitched in a way that made your chest tighten.

“All right, let’s pair up,” the coach said, scanning his clipboard. His gaze landed on you, and you braced yourself. “Y/N, you’re with Nick.”

You forced a smile, clutching your racket like a lifeline. This was fine. You could handle this.

But the moment you looked back at Nicholas, you saw it: the flicker of hesitation in his expression, followed by the faintest lift of his brow. He didn’t say anything outright, but his reaction was loud enough. His gaze darted briefly to your shoulders, to the soft curve of your arms, before sliding back to your face with a faint smirk.

It wasn’t the smirk itself that stung—it was the way it felt so dismissive, like you were being appraised and silently deemed not worth the effort.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch.

Your stomach sank.

“Problem, Nick?” the coach called out, clearly catching the tail end of his remark.

Nicholas shrugged, spinning his racket lazily in one hand. “Nah,” he said, his voice smooth. “No problem.”

But as he turned and strode toward the far end of the court, his posture radiated a kind of casual arrogance that made your skin crawl.

The sun beat down mercilessly as you followed him to the court, your sneakers crunching against the gritty asphalt. By the time you reached the net, your irritation had reached a slow boil.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you said, trying to keep your tone even.

Nicholas didn’t respond, only gave a half-smile that somehow managed to be both infuriating and devastatingly attractive. He took his position without another word, and you adjusted your grip on the racket, determined to prove yourself.

But it didn’t take long for your annoyance to bubble over. Nicholas wasn’t even trying. He barely moved for volleys, his half-hearted swings making it clear he had no intention of putting in effort. When you lunged to keep the ball in play, your movements fueled by sheer determination, he had the audacity to let out a soft, amused laugh.

“Something funny?” you snapped, straightening as you glared at him.

He leaned casually on his racket, his honey-brown eyes glinting with something that made your pulse race—equal parts amusement and challenge. “You’re working pretty hard for this, huh?”

Your grip tightened. “That’s kind of the point,” you bit out. “It’s called practice.”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “But, you know, maybe you should pace yourself. Wouldn’t want to tire out too quickly.”

The words were innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flicked over you as he said them wasn’t. Your jaw clenched as heat rose to your face, though you weren’t sure if it was anger or embarrassment. Probably both.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said tightly. “I can handle myself.”

“Yeah?” His smirk widened, dimples flashing in a way that made you want to scream. “We’ll see.”

The last few volleys of practice felt like an eternity. The summer sun bore down relentlessly, baking the court and leaving a faint sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. Every muscle in your body ached, and each swing of your racket felt heavier than the last. Meanwhile, Nicholas moved across the court with maddening ease, barely breaking a sweat, his shots precise but lazy, like he wasn’t even trying.

“Good game, everyone!” the coach called out, blowing his whistle to signal the end of practice. Relief washed over you as you dropped your racket and grabbed your water bottle from your bag.

You lowered yourself to the ground with a graceless plop, sitting cross-legged near the sidelines and taking long gulps of water. The cool liquid was a godsend, but the heat still clung to you, making your skin feel sticky. You fanned yourself with one hand, trying to keep your breathing steady.

No one’s looking at you. Relax.

You repeated the mantra in your head, reminding yourself that you weren’t being perceived in the way your mind sometimes tricked you into thinking. Your confidence had always been solid—a hard-earned love for your body and all it had carried you through—but moments like this, when your stamina was stretched thin and the exhaustion was visible, made it easier for doubt to creep in.

“Mind if I join?”

The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see one of the other players—a girl around your age with a friendly smile and braids pulled into a high ponytail—gesturing to the space next to you.

“Go for it,” you said, gesturing for her to sit.

She plopped down beside you, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying out here. Who decided it was a good idea to play tennis in the middle of July?”

You laughed, grateful for the distraction. “Right? I feel like my shoes are melting into the court.”

“I’m Taylor, by the way,” she said, extending a hand.

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking it.

The two of you quickly fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, talking about everything from how intense the coach seemed to the best food spots in the city. Taylor’s humor was sharp and quick, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing so hard your sides ached more than from practice.

Just as you were starting to forget your earlier frustration, a shadow passed over you.

“Take it easy.”

You looked up to see Nicholas strolling by, his racket slung over his shoulder and a water bottle in hand. His tone was light, almost lazy, but the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise. He didn’t stop walking, didn’t even look back as he delivered the remark.

Your jaw clenched, heat rising to your face—not from the sun this time, but from irritation.

“Is he always like that?” you muttered, glancing at Taylor.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s just Nick. He’s kind of a jerk to everyone.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, standing up and brushing off your legs, “he’s got it down to an art.”

-----

The next practice was even hotter than the first, the summer sun relentless as it beat down on the courts. The air shimmered with heat, and the faint smell of sunscreen mixed with the tang of tennis balls and sweat. You showed up determined to ignore Nicholas entirely, but, unsurprisingly, he made that impossible.

It started when the group was working on backhands. You’d gotten the general motion, but the finer details still felt awkward, and after a few failed attempts, you lowered your racket and turned to the coach. “Sorry, can you show that one more time?” you asked.

Before the coach could answer, Nicholas let out a low whistle, leaning lazily on his racket. “Guess they’re really starting from scratch, huh?”

The words hit you like a sharp jab, and your grip tightened on your racket. Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to ignore him, even as irritation bubbled beneath the surface. Instead, you focused on the coach’s demonstration, determined not to let Nicholas’s snide comment throw you off.

Later in practice, you managed to land a sharp, satisfying volley during a rally. The ball skimmed over the net and landed squarely out of Nicholas’s reach. Pride swelled in your chest—until Nicholas turned to the coach, throwing his hands up dramatically.

“Look at that!” he called out, his smirk deepening as dimples framed his maddeningly smug expression. “She hit one!”

Laughter rippled faintly through the group, but all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. Heat crawled up your neck as you turned away, focusing on retrieving the ball and forcing yourself not to react. You clenched your jaw, gripping your racket so hard your knuckles ached.

By the end of practice, you were drenched in sweat, your tank top clinging to your skin, and your curls puffing out in defiance of the humidity. The exhaustion weighed heavy in your limbs, but all you could think about was getting out of there. You had plans to meet Taylor for dinner after, and every second spent on the court felt like it was cutting into your evening.

You tossed your racket into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, ready to bolt, but in your rush, the strap snagged on the bench. The zipper popped open, spilling your belongings onto the ground. Your water bottle rolled a few feet away, sunscreen and a spare shirt landing in a messy pile alongside the small notebook you used to jot down practice tips.

“Need some help?” Taylor asked, crouching down beside you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, hurriedly grabbing your sunscreen as she handed it to you. You scrambled to gather everything, feeling the heat from the court radiating through the soles of your shoes.

Before you could finish zipping up your bag, a shadow loomed over you.

“Careful,” Nicholas said, his voice light and casual, but with that familiar edge of condescension. “You’d probably move faster if you lightened your load a little.”

Your head snapped up, and before you could stop yourself, the words came out: “You’d probably move faster if you actually tried during practice instead of standing around acting like you’re too good for the rest of us.”

The air grew still, the quiet hum of cicadas the only sound as everyone turned to look at you. Your chest heaved as the words hung in the air, hot and sharp, your frustration boiling over in full view of the group.

Nicholas paused for a moment, then tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking into an infuriatingly lazy smile. “The heat’s getting to everyone, huh?”

A few of the other players chuckled awkwardly, but your glare didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem fazed, casually slinging his racket over his shoulder like nothing had happened.

“See you next time,” he said, his voice light as he turned and strolled off, leaving you standing there with your fists clenched.

Taylor rose to her feet beside you, muttering under her breath. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“I know” you said, your voice tight as you choked back tears, while you zipped up your bag and slung it over your shoulder.

As you walked off the court, your mind raced. No one had ever been able to needle you like this before, and it wasn’t just frustrating—it was confusing. You weren’t sure what Nicholas’s problem was.

-----

You decided to skip the next practice. You told yourself it was to give your body a break from the brutal summer heat and all the drills, but deep down, you knew the real reason: Nicholas Chavez. His smirks, his snide comments, the way he always managed to needle you just right—it had all been too much. You needed a breather.

Still, the itch to move lingered. By the evening time, when the sun had finally dipped enough to make the air bearable, you headed to the gym near the courts. You timed it perfectly, arriving after practice would’ve ended and to ensure no one else would be there.

The place was empty, just the quiet hum of the overhead fans and the rhythmic thump of your sneakers against the polished floor. You felt freer here, confident enough to shed your usual layers. In your sports bra and athletic shorts, you stretched, tying your curls up into a puff before grabbing your racket.

You put on your headphones and cranked up the volume, letting the beat drown out the world as you stepped onto the court. You started with easy volleys, but it didn’t take long for your pent-up frustration to bubble up. With every swing, you hit the ball against the wall at full power and speed, the sharp crack of impact echoing in the empty space. Each hit felt like a release—a way to channel all the irritation that Nicholas had stirred up in you.

You were in the zone, so focused on the rhythm of the ball and the music blasting in your ears that you barely noticed someone calling your name. It wasn’t until a break between songs that the sound finally cut through.

You froze mid-swing, turning to see none other than Nicholas standing near the entrance, his bag slung over one shoulder.

Of course.

You yanked back one side of your headphones, your annoyance flaring immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, walking toward you with that infuriatingly easy confidence.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Practice had ended two hours ago. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Gym’s empty, thought I’d get a quick practice in,” he continued, his tone casual. Then, with a tilt of his head, he added, “Didn’t mean to interrupt. You were really going at it.”

You rolled your eyes, already tempted to pack up and leave. But before you could move, he gestured to your racket.

“You’ve got a killer forehand,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of genuine admiration. “I saw that last one before I came in. Honestly… I wouldn’t mind if you showed me how you did it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. But the irritation was still simmering, and it bubbled over before you could stop yourself.

“Are you joking?” you said dryly. “You’ve been absolutely insufferable since the moment I met you. You’ve made me feel weird and out of place every single practice, and now you’re acting like none of that happened?”

Nicholas raised his hands, palms out, as if in surrender, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—amusement. He chuckled under his breath, which only made your temper flare more.

“And if you have a problem with fat girls,” you said, your voice sharp as you stared him down, “then just say it.”

The laugh died on his lips. For the first time since you’d met him, Nicholas looked caught off guard. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head quickly. “Wait—what? No. That’s not—”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I never meant to make you feel like that. I swear. I was just… being an idiot. Trying to be funny, I guess. Clearly, I failed at that.” His voice softened, and then he added, “For what it’s worth, I don’t have a problem with you. At all. You’re…” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping over you for a moment. “You’re hot. And you’ve got a killer body. I mean that.”

You blinked, stunned into silence. Of all the things you’d expected him to say, that hadn’t even been on the list.

For a moment, you just stared at him, your fiery temper cooling as his words settled in. There was something about the way he said it—cool and flirty, sure, but also sincere—that left you completely disarmed.

Finally, you exhaled and nodded. “Okay. Apology accepted.”

Nicholas smiled, this time a smirk of surrender rather than that familiar smirk as he took a step back toward his bag. “Guess I’ll leave you to it, then—”

“Wait.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder as you crossed your arms.

“You almost made me cry you know,” you said, your tone light but teasing. “So I think you owe me. In the form of walking me home—after I show you the move.”

His smirk widened, and he stepped back onto the court. “Deal.”

The two of you spent the next fifteen minutes practicing together. Nicholas was attentive, actually listening as you explained the technique, and for the first time, it felt… easy.

When the session ended, you walked side by side through the quiet streets, the summer air cooler now that the sun had set. The conversation flowed effortlessly—where you were both from, your favorite songs, the best smoothie spots after practice. By the time you reached your apartment building, you’d almost forgotten the Nicholas who’d made practice so unbearable.

There was a moment of silence as you stopped in front of your door. Nicholas glanced down at you, his honey-brown eyes warm under the glow of the streetlights.

You tilted your head, standing on your toes to get a little closer. With a smirk, you said, “And if you thought one itty bitty overdue apology was going to get me, you really need to get out more.”

Before he could respond, you patted him on the shoulder, turned, and headed inside.

“Good night, Nick,” you called over your shoulder.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good night, Y/N.”

-----

Over the next few weeks, something shifted between you and Nicholas. The jabs weren’t as sharp anymore, and the underlying venom had slowly been replaced by something else—something more playful, teasing, but still competitive.

You found yourself walking to practice together more often, your casual banter now peppered with teasing remarks, both of you pushing each other to be better. There was no denying that your attraction to him had grown—you’d try to shake it off at first, convincing yourself that the snarky, flirtatious back-and-forth was just that. But deep down, you knew it was something more.

Sometimes, after practice, you both stopped for smoothies. The conversation was easy, as if you’d known each other for years. You found yourself drawn to his dry humor, the way he would effortlessly make jokes even about the smallest things. You’d roll your eyes, but inside, you were smiling. There was a charm to him that you couldn’t quite ignore.

But despite the playful comments and flirtation, there was still a part of you that couldn’t tell if he was just being his usual cocky self or if there was something deeper there. After all, he’d told you that you were hot and even almost kissing you—yet it never felt like enough to confirm that he liked you back.

One afternoon, after practice, the two of you decided to hang back for some extra practice, the court still warm from the sun. The air was heavy with the scent of summer, but you were both determined to squeeze out a little more work. After a while, you both collapsed on the ground, breathless from the intensity.

As you went into your cool-down stretches, you groaned, stretching out your legs. “My legs are so tight,” you muttered, rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension.

Nicholas, ever the opportunist, watched you for a beat before giving you a crooked grin. “You know, I can help with that.”

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could respond, he was already moving to you.

“Lay on your back,” he instructed, and you did so without thinking.

He positioned himself between your legs as he gently lifted your right one, and pushed it back toward your chest. The strain on your muscles felt good, but the proximity of him only added to the tension. He didn’t seem to notice—at least, you hoped he didn’t—but when you let out an involuntary moan as your muscles stretched, the sound echoed across the empty court.

You froze, eyes widening, your face flushing with embarrassment. You quickly laughed to cover it up. “Echoing like that is crazy” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

Nicholas, ever the one to make light of the situation, chuckled. “Noted,” he said, voice teasing, his grin wide. “Definitely a screamer.”

You shot him a playful glare, but the heat from his words lingered as you pushed him off, “You’re so gross,” you gave him a playful nudge, finishing the stretching on your own.

The teasing didn’t stop there. A few days later, after another long practice, you and Nicholas were gathering your things when he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, “I’ll be waiting for you in the shower, Y/N.”

No one knew the brewing tension between you too and just assumed Nicholas was his typical joking self, causing everyone to burst into chuckles.

Taylor, standing beside you, nudged you playfully. “Oh, come on. You gotta give me the details,” she whispered, practically bouncing with excitement.

Before you could answer, one of the older women on the team—Barbara, a rich and eccentric lady with a flair for drama—stepped forward, her eyes twinkling. “My pool was just refinished,” she announced grandly, hands raised as if unveiling a masterpiece. “And I’m throwing a little party this weekend to celebrate. You’re all invited!”

The room went silent for a moment before the chatter picked up again, everyone was excited about the prospect of a pool party, but you were still stuck on what Nicholas had said. His voice echoed in your head, making your pulse race.

---

You and Taylor slid into one of the cozy booths at your favorite smoothie place, the smell of fresh fruit and the hum of casual conversations filling the air. Taylor was practically bouncing in her seat, eyes wide with excitement as she shoved her açaí bowl aside and leaned forward, giving you her full attention.

“So, wait,” she said, eyes locked on yours. “You moaned out loud!?” She looked at you in disbelief, almost spitting out her bowl as she struggled to keep it together.

You nodded slowly, fighting back a laugh as she tried to process everything. “Yeah, it was—uh, kind of an accident.”

“No!” she gasped, her voice rising a little too loudly for the cozy shop. “You two almost had sex on the court!”

You quickly shushed her, looking around to make sure no one had overheard. You were already feeling the heat of your embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Shh! Taylor, you’re gonna get us thrown out,” you hissed, barely able to hold back your own laughter.

Taylor put her hand over her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Sorry, sorry,” she whispered dramatically, though she was clearly struggling not to laugh.

“But I don’t know what to do. He’s so confusing, Tay.” Your face was hot as you tried to steady yourself.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “Babe, what’s confusing? He so clearly wants you to ride him like it’s no tomorrow!”

You rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips, “I don’t know, he’s hot but am I really gonna fuck a go I met at club tennis?”, you picked up your smoothie to sip.

There was a pause between you two before unanimously responding,

“Yes”

You both burst into laughter, the patrons of the smoothie shop, including a family with a small child, shot you both looks.

“Okay, okay, here’s what I’m thinking.” Taylor shot up straighter, practically bouncing in her seat now. “After the pool party this weekend, we’ll come back to your apartment, hang out for a while. Then I’ll slip out and leave you two alone. You won’t have any distractions, and you’ll be in your space. So it’s just you, him.”

“You’ve thought about this, huh?” you shot her a slick look, eyes squinted with a smile.

“From the second you two were paired up, yes!” she grabbed uo Nike duffel bag and smoothie, Shooting up from the booth, “Come on, let’s go bikini shopping!” she called out from the shop door.

------

You and Taylor arrived at Barbara’s house, pulling up to the towering gates of a mansion that could only be described as extravagant. As you drove through the gates, you couldn't help but marvel at the meticulously manicured grounds, the sprawling lawn, and the grandiose architecture.

The house itself was a statement of wealth—an impressive Mediterranean-style villa complete with marble pillars, wide open terraces, and windows so large they almost felt like walls of glass. Barbara’s backyard was even more ridiculous, the pool area a luxurious oasis, with a hot tub, waterfall features, and a fully equipped outdoor kitchen. The scent of freshly grilled food wafted in the air, and the sound of music played from outdoor speakers, giving the entire scene a carefree, almost surreal vibe.

You and Taylor were among the first to arrive, but a few other teammates were already there, mingling and laughing by the pool. You couldn’t help but notice the energy—everyone was in high spirits, laughing, talking, and basking in the summer warmth. You and Taylor dropped your things by a lounge chair, and she immediately began making suggestions about your outfit, insisting you needed something to grab Nicholas’s attention.

“Trust me,” Taylor said, eyeing you up and down. “If Nicholas doesn’t jump on you the second he sees this, he’s an idiot.”

She was referring to the white bikini set you were wearing, with cute red cherries printed all over the top and bottom. You had picked it out impulsively, but Taylor’s enthusiasm made you feel even better about the choice. You stripped off your cover-up and walked toward the pool with Taylor at your side, trying to keep the nerves at bay. Music played from the speakers as people were already enjoying the pool, splashing around and lounging under the sun. The air smelled like sunscreen, chlorine, and summer—the perfect atmosphere for a party.

You felt the cool water on your toes as you entered, your body immediately relaxing. The food spread was tempting, and the drinks were flowing, but your attention kept drifting to the entrance. You kept glancing back toward the gate, waiting for him to arrive. Every time someone walked in, your stomach dropped, thinking it was Nicholas. It wasn’t. And the anticipation was starting to feel almost painful.

Then, he finally walked in.

It was as if he stepped through the door in slow motion—his entrance completely owning the room. Nicholas was wearing nothing but a pair of trunks, no shirt, and damn, he looked incredible. His body was... perfect. His abs were defined, his chest was bulky but still ripped, the muscles in his arms were sharp, and even the way his trunks hung just low enough made your heart skip a beat. You wanted to look away, pretend like you weren’t even interested, but it was hard to ignore someone who looked like that.

You quickly turned your attention to the people around you, trying to act like you hadn’t just caught sight of him walking in. You didn’t want to seem eager, even though your stomach was flipping with the idea of what was about to happen.

It wasn’t long before Nicholas made his way toward the pool, walking over to the edge closest to you. He kneeled down, his eyes locking onto you as he flashed that trademark smirk, the one that made your chest tighten.

“So, how’s the water?” he asked, his voice smooth but with an edge of humor, as his eyes roamed and settled on your breasts as they bobbed in the water creating small waves.

You didn’t want to show how much his attention affected you, so you smirked back and shot a casual reply. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” You gestured to the pool with a mischievous look, inviting him to join you.

He took your cue, tossing his towel to the side and stepping into the water, the ripples spreading outward as he made his way toward you. There was no hiding the fact that you both had a simmering tension, but neither of you was willing to be the first to acknowledge it outright. You exchanged jabs and playful comments as you stood in the shallow end, water splashing around your legs.

After a while, Nicholas shifted, making his way deeper into the pool. You hesitated, not really a strong swimmer, and preferred to stay where you could touch the bottom.

“You coming?” he asked, his tone teasing, eyes glinting with that same challenge you were so used to.

“I’m good here,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You go ahead.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to you?” he said with a wink. “I’ll keep you safe.”

There was something in his eyes that made it hard to say no. Reluctantly, you nodded. He extended his hand toward you, and you took it, letting him help you deeper into the water. The further you went, the higher the water got, eventually reaching just below your chin. When it was too deep for you to touch the bottom, he pulled you close, his chest pressing against yours in an embrace that left you breathless.

Before you could react, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him for support, and his arms came around your waist, pulling you in closer. You could feel his abs press against your stomach, his chest tight against yours, and—damn—it was hard to ignore the feeling of his body against yours, especially when you could feel him getting hard against you.

“Whoa,” he chuckled, his voice low and smooth as his hands settled around your waist. “Right here? In front of everyone?.” His tone is laced with the sarcastic tone that turned you on.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t drown, if i don’t want mouth-to-mouth from you”

Nicholas grinned, and the heat in his eyes made you feel like he was already undressing you with his gaze. “Well you rejected me once…,” he said, pulling you in closer, the muscle in his chest pressing against your stomach. His breath was steady, but you could feel his pulse quicken as he looked down at you.

You tried to ignore the way his body felt so firm and close to yours, focusing instead on your usual digs. “And yet, you clearly love a chase” you asked, tilting your head with a smirk.”

His lips quirked up into a smile, his eyes catching yours. “It’s not so much a chase at this point,” His grip tightened around your waist, and you could feel the subtle pressure of his muscles beneath the water. “The way your legs are wrapped around me right now…I thought I’d have to work a lot harder for that.”

You paused as your heart skipped a beat. You shot him a playful glare, “I actually don’t have a comeback for that,” your tone feigned a playful retreat. “But I wanna grab some of the fruit salad so can you carry me back to the edge stud?”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to suppress a laugh. “Well you’re losing with such grace, it’s the least I could do,” he said, his tone just slick enough to make your cheeks warm.

With an almost effortless motion, he floated you back toward the shallow end of the pool, the cool water rippling around you both. As soon as your feet touched the floor, you shifted to stand, but not before leaning in closer for one last jab.

You tilted your head toward him, lowering your voice just enough for only him to hear. “Oh, and by the way,” you said, smirking as you pushed a curl out of your face, “I wouldn’t say you’ve ‘won.’ The second I wrapped my legs around you, you were hard enough to poke a hole in my side.”

His breath hitched, his smirk faltering just slightly as his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could even process what you’d said, you winked and turned, pulling yourself up out of the water.

The air hit your skin, and as you stepped out, the droplets of water cascading down your body caught the sun, making your skin look like it was glowing. Your plush thighs flexed slightly with each step, your full hips swaying effortlessly as the cherry-printed bikini clung perfectly to every curve. Your stomach, soft and inviting, peeked out between the swimsuit pieces, the water droplets trailing down like a path Nicholas couldn’t help but follow with his eyes.

He swallowed hard, his blush deepening as his gaze lingered, clearly torn between being turned on and completely dumbfounded by your boldness.

You grabbed your towel, wrapping it loosely around your waist as you glanced back at him, your lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Have fun cooling off, Nick,” you said over your shoulder, your voice light and teasing as you walked toward the fruit table.

Nicholas stood there for a moment, chest still heaving slightly as he watched you disappear into the crowd. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a faint, incredulous smile.

----

The backyard was buzzing with conversation and laughter as everyone ate, spread out across the lawn. The sun had slipped behind a layer of clouds, casting a muted gray light over Barbara’s extravagant outdoor setup. The clouds grew heavier, and though rain wasn’t in the forecast, everyone kept a wary eye on the sky.

You and Taylor sat together near the edge of the patio, chatting while finishing your burgers. Taylor leaned in, her tone playful. “So,” she started, waggling her eyebrows, “Are we gonna talk about you and Nicholas basically dry-humping in the pool earlier?”

You choked on your laugh, covering your mouth as you shook your head. “Taylor!” you said through a fit of giggles. “We were not!”

Taylor smirked, shrugging as she took another bite of her food. “Could’ve fooled me. You were all wrapped up around him like a koala.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, fine. But I think it’s going well. He’s definitely into me,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Taylor grinned, pleased. “Good! Finally!” she said, clinking her drink against yours. She started to ask what time you thought you should leave, but before she could finish, the sky opened up, and fat raindrops began to fall.

The peaceful scene turned into chaos as everyone scrambled to grab their things and get inside. Barbara, ever the eccentric host, ushered everyone toward the house, waving her hands dramatically as she shouted instructions. By the time you made it inside, you were damp from the sudden downpour, but at least you’d saved your plate.

Inside, everyone piled into the living room, which was decorated with retro, ’70s-inspired furniture. The centerpiece was a sunken conversation pit, complete with vibrant orange cushions and a massive coffee table in the middle.

Barbara clapped her hands together, her jewelry jangling with the movement. “Well, that was unexpected! I’m absolutely exhausted from hosting, so I’m heading upstairs,” she announced, sweeping a hand toward the stairs. “Feel free to hang out or head out whenever. Make yourselves at home!”

She disappeared in a flurry of gold bangles and silk, leaving the rest of you to settle in. The team naturally split into smaller groups, conversations bubbling up in various corners of the room. Nicholas wandered over and plopped down next to you and Taylor on the oversized cushions.

It didn’t take long before the two of you were completely in sync, your bodies naturally gravitating toward each other. At one point, your legs were thrown casually over his lap, his hand resting on your calf as you both laughed about something Taylor had said. Later, he laid down with his head in your lap, and without thinking, you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. When he sat back up, you leaned against his shoulder, his arm brushing against yours, the closeness sparking something you couldn’t ignore.

At some point, Barbara’s husband asked Nicholas to help bring in some of the grilling supplies left outside. He reluctantly got up, leaving you and Taylor alone.

Taylor didn’t waste a second, leaning in with a grin so wide it practically split her face. “This is happening! I knew it!” she whispered excitedly.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress your smile. “Okay, fine, it’s happening. But don’t make it weird.”

Taylor waved you off. “When he gets back, we should all head out—leave you two alone to keep this momentum going.”

You were about to agree when your phone buzzed. It was a text from Nicholas.

Nicholas:

Hey, I think someone left their purse outside. Is it yours?

You frowned, intrigued, but got up to check it out. You told Taylor you’d be right back and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen, which led to the back patio.

But just as you passed the guest bathroom, a hand reached out and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you inside.

Before you could even react, the door clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself pressed against it, your back meeting the cool wood. Nicholas was standing inches away, his chest brushing against yours with each shallow breath. His eyes bore into yours, warm and intense, and you could feel the heat radiating off him in the confined space.

Your voice low and teasing, “That was a pretty smart text. Almost convincing.”

His lips curved into that familiar smirk, and he leaned in just enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice rough and dripping with confidence. “I do like the chase.”

Before you could respond, his hands slid to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The weight of his body pressed into yours, and you felt his grip tighten as your shoulder blades pressed into the door.

Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. For a moment, you just stared into his eyes, the air between you charged with anticipation.

“Well?” you said, your voice sly and challenging. “You gonna keep me waiting, or…?”

That was all it took. Nicholas closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and hypnotic, his mouth soft and deliberate as he explored yours. It was the kind of kiss that made the world around you disappear, leaving only the two of you in the haze of each other’s touch.

His hands slid from your hips to cup your face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he finally broke away to trail his lips down your jawline to your neck, your breath hitched. He seemed to know exactly where to go, instinctively finding the spots that made your pulse race, kissing and biting gently at your skin.

Your hands tightened on his shoulders, your body arching into him as he pressed his lips to the sensitive curve of your neck. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands slid up the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as if spurring him on, pulling him closer. Nicholas groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as the kiss deepened, each movement deliberate and consuming. He kissed you like he didn’t want to let go, his lips moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless.

His fingers brushed the strings of your bikini top, his touch lingering as if asking for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he gently tugged, the fabric slipping from your shoulders and falling effortlessly between you. He broke the kiss, his hands still resting at your waist, and leaned back just slightly to look at you.

The way his eyes widened, drinking in the sight of you, made your heart race. It wasn’t just lust—it was awe, the kind that made you feel worshiped under his gaze. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. “I knew your body was insane, but…”

You didn’t even have time to laugh or respond because he leaned forward, taking your hard nipple into his mouth. His lips latched on, a low moan escaping as he suckled softly. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, sending shivers down your spine, and your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, fingers tangling as you held him close.

Nicholas alternated between gentle licks and firmer sucks, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His free hand trailed over your other breast, his thumb brushing across your other nipple with deliberate slowness, amplifying the heat building in your core.

You let out a soft whimper, your back arching as his mouth worked you over. The sound seemed to spur him on, and his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer as if he wanted to devour every inch of you.

When he finally released your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes locked onto yours. They were dark with desire, a slight smirk playing on his lips as if he was proud of the effect he had on you.

You didn’t let him have the upper hand for long. Sliding your hands to his jaw, you pulled him up, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was equal parts fiery and tender. As your mouths moved together, you guided him toward the counter, taking control of the moment.

With his back pressed against the edge of the countertop, you broke the kiss, your lips brushing his ear, he took a sharp inhale that had a hiss to it. “You want me to take care of you baby?” You whispered, your tone playful but laced with promise.

Nicholas let out a soft laugh, he tried to play it cool but he was too weak to actually speak. Completely wowed by your dominance, his breath catching as you kissed lower, leaving a trail of heat in your wake.

Your confidence grew with each reaction you pulled from him, his head tilting back as your mouth explored him. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles white as you kissed down his torso, feeling the taut muscles beneath your lips.

When you dropped to your knees in front of him, his breath hitched, and his gaze snapped down to meet yours. The anticipation in his eyes was undeniable, his lips parted as he watched your every move with a hunger that sent a thrill through you.

Your fingers toyed with the hem of his trunks, your lips pressing soft, teasing kisses along his hips before you slowly tugged the fabric down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, his arousal impossible to ignore. The sight of him made your pulse race, but you kept your composure, wrapping your hand around him and planting soft, deliberate kisses on his tip.

Each kiss sent a shiver through him, his body tensing under your touch. His breathing grew heavier, and you could feel his restraint slipping with every press of your lips. When you finally took him into your mouth, his head fell back instantly, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips.

His chocolate-brown hair, still slick from the pool and rain, framed his face as he clenched his jaw, struggling to hold himself together. Your movements were deliberate, your head bobbing with a rhythm that drove him wild. Each time your tongue swirled over him, his moans grew louder, his resolve to stay quiet crumbling.

“Y/N,” he groaned, your name tumbling from his lips before he quickly covered his mouth with one hand, muffling the sound. The sight of him trying so hard to keep control only spurred you on.

When the pressure became too much, his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you with slow, calculated thrusts. His hips bucked gently into you, each movement precise as he tried not to lose himself completely.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathy.

You glanced up at him, your eager eyes meeting his dazed, pleasure-filled ones. The vulnerability in his gaze made you feel powerful, and when he saw the look on your face, his lips curled into a weak smile.

“Just like that, baby,” he cooed, his voice breaking slightly as he tightened his grip on your hair. “Keep that pretty mouth open for me.”

Just then, he pushed himself to the black of your throat, keeping your head there until you gagged a little, pushing off of him. He leaned down to kiss you, gently slapping your face, “good girl”.

Nicholas helped you to your feet, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, hungry kiss before he turned you around. You caught your reflection in the mirror, his eyes devouring you, and felt a rush as he slowly slid down your bikini bottoms.

He dropped to his knees, hands gripping your ass as he began to lap at you from behind. The sensation made your knees tremble, and when his tongue flicked over your sensitive nerves, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you. Your back arched instinctively, and you moved your hips, grinding against his face as he held you steady, his grip firm on your hips.

His lips wrapped around you, sucking gently, and you gasped his name, desperate for more. "Please, Nick, fuck me— I want you so bad," you begged, your voice ragged with need. He didn’t hesitate, his tongue more insistent, more eager.

A finger slipped inside, but as the pressure built, you felt yourself on the edge. "Nick, I’m gonna cum... please!" you cried out.

In one swift motion, he rose, positioning himself behind you. As he slid inside, a sharp breath left his lips, the tightness and warmth surrounding him almost too much. He slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room as he began thrusting slowly, deliberately, making sure you felt every inch of him.

"You’re so fucking tight," he murmured, the words sending a shiver through your spine.

"Fuck, you’re so wet," he groaned, his pace picking up, his hands now gripping you tighter.

"You feel so good, baby," Nicholas continued, his praises falling from his lips, each one spurring you on.

Every time you dipped your head in pleasure, he tugged at your hair, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. "Look at yourself, baby girl. Look how good you look taking me."

The sound of your bodies meeting filled the bathroom, and you couldn’t help but wonder how no one heard you. But it didn’t matter— it only fueled the fire inside you. With each thrust, you arched deeper, matching his pace, your body consumed by the pleasure.

You found yourself in control of the situation as you thew yourself into Nicholas, he thre his hands up surrendering to your will. He moaned out while you braced yourself on the counter to continue your pace.

You gripped the edge of the counter, using it for leverage as you set the pace. Your back arched even more, alternating between consistent movements and then pulling back, just to take him all the way in. You pushed your hips back, forcing him deeper inside, making him groan in response.

“Fuck, baby... you’re so fucking nasty, I love it,” Nicholas breathed, his arms wrapping around your torso as his pace picked up.

His hands slid from your waist to your hips, his grip tightening. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked you back against him, taking control, and in one smooth motion, he began to set the pace himself.

You gasped, unable to stop the way your body reacted, completely at his mercy. His thrusts were hard and fast, each one driving you forward, your hands struggling to stay steady on the counter as the force of his movements pushed you closer to the edge.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “You like me taking control.”

You couldn’t help but moan in response, your body giving in to his every move. “Yes, Nick... fuck, yes,” you panted.

His pace grew frantic as he increased the pressure, his hands gripping your hips to steady you as he fucked you harder. His breathing became more ragged, his movements more desperate as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, baby... I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice strained, and you could feel the tension building in his body.

With one final, deep thrust, Nicholas pushed you over the edge. He came inside you with a low, guttural moan, his body tensing as he emptied himself. You followed close behind, your body trembling in ecstasy as you felt him finish, both of you catching your breath in the aftermath.

He stayed inside you for a moment, his hands still gripping your hips as he tried to steady himself. Slowly, he pulled out, his lips brushing the back of your neck in a tender kiss as he whispered, talked you down.

#lavender baby #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x female reader #nicholas chavez x black reader #nicholas chavez x plus sized reader

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bestalbertcamuslover · 2 days ago

Text

Bad at Remembering Dates

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Jenson Button x Wife!Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

The computer cast a faint light over her face as she kept working, even though it was past midnight. She had a major project going on at work, and since some unexpected complications had arisen, she had to sacrifice some of her sleep to meet the deadline.

“Love, you’re still awake?” Jenson murmured, sleepy, as he approached the living room. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the concern in his eyes. “You said you’d be in bed an hour ago,” he reminded her softly. “I told you I’d give you some time, but here we are.”

She sighed, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. “I know, I know. I just got caught up again. This is crunch time.”

He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. “Love, I get it. I know this project’s important, and I know you’re doing everything you can to make it perfect. But you promised you’d rest, and it’s past midnight.” His voice held no anger, just gentle insistence.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, though the bags under her eyes and the sluggishness in her movements betrayed her words.

Jenson crouched beside her chair, his eyes level with hers now. He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. “You’re not fine. You’re running on fumes, and I don’t want you burning yourself out over this.” His thumb brushed lightly across her skin. “Please, just come to bed. The project will still be here in the morning.”

“Just thirty more minutes?” she tried, offering him a small, hopeful smile.

He shook his head with a soft laugh. “Not this time. Come on.” Standing up, he extended a hand to her, his expression expectant but kind. “I’ll make you tea in the morning if that helps seal the deal.”

Her lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “Fine, you win,” she said, sliding her hand into his. As he pulled her up, she felt a warmth in her chest—a sense that he always had her back, even when she pushed herself too hard.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward their bedroom. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmured as they walked. “But even superheroes need sleep.”

She laughed softly, leaning into his side. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Always,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She was deeply caught up in this project; she had even started counting time based on how many days remained until the deadline. Of course, that wasn’t the best way to keep track—especially since she was terrible at remembering dates.

It was January 19th, but for her, it was thirteen days until the project deadline. She had woken up very early to get some things ready before work. She left while Jenson was still sleeping. Lucky him, she thought.

Another hectic day at work went by—endless typing, too many meetings and discussions—but she definitely loved her job. She worked extra hours, as most of her coworkers did, with the deadline looming and the office buzzing with activity. The drive back home was routine: some traffic—not just on the roads, but in her mind as well—as she kept searching for solutions to the problems that had arisen as the project progressed.

The front door clicked softly as she pushed it open, stepping inside with a quiet sigh. She was finally home. The house smelled faintly of fresh coffee, though the mug she’d left on the kitchen counter earlier was long gone. Jenson was sitting on the couch in the living room, a comfortable and familiar sight—one of the few things that had remained steady in her frantic days.

He looked up as the door closed behind her, his eyes lighting up with a warm smile despite his obvious fatigue.

“Hey, love. Long day?” Jenson’s voice had a playful edge, as if he was amused by the way she had been running on fumes lately.

“Can’t even describe it,” she murmured, leaning against the door for a moment as she closed her eyes, savoring the calm of being home. “Another twelve-hour grind. But I’m almost there,” she added with a tired smile, still carrying the weight of her project. “Thirteen days until the deadline, so… I guess I’m just counting down the hours now.”

Jenson chuckled lightly, his gaze softening as he watched her. “I know you’re all in on this project, but you promised you’d come to bed early tonight, remember?”

She nodded, her eyes darting briefly to the clock on the wall. “I know, I know,” she sighed. “But there’s so much to do. I—”

“Shh,” he said, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “Come here. Just for a minute. Relax.”

She reluctantly took off her shoes and walked over, slumping down beside him. As she sank into the couch, he casually leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You deserve a break,” he said softly, yet there was mischief in his voice for a reason she had not realized yet.

The exhaustion weighed down on her, but she felt a comfort as she leaned on him. The hum of the TV in the background was oddly soothing, even though she could hardly focus on it. She just wanted to close her eyes for a moment and let everything go.

After a few minutes, Jenson stretched and pulled out his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and without a word, he set it down on the coffee table.

“Your phone buzzing again?” she murmured.

“Yeah, I got a message from the guys about dinner tomorrow,” he lied, grinning slightly, since it was another “happy birthday” message.

She nodded absentmindedly, but as she reached for her phone to check a work email, a message from the restaurant popped up on her screen.

“Reminder: Your reservation for dinner is tonight, January 19th, at 8:00 PM. We’re looking forward to hosting you!”

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the message, her mind slowly connecting the dots. She froze for a moment, the realization hitting her like a wave. January 19th... Jenson’s birthday.

She turned to look at him, panic starting to bubble up. “Wait. Jenson... is it really?” Her voice trailed off as the realization sank in. The reservation! The dinner!

Jenson grinned, clearly aware of what was happening. “You just remembered, didn’t you?”

Her eyes widened, mortified. “I—I’m the worst! I didn’t even wish you a happy birthday this morning. And here I am, all caught up in my project, completely forgetting about—”

He interrupted her with a soft laugh, his hand finding hers and squeezing gently. “It’s okay. I knew it was coming,” he teased. “You’ve been counting down the days until that project’s deadline, so I figured my birthday didn’t stand a chance in your mind.”

“But I had that reservation! I made it months ago, and I forgot!” she exclaimed, feeling the guilt rise. “How could I forget? I must be the worst wife ever.”

Jenson leaned in, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, his expression affectionate. “Love, I’m not upset. You’ve been buried in work, and I know how important this project is to you. But you did remember—right at the perfect time.”

She gave him a sheepish smile, still feeling the weight of the forgotten date. “You’re too understanding. Seriously, I feel terrible.”

“It’s fine, love,” he said, sitting up and glancing at the clock. “It’s still my birthday. And we can still make it to that dinner.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” he said, giving her an affectionate nudge. “Go change, and we’ll make it.”

Her guilt eased as she stood, grateful for his patience. “Okay, okay. I’ll make it up to you tonight, I promise.”

Jenson grinned. “I’m sure you will. Now hurry up before we’re late.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

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lvrgurlblobbu · 16 hours ago

Text

Home Is Where The Heart Is

zayne x fem!reader

⤷ cw: domestic!zayne, girl dad zayne x fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, use of "you", teeth rotting fluff ^^

⤷ word count: 3.7k

⤷a/n: hello, this is my first time uploading a fic here on tumblr and i'm still in the process of figuring things out, this is also my first zayne fic & i'm looking forward for writing more! hope you enjoy reading : )

ao3

The rays of the morning sun made its way through the bedroom window, Zayne slowly stirred from his sleep. As his eyes fluttered open, he blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light. His gaze drifted across the room, landing on the peaceful scene before him. There, nestled between him and his daughter, was the sight he had grown accustomed to: you, resting comfortably between them.

You lay on your side, back gently pressed against his chest, his arm draped lovingly across your waist. Your five-year-old daughter, Hyacinth, with her small, messy curls, was nestled beside you, her tiny body curled up against yours in the most perfect display of familial love. Her soft breathing was steady, matching the rhythm of yours, and a serene smile rested on her face.

Zayne’s heart swelled with affection at the sight, a quiet, tender moment that filled him with a warmth deeper than words could express. He gently moved, careful not to disturb you and Hyacinth, and leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear. He whispered, his voice hushed with awe and adoration, "This... this is everything."

You stirred slightly, feeling the faintest brush of his breath against my skin. You didn't need to open your eyes, since you know exactly who it was. His presence, so familiar, brought an overwhelming sense of comfort. Instead, you smiled, feeling his lips pressed against your cheek. Your daughter shifted a little, instinctively wrapping her tiny arm around you, as though trying to hold on to the peace of the moment.

Zayne smiled softly, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your waist, as he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Good morning my love.” He whispered as he leaned closer to kiss your cheek. “Good morning.” You mumbled as you smiled at him, then after a while Hyacinth lifted her head, her eyes still half-closed and slowly blinking to adjust to the morning light. Zayne chuckled softly, his heart melting at the sight of your little girl slowly waking up. Hyacinth yawned, her tiny hand rubbing her eyes as she shifted beside you. Her sleepy gaze wandered between you and Zayne, still not fully awake, her lips curling into a drowsy smile when she saw you both.

"Morning, Daddy," she murmured, her voice hushed but full of warmth. She reached her small hand toward him, her fingers lightly brushing against his chest as she nestled closer to you. Zayne grinned, his heart swelling even more as he lifted Hyacinth and placed her on his chest. "Good morning, sweet girl," he whispered, his voice soft and affectionate.

You couldn’t help but smile at the pure, tender moment unfolding before you. It felt like time had slowed, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the three of you—together, in your little cocoon of love. You shifted to face the both of them, head resting on Zayne as you gently brushed Hyacinth’s hair, her face buried in the crook of Zayne’s neck as she snuggled closer to him. You enjoyed a few minutes of silence, contented as you nestled against Zayne, then that silence was interrupted by a grumble of stomach. You and Zayne glanced at each other, holding back laughter then Hyacinth lifted her head, “I’m hungry…” she said shyly as she buried her head on Zayne’s chest and she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

Zayne chuckled, “Alright sweetheart, what do you want for breakfast?” he asked softly as he brushed Hyacinth’s hair. She looked up to him and whispered “pancakes” followed by a small giggle, Zayne smiled, his heart swelling at the sight of his little girl’s happiness. “Pancakes, huh?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from Hyacinth’s face. "Alright, you’ve got it. Pancakes it is." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head before shifting his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with love. I sat up and I carried Hyacinth, “Let’s change our clothes first okay? Then you can help daddy make your pancakes. Is that alright with you sweetheart?” You asked, Hyacinth nodded eagerly. It made you smile before getting out of bed, Zayne folded your blanket and fixed the pillows, making sure that the bed is tidy and fixed before making his way towards you.

His hand found your waist and he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, “I’ll wait for the two of you at the kitchen okay?” you hummed as a response and Zayne slightly pinched Hyacinth’s cheeks before leaving your bedroom. The door closed behind him, leaving you and Hyacinth alone in the soft, quiet morning light.

“Mama,” she murmured softly, “will Daddy make the pancakes super fluffy today?” You smiled, your heart swelling at her innocent question. “I’m sure he will, sweetheart,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “He always does and you can help him make pancakes.” you kissed her cheek which made her giggle, then you headed towards the cabinet to grab a new set of clothes before leaving the bedroom.

***

Hyacinth’s little footsteps echoed throughout the house as she ran towards the kitchen where she saw Zayne mixing the pancake mix. You approached behind her, when Zayne saw the both of you, he immediately grabbed two cups of hot cocoa and placed it on the kitchen counter, then he lifted Hyacinth to place her at the stool. “Here’s a hot cocoa for you, my love.” He said as he gave you your mug. “Thank you.” you said as he kissed your cheek, then Hyacinth spoke “Daddy, can I help you make them? And can you make them extra fluffy?” She pleaded and it made you and Zayne chuckle, “Of course sweetheart, you just need to hold this and I’ll help you mix the pancake batter okay?” Zayne said as he gave the whisk to Hyacinth, he guided her as she mixed the batter slowly.

You sat on the stool beside Hyacinth as you watched the both of them, giggles and laughter echoed throughout the kitchen as Hyacinth helped Zayne prepare the pancakes. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick snapshot of the moment, capturing the pure joy radiating from their faces. Zayne, with his apron tied around his waist, was smiling down at Hyacinth, who was standing on her little stool, carefully pouring batter onto the griddle with a look of intense focus. Her small hands were a little messy, but the joy in her expression was unmistakable.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, your heart full as you watched the two of them. It was moments like this that made everything feel perfect—seeing your family so happy, so full of love and life. The sound of their laughter filled the room, and you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for these simple, beautiful mornings together.

As you set the phone down, Hyacinth caught your eye, waving her tiny hand at you. “Mama, come see! I made the pancake shape like a heart!” she exclaimed proudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. You stood up and moved to her side, bending down to get a better look. The pancake, though a little lopsided, was indeed shaped like a heart, and your heart melted at the sight of her effort. “It’s perfect, sweetheart,” you said, your voice full of love.

Zayne wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, you smiled up at him, resting your head against his shoulder. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, watching as the warmth of love and laughter filled the kitchen, making it feel like home.

***

After a few minutes of preparation, the pancakes are now cooked and are placed at the dining table. Hyacinth sat in her chair as you placed a few pieces of pancakes on her plate. “Daddy, can I have more syrup please?” she asked and without missing a beat, Zayne smiled and immediately got up from his seat, reaching for the syrup bottle. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said, pouring the syrup generously over her pancakes, making sure she got just the right amount.

Hyacinth’s face lit up, her grin widening as she watched the syrup drizzle down onto her pancakes. “Yay! Thank you Daddy!” She lifted her fork and began eating, “Slow down sweetheart, you don’t want to choke on your food.” You reminded, she looked up to you with her mouth full of pancakes “Sorry mama..” she mumbled in between bites, her face flushing slightly with embarrassment. “It’s okay, just remember to chew and take your time,” you said gently, reaching over to adjust her napkin as a piece of pancake fell onto her lap.

Then you noticed the generous amount of syrup drizzled on her pancakes and immediately glanced at Zayne, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Zayne looked at you innocently, his lips curling into a playful grin. "What?" he said with mock innocence. "She asked for extra syrup, and I aim to please." You shook your head, trying not to laugh. "That’s way more than extra syrup, Zayne," you replied, eyeing the puddle of syrup on Hyacinth’s plate.

Hyacinth, looking up at both of you with wide, innocent eyes, chimed in, “I like it sweet, mama!” you chuckled as you shook my head, “I know sweetheart but that syrup is excessive. I know you like sweets like your daddy but we don’t want you to have a toothache, remember?” You said as you sat on your chair, Zayne, overhearing, rose from his seat with a smile and moved to the kitchen counter. “We can always make sure to have some extra brushing time later, huh?” he said with a wink as he carefully placed a couple of pancakes onto your plate. You gave him a playful look as he set the plate down in front of you. “I think I might need more than just extra brushing for this,” you teased, eyeing the stack of pancakes.

Once finished with breakfast, Zayne helped you clean up the dishes, his movements easy and familiar. You rinsed off the plates while he stacked them in the sink, both of you working together in a comfortable rhythm. Hyacinth, still full from her generous serving of pancakes, sat at the table, drawing on a piece of paper with her crayons, humming softly to herself.

“Mama, Daddy? Can I ask a question?” she said, you and Zayne glanced at one another before drying up your hands and approached Hyacinth. “What is it sweetheart?” you asked as you sat at the chair beside her while Zayne sat in front of you.

Hyacinth placed her crayons down as she looked at the both of you, “How are babies made?” she asked with such innocence her voice full of genuine wonder. You and Zayne froze for a moment, exchanging a quick, surprised glance. The question was unexpected, but you could see that she was truly just curious, her head tilted to the side in that way she did when she was trying to make sense of the world around her.

Zayne cleared his throat softly, giving you a small, amused yet slightly nervous smile. “Well, sweetheart,” he began slowly, glancing over at you for guidance, “that’s a big question. Babies come from a mommy and a daddy, and they grow in the mommy’s tummy.”

Hyacinth, clearly still processing, paused for a moment, placing both of her elbows on the table and resting her head in her hands. She looked up at the both of you with wide, curious eyes. “But... how?” she asked, her voice filled with innocent confusion, her little brow furrowed as she waited for an answer. You exchanged a glance with Zayne, both of you trying to figure out how to explain something so complicated in a way that would make sense to her.

Zayne looked at you, clearly asking for help. You mouthed “answer her question, doctor.” Then, Hyacinth asked again. “You say babies grow from mama’s tummy. Why? And how did they grow in mama’s tummy?” Her voice filled with much curiosity, Zayne chuckled nervously, but then turned back to Hyacinth, realizing he had no choice but to keep going. Hyacinth’s brows furrowed harder, her small hands now gripping the edge of the table as she leaned forward.

“Well,” Zayne started slowly, glancing at you for reassurance, “when a mommy and daddy decide they want to have a baby, something very special happens. A tiny little seed from the daddy meets a tiny little egg from the mommy, and that’s how a baby starts.”

“Huh?” she said confusingly, followed by another question “What seed and what egg?” You tried not to laugh at her confusion, knowing that this was turning into a more complicated conversation than you expected. Zayne looked at you, clearly trying to figure out how to explain in the simplest way possible.

“Well, sweetheart,” Zayne began carefully, “the seed is something very tiny that a daddy has, and the egg is something very tiny that a mommy has. When they come together, they create the baby.” She thought about this for a second before looking up at both of you again, her curiosity growing.

Hyacinth looked at both of you, her brow furrowing even deeper. “But where do the seed and egg come from?” she asked, her voice full of genuine curiosity, as if she wasn't satisfied yet.

You and Zayne exchanged a quick look. This wasn’t going to be a simple explanation, but you could see that she was really interested, and you didn’t want to leave her with more questions than answers.

“Well,” you said gently, “the seed comes from inside the daddy’s body, and the egg comes from inside the mommy’s body.” Hyacinth’s eyes grew wide, her face full of confusion but also a spark of intense curiosity. “But… how? How do they get there?” she pressed, not letting go of the question.

Zayne shifted in his seat, leaning toward her with a soft chuckle. “Well, sweetheart, it's a little complicated, but basically, the daddy’s seed goes inside the mommy’s tummy where it finds the egg, and that’s when the baby can start to grow.”

“But how does daddy’s seed get inside?” she asked, her tone serious and expectant, as though she was prepared for an even deeper explanation. You blinked, realizing that she wasn’t going to drop it anytime soon. She was really trying to understand. You took a breath, trying to keep things simple but honest. “Well, when a mommy and daddy are ready for a baby, they come together in a special way, and that’s how the seed and egg meet.”

Hyacinth’s brow furrowed even more, as if this explanation still didn’t quite make sense. “But... where did the seed and egg come from before? How do they get in there?” she asked again, her voice filled with earnest curiosity, clearly wanting to know more.

You and Zayne exchanged another glance, knowing this was the moment when her questions were diving deeper than you’d expected. You couldn’t help but admire her persistence, though. She wasn’t going to let go of this mystery until she understood it completely.

Zayne took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly as he tried to simplify it even more. “Okay, sweetie, so… the seed and the egg are part of our bodies from the very beginning. The daddy has seeds inside his body, and the mommy has eggs inside hers. But they’re too tiny to see, like little bits of dust.”

You nodded, adding, “When a mommy and daddy decide they want a baby, the daddy gives the mommy one of his seeds, and it goes inside her body to meet the egg. The seed and egg are so small, you can’t see them with your eyes. They meet in the mommy’s tummy, and that’s when the baby starts to grow.”

Hyacinth’s face remained thoughtful, still trying to wrap her mind around it all. “But how do the seeds and eggs know where to go? Do they walk?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

You chuckled softly at her creative thinking. “Not exactly,” you said, smiling. “They don’t walk, but the seed knows where to go because it has to find the egg. The mommy’s body helps guide the seed to the egg, so they can meet and start the baby’s growth.”

Zayne smiled, seeing how hard she was concentrating. “It’s like a tiny race, and the seed has to get to the egg before anything else can happen.” Hyacinth giggled at the idea of a race but seemed satisfied for a moment. Then, her expression shifted again, and she asked, “So, does the egg just wait for the seed to come? Does it know the seed is coming?”

You and Zayne both stopped, realizing she was thinking deeply about how all of this worked. “Well, the egg doesn’t exactly wait on its own. It’s part of the mommy’s body, so it’s always there, ready when the time comes for the seed to meet it,” you explained gently. “It’s like when you’re getting ready for a playdate—you’re waiting, but you don’t know exactly when the other person will arrive. But when they do, you’re ready to start playing.”

Her eyes brightened as if that made more sense. “So, the egg and seed wait for each other, and when they meet, that’s when the baby starts?”

“Yes, that’s right, sweetheart,” Zayne confirmed, relieved that she was getting it. “The baby starts growing right after the seed and egg meet, and then it keeps growing bigger and bigger until it's ready to be born.” She thought about it for a moment before nodding seriously. “Okay, I think I get it now. The seed and egg make the baby, and they don’t walk, but they find each other.”

“Exactly,” you said, feeling a bit of relief. “You’re really good at understanding all this, sweetie.”

Hyacinth smiled, pleased with herself for figuring it out, then went back to her crayons. “Can I have one?” she asked, you and Zayne glanced at one another. “What do you want to have?” Zayne asked, Hyacinth looked at Zayne with a huge smile on her face, “A baby!”

You chuckled at her, “If you decided to have one then you may honey, but having a baby comes with great responsibilities. You may have one, once you grow older. Just like your daddy and I.” You said as you brushed her hair, but Hyacinth frowned, frustrated that you didn’t get what she was saying.

“No mama, what I want is that you and daddy to have another baby.” Zayne blinked, his expression a mixture of surprise and amusement. You paused for a moment, realizing what she meant. Hyacinth wasn’t asking for a baby of her own, but rather wishing for a sibling, one more to join the family.

You and Zayne exchanged a soft, knowing glance. You smiled warmly at her, understanding her innocent wish. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s very sweet of you,” you said softly, running a hand through her hair. “But right now, we’re very happy with our little family just the way it is. Daddy and I are taking care of you, and we’re very lucky to have you as our daughter.”

“But I want a baby brother or sister! So I can share my crayons and toys with them.” She said as she continued to draw on her paper, “and oh! The four of us could also cuddle all the time.” She giggled.

You smiled at Hyacinth, your heart warming at her innocent wish. As you glanced at her drawing, you saw that it was a family picture, with you, Zayne, her, and the little baby sibling she hoped for. The drawing was filled with love and joy, with each of you drawn in bright, colorful shapes and her little sibling represented by a tiny figure in the corner.

For a moment, you just stared at her, your gaze softening as you took in the picture she created—her version of the perfect family. You couldn’t help but smile at how pure and full of love her little heart was. But as you were lost in thought, you felt Zayne's gaze on you.

When you looked over at him, you found his eyes fixed on you, a gentle smile on his lips. There was something in his gaze, a mixture of affection and gratitude, that made your heart skip a beat. He wasn’t just looking at you with love for the mother of his child, but also with the same warmth and tenderness he always had.

“Maybe someday, sweetheart…” Zayne whispered to you, his voice gentle and filled with warmth. You smiled at him, the corners of your lips curving upward as you met his gaze.

"Yeah, maybe someday," you echoed, the words soft but filled with the unspoken understanding between you.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to slow down. You both watched Hyacinth, so absorbed in her drawing, her innocent wish for a sibling hanging in the air. There was a quiet peace between you and Zayne, a shared feeling that, no matter what the future held, you were content with the love you had right here, right now.

Zayne leaned in just slightly, his hand finding yours and giving it a soft squeeze. "Whatever happens," he said quietly, "I'm glad it's with you." You looked into his eyes, finding that familiar warmth and affection that had always been there. "Me too," you whispered, your heart full. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."

The two of you shared a quiet, understanding smile before turning your attention back to Hyacinth, who was now proudly showing off her drawing—her family picture, complete with the little sibling she hoped for. Her voice bubbled up with excitement as she pointed to the baby in the drawing, her face glowing with joy. "Look, mama! Look, daddy! This is us!"

You both smiled at her, your hearts full, knowing that whatever the future brought, your little family was already perfect just as it was. And maybe, just maybe, someday, her dream of a baby brother or sister would come true. But for now, you were content, surrounded by love and happiness in this moment.

And little did you know that Hyacinth’s wish was already being quietly fulfilled, though none of you knew it yet. The seed of a new beginning had already been planted—hidden, just beneath the surface—waiting to reveal itself when the time was right. Life was unfolding in ways you couldn’t yet see, but soon enough, the love you shared as a family would grow even more.

divider by : @enchanthings

#zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deep space #fluff #zayne fluff #l&ds zayne #li shen #dr zayne #lads zayne #love and deepspace zayne #lnds zayne #dividers by enchanthings

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joaosnovia · 3 days ago

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❦ - moonlight

summary:: it’s midnight in barcelona after the barcelona copa del rey celebrations after party and you and your lover are on the balcony, enjoying life.

warnings:: none

writers note :: so i’m gonna start a series of blurbs based off songs so lmk if u want any players based on any songs. also in my original version hector was smoking a cigarette but i realised its a bit much so i removed it 😔😔.

tags: @barcapix ; lmk if u wanna be added

The moonlight turns everything silver, but it’s the way Hector looks at you that makes the night feel magical. The two of you sit on the balcony, a half empty wine bottle between you. Below, the city hums quietly, but up here, it’s just the two of you.

Hector leans back in his chair. His shirt is undone at the collar, sleeves rolled up, the sharpness of his usual demeanor softened by the glow of the night. He glances at you, smirking. ‘You’ve been staring at me for a while now.’

You scoff, raising your glass. ‘Maybe you’re just nice to look at.’

He laughs, the sound low and warm. ‘Careful, cariño. Keep saying things like that, and I might get used to it.’

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. Nights like this; quiet, intimate, unhurried, feel like a dream. ‘This doesn’t feel real sometimes,’ you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

‘What doesn’t?’ he asks, looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

‘This.’ You gesture vaguely to the balcony, the moonlight, the way he’s looking at you. ‘Us. It’s too perfect.’

Hector leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.’

You laugh softly, your cheeks warming. Before you can respond, he stands and holds out a hand to you. ‘Come here.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Dancing’ he says, his lips curving into a grin. ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared.’

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. There’s no music, just the faint hum of the city, but he doesn’t seem to care. His arm slips around your waist as he starts to sway, guiding you effortlessly.

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you say, resting your hands on his shoulders.

‘Maybe,’ he replies, pulling you closer. ‘But I’m yours.’

The world feels smaller now, reduced to the warmth of his hand on your back and the steady rhythm of his breath. You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat calming and steady.

‘You know,’ he murmurs, his voice soft, ‘you’re the only one who gets to see me like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like I’m just a man. Not a ghost, not a name people fear. Just me.’

You look up at him, brushing your fingers against his jaw. ‘You’ve always been just you, Hector. That’s why I love you.’

His lips find yours, the kiss slow and grounding, like a promise sealed under the moonlight.

‘Don’t let go,’ you whisper.

‘Never,’ he says, his arms tightening around you. And in that moment, you believe him.

#div by y vna #hector fort fluff #héctor fort #hector fort x you #hector fort #hector fort x y/n #hector fort x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football one shot #football fluff #football x reader

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clappingandcheering · 1 day ago

Note

Hii baby, how are you? I wanted to ask Percy something where the reader's relationship with Percy has all 5 love languages? And it's so cute and romantic🙃

I'm so good!!! I hope this is what you meant?? It's like how Percy would show each love language, if that makes sense. I tried!

(Percy Jackson x Reader)

"All the Ways I Love You"

It was one of those quiet nights at Camp Half Blood. The kind where the campfire was flickering in the distance, but it was mostly calm—no monsters, no quests, no chaos. Just the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional laughter from the cabins.

You were lying on a blanket outside your cabin, your head resting on Percy’s chest as he traced lazy circles on your arm. His fingers were warm against your skin, his touch gentle, and you couldn’t help but smile. You were comfortable here, wrapped in his presence.

“You know, you’re really good at this whole'making me feel loved’ thing,” you said, glancing up at him.

Percy chuckled, his hand stopping its movement to cup your face. “You make it easy.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you felt your heart flutter. “Besides, you deserve all the love in the world.”

You smiled, feeling the full weight of the affection in his words. But there was something in his tone, something about the way he said it, that made you think about just how much he loved you—and all the different ways he showed it.

Percy shifted so that he could look you in the eyes, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. He was always a bit awkward with words, but when it came to you, he found a way to speak to your heart.

“You know you’re amazing, right?” He said softly, his voice low but full of sincerity. “Like, I’m seriously lucky to have you. You’re strong and kind, and you make everything better just by being you.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. “I’m not that amazing.”

“Yes, you are,” Percy said, his gaze never leaving yours. “And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me.”

You leant up to kiss him—a soft, lingering kiss that was all about how much you cared for him. But it wasn’t just that kiss—it was everything he said. You could feel his love in every word and every whisper.

Later, when the night air grew cooler, you pulled your jacket tighter around you, shivering slightly. Without a word, Percy stood up and quickly pulled off his hoodie, wrapping it around your shoulders. He didn’t even wait for you to ask; he just did it because he knew you’d need it.

“You’re going to freeze out here if you don’t wear this,” he said, his voice teasing but gentle as he adjusted the hoodie around you.

“I wasn’t cold before, but now that you mention it..." you smiled, feeling the warmth of both the hoodie and his thoughtfulness.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Percy said, sitting back down next to you. “It’s just what I do.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the quiet love in every little thing he did.

The next morning, you woke up to find a small bag of chocolate—your favourite brand—by your bedside. A note was tucked inside that simply read, Thought you might need some sweetness today.

You smiled, recognising Percy’s handwriting, though it was a little messy. He didn’t know much about buying the “perfect” gift, but he always knew exactly what you liked.

When you found him later by the lake, you teased him, holding up the bag of chocolate. “What’s this?”

Percy grinned sheepishly. “I saw it and thought of you. Figured it could make your day a little sweeter.”

You wrapped your arms around him, your heart swelling with affection. “You always know just what I need.”

“Guess I’ve learned a thing or two about you,” he said with a wink, and you kissed him again, feeling the sweetness of both the chocolate and his gesture.

The day continued with the two of you walking along the beach, talking about everything and nothing. Percy made you laugh with his usual jokes, but there was also something soft and serious in the way he’d listen to you—whether you were venting about something small or sharing a memory from your past.

Every moment with him felt like a treasure—just being in each other’s company made everything feel right. You didn’t need grand adventures or flashy gestures; the quiet moments of being together were enough.

“I love just being here with you,” you said, slipping your hand into his.

Percy smiled, his eyes lighting up. “Me too. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

You didn’t need to say anything more. The way he held your hand, how he kept stealing glances at you with that goofy, love-sick grin, told you all you needed to know. Being with him was always enough.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, Percy pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you both sat on the sand. His fingers gently brushed through your hair, and you felt his chest rise and fall against your back with each slow breath.

You snuggled into him, feeling safe, loved, and completely content. His touch was grounding, and every small caress of his hand on your skin sent sparks through you.

“I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You smiled softly, tilting your head to look up at him. “I’d like that.”

And in that moment, you realised that Percy didn’t just love you in one way. He loved you in all the ways that mattered—in every word, every action, every moment spent together. His love was full and infinite, wrapped in gestures both big and small.

"I love you, Percy," you whispered.

"I love you more," he whispered back, and then kissed you softly, tenderly, as if the world outside of the two of you didn’t exist.

With Percy, love wasn’t just something you felt—it was something you experienced in every way, every day. And somehow, it only made you love him more.

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doll3scent · 1 day ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

John Price X Other woman! reader

Warnings- angst, age gap, marital problems, infidelity, arguments, jealousy, the other woman, manipulation, lying, dumb reader.

wc. 2k

a/n. i'd let him manipulate me idc, i've had this in my notes for a while lol

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

John's wife had grown increasingly distant and cold over the past few months, well not months. It's been a year since she'd let him touch her, leaving him feeling alone and uncertain. In search of comfort, he found himself turning to you, a pretty and young thing, who worked at the flower shop down the street.

He spent almost all his free time with you, showering you with gifts and paying for whatever you two were doing together. However, he would always be hesitant to introduce you to any of his friends or to go anywhere that could easily be connected to him.

You were oblivious, loving the attention he gave you, basking happily in his presence. Every gesture, every gift, made you feel special, like you were the center of his world. His charm and the way he seemed to dote on you filled the emptiness you hadn't fully realized was there. You didn't question his reluctance to go public or meet his friends; after all, his affection felt so genuine, and you reveled in the moments you shared, convinced that everything was perfect, unaware of the layers of complexity he was keeping hidden.

He loved the way you looked at him, the soft way you spoke to him, your innocence being so attractive to him. A perfect woman to distract him from his shitty marriage. You were always excited to do something with him, you never questioned the things he said and always believed him. You were like a cute little puppy, so loyal and eager to please. He almost felt bad for lying to you about being married. He did get a secret thrill out of being a married man with a young thing fawning over him. It was a power trip knowing you loved him.

You were so young and beautiful compared to his wife.

She was older and colder than you. He loved the way you were so willing to please him, unlike his wife who just nagged him at every turn. He felt an odd sense of pleasure when you would listen to him and take his instructions. It was so different from his wife, he had to fight everyday to get a word in. With you he had an eager little girl willing to listen always at the ready.

He used work as the perfect excuse to get away and see you. He told his wife he had an important work trip for a few days and she believed him. He would then get a room for the two of you somewhere, where he would spend as much time as possible with you before giving some bullshit excuse of being needed for longer than expected. He loved those little getaways with you. They were like little romantic vacations away from the world, away from his wife. To him, it was like a second honeymoon, where he got to go somewhere nice and spend time with such a young, sweet thing that loved him.

He was so used to the coldness of his own marriage. It was so refreshing to spend time with you instead, you loved him in a way that his wife didn't. He found himself wishing he could be with you all the time, instead of having to go back to his wife.

He was always careful not to let you mark him in any obvious places, knowing that any sign of you could give him away. He couldn't afford for his wife to find out about you. The few times you tried to leave your mark, he insisted it be somewhere easily concealed-on his chest, his upper arm, places that could be hidden under his clothes. His need for secrecy overshadowed his desire for the moments you shared.

Right now, you're in a hotel, and John is in the shower, the sound of water running filling the quiet space. You're curled up in his bed, wearing one of his button-up shirts that falls to your thighs. The top buttons are undone, letting the fabric slip off your shoulder, and your white stockings peek out from beneath the shirt, contrasting with the soft, intimate atmosphere.

John was in the shower, the sound of the water crashing against the tiles filling the room, muffling everything else. His phone, which he had specifically warned you not to answer, rang once more. He had told you it could be work, but the real reason was he didn't want you answering if his wife called. The phone buzzed insistently, the ringtone growing louder in the quiet of the room. You hesitated, the temptation tugging at you. You could ignore it, as he'd always asked.

You felt the strong urge to pick up the phone, your curiosity growing larger as it continued to ring. Yet John had specifically told you he didn't want you answering it. He had told you he was worried it would be his work calling and they would want something from him. You were still so innocent and naive, not knowing the real reason he was so worried about you picking the phone up.

You hesitated for only a moment before giving in, reaching over and grabbing the phone. As your fingers brushed across the screen, the name "Marie" flashed in bold letters. A sense of confusion and curiosity flooded you—who was Marie? Was it a colleague, a friend? You didn't know he had anyone else in his life, and you certainly hadn't imagined it could be someone so close.

You pick up the phone, answering the call. You hold the phone close to your ear, the other end silent for a moment before a woman's voice suddenly comes through. "Hello? John?"

You kept the phone held up to your ear, listening as a woman's voice cut through the silence, sharp and angry. "John! Where the hell have you been? You said you'd be back yesterday! What's your excuse this time? I've had enough of this!" Her tone was laced with frustration, every word dripping with annoyance. "You can't keep disappearing like this, John. I'm done with your games."

You gasp as the phone is suddenly snatched out of your hand, your eyes widening in shock as you look up to see John standing behind you, just a towel wrapped around his waist. His jaw is clenched, his expression furious as his gaze locks onto yours. He holds the phone tightly in his hand, his knuckles white. Without a word, he ends the call, his glare burning into you. His silence speaks volumes, and the weight of the moment presses down on you. His voice finally breaks through the tension, cold and steely: "I told you—no answering my phone." The anger in his tone makes your heart race, and you realize just how serious his one rule was.

"im sorry! it wouldn't stop ringing! i thought it might be important-*

"Important?" John's tone is sharp, his eyes locked onto yours. "You thought it was 'important'? You know the goddamn rule, don't touch my phone. You shouldn't have answered it. I told you not to for a reason." He steps closer, his jaw clenched. You re stunned by his harsh tone and the way he's yelling at you. In all the time you've been together, he's never spoken to you like this before, never raised his voice. Even when he was upset, he was always gentle and kind with you. This was a completely different side, a colder, more stern side you never knew he had. "I told you not to touch my phone, do you understand? Do you have any idea what you just did?" You stared at him so confused, why was he acting like this "what?...what did i do? who was that?"

"Who was that?" John's eyes narrow, his tone still harsh. "That was my wife. And you, with your god damn curiosity, answered her call." He clenches his jaw, his anger clearly evident on his face. "You couldn't just let it ring, could you? You had to pick it up and answer it! What the hell were you thinking?!"

The room seemed to freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sank in. His wife? The truth hit you like a freight train. All this time, he'd been married…You felt the ground beneath you shift, the realization cutting through you like ice. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, the weight of the betrayal crashing down on you. You felt like you were dying, your entire world crumbling in a matter of seconds.

“you're wife?"

Your voice trembles as you utter the words, your eyes widening in shock at the revelation. "My wife, yes." John's voice is sharp as he confirms it. He can see the shock and confusion on your face as he says it. "Are you happy now? You know I'm married, and now you've had a conversation with my goddamn wife!"

"no- i didn't! i didn't say anything-“

"That's not the damn point!" John's voice raises again, his anger still burning. "You answered my phone, when I specifically told you not to! You have no idea what kind of problems you could've just caused!" He steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours. "Do you know how badly this could've turned out if you had actually talked to her? You're so damn lucky you didn't say a word to her!"

The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. John's breathing slowly steadied, his anger simmering down, but his eyes still held a flicker of intensity as he processed the moment. He knew you hadn't actually spoken to his wife, that she still didn't know about you.

The tension in the room felt suffocating. Finally, the quiet was broken by a small, fragile whimper escaping from your lips. “You're married?"

The words seemed to hang in the air, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. John takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he tries to calm down. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before meeting your gaze again. He nods quietly, confirming your question. "Yes, I'm married." His voice is no longer filled with anger, but there's a hint of resignation. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this, but yes, I'm married." But the weight of it hit you like a brick, shattering whatever illusion had been there.

The realization of everything you didn't know, everything you'd been unknowingly part of, left you frozen, vulnerable, and sick to your stomach.

John's voice softened, and a sense of vulnerability crept into his tone as he began to speak. "You have to understand... she's been neglecting me. Ignoring me. I'm stuck in a marriage where she doesn't care about me like she used to. She's so distant, so cold. I've tried to talk to her, but it's like she doesn't even see me anymore." His eyes darkened, and he took a step closer, his posture almost pleading. "I feel so trapped. Alone. Every day it's the same-just silence. I haven't felt loved in so long, and that's why I turned to you."

The words flowed easily, as if he'd practiced them over and over. He painted a picture of himself as the victim, a lonely, neglected man who had no choice but to seek comfort elsewhere. The way he spoke about his wife, the way he justified everything. To anyone else, it would have been clear-John was playing the victim, manipulating the situation to make you feel sorry for him, to make you believe his story.

But you were different. You were so completely enamored with him, so swept up in his attention and the way he made you feel. Every word he said seemed to make sense, to fit perfectly into the narrative you had in your mind of a man misunderstood, alone, needing someone to care for him. You clung to his every word, believing him without question. He was hurt, he was suffering, and that made you want to help him even more. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The weight of his words, the raw emotion in his voice, wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. You wanted to be the one to fix things, to be the one who made him feel loved again. And so, you believed him, blindly, without hesitation. You believed his lies with ease.

#john price #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader angst #john price fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod angst #cheating #the other woman #doll3scentwrites!

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crowsofdarkness · 2 days ago

Text

Moment Of Weakness: Seventeen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066

Monday morning came before I was ready to face it but I knew that there wasn’t any way I would be able to stay home, avoiding my problems, for much longer. My mind had been jumbled with thoughts of Bucky and Steve which made my decision way harder than I would have liked it to be. What did help, however, was that I didn’t hear from either of them the last couple of days, both giving me space when I needed it most.

Now, the half block walk from where I parked my car to the office building gave me time to think even more about the two men.

Steve.

He was a breath of fresh air, something different and inviting. He never once judged me for what I was doing with Bucky. He never said he knew but didn’t have too. Steve was nice from day one when I started and our relationship grew slowly over time and it would be stupid not to give him a chance.

Bucky.

Bucky was everything that I had been wanting for so long, he’s the one that my heart yearns for when I’m not around him. He’s the one that I think of the second I put my head down for the night and the second I rise from the bed.

While there was chemistry when Steve and I kissed, it was alway different with Bucky.

My heart rate would accelerate, pounding all throughout my body while my knees would go weak, unable to stand. There was so much fire and intensity with something unknown hidden behind every one of Bucky’s kisses. I couldn’t explain it, it merely kept me wanting more.

However, there still was the fact that Bucky was married and unable to fully commit to me one hundred percent while Steve was ready to give himself to me; in more ways than one.

In the end, someone was going to get hurt and I was willing for it to be me so neither Bucky nor Steve would fall prey to it.

As I turned the corner, Barnes Industries coming into view, I felt a burning gaze at the back of my head which caused me to turn on my heels. Eyes scanned the busy street, other people getting ready to start their own work day, and when no one seemed out of place, I continued the short walk to the front door.

Only now, the burning intensified and I quickly spun around, this time catching a petite woman dart down the alley a couple feet away from me.

“What the fuck,” I muttered with furrowed brows.

When I turned back around, I collided with a large chest, feet stumbling back and I prepared myself to fall onto the concrete. Strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell.

His eyes bored into mine and my body went rigid with fear.

“Cl-clint.” I stammered.

Clint helped me stand up straight and made a mockery of dusting my shoulders off.

“You should really watch where you’re going, Y/N. You never know who you might run into, literally.”

My lips were pulled in a straight line, too afraid to speak a word, and I did the best I could to move past him through the crowded streets. Two gazes were burning a hole into the back of my head but I didn’t bother to look back and see, knowing who one of them belonged to.

“Shit.”

“Oh fuck!”

A small scream fell from my lips when I collided with yet another body, only this one I felt safe in their embrace as his vibranium hand captured my lower back. Bucky’s blue eyes watching me with concern.

“Doll? Are you alright?”

I shook my head, blinking away a few tears that pooled in my eyes. Bucky looked around before pulling me further inside of the building, helping me sit in the chair at my desk.

He kneeled in front of me, placing a hand on my cheek. “Hey, what happened?”

“I felt as if someone was watching me when I was walking in. I got distracted trying to see who and ended up walking into Clint. There’s no way that he would be in your neighborhood for the hell of it, right?”

Bucky’s shoulders went rigid, a low scowl on his lips. “Only to scare you.”

I shook my head. “I thought you paid off the hit?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” I sniffled.

With both of his hands around the back of my neck, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, the action calming my shaking bones immediately.

“Maybe I should go home. He doesn't know where I live,” I said.

As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help but question that statement. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he knew where I lived.

“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, that way I can make sure you’re safe,” Bucky replied.

I nodded, knowing he was right.

We stared at each other, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as Bucky began to lean in closer and even with the fire burning low in my abdomen, I let out a small cough to put some distance between us.

“I think I’m going to make some coffee, get my mind off what happened.”

“Sure,” Bucky gave me a forced smile and slowly pulled away. “I’ll be in my office and have the door open if you need anything.”

I didn’t bother to see the small look of hurt across his face as I removed myself from his grasp.

Who was that woman? Something about her screamed familiar but I never got a good look at her face.

I mulled those same thoughts in my mind as I stood in front of the coffee maker, teeth caught between my teeth, trying to figure out who that mystery woman was that darted into the alley when I caught her following me.

“Maybe she works with Clint,” I muttered to myself, pouring a rather large cup of coffee.

My third one in a few hours.

The morning slowly spilled into the early afternoon and I had done a great job in avoiding Bucky and Steve, not ready to face the latter. Though, I knew that at some point I would have to talk to him, to let him know how I felt.

“Hey,” a soft voice sounded behind me.

Fuck, I didn’t mean right now.

I sighed, giving Steve a small smile. “Hi.”

“Bucky told me what happened,” Steve said while running a hand through his hair.

“I’m okay,” I assured him, noticing how worried he was. “Clint didn’t hurt me.”

“I promise you, I paid him off. Bucky handed me the money and I brought it to Clint’s house. He gave me his word that the hit is off,” he assured me.

I gave him a firm nod. “Steve, you don’t need to prove yourself. I believe you.”

His shoulders relaxed a bit before I felt his fingers grasp at my own, pulling me towards his office. “Can we talk, in private?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I knew that this conversation would happen eventually and now would be the best time to get it over with. No more avoiding it.

“Sure.”

I let Steve gently pull me into his office and once the door was closed, he motioned for the couch that sat in place on the other end of the room. We both sat, with some distance between us.

He ran a hand over his beard and let out a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. You’re going through a lot right now and I shouldn’t have added more by kissing you.”

I place a hand on his knee. “I wanted that kiss just as much as you did, Steve.”

His face brightened. “You did?”

“Yeah. We’ve been doing this dance for months now, it was only a matter of time.”

Steve sighed. “But-.”

My heart stung when I realized he had a hint of what I was going to say, his tone of voice sounding so broken.

This time I linked our hands together. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to be with you if I’m not 100 percent committed to you. You don’t deserve that.”

Steve’s blue eyes twinkled under the light from his office. “But you do?”

I blinked, a bit caught off guard, and didn’t know how to answer him only because he was right. Why did I deserve to be with someone that wasn’t committed to me?

“I can’t explain it,” I admitted with a shrug. “There’s something about him that it’s hard to let go.”

Steve lifted my chin when I looked down ashamed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Y/N. I’m used to losing girls to Buck.”

“Do you hate me?” I asked with a shaky breath.

“I could never hate you.”

We gazed into each other's eyes and even with the magnetic pull I felt bringing me in closer to him, I fought against it by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You’re a good man, Rogers,” I breathed against his skin.

The bright glow of the moon spilled through the large windows of the building and with a low breath, I packed up my things purposely taking my time. I had to leave, go home for the night, but I was afraid of walking to my car alone with what happened this morning.

Steve had left a few hours ago, with a quick wave but broken eyes, and it did nothing to mend the hurt I felt in my stomach. It made me sick, knowing I caused him that pain.

I glanced over to the office behind me, the man lounging on his couch with his head resting against the back of it, eyes shut in quiet solace.

We spent the majority of the day avoiding each other but now that I needed to ask him a huge favor, I wasn’t quite sure on how Bucky would answer.

A gentle tap sounded on the frame of his door causing him to open his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Headed out?” Bucky nodded to my purse and jacket.

I nodded. “I know I’ve been avoiding you all day so feel free to say no.”

With his own nod, I continued. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”

“Of course, doll.”

Bucky’s smile warmed my heart and I waited patiently as he slipped on his leather jacket. “Ready?”

“Yea,” I smiled.

The cold night air wrapped around us and I made an effort to bring my jacket closer to me, in hope of creating some sort of heat. Bucky noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. The warmth that radiated from him quickly spread to my own body and I silently moaned at the feeling.

“Bucky?”

My voice was quiet but he still heard, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “You alright, doll?”

We came to a stop in front of my car and I avoided leaving; not before telling him exactly how I felt about everything.

My palm rested against his cheek, his plump lips pressing a kiss upon the skin there and the butterflies that laid dormant the last few days began to flutter to life.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I said.

Bucky nodded in my grasp. “I don’t want to hurt you, doll.”

“I like you a lot, Bucky.”

He quickly brought me closer to him, our nose grazing against one another.

“The feelings are mutual.”

His voice was deep which made my core itch with desire.

Bucky began digging around in his pocket and placed a small, white card in my hand. As the words burned into my brain, my lips curled up in a smile.

Matt Murdock. New York’s Best Divorce Lawyer.

“A divorce?” I questioned, with so much optimism.

He answered my question by capturing our lips together, his own feeling so soft and tasted like the bourbon I saw him drink earlier in the night. Our bodies molded together, as they always did, and I nibbled on his bottom lip when he pulled away.

“I’m hoping by the end of the month she’ll be served with the papers.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You’re really leaving her?”

Vibranium fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For you, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. The mere thought of possibly losing you to Steve was a wake up call. I can’t lose you and I will do anything to keep you.”

Our lips met in yet another heated kiss, Bucky pushing me up against the cold metal of my car and I looped my fingers into the belt loops of his pants to bring him closer to me, needing that reminder of how his cock felt pressed against me.

We were so engrossed in each other, our possible future together, that neither of us felt the burning eyes from the figure that lingered in the darkness.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #mob!bucky barnes and yn #moment of weakness bucky barnes

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starlightsreigns · 2 days ago

Text

get it together | s.sikoa

summary ⇢ emelie wants to work it out, she love's sefa too much to give up, but he needs to meet her hallway. word count ⇢ 2.1k tags ⇢ minors, do not interact. angst(kinda) and explicit language. author’s corner ⇢ thank u for the request, @bratzzzdoll this was an absolute thrill to write and hope you like it! x "i don't really wanna stay, i don't really wanna go."

Emelie brushes her hair into a neat ponytail. She stares into her vanity for a long moment, takes in her facial features then gently brushes under her eyes and takes a deep breath. Emelie feels tired, she looks tired, but she presents a front to the world where everything is perfect. There was a time when everything felt perfect, but perfect doesn’t exist in this life.

Downstairs, Emelie stands in the kitchen, prepping dinner. Cooking is her safe space and anytime she needs a moment to herself, she can’t help but cook a random meal she found online or bake so many sweets she’d have to ask her friends to come over and take them before she eats it all.

The house is quieter than usual, deciding against playing music tonight so she can be fully alone with her thoughts.

Sefa should’ve been home by now, but as of late, he’s come home later and later.

What has become of their relationship? There used to be a time when he’d be home the second he was done with training or with work. He’d burst through the door and wrap his arms around her and smother her in kisses then they’d eat dinner on the couch. Yet, now, he’d stay out late with his friends and she’d barely get a kiss.

They’re complacent.

Several years down in their relationship, nothing is progressing past the point of being boyfriend and girlfriend. They don’t officially live together, there’s no talk about the future and what’s to come.

Emelie gets it, truly, she gets it. WWE is demanding and he has relationships to foster through that tight schedule, but she’s taken the back seat in his life — on the totem pole, she’s found herself at the bottom.

How do they reconcile this?

“Emz?” His voice reverberates through the house.

“In the kitchen,” Emelie shouts as she moves to a different sauce pan. She hears the kitchen door open. “Hey, baby.”

Sefa peeks over her shoulder at the food, “I’ve had a long day.” He groans.

“Oh? What happened?” Emilie focuses on the fish she’s cooking.

Without a kiss, or acknowledging her, Sefa goes on to complain about his training and the myriad of other issues with his upcoming storyline. There’s a point where Emilie zones out, looking up and out of the window at the sink.

“I’m sorry it was so bad,” Emelie rubs his shoulder and sets his dinner in front of him. “Want a drink?”

“Nah, actually, Imma go shower and put the game on.”

Emelie watched him stand from the table with his plate and walk away. She takes a step forward then immediately stops. For a moment a pang hits her chest and she wants to say something, but instead she goes to finish the dishes in the sink. Her hands work roughly on the pans as her breathing quickens. She wants to kick, scream, and cry for him to see how she feels.

The simplest route is the hardest one and it rings in her ear: Emelie just leave.

She loves Sefa more than anything. They’ve gone through so much together, they’ve been through rough patches and those were easier than the pain she’s suffering now. This isn’t the love they’ve grown through the years. It makes her question whether or not there’s someone else.

“There’s no one else.” Emelie says aloud and drops the pan in the sick. The thought shocks her. It wasn’t a safe or healthy thing to ponder. She knows deep down in her heart that Sefa wouldn’t do that.

After setting the pans to dry and cleaning up, Emelie walks into the living room to see him in front of the TV. Sefa glances back at her then goes back to the TV. She stops behind the sofa and clocks the plate still filled with food.

“You not hungry, Sefa?” Emelie questions softly.

“Nah, I had dinner with the twins earlier.”

Emelie waits for a moment, waits to see if he’ll say anything else, but continues up towards the stairs where her purse sits in the first step. If she didn’t go home tonight, she’d lose her mind. Emelie ponders on it but goes up the stairs. She doesn’t want to leave, but she needs to leave… no, she doesn’t want to leave.

In the bedroom, she stares into the mirror and decides she needs to make a point. If she doesn’t go home, Sefa will think this is okay.

“Emelie?” Sefa clears his throat as he watches her put her jacket on downstairs. “Where you goin’?”

“I’m going home.” She speaks softly while tying her shoelaces. “I need to go home.”

Sefa stands up, “Emz, what’s going on?”

Emelie whips towards him, “Get it together, Sefa, I need to go and if it’s forever is up to you.”

A quick escape is nearly impossible when he rushes in front of her. Emelie stares at him, but it’s not a look filled with anger, it’s one of sadness. She doesn’t want to do this, but her back is against a wall.

“Emelie, baby, talk to me.” Sefa holds her cheeks in the palms of his hand. “What’s going”

“Why do you treat me the way that you, Sefa, we’ve been dating for almost five years and you treat me like I’m a house lady that takes over your space when you’re here. You don’t even come home and kiss me and spend time with me anymore.” Emelie looks down to keep the tears at bay. “And now I’m begging you—”

Sefa wipes a tear off her cheek, “Baby, I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like that.” He whispers softly and pulls her against his chest. “Please don’t leave, Emz.”

Emelie shuts her eyes for a second, “I just need to go home for the night, Sefa, I need a second.”

“i’m fed up with you not being here with me”

Her house feels colder. Emelie, for the past three years, spent most of her time at Sefa’s house. It was just easier for them to be there. She lived almost an hour away and her job was the midpoint. It was a convenient thing —but he never truly asked her to move it, so much so that she had to pack her bags for weeks at a time. Yet, the past three hours in her own home makes her slightly uncomfortable.

Emelie sits on the edge of her bed on her phone. She sighs at a text message from Sefa. She’s not going to break up with, she loves him too much for that, but Emelie just wants him to understand that there needs to be something more.

The text message makes her smile softly.

sefa: emz, i love you so much and im sorry i haven’t made you feel like i do. but baby, you the love of my life and i promise you’ll never question it ever it again. okay? can you please come home?

Emelie sighs. A second message makes her get out of bed.

sefa: emelie, will you come home? come open the door.

A silly look passes on her face as she makes her way to her front door. She opens it slowly. Sefa stands there with a bowl. He opens it slowly and Emelie can’t help but laugh softly. In the bowl is what looks like some semblance of food, but she’s not sure what.

“I cooked you dinner, and I’m hopin’ we can eat it at home together.” Sefa gives her a sincere grin. “Emelie, forgive me baby and I’ll never take you for granted ever again.”

Emelie stares at him for a second and nods. “I forgive you, baby,”

Sefa sets the bowl down then pulls Emelie into him and plants a soft kiss on her lips. She melts into him and smiles until they pull away.

“I know this is a couple years overdue, but Emz, I want you to move in. I want you to feel comfortable. It’s always been our home and you should feel like it is.” Sefa moves her hair out of her face. “Is it a yes?”

“I just want us to have better communication,” Emelie searches his eyes. “But yes, I’ll move in with you, baby.” She smiles brightly, jumping into his arms.

“You know love is all I need”

Emelie stares into the mirror as she nitpicks her outfit. She spent over an hour trying to figure out what to wear until she landed on a little red dress Sefa bought for her years ago, she paired it with the highest heels she owns, and allowed her curls to fan out over her shoulder. Emelie smiles into the mirror. In all honesty, Sefa hinted at wanting to see her in the outfit tonight, so she obliged.

“Good enough to fuck,” she laughs at herself.

Since moving in, things have been… a work in progress. Things don’t change overnight, but Sefa is better at his communication and it’s made things easier to work on. Most days are easier than others, but five years makes you immune sometimes.

Tonight, Emelie decided to surprise him. In her sexiest outfit, she made his favorite meal, his second favorite dessert and kept his favorite dessert (her), ready to go.

Yet, the clock reads 10 and Emelie finds herself sitting alone at the dinner table. She looks down at her phone with a deep breath. She opens her text messages and sends him one message.

Emelie: hey baby, you coming home soon?

… then another fifteen minutes later.

Emelie: hey, are you okay?

… and another.

Emelie: Sefa. Just let me know you’re alive and safe.

Once the clock reads 11:45, Emelie is past the point of anger. He was supposed to be home at 8:30. She glances at her phone when he finally texts back and her jaw drops.

Sefa: damn emzzz, im otw

A ticking time bomb activates inside of her. She pushes her chair back and grabs the plates of food from the table. Emelie practically kicks down the door of the kitchen and marches to the trash can. Through the anger, she drops the food and the plates into the trash.

“He really must have me fucked up.” She grits.

Emelie paces the kitchen in hopes to calm herself down. Finally, she takes a massive breath and exits the kitchen in time to see Sefa walk through the door. Her eyes zeros in on him and he can see the anger in them.

“Baby, please, just come here.” He immediately runs towards and takes her hand. “Emz, lemme explain and I swear it’ll make sense.”

She doesn’t respond. Emelie can’t find a word to describe her anger nor her disappointment. Everything has been going so good and he goes and fucks it up like this.

“First of all, I’m sorry I ain’t text back or called before.” He cups her face. “I’m sorry about the dinner I know you cooked for us.” Sefa glances back at the table.

Emelie pouts softly as she feels the tears coming, “Sefa, what the fuck is up with you?”

“Baby, just come with me and I’ll show you.”

As hesitant as Emelie was, she followed him out to his car. It wasn’t too long of a drive and confusion knits on her face when they pull into a neighborhood. The houses are extravagant, not that Sefa’s house wasn’t already insane, but these were just insane!

Sefa opens the passenger side door and helps Emelie out.

“What are we doin’ here?” Emelie looks at him. “Whose fucking house is this?”

A look passes on Sefa’s face. He stares at Emelie then smiles, “This our house, baby.”

Emelie doesn’t move and she doesn’t say a word. Her mouth hangs open as she turns to look at it. It’s a house out of her pinterest board dreams.

“You’re fucking lying,” Emelie gasps and walks up to him. “You’re lying, is the bitch you’re fucking living here?” She jokes.

“Baby, the only person I’m fucking is you, and we live here.”

It was all too much. Emelie pulls him closer and crashes her lips onto his. The tears that were at bay earlier fall like a waterfall onto her cheek. Sefa hugs her waist tightly and hums.

“I know I’m not the easiest to love, Emelie, but you deserve this and more.” He peers into her eyes whilst holding her up. “I love you.”

Emelie rubs her nose against his, “I’ll always love, Sefa, no matter what.”

“Wanna go see inside?” Sefa whispers against her lips. “I think you gonna like the bedroom.”

Emelie bites her lip, “Of course.”

this was very fun to write, hope you all enjoyed it x

send your request, as usual, and i'll try to get them done!

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