#but it's been a rough day and i just had to laugh at it

[honeyncherry]

everything i never asked for - joe burrow

summary valentine’s day with joe

content fluff fluff fluff

You didn’t expect much for Valentine’s Day this year. The past couple of months had been rough, between everything that happened and Joe’s whirlwind schedule with the Pro Bowl, Honors, and the Super Bowl. You figured today would be low-key. Maybe just a lazy morning, a home-cooked meal, and some much needed rest.

And that was exactly how the day started.

You wake up to slow, warm kisses along your shoulder, Joe's voice still rough from sleep as he murmurs, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He pulls you closer, his arm heavy around your waist, and for a while, you stayed tangled in the covers, soaking in the rare, quiet stillness.

By late morning, he’s in the kitchen making breakfast (if you can even call it that). He’s in a pair of grey sweats that hang low on his hips, hair still messy, leaning against the counter with a smug look as you do most of the work.

He claims he’s helping, but really, he’s just standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, sneaking bites of the pancakes you’re making.

Later in the afternoon, your phone buzzes. A friend asks if you want to meet up for a little Galentine’s date. You hesitate, glancing at Joe, but before you can even consider turning it down, he nudges you.

"Go."

"No—"

"Seriously, go. You deserve a break from me," he jokes, smirking as he stretches out on the couch. "Besides, I promise I won’t waste away in your absence."

You narrow your eyes at him, sensing he’s up to something, but he looks completely unbothered. Eventually, you give in, grab your things, and head out.

The afternoon is easy, spent catching up and laughing, but a small part of you keeps thinking about Joe. How effortless the morning felt. How rare it is for him to have time to just be.

When you finally return home, you’re not expecting much, maybe him still sprawled on the couch, half-asleep. But the second you step inside, you realize something is different.

The lights are dim. Candles flicker along the dining table, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The smell of something savory lingers in the air, and standing in the middle of it all is Joe. He’s changed into something nicer, sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms as he finishes setting the table, looking both ridiculously proud of himself and a little nervous.

"What is this?" you ask, blinking at the setup.

"A proper Valentine’s Day," he says, wiping his hands on a dish towel before making his way over to you. "Figured you deserved at least one romantic surprise today."

The table is set with the fine china set you two received as a housewarming gift. A homemade meal is waiting, something he clearly put effort into, even if a few little mishaps, like the slightly burnt garlic bread, give away his struggles. A bottle of wine is already open, two glasses waiting.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he tugs you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back as he whispers, “Missed you today.”

The evening flows effortlessly, filled with laughter, teasing, and Joe dramatically complaining about “how hard cooking is” as he watches you take your first bite. He studies your reaction like it determines his entire fate, waiting for your verdict. You hum thoughtfully, dragging it out just to mess with him before finally breaking into a smile.

"It’s actually really good, Joe."

"You’re lying."

"No, I swear! Well… except maybe the garlic bread."

"Knew you were gonna say that."

You’re both grinning. He reaches across the table, fingers brushing over yours and his voice softer as he says, "I know things have been a lot recently."

He pauses, thumb grazing over your knuckles before meeting your eyes again. "I just wanted today to be about you. You deserve that."

Somehow, that means more to you than any grand gesture ever could.

After dinner, you both end up curled on the couch, his arm draped over your shoulders as some random movie plays in the background. You’re not really paying attention, just floating on the high of the day, tucked against his side, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your arm.

Then, without warning, Joe suddenly untangles himself from you and disappears into the kitchen. You barely have time to question it before he’s back, a small bakery box in his hands, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Chocolate cake?" you ask, already smiling as he flips the lid open to reveal two thick slices of rich, decadent cake from your favorite bakery.

"Went out earlier and got it while you were gone," he says, settling back beside you. He grabs a fork, slicing off a bite before holding it up to your lips with an expectant look. "I’ll share. If you’re nice."

You roll your eyes but take the bite, humming in satisfaction as the sweetness melts on your tongue. It’s perfect, exactly how you like it. But before you can even reach for your own fork, Joe steals another bite, straight from your slice, grinning like he’s getting away with something.

"Joe!"

"What?" he says around a mouthful of cake, not even remotely guilty.

You huff, reaching for the box, but he shifts just out of reach, holding the fork and the cake hostage. It turns into a game, him dodging your attempts to take control of the dessert, laughter bubbling between you, the weight of the last few months feeling lighter than it has in a long time. Eventually he relents, letting you have your share, though not without sneaking a few extra bites when he thinks you’re too distracted.

By the time the cake is gone, Joe shifts slightly, adjusting so you’re tucked even closer. His fingers mindlessly trace over your knuckles where your hand rests against his chest, the warmth of his body easing you into a quiet, content haze.

You let out a sigh, fingertips grazing over his arm. "Thank you for today." His lips brush across your forehead, then your cheek, before finally pressing a tender kiss to your lips — his own silent way of saying you’re welcome.

The movie plays on, just background noise now, filling the quiet between your slowed breaths. His thumb moves absentmindedly over your wrist, a quiet, familiar touch that still makes your heart flutter after all this time.

Just when you think he might be drifting off, Joe presses another kiss to the top of your head, lingering for a second longer than necessary.

"This was nice."

You smile against his shirt, barely lifting your head. "Yeah?"

He hums in response, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm. "Yeah. Just us. Feels good."

There’s something unspoken in the way he says it, in the way his hold tightens around you, like he needed today just as much as you did. Maybe more.

You don’t say anything back. You don’t need to. Instead, you let your fingers lace through his, soaking in the kind of serenity that can only be found in moments like this.

As the candlelight flickers, casting golden warmth over the both of you, you realize that maybe you hadn’t expected much for Valentine’s Day. You hadn’t asked for anything, hadn’t wished for anything elaborate.

But Joe?

He’s always there, giving you more than you ever thought to ask for.

[dreaminguponlilypads]

PUNISHMENT.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

pt. 2

happy birthday to me lol, you guys have starved for a fic long enough so i shall feed you. tell me if you want pt.2

You had never thought someone like Ghost would ever look twice at you.

You were quiet. A recruit who blended into the background, more comfortable observing than being in the spotlight. You had your own demons—self-doubt, anxiety, the constant nagging thought that you weren’t enough. That you’d never be enough.

But then he came along.

He had seen you when no one else did. Not just as a soldier, but as a person. His patience, his quiet reassurances, the way his hand would linger at the small of your back or how he’d pull you into his warmth after a rough day—it had all been real. Or so you thought.

Until you saw the messages.

Soap: Congrats, ya big muppet. Can’t believe yer actually gonna do it.

Gaz: Who would’ve thought a lost bet would end up here?

Price: Never seen you so whipped, mate. From bet to buying a ring—hell of a journey.

Soap: Aye, remember when he was grumbling about even asking em out? Now look at him.

Your stomach twisted as you read and reread the words.

A bet.

It had all started as a joke.

The relationship that had saved you, that had made you feel wanted, seen, loved—had started as nothing more than a game to him.

You wanted to be angry. Wanted to storm up to him, demand an explanation, throw the damn phone at his chest. But you couldn’t.

Because how could you be mad at something you had already feared deep down?

Of course, it had been too good to be true.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that Simon really wanted you, that he really saw something in you. But now? The gnawing insecurity that he had helped you fight off came roaring back with a vengeance.

Your hands were shaking when you set his phone back on the table.

You needed to get out of here.

-

Simon knew something was wrong the second he walked into your shared quarters.

He found you standing there, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes red-rimmed like you had been holding back tears. His stomach dropped.

“Love?” His voice was low, cautious. “What’s wrong?”

You forced out a shaky breath. “Was it all a bet?”

Silence.

Your heart clenched as you watched his expression flicker—confusion, realization, then something that almost looked like fear.

“Where’d you hear that?” His voice had taken on that measured tone he used in the field. Like he was calculating his next move.

You let out a hollow laugh. “Does it matter?” You lifted his phone slightly before setting it back down. “Your team’s got quite the sense of humor.”

He cursed under his breath. “It’s not what you think.”

You swallowed hard. “Then tell me what it is, Simon. Tell me why the man who made me believe I was worth something only asked me out because he lost.”

His eyes darkened. “It was a stupid bet. A joke between the lads. I didn’t think—I didn’t know—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “I never expected to fall for you.”

You flinched at the choice of words. “But you still lied.”

“I didn’t lie—”

“You didn’t tell me,” you shot back. “That’s the same thing.”

His lips pressed into a tight line. “I was ashamed.” His voice was quieter now. “Didn’t want you to think—” He cut himself off, jaw clenching before he forced himself to look at you. “Didn’t want you to think this wasn’t real.”

Your breath hitched. “But it wasn’t real. Not at first.”

His silence was all the confirmation you needed.

You had spent so long fighting off the belief that you weren’t good enough. That you weren’t worthy of someone like him. And now, every whispered fear, every creeping doubt, had been proven right.

You felt yourself withdrawing, curling inward, that familiar weight of insecurity pressing down on your chest. The walls you had let him tear down were rebuilding themselves brick by brick.

“I need to go,” you choked out, turning towards the door.

His hand caught your wrist, firm but careful. “Baby, please,” he murmured. “Don’t shut me out.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing ragged. You wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that everything he had done for you, every loving caress, every whispered reassurance, hadn’t just been out of guilt or obligation.

But how could you?

You pulled your wrist free, ignoring the way his fingers lingered, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“I can’t do this right now,” you whispered.

And then you walked away, leaving Simon standing there with his hands clenched at his sides, the weight of a ring box in his pocket feeling heavier than ever.

[amourquinn]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 ; quinn hughes

( short fic )

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.3k

genre : fluff no warnings

summary : quinn is feeling sore before valentine’s day, so you show up early to take care of him proving that love isn’t about grand gestures — it’s about being there when it matters most

you sighed in relief as you pulled into the driveway of the lake house, the familiar sight of the cabin-like home easing the weight that had settled on your chest for the past few days.

quinn had been here with his brothers for nearly a week, taking a much-needed break from the season. but then, two days ago, he got injured. nothing major—just a rough hit during their pond hockey game that left him with a bruised rib and a sore body. he assured you over the phone that he was fine, but you knew him better than that.

which was exactly why you were here now, a full day earlier than planned.

you stepped out of the car, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder, and made your way inside. the house was warm, a stark contrast to the winter air outside, and mostly quiet except for the faint sound of a tv playing in another room.

“y/n?”

you turned toward the familiar voice just as jack appeared in the hallway, his face lighting up in surprise. “hey! i thought you were coming tomorrow.”

“i was,” you said, setting your bag down. “but someone i love is too stubborn to admit when he’s not okay, so i figured i’d come early.”

jack snorted. “yeah, that sounds about right.”

“where is he?”

“upstairs, passed out in bed. he’s been exhausted all day.”

you nodded, already making your way toward the stairs. “thanks, jack.”

“no problem. and, y/n?” you paused, looking over your shoulder. jack smirked. “good luck prying him off you when he realizes you’re here.”

you just smiled and headed upstairs.

—

you found quinn exactly how you expected—curled up in bed, buried beneath the blankets, his face relaxed in sleep. his messy hair stuck to his forehead slightly, and you could see the faint furrow in his brows, even in rest.

your heart clenched. he must have been more exhausted than he let on.

carefully, you sat on the edge of the bed, brushing your fingers through his hair. “quinn,” you whispered softly.

he stirred, a quiet groan escaping his lips before his eyes fluttered open. at first, he looked dazed, but then his gaze focused on you, and his entire face softened.

“y/n?” his voice was rough with sleep, but there was something else in it too—relief.

“hey, baby.” you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “i’m here.”

quinn didn’t waste a second. he shifted, wincing slightly, and pulled you into his arms, tucking his face into your neck. “missed you,” he mumbled against your skin.

you melted into him, running your fingers up and down his back carefully. “i missed you too.”

“you’re early.”

“you didn’t actually think i was gonna let you spend valentine’s day eve injured and alone, did you?”

he huffed a small laugh. “i’m not alone.”

you pulled back slightly, raising a brow. “jack said you’ve been in bed all day.”

quinn sighed, not even trying to argue. “i’m just tired.”

“i know, sweet boy,” you murmured, cupping his face gently. “did you take your meds?”

he hesitated.

“quinn.”

he groaned. “i was gonna.”

you rolled your eyes fondly. “you’re lucky i love you.”

“i know,” he said immediately, lips twitching. “you wouldn’t be here early if you didn’t.”

you sighed, shaking your head before pressing another kiss to his forehead. “stay here. i’ll be right back.”

quinn whined dramatically but let you go, watching as you disappeared into the bathroom. you returned a minute later with a glass of water and the painkillers he was supposed to take.

“sit up,” you instructed gently.

he did as you said, wincing slightly as he adjusted himself. you handed him the pills, watching as he took them before you climbed back into bed beside him.

the second you were settled, quinn wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you close. you fit perfectly against him, your warmth soothing the lingering aches in his body.

“i like you here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

you smiled, threading your fingers through his. “good, because i’m not going anywhere.”

you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the quiet hum of the tv in the background. quinn’s breathing evened out again, his body relaxing against yours as exhaustion took over.

as you held him, running soft circles along his back, you realized something—this was what love looked like. not grand gestures or extravagant dates, but this. showing up when he needed you. taking care of him when he wouldn’t admit he needed it. just being there.

tomorrow was valentine’s day. but right now, this moment? it was already more than enough.

and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

—

the next morning, you woke up before quinn. that wasn’t a surprise—he was still exhausted, and after everything his body had been through, he needed the rest.

you carefully untangled yourself from his grip, which was a task in itself. even in sleep, he was reluctant to let you go, his arm tightening around your waist every time you moved. but after a few gentle whispers and a kiss to his forehead, he finally relaxed enough for you to slip out of bed.

you tiptoed downstairs, smiling when you saw jack and luke in the kitchen.

“morning,” luke greeted, taking a sip of his coffee. “how’s the patient?”

“still asleep,” you said, grabbing a mug for yourself. “but i want to do something small for him when he wakes up.”

jack smirked. “you’re making us all look bad, you know that?”

you grinned. “that’s the goal.”

you spent the next hour putting together a simple breakfast—pancakes, eggs, and bacon, with a side of fresh fruit. jack and luke helped, mostly by keeping you entertained with stories about quinn growing up, but when you brought up valentine’s day, both of them groaned.

“he’s so bad at it,” luke said. “like, he tries, but—”

“he’s an awkward mess,” jack finished.

you laughed. “i don’t need anything big from him. just him.”

jack mock-gagged. “you guys are disgusting.”

you just rolled your eyes and focused on finishing breakfast.

—

by the time you carried the tray upstairs, quinn was awake, though still groggy. his hair was sticking up in every direction, and he blinked up at you with sleepy confusion as you walked in.

“y/n?” his voice was hoarse.

“happy valentine’s day, sweet boy,” you said softly, setting the tray down beside him.

quinn’s brows furrowed, like he was still catching up. then his gaze dropped to the food, and his expression softened. “you did this for me?”

“of course i did.” you sat beside him, reaching out to brush his messy hair back. “did you really think i wouldn’t?”

quinn didn’t say anything. he just looked at you, like he was trying to figure out how he got so lucky. then, without warning, he leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

you melted instantly.

“thank you,” he murmured when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours.

“you’re welcome.” you smiled, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “now eat before it gets cold.”

quinn hummed, pulling the tray onto his lap. he took a bite of the pancakes, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second. “you’re perfect.”

you laughed. “you’re just saying that because i made you food.”

“no,” quinn said, shaking his head. “i mean it.”

you felt your heart squeeze.

you leaned into his side, watching as he ate, feeling the warmth of him against you. maybe it wasn’t some big, grand valentine’s day. there were no fancy dinner reservations, no over-the-top gifts.

but you had this—quiet, simple moments filled with love.

and to you, that was perfect.

© amourquinn

[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[hyuniemyunie]

Valentine's Day ⋆˚☆˖°

batfam x gn reader, what they do on valentines day

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): yes i know it's not valentines day anymore leave me alone😞

bruce wayne x gn!reader – established relationship, private romance. dick grayson x gn!reader – fluff and cuddles. jason todd x gn!reader – mutual pining, banter, secretly soft bbg jason. tim drake x gn!reader – overworked tim, sleepy cuddles. cassandra cain x gn!reader – quiet love, soft romance, slow dancing at midnight. duke thomas x gn!reader – playful, cozy, best friends to lovers ahh. damian wayne x gn!reader – first crush, flustered damian, he tries so hard plssss.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

A Billionaire, A Vigilante, and a Valentine Walk into a Batcave

Bruce Wayne had never been one for grand romantic gestures.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you—if anything, he loved you too much. But after years of loss, of burying himself in duty, love was something he struggled to express. So, when Valentine’s Day rolled around, you didn’t expect much. Maybe a quiet dinner, maybe nothing at all.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into the Batcave and find Bruce sitting at the massive computer, looking incredibly out of place with a single red rose resting on the console beside him.

You blinked. “Uh. Bruce?”

He turned, and for a moment, he looked like he regretted this whole thing. “I—” He cleared his throat, glancing at the rose like it was something unfamiliar. “This is for you.”

You picked it up, feeling the soft petals beneath your fingers. “Are we having a Beauty and the Beast moment here, or…?”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of amusement. “You deserve more than this.”

You sighed, stepping closer. “Bruce. I don’t need fancy gifts. I just need you.”

Something in his shoulders eased. He reached for your hand, pressing your fingers between his own, rough and calloused. “Then that’s what you’ll have.”

You kissed him, slow and steady, grounding him in the moment. He wasn’t Batman right now. He wasn’t Gotham’s protector. He was just Bruce—yours.

And that was more than enough.

Sweeter Than Any Valentine

Valentine’s Day was Dick’s holiday. The man loved love.

Which was why you weren’t surprised when you woke up to the smell of something burning in the kitchen.

Groaning, you threw off the covers and stumbled toward the chaos. Dick stood at the stove, flipping a heart-shaped pancake that looked more like a crime scene than breakfast. His hair was an absolute mess, his apron was somehow inside out, and when he turned around, he had flour streaked across his cheek.

“Morning, babe!” he greeted, far too cheerful for a man currently destroying your kitchen. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

You rubbed your eyes. “Do I even want to know what happened here?”

Dick glanced at the pancake. “Okay, so, in theory, this was supposed to be romantic.”

“In practice?”

“In practice, I may have set off the smoke alarm… twice.”

You snorted. “Dick, you could’ve just taken me out for breakfast.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been made with love!” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, flour-covered hands resting on your waist. “I wanted to do something special for you.”

You softened, leaning into him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now sit tight—I promise at least one of these pancakes will be edible.”

Even if they weren’t, you couldn’t care less. Because Dick was the sweetest thing in the world, burnt pancakes or not.

Shot Through the Heart

Jason Todd didn’t do Valentine’s Day.

Or, at least, that’s what he claimed.

So when you found a box of chocolates and a book you had casually mentioned wanting last month sitting on your desk, you knew exactly who to blame.

You picked up the note taped to it, unfolding the messy, familiar handwriting:

This is stupid. You’re stupid. Enjoy your stupid gift. –J

You laughed. Classic Jason, you were going to strangle him to dea-

That night, when he showed up at your window—because of course he did—you leaned against the frame, holding up the note. “Real smooth, Casanova.”

Jason scowled. “Tch. You weren’t supposed to know it was from me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Jason. It literally has your handwriting.”

“…Dammit.”

You grinned, stepping aside so he could climb in. “So, what, you just broke into my place to deny giving me a Valentine’s gift?”

He flopped onto your couch, crossing his arms. “No. I came to make sure you actually liked it.”

You sat beside him, smirking. “And?”

“…And I guess you do.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I suck at this romance crap, but—”

You cut him off with a kiss. Just a quick one, just enough to make him go utterly still. When you pulled away, his face was bright red.

“…Huh.” He blinked. “That was. Uh.”

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not as bad at romance as you think, Jay.”

His arm curled around you, squeezing lightly. “Don’t push it.”

But he was smiling.

Valentine’s Day: A Strategic Disaster

Tim Drake had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day.

Which was why, at 11:57 PM, you found him half-asleep at his desk, energy drink in one hand, typing furiously with the other. He didn’t even notice you standing there until you cleared your throat.

“Tim.”

No response.

You stepped closer. “Tim.”

Nothing.

With a sigh, you snatched the energy drink from his hand.

His head snapped up, blinking blearily. “Huh? Wha—?” His eyes focused on you, then the drink in your hand, then the date on his screen.

“Oh, crap.” His face went pale. “Wait. Did I—?”

“Forget Valentine’s Day?” You leaned against his desk, arms crossed. “Yep.”

Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I had a plan. I was gonna—ugh. This is a disaster.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Tim. I don’t care about all that. I care about you.”

He looked at you, exhausted and guilty. “But I wanted to do something nice.”

You grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward the couch. “Here’s something nice: You sleeping for at least six hours.”

“But—”

“Nope.” You pushed him down onto the cushions and flopped beside him. “You can make it up to me later. Right now, you’re getting some damn rest.”

He blinked, then, slowly, slowly, let himself sink against you, his head dropping onto your shoulder.

“…This is nice,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. “Told you.”

Tim made a small, content noise, and within minutes, he was out cold.

And honestly? This was the best Valentine’s Day gift he could’ve given you.

A Blade Between the Ribs Would Be Less Painful

Damian Wayne did not get nervous.

Except, apparently, when it came to you.

He had researched Valentine’s Day. Studied it like a mission. Planned the perfect confession. And yet, here he was, standing in front of you, holding a gift behind his back, completely frozen.

You blinked at him. “Uh. Damian?”

He cleared his throat, straightening. “I have acquired a gift for you.”

You tilted your head. “Oh?”

With stiff movements, he thrust the box toward you. Inside was a single, perfectly crafted dagger, gleaming under the light.

You stared. “Damian.”

“…Yes?”

“This is a weapon.”

He frowned. “Obviously.”

You fought back a laugh. “Most people give chocolates.”

He scowled. “Chocolates are temporary. This will protect you.”

Your heart melted. He was so earnest, even if his idea of romance was giving you something sharp and deadly.

You stepped closer, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. Damian went rigid.

“I love it,” you whispered. “Thank you, Damian.”

His face was bright red. “Tt.” He turned away, muttering something about how emotions were tedious, but you caught the tiny, satisfied smile on his lips.

Mission: Successful.

Dancing in the Dark

Cass wasn’t one for words, but she didn’t need them to tell you how much she loved you.

So when you found yourself on the rooftop of Wayne Manor on Valentine’s Night, with the city lights glittering below, you knew this was her way of celebrating.

She held out a hand, gaze steady. An invitation.

No music played, but when you took her hand, she led you into a slow, silent dance. The night air was cool, but Cass was warm, her touch firm but careful. Her fingers rested against your back, guiding you in a rhythm only she knew.

You didn’t need a grand speech or a bouquet of roses. This was love, raw and real. The way she held you like you were precious. The way she breathed in sync with you. The way she tilted her head, brushing her forehead against yours in a silent confession.

She didn’t need to say I love you.

You could feel it in the way she held you close.

Golden Hour

Duke had insisted he didn’t care about Valentine’s Day.

Which was why you found it hilarious when he showed up at your door with a box of your favorite snacks and a guilty expression.

“Look, I know I said it was dumb, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda wanted to spend today with you.��

You grinned, stepping aside to let him in. “Duke Thomas, are you actually a romantic at heart?”

“Shut up,” he groaned, flopping onto your couch. “Do you wanna watch movies or what?”

You laughed but sat beside him, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bag he brought. He gasped, deeply betrayed.

“You did not just—”

You shoved another handful into your mouth. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, it’s on.”

Cue a full-blown popcorn war, both of you laughing until your stomachs hurt. Somewhere in the middle of it, Duke slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“You know,” he murmured, quieter now, “I think I just like having an excuse to hang out with you.”

Your heart skipped. “You don’t need an excuse.”

He squeezed your shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I’m never leaving.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[shawtuzi]

Heyy so I miss basketball!player x chubby!reader😚

ykw me too girl let’s get into it

cw include: unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl, mating press, creampie, multiple orgasms, some fluff, not proofread

“nope.”

“but babyyy—”

“i said no eren, you need to save all your stamina for tomorrow,” your fingers ran softly through his hair as you spoke, hoping that it would make him a little tired. his head was resting on your tummy, and although almost half of his body was hanging off the bed he couldn’t have been more content—well lemme not say that bc there is something that could lift his spirits a little more.

eren nuzzled his face into the pudge of your stomach, his thick brows furrowing is sadness. ugh you smelled so yummy, like peaches and honey. he could’ve just ate you up right there. he lifted his head and you couldn’t help but laugh at the pout on his face. “but babyyy you know we’ll win, we’ve been on a crazy winning streak this season thanks to yours truly.”

“so has the other team you’re going up against tomorrow. you need to be focused, plus i don’t wanna hear any shit from coach or your teammates if the game doesn’t turn out in our favor,” it was your turn to pout now because you’ve definitely received some nasty looks and remarks in the past from said individuals.

eren scoffed and shook his head, “well what those dickheads don’t know is the only reason i play so well is because you’re there to watch me. the other times we lost guess who didn’t happen to be in the crowd?” eren cocked his head, his lips lifting into a smirk.

“me?”

“yes, you. those three games we lost you just so happened to not be there, but anytime you’re there we always win. you’re our good luck charm—my good luck charm.” you couldn’t help but smile and hide your face in his pillow. he always had you internally blushing, your cheeks feeling as though someone had placed coals on them.

you felt eren shift and suddenly he was towering over you, the fallen strands from his disheveled bun tickling your face. “lemme at least get a taste, don’t think i forgot you just got waxed the other day,” he nudged his nose against yours, his lips just millimeters away from yours.

mannnn. fuck it.

“actually i have a better idea, renny.”

sometime later . . .

‘this is so much fucking better’ eren thought to himself as he laid a harsh smack to your ass, his teeth clamping onto his bottom lip as he watched it ripple. he couldn’t help but do it again. and again. and again.

“faster, baby, c’mon i know you can do better than that,” eren grabbed the fat of your ass and helped you fuck back into him faster. a pretty, translucent sheen of your essence coated his dick so nicely it had his mouth watering. reverse cowgirl was eren’s second favorite position—i think we can all assume what the first one is. backshots.

your pussy looked so pretty from this angle, and if he felt like it he could lift you with ease and sit you right on his tongue. eren bench pressed and did leg lifts with weights almost three times your size, so maneuvering you into any position he wanted was nothing but a thing.

“i-i’m trying but—”

“don’t tell me you’re already fucked out,” and when you looked at him over your shoulder his suspicions were correct. he couldn’t help but laugh at the tears in your eyes and the pout on your lips. “looks like you needed this more than me hm? c’mere let me help you out,” you were more than happy to oblige and changed your position so your back was against eren’s chest.

the new angle had you seeing stars, his fat tip now pressing snuggly against that spongy spot that had your toes curling. he rested his chin on your shoulder, nudging your jaw with his nose, “you comfortable pretty girl?”

you weakly nodded, your breath hitching when his hand wrapped around your throat. eren planted his feet into the bed and began a steady rhythm. his free hand snaked between your thick thighs, his rough digits now rubbing tight, little circles on your clit.

“t-too deep,” you squealed, weakly wrapping your hand around his wrist. even though eren has fucked you in every position humanly possible, you’ll still never quite get over just how big he really is. that shit had a curve in it too so he was real in your guts. “no it ain’t, you can take it mama,” his jaw clenched when he felt your nails dig into his wrists—lucky for you he loved the pain!

eren pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear, “greedy fuckin’ pussy.” his words had you whining in embarrassment because he was right :(( each time he pushed back in a very loud, obnoxious squelch followed. huh, looks like you really did need this. so bad that you were actually begging eren to finish inside you.

eren hated when you begged for it like that. it brought out a side of him that was very hard to keep under control—especially when you asked oh so sweetly for it. with a huff eren pulled out, very much to your dismay.

“if you’re gonna let me nut in her m’gonna do it the right way,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before swiftly lifting you off him. before you knew it your ears were to your shoulders and eren’s forehead was pressed against yours.

“mm, we should do whatever that position was again sometime . . . all i could smell n’ feel was you, it was nice. hey, look at me,” his nose nudged against yours lovingly, his smile mirroring your own. “ugh you randomly get so sappy outta nowhere. its too much,” your giggle was turned into a moan when you felt his tip prod at your dripping entrance.

your fingers tugged at the elastic in his hair until a curtain of eren’s hair fell around you both. “i love you.” eren didn’t even process the words that left his mouth until he heard you gasp. well . . . it’s too late now!

“i’m not gonna take it back cuz i mean it,” and with that eren pushed inside you in one, swift thrust. you felt like the air had been knocked out of lungs as you tried to adjust to his size. his hips circled and that’s what had your thighs shaking, your pussy convulsing around him as your orgasm hit you in harsh waves.

“i lo-ve you t-too ren,” a tear slipped from your eye and eren kissed it away tenderly. eren pulled out until only the tip was in before slamming back inside, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. “shittt say it again baby, say it one more time,” eren couldn’t help the symphony of moans that flew past his lips, he was entirely too far gone.

you whimpered out ‘i love you’ again and again until you physically couldn’t speak. each time you said it eren went harder, deeper.

“m’gonna win that game tomorrow, n’ every other game after that. then i’m goin’ pro—shit, and i’m gonna buy us a big ass house and knock you up till we got a little league of our own. don’t that sound good mama?” eren panted out, his hand moving from the back of your knee to push on the lower part of your tummy.

all you could do was chant out yes! yes! yes! because yes, you really did what that! you wanted to see eren go pro and live his dream, and you couldn’t be happier or hornier that you were apart of that dream.

“you’re gonna make me cum mama, gonna make me nut all in this pretty pussy. you want that baby? want me to fill this pussy up hm?”

“please!” your hands slapped against eren’s shoulders as your second orgasm of the night hit you like a semi. eren roughly fucked you through your orgasm, his abs clenching as he felt his own approaching quickly. your eyes rolled back when you felt the first spurt of his cum hit your womb, shortly after that all you felt was warmth. “jesus fuckin’ christ,” eren’s body shook as he chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in his post orgasm daze.

you whined when you felt him begin to pull out, a mixture of his and your cum dribbled out of you in thick glob. “what’re you doin’,” you sniffled, your pussy clenching around nothing as eren stared at it with nothing but hunger in his eyes. “i still want a taste. you gonna let me get my fill?” his hands massaged your inner thighs, his thumbs squishing your lower lips together just to see you squirm.

“go ahead renny *sniffle* you deserve it,” and he did, he really did. he was truly the best boyfriend anyone could’ve asked for. he made you feel so beautiful—so loved. he loved you, and you loved him just as much.

eren leant down to give your lips three kisses, muttering ‘i love you’ before kissing his way down your body. he kissed over every scar, stretch mark, every imperfect perfection that he helped you loved with so much tenderness it could’ve brought tears to your eyes.

his emerald eyes flicked to yours—

“i’m so happy that horse faced idiot fumbled you.”

[v3n1ce-bxtch]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Off to the Races Valentines Day Special ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Older!Rafe x Reader ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, impact play, use of “daddy”,cussing, breeding kink, cum swallowing, Rafe’s kinda rough, size kink, MDNI!!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n: Happy Valentines Day loves!💋💗more fics coming soon!!

Rafe had never been one for grand gestures, but tonight was different. He’d surprised you with a pink Supra, sparkling jewelry that caught the light with every movement, and a dinner he had somehow managed to cook himself—though he would never admit how much of it was made by the chef with a little personal flair. You couldn’t help but laugh as he stood at the stove, holding a pair of tongs with a look of intense concentration. “You’re gonna love this, Darlin’,” he’d said with a smile, setting the table with care.

As the evening settled into its warmth, you found yourselves curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the fireplace dancing around you both. Your head rested on his shoulder as he lazily stroked your hair, his breath warm against your cheek.

“You know,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his jawline, “I think you might just be the best gift I could’ve gotten tonight.” Your voice was playful, teasing. “Although, I’m curious to see what you’ve got planned for later.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a slow smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll see soon enough, Darlin’. You’ve been good tonight. Now, you just relax.” His hand traced your arm, sending shivers down your spine. His thumb brushed lightly across your lips before he kissed you again, soft and lingering.

You couldn’t resist being playful, your voice hushed but still full of excitement. “What if I don’t want to relax?” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. “What if I want you… right now?”

Rafe’s grip tightened around you as he smirked. “If that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice dropping low with heat. “I’ve got no problem making sure you get exactly what you need.”

With that, he swept you off the couch, lifting you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small laugh, kissing him all over his face, trailing little kisses down his neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “You spoil me, Rafe,” you whispered with a smile, as he carried you effortlessly to his room.

He gave you a look that was both tender and full of desire. “It’s not spoiling you if you deserve it, Darlin’.” He set you down on the bed gently, his hands brushing over your body as his lips followed every inch of your skin. “Now, let’s see just how much I can spoil you tonight.”

Rafe pulled your pink mini skirt down before toying with your panties . He whistled,”Damn, my favorite. I’m gonna have fun ruining these, I know you’re so wet for me right now.” He pushed them to the side.

“Rafey! Don’t mess them up!” You giggled.

He smirked smugly and stuck two fingers in you,”Hm, well last time I checked I bought them. So I can do whatever the fuck I want, Darlin’.” He explored your cunt before finding your sweet spot.

“Right there, Rafey!” You squirmed and squeezed around his fingers.

”Are you sure, Darlin’?” He sped up his pace and started sucking your clit.

You gasped and moaned, closing your eyes,”Oh fuck! Yes!” You put your hands on his head,”Keep going.” You gasped breathlessly. He chuckled and did in fact keep going until you came.

After a minute or so he pulled back, taking his fingers out and putting them in your mouth,”Fuckin’ taste yourself baby, this is all me.”

You took his fingers out of your mouth, one of your hands on his wrist and your other palming his hard cock,”You need a lil’ help with that, Rafey?” You giggled, teasing him.

He groaned and put his head back,”Fuck, yeah I do.” He took his belt of and wrapped them around your wrists,”You wanna help me?”

You nodded eagerly,”Mhm!”

He chuckled,”Needy needy girl.” He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and took his dress pants and boxers off. He spat in his hand and pumped his cock a few times before lining it up. He winced as he slowly pushed his tip in.

You felt an uncomfortable stretch and you whimpered,”Rafey.” You whined.

He kissed your forehead while he started a steady movement,”You okay, Darlin’?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to contain a squeal.

He gently grabbed your jaw,”Come on baby, I wanna hear you.” You nodded again and let out a high pitched squeal. He smiled,”There’s my Darlin’, keep making those noises f’me baby.” He put your hands around his waist and moved quicker, making the bed creak loudly.

You clutched onto the pillow as Rafe ruthlessly pounded into you,”Fuck! Rafey it’s too much! Daddy!” You yelped, squeezing your eyes closed.

He grunted,”You want me to stop, Darlin’?”

“No daddy!” You responded.

He groaned,”Perfect.” He drawled,”I don’t I was able too, this tight cunt keeps sucking me back in.” He leaned down to kiss youdeeply then pulled back,”You’re so beautiful, y/n.” He smiled

down at you. You couldn’t respond, so you smiled back at him. All of a sudden, he pulled out and turned you over on your stomach then hovered over you.

You whimpered,”Rafeee, why’d you stop? I was almost there!”

He sighed,”Stop complainin’, Darlin’. I’m not done yet.” He lined himself up again and roughly shoved himself in you,”See?” He grunted,”I’m not done.” He delivered a rough smack on your ass before grabbing it, his hard callouses on his palms digging into your ass.

You squealed,”Daddy!” You squeezed your eyes shut.

He smirked,”Keep calling’ me that baby.” He slapped your ass again while fucking your your cunt, making your shake under his touch.

You moaned,”Daddyyy.”

“That’s a good girl.” He groaned,”You want my cum, Darlin’? You want me to fill you up?” He grabbed your face, making you stretch your neck to face him. You whimpered. He shook his head,”I need a fuckin’ answer.” He said a tad bit more aggressive.

You nodded, gasping,”Y-yes I do!”

“Say it like you mean it.” He slammed into you roughly before returning back to his original pace.

“I do! I really do!” You squirmed, your nails digging into the leather of Rafe’s belt.

He slapped your ass a few times and stretched the waist band of your panties, making it snap off,”C’mon, say the exact words, Darlin’.”

You groaned,”Fuck! I want your cum, daddy! I want you to fill me up, daddy!” You screamed.

He chuckled,”There’s my girl.” He lowered himself on you, trapping you in your position.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered barely above a whisper, but Rafe somehow heard you.

“Cum f’me baby, Daddy just needs a few minutes.” He slowed his pace down slightly.

You felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm forming, your mouth opened and you let out a moan,”Fuck!”

He kissed your neck softly,”Keep squeezin’ my cock. I’m almost there.” After a few minutes, Rafe slowed down, his hips bucking into you. Soon after, you felt warm ribbons of cum in your sore cunt. You both played there in silence, breathing heavily. He pulled out of you and rolled you back over on your back before plopping right next to you, evidently still hard.

You smiled at him,”That was good.” Your hands slowly trailed down to his cock,”You still wanna go?” You swirled your thumb over the tip and stroked his cock slowly.

He put his hand over yours, guiding your motions,”Mhm.” He rolled his eyes back and he moved your hands faster,”Fuck.”

You moved his hand out of the way and positioned your mouth over his cock, licking the tip before taking some of him in your mouth. His hips bucked and he gently put his hand on your head pushing you down,”Damn, your mouth feels s’ good around me.” You giggled around his length, still stroking the base. He pushed your head down more,”Tap my thigh if it’s too much.” You nodded, looking at him with your glossy eyes. You sucked gently, which made him shudder,”Fuck! I’m bouta cum, Darlin’.” His hips met your mouth and his hands pushed your head farther down, then you felt Rafe’s hot cum in the back of your throat. You pulled your head back, gasping and swallowing what he gave you.

He motioned for you to come lay your head on his chest,”Did I hurt you baby?”

You shook your head, smiling,”Nope. I’m good.” You drew circles, hearts and stars on his chest with your pointer finger.

“Good. You want me to start the bath? I bought you those bath salts you wanted.”

You sat up and gasped, peppering kisses on his his face,”Thank you, Rafey!”

He smiled and picked you up off the bed,”Anything for you, Darlin’. Any day.”

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @vogueprincess @greengoblinswifey @whoreislands

[cheeseatlantic]

yabadabadoooooo

!serialkillerghost x !ballerinareader

cws: graphic depictions of violence, severed body parts, protective/obsessive behaviour, dark themes (stalking, revenge) and mentions of blood and injury

Soft Hands, Sharp Teeth

The apartment was quiet when you stepped inside, the only sound your soft, unsteady breathing. The day had been long, exhausting in a way you couldn’t quite name, but it wasn’t the dancing that had left you drained—it was him.

Your dance partner.

His hands had been too much, too firm, fingers brushing where they shouldn’t. A lingering touch on your waist, an unwelcome slide of his palm against your ribs. You hadn’t said anything, too stunned, too unsure if you were overreacting. But the sick feeling in your stomach told you otherwise.

You sniffled, toeing off your ballet flats, and it was then that you noticed him.

Simon sat on the couch, one arm draped over the back, his large frame relaxed in the dim glow of the lamp. His mask was off, but the black compression shirt stretched over his broad chest, his military dog tags resting against the fabric. He was watching you, eyes sharp, assessing.

“Rough day, birdie?” His voice was low, smooth, always laced with that warmth he reserved just for you.

Your lip wobbled.

That was all it took.

He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the space between you, his hands coming up to cup your face. His palms were rough, calloused, but his touch was so gentle. Like he thought you might break.

“Tell me.”

Your fingers curled into his sleeves, seeking comfort. “It’s stupid,” you mumbled.

His brows drew together. “Not if it upset you.”

You swallowed, looking down. “My dance partner… I didn’t like how he touched me.”

Silence.

It stretched long enough that you finally glanced up at him, only to find his expression completely blank. No anger, no frustration—just nothing.

“Where?” His voice was too calm.

You hesitated, then lifted a hand, touching your waist. “Here. And… here.” You traced a spot over your ribs. “I don’t think he meant anything by it, but—”

“You don’t have to defend him.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. “You didn’t like it. That’s enough.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding. Simon had always made you feel safe, even if you didn’t fully understand why. He was a soldier, a protector—your protector.

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “You’re tired,” he murmured. “Go to bed, yeah?”

“But—”

“Shh.” His lips quirked, something almost amused in his expression. “That’s an order, little ballerina.”

You huffed but let him lead you to bed, tucking you beneath the soft covers. He sat beside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, waiting until your breathing evened out.

You didn’t hear him leave.

SIMON’S POV

It wasn’t hard to find the bastard.

He was a predictable little shit—smug, unassuming, the type of man who thought he was untouchable because no one had ever given him a reason to believe otherwise. Simon followed him from the studio, let him drink with his mates at the bar, let him laugh like he hadn’t laid hands on her.

Then he cornered him in the alley behind the building.

The man barely had time to react before Simon shoved him up against the damp brick, gloved fingers pressing against his windpipe just enough to scare. Not enough to kill.

Yet.

“You like putting your hands where they don’t belong?” His voice was smooth, almost amused.

The man choked, grasping at Simon’s wrist. “W-what the fuck—”

Simon didn’t let him finish. He slammed his head back against the wall with a satisfying crack and watched as the fight drained out of him.

“You don’t touch her.” His voice dropped lower, dangerous. “Not her waist. Not her ribs. Not her fucking shadow. You understand?”

The man whimpered, nodding weakly.

Simon smiled. “Good.”

Then he pulled the knife.

The screams didn’t last long.

A soft knock at your door roused you from sleep. You stretched, blinking blearily as you padded across the apartment. Outside, resting on the doorstep, was a pristine white box, wrapped in a delicate pink ribbon.

Your lips curled into a sleepy smile. Simon always gave you little gifts—things he thought you’d like, trinkets and sweets, small tokens of affection. You carried the box inside, settling at the table as you untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled in layers of delicate white tissue paper, were two severed hands.

Familiar hands.

Hands that forced themselves onto you.

Your stomach twisted, a sharp inhale catching in your throat, but before you could process it, a note slipped free from the tissue, fluttering onto the table.

Won’t be touching you again, birdie.

Your heartbeat pounded against your ribs.

You should have screamed. You should have been horrified.

Instead, warmth crept up your neck, something dark curling low in your belly. Because deep down, beneath all the innocence, all the softness—

You knew exactly who had left you this gift.

And you knew he was only protecting what was his.

[crossfandomskylines]

Anywhere But Here

Summary: A Valentine's Day singles event was the last place you wanted to be until an unexpected conversation with Bradley Bradshaw turned the night into something else entirely. What started as shared sarcasm and an easy connection quickly became something deeper. And by the time the night was over you realized maybe fate had other plans after all.

Warnings: 18+. Suggestive Content (some nudity, heavy making out, implied smut but none directly), Alcohol Consumption, Mild Language.

Word Count: 4,389

Author's Note: Still struggling with a little bit of writer's block because of my headspace but managed to write this over the past few days and I think it turned out okay. This is my first time writing for Bradley so I'd love any feedback you guys have! I'm also still a little rough around the edges when it comes to writing smut so I'm sorry if that part isn't good. Hope you enjoy xx

You should have known better than to let your friends talk you into this. The dim lighting, the too loud music, the room full of strangers who all seemed to have the same agenda. It was everything you hated about Valentine’s Day wrapped into one overcrowded venue. 

Somewhere across the room your friends were probably watching and feeling satisfied that they’d successfully dragged you out, but they weren’t the ones stuck making small talk with men who either wanted a rebound, a hookup, or a therapist.

You sighed as you swirled the cheap cocktail in your glass as the third guy of the night launched into a monologue about his “complicated” relationship with his ex.

“Sounds rough,” you said nodding absently.

“Right? And she just doesn’t get that I need space,” he continued, leaning in like you were supposed to be impressed by his emotional unavailability.

You were about to excuse yourself and find your friends when suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the conversation.

"Is this seat taken?" Bradley Bradshaw’s voice was easy, casual, like you hadn’t just been trapped in a one-sided conversation about someone’s divorce for the last fifteen minutes. You blinked in surprise, looking up to find Bradley standing beside you. You couldn’t help the relief that flooded through you at his arrival, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Bradley,” you said with a chuckle, knowing full well he’d been watching from the corner of the room. 

You’d always known of Bradley. He was part of the same circle of friends though you’d never really talked outside of the occasional greeting or passing comment at group events. He was always nice enough, just not someone you ever felt a need to connect with more deeply.

He raised an eyebrow at the guy you were talking to, still unaware of his impending rescue. “Mind if I steal her for a minute?” Bradley asked, looking at you with an easy grin.

The guy hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between you and Bradley before he finally nodded, mumbling something about catching up with some people. Bradley’s lips twitched in amusement as he pulled the barstool out and took a seat next to you, making it clear he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

As the guy shuffled away, Bradley glanced at you and whispered, “I’ve got to hand it to you, you were handling that a lot better than I would have. I’d have run for the hills by now.” His grin was teasing, but there was a warmth in his eyes, an unspoken understanding.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “It wasn’t that bad, I just didn’t know how to get out of the conversation without being rude.”

Bradley leaned back, getting comfortable. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I was nearby. My friends usually do a pretty bad job of saving me from stuff like that. But if it helps, I’m pretty good at the rescue mission.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a smirk. “I’m sure you are. But I’m guessing Jake and Mickey had something to do with this little rescue operation?”

Bradley chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Guilty as charged. They’ve been trying to convince me to get out here all night. Apparently, they think I’m a really good wingman.” He grinned, clearly not taking the comment too seriously. “But between you and me, I’m just here for the free drinks.”

“Free drinks? I think I missed that memo?”

Bradley grinned as he motioned towards where Jake was across the room. “His price for dragging me out tonight was picking up my tab.”

Bradley leaned against the bar, nodding toward your empty glass. “Speaking of…need a refill?”

You hesitated, but he shrugged, adding, “Promise I won’t try to trauma-dump on you.”

That earned him a small smirk. “Well, in that case… sure.”

He flagged down the bartender, ordering for you without making a big deal of it. As you waited, you glanced around the room at the couples awkwardly chatting, the guys clearly scanning for their next target, the women trying to seem interested but mostly looking bored.

“This might be the worst Valentine’s Day event in existence,” you muttered.

Bradley let out a low chuckle. “That bad, huh?”

You turned back to him, arching a brow. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit half these people don’t even want to be here.”

He shrugged, smirking. “That includes us, doesn’t it?”

You laughed. “Fair point.”

The bartender slid your drink across the bar, and you murmured a thanks before turning back to Bradley. Somehow, standing next to him felt…easy.

“So, what were you doing before you got roped into this disaster?” he asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

You shrugged. “Had plans to drink wine, eat chocolate, and watch literally anything that wasn’t romance related. But my friends staged an intervention.”

Bradley smirked. “Tragic. What were you gonna watch?”

“Probably a concert film. You know, something that really captures the Valentine’s Day spirit.”

His grin widened. “Concert film, huh? What band?”

You lit up, immediately launching into a mini rant about your favorite band. You talked about their best albums, the time you saw them live, how their early work was underrated but their newer stuff still held up.

And Bradley listened. Not in the way people do when they’re just waiting for their turn to talk, but in a way that made it clear he was actually interested. He nodded along, grinning at your enthusiasm, occasionally asking a question or making a comment that proved he was keeping up.

At some point the noise of the bar faded into the background. The awkwardness of the event, the forced conversations, the reason you even came here in the first place…it all disappeared. It was just you and Bradley talking like this was the most natural thing in the world.

And you kind of liked it.

The DJ must have had a cruel sense of humor because without warning the music shifted from upbeat pop to something softer. Something that clearly signaled it was time for couples to pair off.

Around the room, people hesitated before awkwardly stepping closer to their dates or scanning for someone to dance with. You weren’t planning on participating until you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. It was him. The guy Bradley had saved you from earlier. He was lingering near the bar, glancing in your direction like he was debating coming over for round two.

You groaned under your breath. Bradley must have followed your gaze because he leaned in slightly, voice low and amused. “Uh oh. I think your ex therapy patient wants a second session.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t even joke.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting back a laugh. Then after a beat he nudged you with his elbow. “We could always pretend to be together. Save you from another deep dive into his complicated emotions.”

You arched a brow. “Oh, we could, huh?”

Bradley shrugged. “I mean I’d hate to see you suffer.”

You rolled your eyes but honestly? The idea didn’t sound half bad. Better than standing here pretending not to notice your former conversation partner lurking nearby.

“…Fine,” you sighed.

His grin was instant like he’d known you’d agree. Without another word he reached for your hand, his fingers warm as they laced easily through yours. Before you could process that he was already tugging you toward the dance floor.

“Smooth,” you muttered as you followed.

He glanced back smirking. “I have my moments.”

You stopped near the edge of the dance floor where other couples had already started swaying to the music. Bradley turned to face you, his expression a mix of amusement and something softer, unreadable.

“Alright,” he said, his voice teasing but gentle as he placed one hand at your waist. “Try not to fall in love with me.”

You snorted. “I’ll do my best.”

Dancing with Bradley was… easy. You had expected it to be awkward and stiff like the kind of slow dances you endured at high school prom. But he moved with an effortless confidence, his hand steady at your waist, his grip firm but not overbearing.

“So,” he said, his voice warm and low over the music, “how am I doing so far? Best fake Valentine’s date you’ve ever had?”

You smirked. “I don’t know. The bar’s pretty low. But I’ll give you points for effort.”

Bradley let out a soft chuckle, his thumb absently tracing small, slow circles where it rested against your waist. You weren’t sure if he even realized he was doing it, but you noticed. And suddenly, the room felt just a little warmer.

The first song came to an end, and for a second, you thought about stepping back, about making some teasing remark and putting space between you. But before you could, the opening chords of a new song filled the air. A song from your favorite band. Your favorite song.

Your eyes widened. “No way.”

Bradley’s mouth quirked into a knowing grin. “What are the odds?”

You looked up at him, suspicious. “You didn’t request this, did you?”

He shook his head, smirking. “Nope. But now that it’s playing, it’d be wrong not to keep dancing.”

Before you could argue—not that you really wanted to—he pulled you back in.

And this time, you let yourself sink into it.

Somewhere between the first verse and the chorus, the space between you disappeared. His hands settled more firmly at your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of your shirt. Without really thinking about it, your arms slid up, looping around his neck.

You felt him exhale, a quiet little laugh against your temple. “See? You’re having fun.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Don’t let it go to your head, Rooster.”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly. “Too late.”

The warmth of him, the way his chest brushed yours with every slow step, the way his voice curled around your name when he murmured it just loud enough for you to hear. It all felt so natural and easy, like you’d been dancing with him forever instead of just minutes.

And when he made a dry teasing comment about one of the couples beside you, something about their awkward middle school dance stance you tipped your head back and laughed.

The sound must have done something to him because his hold on you tightened, just slightly. Just enough that you felt it. Just enough that you didn’t want to let go.

The song drifted into its final chords, but neither of you stepped away immediately. You were still close. Closer than you probably should have been considering this whole thing had started as an excuse to avoid bad small talk.

Bradley was looking at you, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he knew you weren’t in a hurry to move either. But then the DJ switched back to something obnoxiously upbeat, and the spell broke.

Bradley exhaled, glancing around before leaning down slightly, speaking just loud enough for you to hear. “Alright. You wanna get out of here?”

You arched a brow, pretending to consider it. “Bradley Bradshaw, are you trying to take me home?”

His smirk widened. “Would it work?”

You scoffed, even as heat curled in your stomach. “Not a chance.”

He chuckled. “Good to know.” Then, with an easy shrug, he added, “I was thinking we could go do something actually fun.”

You tilted your head. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t know yet. But I promise it’ll be better than this disaster.” He gestured around the bar where people were still fumbling their way through awkward conversations and stilted dances.

You eyed him, considering. “You do realize this is how horror movies start, right? Some girl follows a charming guy into the night, never to be seen again.”

Bradley placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “You wound me.”

You bit back a grin. “Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You hungry?”

You blinked. “…Are you serious?”

Bradley grinned. “Why not? We ditch this place, get some food, and actually enjoy the rest of the night.”

You should have said no. You should have come up with an excuse, played it safe, stuck to your original plan of going home alone.

But instead, you found yourself saying, “Alright, Bradshaw. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

His grin turned downright smug. “Knew you couldn’t resist.”

You rolled your eyes, but you let him take your hand anyway, following him toward the exit. Leaving behind the bad dates, the awkward glances, and the Valentine’s Day you thought you were going to have, and stepping into the one you never saw coming.

The bar door swung shut behind you, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the stuffy heat inside. You hadn’t realized how loud it was until now. It was so much easier to breathe out here.

Bradley, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, shot you a look. “Alright, I’m thinking pizza. And not some fancy, sit down place. I mean real pizza.”

You smirked. “Define real pizza.”

His eyes glinted. “Late night counter service, greasy but perfect pizza.”

“…Go on.”

“There’s a spot a few blocks from here. Open late, no frills, just damn good food.”

You pretended to think about it, though your stomach had already made the decision for you. “Fine. But if it sucks, I’m never trusting you again.”

Bradley laughed, leading the way down the sidewalk. “That’s a lot of pressure, sweetheart.”

When you arrived after a short walk from the bar, the place was exactly as he’d described. A hole in the wall joint with neon signs buzzing faintly in the window and the unmistakable scent of fresh pizza wafting out the door.

Bradley let you step inside first, the warmth from the ovens immediately washing over you. The glass display case was lined with massive slices ready to grab and go.

“Alright,” he said scanning the selection. “You a toppings person, or are we keeping it classic?”

“Pepperoni,” you answered without hesitation.

His smile was approving. “Good choice.” He turned to the guy behind the counter. “Two slices of pepperoni, please.”

You arched a brow. “Two? What if I wanted two slices?”

Bradley gave you a look. “Trust me. You won’t want the second when you see the size of these.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A few minutes later, you were standing outside, each holding a massive, perfectly greasy slice, the warmth seeping into your fingers as you took your first bite.

You groaned. “Okay. Fine. You were right. This is really good pizza.”

Bradley grinned, chewing his own bite. “Told you.”

The street was quiet, save for the occasional car rolling by and the faint hum of city life in the distance. For a moment, you just stood there, eating in comfortable silence.

Then, Bradley wiped his fingers on a napkin and glanced over at you. “So.”

You swallowed your bite, eyeing him warily. “So.”

His smirk was lazy, unreadable. “Wanna head back to my place?”

You nearly choked. “Wow. Straight to the point, huh?”

Bradley laughed. “Not like that.” He gestured to the nearly empty street. “It’s still early. I figured we could keep hanging out…unless you’re dying to go home.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. It wasn’t that late, and you weren’t tired. And if you were being honest with yourself you didn’t really want to say goodnight yet.

“…Alright, Bradshaw,” you said, giving him a knowing look. And just like that, you found yourself following him into the night.

When you reached the curb, he gestured toward an old but well kept Bronco parked under the glow of a streetlamp. It suited him. It was rugged, classic, and also a little effortlessly cool.

You expected him to climb in first, but instead he reached for the passenger door, pulling it open.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Seriously?”

Bradley just shrugged, stepping back to give you space. “What? You think I don’t have manners?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “I don’t know. I just didn’t peg you as the door-opening type.”

His smirk was subtle but genuine. “Guess I like keeping you on your toes.”

Still eyeing him, you slid into the seat. The door shut with a solid thunk, and a moment later Bradley was rounding the hood and climbing in behind the wheel.

Bradley’s place was exactly what you would’ve expected. Laid back, a little old school, but effortlessly him. Warm lighting, a well-loved couch, a few framed photos on the walls, and a record player in the corner. It felt lived in, comfortable.

“You want a beer?” he asked as he tossed his keys onto the counter.

You nodded, stepping further inside. “Yeah, sure.”

Bradley grabbed two from the fridge, popping the caps off with practiced ease before handing one to you. You took a sip as he led you toward the couch, where he sank down with an easy sprawl.

You hesitated for half a second before sitting next to him, tucking your legs underneath you. The conversation picked up right where it had left off with music, movies, dumb things you’d both done as kids.

At some point you kicked off your shoes and stretched your legs out, your sock clad feet nudging his thigh. Bradley didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he absentmindedly rested a hand on your shin as he talked, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your jeans.

You should’ve noticed it earlier. That shift, that subtle change in the air. Because somewhere between the teasing and the laughter, something had settled in the space between you. Something quieter. Heavier. Bradley’s fingers stilled against your leg, his gaze flicking to yours.

You swallowed. “What?”

He shook his head, his voice softer now. “Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing, and you both knew it. The air crackled, and before you could second guess it, you were shifting closer. Bradley’s hand slid up, palm skimming your knee before settling at your waist. His fingers curled there, warm and steady.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly, he was right there. His breath fanned across your lips, his eyes locked onto yours, searching.

And then he kissed you. It was slow at first, just the soft press of his lips against yours, like he was testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away and you kissed him back,he deepened it, his hand tightening at your waist as he pulled you closer.

Your fingers found the back of his neck, threading into his hair, and he groaned low in his throat, a sound that sent heat curling through your stomach. By the time you finally broke apart, you were breathless.

Bradley rested his forehead against yours, his lips quirking. “So… I’m guessing you don’t regret leaving that singles event?”

You laughed, still catching your breath. “Not even a little bit.”

Bradley’s hands were still resting at your waist, warm and steady, as you hovered just inches from him. The air between you felt charged, humming with something unspoken but undeniable. You moved first, shifting onto your knees before slowly swinging a leg over his lap, settling yourself against him. Bradley inhaled sharply, his hands tightening their hold on you like he was still processing what was happening, like he needed a second to let himself feel you there.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, rough around the edges, his hands twitching slightly against your hips.

You nodded, fingers trailing up the back of his neck as you leaned in. “Yeah.”

That was all he needed.

His mouth met yours again, deeper this time, the hesitancy from before fading as he pulled you closer, molding you against him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he let out a quiet groan that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hands, large and warm, traced slow circles at your waist before slipping under your shirt. His palms pressed against your bare skin, mapping their way up your sides, his touch reverent like he was savoring every inch of you.

He paused, giving you a chance to stop him, but you weren’t going anywhere. You lifted your arms, silently telling him to keep going, and Bradley took his time easing your shirt up and over your head, his eyes flickering over your newly exposed skin. His fingers followed the path of his gaze, tracing along your ribs, your back, your shoulders.

“Damn,” he murmured, almost to himself, before leaning in to kiss you again, slower this time, deeper, his lips moving with purpose as his hands roamed over you.

You shifted in his lap, pressing closer, and that was when something changed. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your skin like he suddenly couldn’t get enough. His kisses turned hungrier, his breath heavier as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss until all you could do was melt into him.

You gasped as his mouth trailed along your jaw, then down the column of your throat, his lips and tongue leaving a heated path in their wake. His hands moved again, exploring more boldly now, and you arched into him, letting yourself feel everything. His touch, his warmth, the way he was unraveling right along with you.

Your fingers moved with growing urgency, skimming over Bradley’s shoulders as you tried to push off that damn ugly printed shirt. But the fabric bunched awkwardly at his arms, refusing to cooperate. Frustrated, you tugged harder, reaching for the undershirt beneath it too, wanting them both gone except now you were tangled in two layers of fabric, and nothing was coming off the way you wanted.

Bradley chuckled against your skin, his breath warm where his lips had been trailing along your collarbone. 

“Impatient, huh?” His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper laced in it too, something thick with amusement and want.

You huffed, still struggling. “If you’d stop wearing so many damn layers—”

He cut you off with another quiet laugh before leaning back slightly. “Here,” he murmured, his hands covering yours, steadying them. “Let me help you out, sweetheart.”

Your stomach flipped at the easy way the endearment rolled off his tongue, but before you could dwell on it, Bradley took control. He shrugged out of the over shirt first, letting it drop to the floor before crossing his arms to pull the undershirt over his head in one smooth motion.

And damn.

Your breath hitched as you finally took him in. His broad shoulders, toned chest, the soft trail of hair leading down his stomach. His dog tags rested against his skin, catching the low light of the room, and for a moment, you just stared.

Bradley smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Better?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Instead, you leaned in, hands splaying against his bare chest as you kissed him again, slow and deep, making sure he felt exactly how much you appreciated the view.

Bradley groaned against your lips, his hands sliding back to your waist before gripping your hips firmly, grounding you against him. The kiss deepened, turning messier, more desperate, and when you rolled your hips just slightly, testing the friction, that was when he lost the last bit of his restraint.

His grip tightened, his breath shuddering against your mouth. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

You smirked. “Maybe I like the heat.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening for half a second before he suddenly moved, flipping you onto your back on the couch in one swift motion.

You barely had time to gasp before he was hovering over you, his body warm and solid against yours. His lips found your neck again, his hands roaming over newly exposed skin, and suddenly, you weren’t the one in control anymore.

And you definitely didn’t mind.

Bradley’s hands moved with deliberate slowness, fingers grazing over your hips before settling at the waistband of your jeans. His eyes flicked up to yours, silently asking for permission. When you nodded, he made quick work of the button and zipper, his fingers brushing over your skin as he tugged them down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze raking over you, dark and unreadable for a moment. Then, a slow smirk tugged at his lips. His voice was rougher now, lower, as he shook his head. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.”

Your breath hitched, warmth spreading through your chest at his words, at the way he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you.

Then, before you could think of a response, he dipped his head, pressing his lips to the base of your throat. His mouth was warm, his kisses slow and reverent as he made his way down, lingering at the delicate skin along your collarbone, then lower, teasing over your ribs before his hands found your thighs.

He shifted, lowering himself onto the floor in front of the couch, his large, rough palms pressing against your inner thighs as he spread them apart. The contrast between his calloused hands and the soft skin of your legs sent a shiver up your spine.

Bradley’s breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as his mouth trailed lower until it hovered just above the place you ached for him most. His grip on your thighs tightened, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles into your skin as if savoring the anticipation.

“Still with me?” he murmured, his voice husky, teasing.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers sinking into his thick curls, tugging just enough to earn a soft groan from him. “Bradley—”

His lips curved against your hipbone. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

A slow, unrelenting press of his mouth, a sound of satisfaction rumbling low in his throat as he pulled you closer, as your world narrowed to nothing but the feeling of him, the steady, torturous rhythm of his hands and lips unraveling you piece by piece.

The last coherent thought you had before everything melted into sensation was that you’d never look at him the same way again.

[joeyfranchise]

conversation hearts

part one: cya l8r!

uo!justin herbert x uo!reader

summary: what happens when your academic rival and sworn enemy starts acting like he’s sweet on you?

word count: 2k.

warnings: none really, some angst and fluff for this part! minors still please dni with my work!

note: part one of a lil something cute for v-day! 💘 i’ll have part two up so soon! also special shoutout to my wifeyyy @joeyburrrow, thank you for always keeping me motivated and being in my corner. ily 😭

the bell on the door chimed softly as you pushed it open and stepped inside the coffee shop. the rich aroma wafted through the air and surrounded you immediately as your favorite barista called out a quick welcome to you. you pulled your tote bag closer to your side as your eyes scanned the shop, and you smiled when you located your friends at a booth near the back. you made your way over to them quickly, immediately chuckling at their conversation.

“so i told her to put a sock in it! like seriously, nobody cares!” your friend alice giggled, her saccharine sweet voice filling your ears as you sat. she was gesturing with her hands as she spoke, and though you didn’t know the subject matter just yet, you laughed along too. next to her, your roommate laura was nursing a very large iced vanilla latte as she propped her head on her hand.

“i agree,” laura stated, glancing around the table. “also guys, this iced latte is the bomb diggity.”

clara, your other close friend and alice’s roommate, laughed at their conversation as well before turning her gaze toward you. “why the long face?” she asked, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

the gesture was sweet and provided comfort, something you appreciated about her. “just pissed about biology again,” you replied, looking around the group. your friends made sympathetic sounds as they looked you over, knowing how hard it’d been for you this semester.

the barista walked over seconds later with a large iced matcha and sat it in front of you, smiling as she placed it on the coaster. “looked like you were having a rough day,” she tutted, patting her hand on your shoulder softly. “this one’s on the house.”

you thanked her profusely before she walked away, and then you turned your attention back to your friends. “was justin pissing you off again?” laura asked, a concerned gaze spread across her features, “you seem so flustered.”

and she was right. you were flustered. he’d been making your life so miserable lately… but the problem was that he wasn’t really doing anything at all. you couldn’t stand him because he always seemed to know the right answer, he was so smart and the only person who seemed to truly rival you academically. it was frustrating, infuriating that a quarterback who’d most likely end up going pro was beating you out of academic achievements, especially when you wanted to make this your career.

you cleared your throat and looked around the group before beginning to tell them about your very strange morning, and your very awkward encounter with justin.

—

the day started innocently enough. laura had an earlier class than you so she was gone when you woke up, but she’d made sure to leave you a note behind with a muffin sitting next to it, and you made sure to thank her while you were telling the story. she nodded in response, engaged with what you had to say. 

you had taken a quick shower and gotten dressed, packed your bag and grabbed your water bottle and headed off to class, all normal parts of your day. all three of the girls focused their attention on you while you spoke, excited for what you had to say next. 

once you got to class, things started to take a turn… but not for the worst. your eyes immediately found justin, already seated at the front of the room, and that had always pissed you off. his much larger frame made it difficult to see sometimes, but you had to pick your battles and today you’d decided this wasn’t one. you took a seat a few rows behind him and grabbed your computer and notebook from your bag before placing them on the table. the lecture was short and you tried to focus on the busy work your professor had assigned, scribbling thoughts into your notebook mindlessly as you scrolled through the documents she’d sent over on your computer. 

it wasn’t hard work by any means, but it seemed to be tripping up a few people in the class based on how many students you’d seen trot over to her desk to ask questions in the last half-hour. after about the fifth or sixth student, she stood from the desk and walked to the podium to address the class, something you knew would end up angering you. 

“since we are having difficulties with the assignments,” she began, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “you’ll do it as partners. you may pick your partner, but i don’t want to see or hear any playing around. and it’s still due tomorrow by 11:59p.m.” 

you sighed heavily. you didn’t know hardly anyone in the class nor did you want to do partner work with anyone. suddenly, you heard a deep voice speak to the professor, asking her “can we work alone?” and you knew it was justin. 

you watched her shake her head no and justin tipped his head back in frustration as he realized he’d have to pick someone. he gathered his things and stood from the desk, towering over the rest of the room as he walked slowly toward your table and sat down next to you. 

you looked him up and down as he took up most of the space in your area, disgust evident on your face. “i figured we could work together,” he said, rubbing his hand over one of his biceps, “at least this way there’ll be no cheating and we can both do an even amount of work.” 

as high-school as it sounded, he was right. to this day people still tried to get you to take over and do most of the work in projects. you shrugged reluctantly before answering him. “fine, we can work together. which sections do you want to do?” 

you watched him scroll through the information on his computer before telling you that he could do sections 1a through 12c if you’d take 1d through 12f. 

“okay,” you softly mumbled. justin’s eyes lingered on you for a few moments before he turned back to the work, and you wondered what he was thinking. 

he didn’t know why you hated him so much. he admired you, he admired your brain. justin didn’t think he was a naturally smart person, he had to study really hard all the time to get the grades he did, and for you it came so naturally. he could kinda tell you saw him as competition, but he never understood why you’d always been so cold to him. 

he watched you as you worked quietly, but he could sense the agitation that was bubbling up inside of you. 

“why are you staring at me?” you finally asked him, your eyes shooting daggers in his direction. “sorry,” he replied, looking back at his computer screen. there were fifteen minutes left of class, something you were both silently thankful for. 

you began writing answers down in your notebook again as you watched him slowly stick his hand into his bag, grabbing something softly before pulling it out. his large hand obstructed your view from what he was holding, but whatever it was sounded a little noisy as the tiny box shook from his movements. 

he placed the small pink box on the table and slid it toward you and you slowly realized that it was a package of your favorite valentines day candy, conversation hearts. you gave him a look as if to ask “for me?”, and he nodded softly. 

you picked the small box up and popped it open, dumping a few of the candies out on to the table. your eyes scanned the silly messages on the tiny hearts before you picked up a pink one and popped it into your mouth. the sweet candy immediately began to melt on your tongue and the corners of your mouth turned up slightly into a smile. 

“how’d you know i liked these?” you asked justin, a pleased look adorning his features. “i overheard you telling laura you loved them the other day in the coffee shop. i just wanted to get you some because… well, just because,” he replied. he was lying, but you didn’t need to know that yet. he got them for you because he had a huge crush on you, and even if that didn’t phase you at all, he still wanted to be your friend. 

you were confused but you still mumbled a quiet “thank you.” 

the last bit of class went by quickly, and once you were dismissed you grabbed up all your stuff and quickly shoved it in your bag, ready to head over to the coffee shop to meet the girls and debrief this whole situation. justin packed his things as well, and before he turned to leave he quickly asked you, “are you free tonight? o-only because we have to make a powerpoint for this as well.” 

he was nervous, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t too. his question had almost made you panic, you thought maybe he was trying to ask you on a date. “yeah, i’ll be free around six, does that work for you?” you replied, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 

“six sounds perfect, do you wanna come to my dorm? my roommate will be out so it’ll be quiet and we can focus,” he added. 

you shook your head yes as you slung your tote over your shoulder. “that sounds good to me! laura will be home but she’ll just be watching reruns of friends while she does her work,” you laughed. 

“i love that show,” justin smiled. you exchanged numbers quickly and justin fired off his dorm number to you in a quick text.

you looked down at the table and saw the box of candy still sitting there, so you picked it up and began to place the pieces you hadn’t eaten yet back in the box. justin was examining them as you did so, and before you could grab the last one he trapped it under his finger before sliding it across the table to you. 

“well, seeya later!” he smirked, lifting his finger off the candy and turning toward the door. you watched him walk away before you looked down at the little green heart that sat on top of the wooden tabletop, its yellow lettering staring back up at you. ‘cya l8r’ was printed boldly on top of the tiny confection. 

— 

all of your friends stared at you with wide eyes before alice squealed, doing a little happy dance in her seat. laura and clara giggled at your confusion. “what’s so funny? i’m upset that i have to do this project with him and you guys are laughing?” you asked, feeling slightly offended. 

“oh my god, don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, y/n!” alice joked before taking a long swig of her iced chai. you took a hefty drink of your matcha before replying. “oblivious to what exactly?” you questioned.

“oh my god, earth to y/n!” clara jested, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “he likes you!” 

you grimaced as the three of them giggled again. “he doesn’t like me. why would he like me?” 

“hello?” laura laughed, “he literally got your favorite candy just because he overheard us talking. and he wanted to be partners with you so you wouldn’t have to do all the work for your assignment. anddddd the little joke with the candy was so cute and corny it’s like it came straight from a rom-com.”

maybe laura was right… maybe they all were. you had never thought of justin as more than anything but an academic obstacle that stood in your way of being the best in the class… but maybe he did like you. 

“it doesn’t matter if he likes me or not,” you finally spoke, trying to keep your tone calm. “i mean, thinking about it now… he is kinda cute…” you mumbled, staring off into the distance. it was no lie that justin was handsome, but something in your head was telling you to snap out of it! 

your friends all eyed you suspiciously before you spoke again. “anyway, it doesn’t matter if he likes me. i’m going over to do a project and that’s it. after that, we go back to being rivals.” 

alice cocked an eyebrow at you before she answered. “it sounds like the rivalry is pretty one-sided.” 

that couldn’t have been any more true. 

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @slimshiesty @fourburrow @wheresdylansoscar @heartforherbert @joe9cool @itsjustjackie55 @emsdevs @a-whiterose

[evermoreness]

moonlight and mending | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: since it's your seventh year at hogwarts, you have to choose a path for a future job, and you chose to be a healer and help madam pomfrey. you just didn't know remus lupin was a regular patient.

obs: i am thinking about turning this into a series, if you want to, please let me know

masterlist

The hospital wing was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the tall windows. You were already up, sleeves rolled to your elbows as you organized a tray of healing potions. You had been helping Madam Pomfrey for a while now, and despite the occasional sleepless night, you loved every second of it.

This was where you belonged.

Every student at Hogwarts had to choose their paths on future jobs by the seventh year. Some would go with the professors to learn a specific path, like aurors or politics and others would go with Hagrid (if they had interest in magical creatures). It was fun.

You would not spend all your days at the hospital wing, since there were other students helping around Madam Pomfrey. But sometimes you would ignore this fact and just stay around for more hours than needed.

You had just finished restocking the dittany when Madam Pomfrey entered, her expression tight with concern.

“Another patient?” you asked, reaching for a clean cloth and a basin of warm water.

She nodded, already moving toward one of the empty beds. “Yes, and he’s in rough shape. A regular of mine, unfortunately.”

Before you could ask what she meant, the doors swung open, and Madam Pomfrey levitated a limp figure onto the bed.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Remus Lupin.

He looked terrible—his school robes were torn, his face pale and slick with sweat. Bruises and scratches covered his arms, and there was a deep gash along his collarbone, seeping blood onto the sheets. His hair was messier than usual, strands sticking to his forehead.

You had seen Remus around, always in the company of his friends, always with a soft smile and warm eyes. He was quieter than the other Marauders, more reserved. But this—this was a side of him you had never seen before.

“Will he be alright?” you asked, stepping closer.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “He always is.”

She glanced at you, her sharp eyes softening slightly. “I’ll leave you to clean his wounds. Be gentle with him.”

You nodded, rolling up your sleeves further as she walked away.

Gently, you dipped the cloth into the warm water and pressed it against a cut on his cheek, dabbing away the dried blood. He stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“Remus?” you said gently. “Can you hear me?”

He let out a breathy sound before his amber eyes fluttered open. They were hazy with exhaustion, unfocused at first, but as he blinked, they found yours.

“You’re awake,” you said with a small smile, hoping to reassure him.

His brows furrowed slightly. “Where…?”

“The hospital wing,” you answered, still carefully cleaning the wound on his cheek. “Madam Pomfrey brought you in.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before he huffed a weak chuckle. “Must be bad if I don’t even remember getting here.”

“You look like you got into a fight with a troll,” you teased lightly.

He smiled faintly. “Did I win?”

“Hard to say. The troll might be in better condition.”

That earned a soft laugh from him, though it ended in a wince.

“Stay still,” you scolded gently. “I need to clean these properly, and that won’t happen if you keep moving.”

“Alright,” he muttered with a small smile, but he did as you said.

You continued working in silence, carefully dabbing at the scratches along his arms. His body tensed slightly under your touch, but he didn’t complain.

Then, your gaze landed on the wound on his chest—a nasty gash running diagonally across his ribs, partially covered by his torn shirt. You hesitated before clearing your throat.

“Um… I need to get to the wound on your chest,” you said, a little hesitant. “Can you…?”

His tired eyes widened slightly as he realized what you meant. “Oh. Right.”

There was an awkward pause before he weakly reached for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers trembling slightly.

You quickly stopped him, your hands gently brushing his. “Here, let me.”

He stiffened under your touch but didn’t protest as you carefully undid the buttons of his bloodstained shirt. As you pushed the fabric aside, your breath hitched.

His torso was littered with scars, old and new, crisscrossing his skin like a map of past battles. The fresh wound along his ribs was deep, still oozing.

You swallowed hard, trying to push aside the questions burning in your mind. What had done this to him?

Instead of asking, you dipped the cloth in the warm water again and gently pressed it to the wound.

He hissed through his teeth.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “I know it stings.”

“It’s alright,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re gentler than Pomfrey, at least.”

You smiled softly. “She believes in tough love.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he muttered, his voice slightly strained.

Wanting to distract him, you asked, “So, what do you usually do when you’re not getting yourself nearly killed?”

His lips twitched. “Read, mostly.”

You knew that the best way to distract the patients was by talking to them, about anything, so they could think about something else besides the pain.

“I could’ve guessed that,” you said with a small laugh. “Any favorites?”

He relaxed slightly at the question. “I like Defense Against the Dark Arts. And anything to do with magical creatures.”

“Magical creatures, huh?” You carefully applied the healing salve to his wound. “You don’t seem like the type to go wrestling with a dragon.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “No, definitely not. But I like learning about them.”

You smiled, tying off the last bandage. “Well, you’re all patched up. Try not to move too much.”

Remus let out a long breath, his eyelids growing heavy. “You’re… really kind,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “Get some rest, Remus.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before they finally closed.

And as you sat beside him, watching over him as he slept, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Remus Lupin—something hidden beneath the scars and the quiet smiles.

You just didn’t know what it was yet.

The morning was long.

You didn't have any classes this morning, despite still being Tuesday.

You figured it was best to stay by his side.

At least, until lunch, because after that you would have some charms classes.

You sat beside Remus, watching over him as the hours crept by, the hospital wing bathed in moonlight and quiet. His breathing was shallow, his forehead damp with sweat. A fever had settled in not long after he had fallen asleep, and you had spent the past few hours placing cool cloths on his forehead, ensuring he didn’t overheat.

Madam Pomfrey had come in once to check on him, nodded approvingly at your dedication, and left you to it.

You didn’t mind.

There was something about watching over him—something that made you feel… protective. Maybe it was the way he had looked at you before drifting off, like he wasn’t used to someone being this kind to him.

Or maybe it was just that he seemed to carry too much weight for someone so young.

You sighed, dipping the cloth in cool water again and pressing it lightly to his forehead. He shifted slightly in his sleep, brow furrowing, but he didn’t wake.

A soft murmur left his lips—too quiet for you to catch.

You leaned closer. “Remus?”

He didn’t respond, just turned his head slightly, a faint crease between his brows. His fingers twitched where they rested by his side.

“Nightmare?” you whispered, watching his expression.

You wanted to reach for his hand, to soothe him, but you hesitated. Instead, you gently ran your fingers through his damp hair, hoping the touch might calm whatever dream he was trapped in.

Slowly, his features relaxed again.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

And so, you sat there, watching over him, making sure he didn’t shift too much in his sleep or try to tear off the bandages in unconscious discomfort.

You kept taking care of the other students there, it was almost lunch time when your eyes glanced toward Remus—only to find his amber eyes already on you.

You came closer, staying by his side on the bed. “You’re awake.”

His lips curled slightly. “Yeah, unfortunately” His voice was rough with sleep.

You gave him a small smile. “How do you feel?”

He hesitated, as if he was actually assessing himself. “Like I got into a fight with a brick wall and lost.”

You smiled. “Well, you look better than some hours ago”

His brows lifted slightly. “Was I that bad?”

You gave him a look. “You had a fever, you were shifting in your sleep, and I had to stop you from undoing your own bandages twice.”

His eyes widened slightly. “I… did that?”

You nodded. “You don’t remember?”

“Not at all.” He looked both embarrassed and surprised. His gaze flickered toward the bowl of water and the pile of damp cloths beside it. “You stayed all morning?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s part of the job.”

He studied you for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Madam Pomfrey would’ve done it if it was just ‘part of the job.’ You chose to stay.”

You hesitated. “…I didn’t want you to be alone.”

His breath hitched slightly. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you as if trying to figure out how to respond.

Then, softly, “Thank you.”

Your heart warmed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” he said, holding your gaze. “No one’s ever… done that for me before.”

The weight of his words settled between you.

You frowned slightly. “What about James? Sirius?”

“They’re great,” he said immediately, but then he hesitated. “…They don’t see this part of me. I don’t let them.”

Something in his voice made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you reached out, brushing your fingers over the bandage on his arm. “You don’t have to hide when you’re hurt, especially not from me or what else i won't know how to help.”

His breath caught, and for a long moment, he just stared at you, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Finally, he smiled—small, but real. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You returned the smile. “Good. Now, do you think you can eat something, or do I need to force-feed you porridge?”

He chuckled. “I’ll eat. If only to avoid that fate.”

You grinned. “I’ll go get you something.”

As you walked away, you could still feel his gaze on you.

Remus was still staring at the doorway where you had disappeared when you returned, carrying a breakfast tray in both hands.

“Alright, hospital food isn’t exactly a feast, but it’s warm, and you need it,” you said as you placed the tray on his bedside table.

Remus sat up a little, wincing as he adjusted his position. He looked down at the tray—porridge, toast, and a steaming cup of tea.

You noticed his hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re picky.”

He smirked faintly. “No, just… hospital food isn’t usually something to look forward to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just try a little bit, alright?”

With an amused chuckle, he picked up the spoon and took a tentative bite of the porridge. It wasn’t terrible, which was the best compliment he could give it.

As he ate, you had already moved on, fussing over the other students in the ward.

“Drink more water, Gabe, you’ll feel better faster.”

“Maggie, you’re supposed to rest, not reread your Transfiguration notes.”

“Barty, don’t poke at your stitches, I swear to Merlin—”

Remus found himself watching you, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You were different.

It wasn’t just that you were kind—you loved this. He could see it in the way you moved, the way you spoke to everyone, the way you cared. It was like second nature to you, tending to people, making sure they were comfortable.

And yet… you were also a normal student. That much was obvious.

It hit him suddenly—he’d seen you around before. Not just in passing, but in the places he liked best. The library, tucked away in the quietest corners, flipping through thick medical textbooks and advanced Potions guides. The Astronomy Tower, where the view was the clearest. The courtyard, always with a book in your hands.

You weren’t just here. You were everywhere.

How did you balance it all?

Remus was still lost in thought when a hand appeared in front of his face.

He blinked and looked up.

You were standing there, a familiar-looking chocolate bar in your hand.

“Madam Pomfrey sent this,” you said with a smile. “She said it would help you feel better.”

Something warm settled in his chest.

He took the chocolate from you, running his fingers over the wrapper before glancing up at you. “She actually let you give it to me instead of forcing it on me herself?”

“She’s busy,” you said, shrugging. “But I think she knows I’d make you eat it either way.”

Remus chuckled, unwrapping the chocolate and breaking off a piece. As soon as it melted on his tongue, he sighed.

“Better?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Much,” he admitted.

You smiled in satisfaction before sitting on the edge of his bed. “So… I have a question.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice like you were sharing a secret. “How do you do it?”

Remus blinked. “Do what?”

“Everything,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “I mean, you’re top of the class, always reading, and somehow, you still have time to get into whatever mischief your friends drag you into.”

Remus smirked. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

He considered you for a moment before shrugging. “I guess… I don’t really think about it. I just do what I need to do.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

There was a comfortable silence between you.

Then, Remus glanced down at the chocolate in his hand. “You know… I’ve never had someone take care of me like this before.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Not even your friends?”

He hesitated. “They try. But I don’t let them.”

“Why not?”

His fingers tightened slightly around the wrapper. “Because… I don’t want them to worry.”

You frowned. “That’s a terrible reason.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe.”

You would say something else, but some other patient called. You smiled before turning around and going around to help others.

Hours later, the hospital wing was quieter. Most of the students had left, and Remus, finally feeling somewhat human again, was sitting on the edge of his bed, stretching his sore limbs.

You stood in front of him, holding a neatly folded set of fresh Hogwarts robes.

“Well, you look better,” you observed. “Still a bit pale, though.”

“I’m always pale,” he said dryly, though he smirked.

“Fair point,” you said, handing him the uniform. “Come on, get changed. You can’t walk around looking like you just wrestled a hippogriff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Just change, Lupin.”

He chuckled but stood, wincing slightly as he moved. You turned around, giving him privacy as he carefully removed the old ripped uniform he was using from earlier, and pulled on his new uniform. His movements were slow, careful not to aggravate his still-healing injuries.

After a few moments, he let out a small sigh. “Alright. You can turn around.”

You turned, scanning him critically before nodding in approval. “Much better.”

“You sound like Madam Pomfrey,” he said, amused.

You gasped in mock horror. “Take that back!”

“Never.”

You huffed but smiled, grabbing your bag from the chair. You had already changed into your uniform earlier, ready to head to class. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Remus blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “But I want to.”

His lips parted slightly, but no argument came.

He liked your company.

So, instead of protesting, he simply nodded. “Alright then. Lead the way, healer”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but walked beside him as you both left the hospital wing.

The corridors were bustling with students heading to their next classes. You and Remus walked side by side, keeping a comfortable pace.

“So,” you started, adjusting the strap of your bag, “what’s your favorite class?”

Remus hummed. “That’s an easy one—Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

You grinned. “I should’ve guessed. You do always get top marks in it.”

He shrugged. “It’s practical. Useful.”

“Okay, but what about for fun?” you asked, tilting your head. “Not just what’s useful—what do you enjoy?”

He hesitated, then said, “I like Charms.”

You brightened. “Me too! It’s so satisfying when you finally get a spell just right.”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding. “And you?”

“Besides Charms? I love Potions,” you said. “It’s precise, methodical… and it helps with Healing. I like that.”

Remus smiled. “That makes sense. You’re really good at it.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You noticed?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… yeah. I mean, you’re always top of the class, and I have seen you brewing in the library before.”

You chuckled. “Guilty. I like experimenting.”

“What’s the best potion you’ve made?”

You thought for a moment. “Probably a modified Wiggenweld Potion. I adjusted it to work faster without causing side effects.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s incredible.”

You shrugged, but his praise made you warm inside.

“What about books?” you asked. “I know you’re a reader.”

He smirked. “What gave it away?”

You laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I always see you in the library with your nose buried in a book?”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. I like anything about magical creatures, honestly.”

You nodded. “I can see that. You seem like the type to befriend a werewolf or something.”

Remus nearly tripped.

You didn’t notice, continuing, “I love medical books, obviously. But for fun? I like Muggle literature.”

He recovered quickly, forcing himself to focus. “Muggle literature?”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning. “There’s this Muggle author—Stephen King. Have you heard of him?”

Remus’s eyes lit up. “I have! The shining is brilliant.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’ve read it?”

He smirked. “I grew up in a half-Muggle household. My mum had loads of Muggle books.”

“Oh, I love that,” you said excitedly. “Okay, tell me—what do you think of Jack Torrance?”

Remus chuckled. “Misunderstood, the man was literally being controlled by evil spirits”

You gasped dramatically. “Correct answer. I knew I liked you, Lupin.”

Remus blinked, caught off guard, but you just laughed, nudging him playfully.

He laughed too, shaking his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light.

Before he knew it, you had reached your classroom.

You stopped at the door, turning to face him. “Well, this is me.”

He nodded, suddenly wishing you had a further walk.

“Thanks for walking with me,” you said with a smile. “And take care of yourself, okay?”

Something about the way you said it made his chest tighten.

He nodded. “You too.”

With a final smile, you turned and disappeared into the classroom.

Remus stood there for a moment before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

Then, with thoughts of you still swirling in his mind, he dragged himself to his own class, already looking forward to the next time he saw you.

Getting closer.

The days passed, and somehow, without either of you truly realizing it, you and Remus had begun to gravitate toward each other.

It wasn’t a conscious decision—at least, that’s what Remus told himself.

At first, it was small things.

You’d see each other in the library, sitting a few tables apart, until one of you would move closer—always under the excuse of needing a book the other was using.

You’d pass each other in the halls, exchanging small smiles, sometimes stopping for a brief chat about classes, assignments, or whatever book you were reading that week.

Remus, always more reserved, didn’t say much in the beginning. He would listen as you talked, and surprisingly, he never got tired of hearing you speak. You had this way of filling the silence without overwhelming it.

And what fascinated him the most?

You never got bored of him.

Most people—besides his closest friends—didn’t have the patience for his quiet nature, for his habit of getting lost in thought, for the way he preferred books over crowds. But you never seemed to mind.

If anything, you enjoyed talking to him.

And Remus liked listening to you.

Slowly but surely, Remus began seeking you out.

If he saw you in the Great Hall, he’d wave you over. If you passed each other in the corridors, he’d slow his steps so you could walk together. If he spotted you alone in the common room, he’d sit beside you, pulling out a book without a word.

And you? You found yourself looking for him, too.

One evening, you sat at your usual table in the library, a thick Potions book open in front of you. You were muttering ingredients under your breath, trying to memorize an antidote recipe, when a familiar figure slid into the seat across from you.

“You talk to your books a lot,” Remus observed, setting his own book down.

You looked up, smirking. “And yet, you still sit with me. What does that say about you?”

He chuckled. “That I’m patient?”

“Or that you secretly enjoy my rambling.”

He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe.”

You grinned, flipping a page. “What are you reading?”

“Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” he said, holding up the book.

You raised an eyebrow. “Planning on running off to become a Magizoologist?”

“Not quite,” he said, amused. “I just like creatures.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “If you could be any magical creature, what would you be?”

He hesitated for a second. “A werewolf.”

You blinked, surprised. “A werewolf?”

He nodded slowly, studying your face. “Yeah. They’re misunderstood. People assume they’re just mindless monsters, but… they’re not.”

You frowned slightly, considering his words. “You’re right. They don’t choose to be that way.”

Remus swallowed hard, watching you carefully. “You don’t think they’re evil?”

You shook your head. “Of course not. I think… I think most of them are probably just scared. And lonely.”

Something in Remus’s chest ached. He had never heard anyone say that before.

“You’re… different,” he said softly.

You gave him a curious look. “Different how?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You just… are.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “That’s a very vague answer, Lupin.”

He chuckled. “It’s the best you’re getting.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I’m sure you will.”

You eyed him suspiciously but let it go. “Well, I’d be a phoenix.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They heal people,” you said simply. “And they always come back.”

He stared at you for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, quietly, “That suits you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his voice.

For a brief second, neither of you spoke.

Then, he cleared his throat, turning his attention back to his book. “You were mumbling potion ingredients earlier. Studying for something?”

You exhaled, shaking off the strange warmth in your chest. “Yes. Madam Pomfrey’s quizzing me tomorrow, and I cannot mix up the bezoar antidotes again.”

Remus smirked. “Do you want me to test you?”

Your eyes lit up. “Would you?”

He nodded, and for the next hour, he quizzed you, throwing in the occasional joke just to make you laugh.

The Marauders.

Of course, being friends with Remus meant that you were friends with the Marauders now.

One evening, you sat cross-legged on the Gryffindor common room floor, surrounded by parchment and books. Remus sat beside you, his own notes scattered around. Across from you, James Potter and Sirius Black were sprawled on the couch, watching you both with lazy amusement. Peter Pettigrew sat on the armrest, nibbling on a biscuit.

“So, let me get this straight,” James said, stretching his arms behind his head. “You spend your free time—voluntarily, I might add—working in the hospital wing?”

You looked up from your parchment, raising an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“And you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

James exchanged a look with Sirius, who smirked. “Merlin’s beard, Moony, you’ve found your twin.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Because enjoying something that requires effort is such a crime?”

“No, but we just assumed no one else was as much of a workaholic as you,” Sirius teased.

You snorted. “I love what I do, thank you very much.”

Peter perked up. “Does that mean you’re good at Potions?”

“She’s brilliant,” Remus answered before you could, flipping a page in his book.

Sirius grinned. “Oh, that’s good to know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why?”

James leaned forward, an eager look in his eyes. “Because we need a potioneer for our next prank.”

You stared at him. “You want me to help you prank people?”

“Yes,” Sirius said smoothly, “because you’re cool.”

Remus made a sound like he was choking on his own breath. “Cool?”

James ignored him. “Think about it. You brew us something—nothing harmful, just a little mischief—and we execute it.”

You tilted your head, considering. “Would this be used on everyone or just specific people?”

“Filch,” Peter answered immediately. “And Snivellus.”

You hummed. “No harm, no permanent damage?”

James put a hand over his heart. “On my honor.”

You smirked. “I could make an odorless dye potion that only reacts to moonlight.”

Sirius gasped in delight. “That’s genius.”

“Imagine Snape walking around, thinking nothing’s wrong, and then—BAM—his face turns green under the full moon,” James cackled.

You smiled sweetly. “You’ll owe me chocolate.”

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Deal.”

Remus sighed, looking at you with an exasperated but amused expression. “You do realize you’re enabling them?”

“Oh, I know,” you said innocently. “But it’s fun.”

James grinned. “She’s one of us now, Moony.”

Remus looked at you, then at them, then sighed again, rubbing his temple. “Merlin help us all.”

[narcissisticsmoker]

The room is drenched in warmth, flickering candlelight dancing across the walls, the scent of her favorite meal still lingering in the air. I had planned everything, down to the smallest details; the wine she loves, the playlist that makes her sigh, the way the room glows just enough to set the mood between desire and devotion.

She stands in the doorway, wrapped in the cold of the night, but when her eyes find mine, there’s something else in them, something deeper. She steps inside, slow and deliberate, her gaze tracing over the space before settling on me.

“You did all this?” she breathes.

“For you? Always.”

Her coat slips from her shoulders, and I catch it, but my hands don’t stop there. My fingers skim along her arms, ghosting over her skin before settling at her waist. A shiver runs through her, not from the cold, but from my touch.

“Come,” I murmur, leading her to the table, but I don’t let go.

Dinner is slow, filled with teasing glances over wine glasses, fingers brushing over knuckles, the tension between us tightening with every passing second. She leans forward, trailing her finger along the rim of her glass, watching me with that look that makes me weak.

“You’re staring,” she whispers.

I don’t deny it. “You’re stunning.”

She smirks, but there’s a softness to it. “Flatterer.”

I take her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist, letting my lips linger against her pulse. “Only the truth.”

The wine is forgotten when I pull her onto the balcony, the cool air wrapping around us as I settle behind her, arms encircling her waist. She fits against me too perfectly, like she was always meant to be here.

“Dance with me.”

She hums, leaning into my touch. “Are you going to let me lead?”

I chuckle, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Not a chance.”

The music drifts between us, soft and slow, and I move her with me, letting our bodies mold together in a rhythm only we understand. My hands slide over her hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of her dress, feeling the warmth of her beneath it. She tilts her head back, exposing her throat to me, and I take the invitation, pressing my lips there, tasting her skin.

“You’re mine,” I breathe, voice rough with the weight of it.

She turns in my arms, her fingers threading through my hair, pulling, claiming. “And you’re mine.”

The words settle between us, heavy and final, but I don’t give her time to say more before I kiss her.

It’s deep, demanding,her lips parting beneath mine, her body melting into me as I press her against the balcony rail. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her breath hitching when my hands slide lower, gripping her thighs, pulling her flush against me.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” I murmur against her lips, hands gripping the back of her thighs, lifting her just enough for her to feel how much I need her.

She gasps, arms tightening around my neck. “Then stop thinking.”

I carry her inside, barely making it past the threshold before pressing her against the nearest wall, my mouth devouring hers. She sighs into me, legs wrapping around my waist, nails raking down my back as I move against her. Every touch, every breath, every whisper is a claim; a promise.

She pulls back just enough to look at me, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with something that sends a shiver through me. “I need you.”

“You have me,” I swear, pressing my forehead to hers. “Always.”

By the time the clock strikes midnight, she is tangled in my sheets, her body molded against mine, the scent of us filling the air. My fingers trace over the curve of her hip, memorizing her all over again.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” I whisper against her skin.

She exhales a soft laugh, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

And when she finally drifts to sleep in my arms, I hold her closer, knowing she is mine just as much as I am hers. <3

[dulcescorderitas]

parings: dean winchester x reader

song: espresso by sabrina carpenter

warnings: 18+, smut

now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh

there's no goddamn way he’s sleeping. you know it because the phone’s already buzzing on the nightstand, screen lighting up with his name—dean. you sigh, knowing exactly what he wants, and when you pick up, his voice is low, rough, dripping with need. he never lasts more than a few days without this, without you. distance frays him at the edges, makes him restless.

is it that sweet? i guess so

"baby," he breathes, already wrecked. "you sleepin’?"

you chuckle, voice thick with exhaustion. "was about to."

"nah, you weren’t. you knew i was gonna call." his voice is a slow drag of heat, the same way his hands feel on your skin when he’s finally home, the same way his mouth lingers when he’s memorizing you all over again.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his voice is like warm whiskey over ice, like gravel under the tires of his impala, steady and rough. "can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you," he mutters, a groan slipping out like he’s already palming himself through his jeans. "wish i was home right now. wish i was fuckin’ buried in you."

that's that me espresso

heat blooms in your stomach at the way his voice tightens, the way he barely holds it together. "yeah?" you tease, already shifting under the sheets, already picturing his broad hands on your thighs, his mouth dragging over your skin. "tell me what you'd do."

move it up, down, left, right, oh

he lets out a shaky exhale, breath already ragged. "you know what i’d do. mouth on your neck, hands all over you—fuck, i’d take my time. make you feel so goddamn good." his voice drops lower, strained, as you hear the slick sound of him stroking himself, slow and teasing, like he’s savoring the ache. "wish I had my hands on you right now. wanna feel your tits, wanna taste every inch of you. bet you’re warm, soft—fuck, bet you’d feel so perfect wrapped around me."

he groans, deep and needy, and you swear you can hear his head tilting back against the pillow, his jaw tightening. "goddamn it, sweetheart. tell me you need it just as bad."

switch it up like nintendo

he’s always like this when he’s away too long—needy, relentless, like the distance between you is something he physically can’t stand. you’d laugh if it wasn’t so hot, if you didn’t know how wrecked he’d be when he finally got home.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his breath stutters through the line, and you can picture it perfectly—his head tilted back against some shitty motel pillow, body tense, fist wrapped tight around himself. "baby—shit—I’m close."

that's that me espresso

"good," you whisper, biting your lip. "wanna hear you fall apart for me."

too bad your ex don't do it for ya

when he finally gets home, it’s chaos. bags hit the floor, keys are forgotten, and his hands are on you before the door even shuts. he smells like road dust and leather, like gunpowder and whiskey, and it’s intoxicating.

walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya

you don’t even make it to the bedroom. dean’s got you pressed against the wall, mouth hot and demanding against yours, hands greedy and impatient. "been too fuckin’ long," he growls, voice thick with need. "gonna make up for every damn second."

soft skin and i perfumed it for ya

his fingers dig into your hips as he grinds against you, all heat and desperation. the solid wall against your back does nothing to cool the fire spreading through your veins as his mouth moves hot and open over your throat, teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp. his hands roam greedily, gripping, kneading, as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone.

"missed you so goddamn much," he mutters, voice barely holding steady. one hand slides between your thighs, pressing against your core through thin fabric, feeling the heat and wetness waiting for him. "need you. need all of you." his hips roll forward, grinding the hard length of him against you, and it's dizzying, the way he devours you, like he’s been starving for this, for you.

(yes) i know i mountain dew it for ya

you laugh, breathless, clinging to his shoulders. "then take me, winchester."

(yes) that morning coffee, brewed it for ya

the next few weeks, he hardly lets you out of his sight. anytime you move, he’s there—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck, pressing you into the mattress, the couch, the damn kitchen counter. he’s insatiable, but so are you, and every time he touches you, it’s like setting gasoline on fire.

(yes) one touch and i brand-newed it for ya

you tease him about it once, about how insatiable he is. he just grins, presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. "ain’t my fault," he murmurs, lazy and content. "you’re my goddamn addiction." and the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing keeping him together, you know it’s true.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @sunnyteume @starzify

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Happy Valentine’s Day to those who are in a relationship and to those still searching for love. But in both cases, I love you all, my dearest ones. And hey, if love doesn’t find you today… there’s always chocolate❤

Warnings: smut, nsfw, sex themes, mature themes, jealousy, a bit of possessive behaviour, fluff in the end

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

☙Valentine's day☙

The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears as James Hetfield and I stepped into the dimly lit bar. The scent of whiskey, smoke, and sweat clung to the air like a lingering ghost of the night’s concert. It was February 14th, but to me, it was just another evening of heavy drinks and heavier emotions.

James had always been more than a friend to me—an unspoken tension lingered between us like a song left unfinished. A touch that lingered too long, a glance that seared too deep. But neither of us had dared to cross that line. Not yet. But tonight… Tonight, there was something different in the air.

We sat at the bar, glasses filled with burning amber liquid, our laughter echoing through the hazy atmosphere. My heart clenched as I looked at him, his rugged face illuminated by the dim light, the faintest hint of sweat still on his brow from the stage.

Then, just when I thought this night couldn’t get any crueler, she appeared. A blonde groupie, dripping in confidence and arrogance, sauntered over like she owned the damn place and plopped herself right onto James’ lap.

“Jamie,” she purred, her fingers playing with a strand of her golden hair. “It’s Valentine’s Day. When are you gonna declare your love for me?”

I clenched my jaw, swirling the drink in my glass, feigning indifference. But my sarcasm slipped out before I could stop it. “Well, he never does,” I muttered dryly, taking a sip. “He only thinks about something else.”

James turned to look at me, his smirk flickering, his eyes unreadable. There was something there—something deeper, darker—but he said nothing.

Lars, ever the shit-stirrer, leaned toward me with a knowing smirk. “What’s with you? Jealous or something?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Jealous? Please. Actually, I was thinking about heading out. Someone’s waiting for me.”

James’ fingers tightened around his glass, but he said nothing.

Lars let out a low chuckle. “Oh yeah? Who is he?” He leaned forward, intrigued. “Describe him. What’s he like?”

I smirked, playing into it, knowing exactly what I was doing. “Tall. Dark hair. Strong hands.” I let my fingers trail along the rim of my glass. “Knows exactly how to touch me.”

James exhaled sharply, his jaw ticking.

Lars grinned. “And in bed?”

I leaned back, savoring every second of the tension. “Man, he’s divine. No one fucks like him.”

The air grew heavy. James’ grip on his drink tightened, his knuckles going white. His jaw flexed as he slowly turned to face me, his stare burning into my skin.

I stood abruptly, grabbing my coat and walking out. The cold night air slapped me, a cruel contrast to the heat bubbling inside me. I barely made it a few steps before I heard rapid footsteps behind me.

“Y/N!”

I turned, my breath hitching as James stormed toward me, his face unreadable but his eyes dark and intense.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, feigning surprise, though my pulse was hammering.

He stopped just inches away, his breath warm against the night’s chill. “Is it true?” His voice was low, rough. “You got someone waiting for you?”

I tilted my head, smirking. “Maybe.”

His eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Ah, yeah? I wanna meet him.” His voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down my spine. “He knows how to fuck well?”

I let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, absolutely. The guy’s practically a saint in the sheets. You should take notes.”

James’ expression darkened, his body going rigid. Before I could react, he grabbed me—strong arms lifting me off the ground as he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

“James, what the fuck?!” I shrieked, kicking against his hold as he strode toward his car.

“You’ll see,” he growled.

The drive to his place was silent but thick with tension. The moment we stepped inside, he was on me—his lips crashing against mine, hands gripping my waist with a possessive urgency that sent heat pooling between my legs.

“You wanna test me?” he growled against my lips, his teeth grazing my bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth. “I’ll fucking show you.”

His hands gripped my hips as he backed me against the nearest wall. The world blurred as we stumbled through the house, knocking over furniture, bodies colliding in a desperate battle for dominance. My clothes were gone before I could blink, my skin burning under his rough touch.

“Tell me again,” he muttered darkly, his lips trailing down my throat, his teeth grazing my skin. “Tell me how fucking ‘divine’ he is.”

I gasped, my nails raking down his back. “Fuck you.”

His hand wrapped around my throat, tilting my head back. “Oh, sweetheart,” he growled, pressing his forehead to mine. “That’s exactly what you’re getting.”

 James’ hands roamed over my skin, fingers dancing along the fabric of my dress, teasing but not revealing, as if he were savoring every tantalizing moment. “Such a pretty dress, but it’s not gonna last long,” he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and heavy, sending shivers down my spine.

With one swift motion, he gripped the hem and yanked it over my head, tossing it aside as if it were nothing, leaving me standing there in nothing but my lace panties. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he growled, his eyes dark with desire, drinking in the sight of me. But I saw that flicker of jealousy, the way his jaw clenched at the thought of me with someone else.

“That asshole doesn’t know a damn thing about you,” he spat, the intensity in his gaze igniting my own desire.

Before I could respond, his hands were on me again, gripping my hips tightly as he guided me to the couch. “Get comfortable,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. I sank down onto the plush cushions, my heart racing as he knelt before me.

James lowered himself, his mouth inches from my core. “Let’s see how well he knows you,” he teased huskily, trailing his fingers along my thighs, drawing closer to that burning heat between my legs. I gasped, arching my back in anticipation.

“James,” I whimpered, urgency flooding my voice.

“Hush, sweetheart,” he replied with a wicked smirk. “I want to hear you, not speak.” He lowered his mouth, lips brushing against my panties, teasing the fabric as my body responded instinctively. “Tell me, is he better than me?” he taunted, his eyes glinting with possessiveness.

I hesitated, wanting to tease him just a bit longer. “Maybe… if that’s what you want to believe,” I replied, a playful lilt in my voice.

His breath hitched, a low growl escaping him as he pressed his mouth harder against me. “You’re playing with fire, beautiful,” he warned, his fingers gripping my thighs like a vice.

When he finally pulled those lace panties aside, my breath hitched in my throat. His tongue flicked out, teasingly slow at first, before plunging deep, igniting a fire within me. I moaned loudly, arching my hips as I dug my fingers into the couch, gripping the fabric to keep myself grounded.

“James, please… don’t stop,” I begged, my voice thick with need.

He groaned against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. “You taste fucking addictive,” he murmured, mouth moving hungrily. “But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

I bit my lip, feeling the tension building. “You feel amazing,” I breathed, my voice shaky. “So much better than I ever imagined.”

“Better than him, right?” he pressed, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

“Maybe…” I teased, confidence surging through me.

His eyes darkened further, primal need taking over. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re about to find out what ‘better’ really means,” he growled, his fingers working my clit in perfect rhythm. “I bet he never got you this worked up.”

I was nearing the edge, the pleasure overwhelming. “James… I need—”

“Need what?” he teased, leaning closer to me, his breath warm against my core.

“Just… don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his tone sultry as he drove me to the brink. When I finally fell apart, my body quaking with pleasure, I cried out, “James!” waves of ecstasy washing over me.

His satisfaction was palpable as he climbed over me, body pressing against mine. “That’s just the start,” he whispered, his fingers tangling in my hair, tilting my head back to claim my mouth.

The kiss was hungry, desperate—filled with all the pent-up emotions we had danced around for so long. As he stripped off the remains of his clothes, I swallowed hard, taking in the sight of him.

“Now, let’s see what else you’ve been missing,” he said, pinning me against the couch again, breathless laughter accompanying his possessiveness.

“Are you ready for me?” he growled, eyes darkening with need.

“James, I—”

“Just say yes, and I’ll take care of the rest,” he interrupted, his voice low and commanding.

“Yes,” I breathed, feeling the heat pool between my legs again.

With a swift movement, he entered me, filling me completely. I gasped, clenching around him as he began to thrust, each movement pushing me closer to the edge once again. “You feel so damn good,” he groaned, eyes locked on mine as he continued to move, each thrust deliberate and deep.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he hissed, punctuating each word with a forceful thrust, possessive and hungry. “Better than what you had before.”

“I—oh god, yes, James!” I cried out, my moans mixing with the sounds of his thrusts. I couldn’t manage anything more than gasps—the pleasure overwhelming, my world reduced to the sensations of him moving inside me.

As James thrust deeper inside me, his breath came in ragged gasps. “Does my cock feel better than his?” he growled, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

I didn’t answer, lost in the overwhelming pleasure as he drove deeper, his hips slamming against me, pushing my body to the edge.

“Can you take it all?” he demanded, thrusting harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Still, I only gasped, my body writhing in response to the sheer ecstasy of his movements.

“Do I fuck you better than he ever did?” he pressed, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts, each one sending shockwaves through me.

I met his intense gaze, heart racing, but I couldn’t find my voice, even as the pleasure surged within me.

“Tell me! Are you forgetting him?” he growled, thrusting even harder, causing my body to respond instinctively to the force of his movements.

Finally, I felt the pressure building to an unbearable peak, and I gasped out, “James!”

He paused, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, and then he pushed into me with an unforgiving thrust. “That’s right, scream my name. You’re mine tonight” he demanded, a wicked grin on his lips as he leaned close.

“James!” I cried out, feeling the tension coiling tighter within me.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and sultry. “That’s it. Let go for me. Let me hear just how good I fuck you.”

With a few more powerful thrusts, that coil unraveled, sending me spiraling into ecstasy once again. I could feel him right there with me, his own pleasure peaking as I clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

“Y/N!” he roared, his hips slamming against me one last time before he stilled, a growl escaping his lips.

The aftermath of our reckless, feverish passion wrapped around me like a heavy blanket. My heartbeat gradually slowed to match the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. His head rested on me, his hair damp against my skin, and his arm lay draped possessively across my waist. His fingers, rough and calloused, traced lazy circles against my ribs, grounding me in the reality of what just happened.

I ran my fingers through his hair, savoring the quiet intimacy. It felt surreal—James, my unresolved tension for so long,  and now he’s lying here with me like we’d broken through some invisible barrier we’d pretended didn’t exist. I didn’t want to think about what came next. I just wanted to stay like this forever.

But, of course, James had to break the silence.

“So…” he muttered, voice rough and low. “You never answered me.”

I tilted my head to look down at him. His chin rested on my chest now, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Answered what?” I asked, feigning innocence.

He raised an eyebrow. “The guy.”

My lips twitched. Oh, I was going to have fun with this. I gave a nonchalant shrug, letting my fingers slip through his hair. “Ah, yeah. Him.” I bit my lip and let my eyes go unfocused like I was lost in thought. “Mmm… yeah, he’s pretty unforgettable.”

James froze. His fingers stopped their lazy tracing, his entire body going rigid against mine. His jaw flexed, his eyes darkening as he pushed himself up onto one elbow. The weight of his stare pinned me beneath him.

“Is that true?” he asked softly. His thumb brushed along my cheek, the touch gentle even though the intensity of his gaze made my stomach flip. “You really got someone waiting for you?”

The jealousy in his eyes was almost palpable, but I wasn’t ready to give in yet. I raised an eyebrow, lips curving into a wicked grin. “Maybe.”

His nostrils flared slightly. His thumb drifted down, tracing the curve of my jaw. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He looked away for a moment, jaw tight, before his eyes met mine again. The vulnerability in that look hit me like a punch to the gut.

“That shit killed me, you know,” he admitted. His voice was rougher now, the teasing bravado completely gone. “Hearing you talk like that. Thinking there might be some other guy… someone who gets to touch you like this. Someone who…” He hesitated, his thumb ghosting over my lips. “Who gets to have you.”

My heart squeezed. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat.

James let out a humorless laugh, his eyes dropping to my lips. “I’ve had women throwing themselves at me for years. Groupies who don’t know a damn thing about me beyond the stage.” His lips twisted into a grim smile. “And yeah, I could’ve had any of ‘em. But I didn’t.”

I swallowed hard. “Why not?”

He inhaled slowly, his eyes meeting mine again. “Because the one I ever wanted is you”

The air left my lungs in a rush. My pulse raced, my skin prickling as his words settled in. Holy shit.

Before I could respond, James pushed himself off the bed. I sat up, holding the sheet to my chest as I watched him stride naked across the room. He disappeared into the hallway, leaving me there, heart racing and mind spinning.

What the hell was he doing?

I was still catching my breath when he returned a minute later, his large hand clutching something. As he stepped into the warm glow of the bedside lamp, I saw it clearly: a single red rose with a black string tied around its stem. Attached to the string was a small folded note.

My lips parted in surprise as he held it out to me. His fingers flexed slightly when I took it.

“I was gonna give this to you earlier,” he said, voice low and rough. “Before the whole ‘I got a guy waiting for me’ thing.” His mouth quivered in a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess I chickened out.”

I unfolded the note with trembling fingers, my heart threatening to crack my ribcage.

Will you be my Valentine?

I stared at the words, my vision blurring with the tears that sprang up uninvited. My lips parted, but I couldn’t speak. The simplicity of it, the rawness… it shattered me in the best way.

James shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I just… I needed you to know. I’ve felt this way for a long time.”

I let the rose fall to the bed and surged forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down to me. My lips crashed into his, pouring everything I couldn’t say into that kiss. His arms came around me instantly, crushing me against his chest as he kissed me back with the same desperate hunger.

When we finally broke apart, I cupped his face, smiling through the tears. “Yes,” I whispered. “I’ll be your Valentine.”

James exhaled shakily, his forehead resting against mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Always.”

He groaned softly, pulling me into his lap. His lips brushed against mine, softer this time. Slower. Like he was savoring the taste of the answer he’d wanted all along.

But I couldn’t resist one last poke. I ran my fingers through his hair and tilted my head. “Although, I gotta say… the other guy might be jealous.”

James froze mid-kiss and leaned back, eyes narrowing. “The fuck?”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

His jaw clenched, and that dark possessiveness returned, his hands gripping my waist. “Y/N…”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. I let my head fall back as it spilled out, echoing through the room. When I looked at him again, his mouth was a tight line, but his eyes were soft.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, Hetfield,” I teased, running my fingers along his stubbled jaw.

“Yeah? Keep laughing, sweetheart,” he growled, a smirk finally breaking through. “But you’re mine now. And if that imaginary asshole ever shows up…”

“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do?”

His lips brushed my ear, voice a low, delicious growl. “I’ll remind him exactly who you belong to”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[x-aefx]

Hey there beautiful, I have a request if that's okay!

We’re a bartender at the local bar where Billie lives, and it's been a rough day for us. We’re not in the best mood—until we spot a stunning woman sitting at the bar: Billie.

Curious, we make our way over to chat with her and soon learn that she’s only there because a few of her friends dragged her out for the night—even though she doesn’t drink. Despite that, we immediately hit it off, sharing laughs and good conversation. By the end of the night, we’ve even got her number!

STRANGER - BILLIE EILISH X FEM!READER

A/N: sorry this took so long but I hope you like it🤍

No warnings.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

You scrubbed the bar with a cloth harshly, going over spots you had already done as irritation pooled inside you. Everything was annoying you today, you didn't know why.

Perhaps it was because you were supposed to have today off, or because you really hated working in this shitty place, or maybe it was the men who constantly eyed you down just a few seats away.

You knew those men of course, you knew every person in this bar by name. It was a local place, filled with local people you had talked to or seen at some stage of your life.

Your arm began to get tired as you rubbed the cloth in circular motions against the counter top. A strand of hair fell in front of your face as you pressed firmly against the wood.

"Ahem." One of the men cleared his throat loudly to get your attention. "I want a refill." He called over to you.

Knowing if you showed any kind of attitude your boss would be told immediately, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a second, calming yourself before you went over to the man. You threw the white cloth over your shoulder as you approached the other end of the bar.

Wordlessly you took the man's glass and began refilling his beer, his third in an hour.

"Brighten up sweetheart and give us a smile." He laughed and soon the other men did to.

You sighed, placing the now full glass in front of him, more harshly then you intended, and turned away from them wordlessly. Your hand reached for the cloth over your shoulder, you planned to continue on cleaning.

As you walked, you spotted an unfamiliar figure sitting at the very far side of the bar. Unlike everyone else in this place, you didn't recognise her.

Discreetly, you tried to get a better look at her to see if maybe you did recognise her. You pretended to wipe down the counter beside you as you stole quick glances at her.

Her hair, from what you could see from under the black beanie she wore, was black. Her skin was pale and clear, her lips a rosy hue of pink.

Who was she?

You tried to forget about her as you kept yourself busy. It didn't work. You chatted with customers as you served their drinks, but your eyes always strayed to her.

What was she doing here alone? Who was she? Why has she been sitting in the one spot, and not talking to anyone or dancing? She wasn't even drinking any sort of alcoholic drink, only a can of coke infront of her which she barely drank from.

As the night went on customer's became scarce, most people too drunk to even stand, yet the mystery woman remained sober as ever, in her seat where she had been all night. Occasionally a few people would try get her onto the dance floor or to have a drink, but the girl always refused, assuring them they were alright.

When there was nothing left to do and curiosity got the best of you, you decided to go over to her. You just wanted to figure out who she was and why she looked so unhappy to be here.

You bit your cheek as you approached, leaning against the bar opposite her.

When you stopped before her she immediately looked up, meeting your gaze.

You were going to say something but stopped yourself. Her eyes were the most unique shade of blue you had ever seen. They were beautiful and hard to look away from. Something about the way she was looking at you made you lose all your thoughts.

Billie sensed you approach. She fought back her cocky smirk when she saw you get all nervous when she met your eyes, though ultimately she couldn't hold it back.

You snapped out of your trance when the girl cleared her throat, your cheeks becoming red when you seen her smirking face, knowing you had been caught staring.

You cleared your throat, too, standing up straighter, trying not to come off as nervous as you now felt under her piercing stare.

"You've been sitting here for some time, never ordering a drink, never talking to anyone, are you waiting for someone?" You asked the question that had been nagging at your mind the whole night.

Billie paused. After a moment of thinking she looked behind her to the dance floor, her two friends that she had came here with were dancing, holding eachother up as they were both drunk, she turned back to you, sighing.

"This isn't really my scene, but my friends convinced me to come." Billie confessed, "I'm not really the drinking type, and I'm not in the mood to dance. That's how I found myself here."

You smiled. "That's how you found yourself talking to me." You corrected her, trying to lighten the mood. Billie said nothing but she had this smirk on her face that had you wanting to keep this conversation going.

"Yeah." Billie sat up straighter, her eyes never leaving mine. "What's your name?"

You smiled, "y/n" you responded, "you?"

"Billie." She said.

You tilted your head to the side in thought. "I've never seen you around. Are you from here?" You frowned. You were sure if she lived close, you would have seen her at some point.

Billie laughed quietly to herself. "Yeah, I do." Billie said. You frowned, making Billie laugh again. You couldn't help but smile at the sound of her laugh. "What?"

Billie shook her head. "Nothing, nothing."

You frowned again, "No, you have to tell me!" You begged playfully.

Billie leaned in closer to you, her eyes dropping momentarily to your lips. "I'm just not used to these types of interactions, going this kind of way." She shrugged.

You stared at her, completely puzzled, left asking yourself , 'either she's really smart or I'm really dumb.'

"Ok, what the fuck does that mean?" You said bluntly, her words not making any sense to you.

Billie laughed again but this time, this time it was a full belly laugh, she threw her head back as she laughed with a full smile, her perfectly white teeth on display.

Billie shook he read again, dismissing your question.

"Fine, keep your secrets." You playfully pouted.

"You'll figure it out." Billie waved her hand, "I assume you live near once you work here."

You nodded your head in confirmation. "Born and raised." You said proudly.

Billie smiled. There was a pause. Billie just admired you for a second, her face tilted as her eyes searched yours before travelling down the whole of your face.

You felt giddy under her gaze, in her presence in general. Maybe it was her beauty, or maybe it was her confidence, you didn't know. There was also an air of mystery around her that pulled you in, made you want to get to know her more.

"I can't believe I've never seen you around before." You said in disbelief, "we live in the same neighbourhood!" You giggled.

Billie smirked again. There was something sparkling in her eyes, mischief, trouble.

"I travel a lot." Billie said simply.

You raised a brow, "holidays or for work?" You questioned.

"Work." She answered with a small nod of her head.

"How much travelling exactly are we talking?" You continued your questions.

Billie thought of her answer for a moment.

"Uh." She pondered, "it changes year from year, currently it's for majority of this year with short breaks here and there."

You blew out a breath, impressed. "What job do you have and where do I apply." You joked.

Billie laughed at your remark. She rested her head in her palm, looking at you with a soft shake of her head. "You don't want my job." She reassured.

You scoffed. "You're travelling for most of the year, of course i want your job."

Billie stayed quiet for a second.

"So, what job do you have?" You couldn't deny you were intrigued.

Billie smiled teasingly, leaning closer towards you in her seat.

"Guess." She said lowly.

You sighed. You wanted to know more about this mystery woman, but you didn't have the patience to solve riddles to find everything out.

You groaned, your head falling back as you watched her find your annoyance amusing. "There is not a single job that requires this much mysteriousness."

"What can I say? I'm a mysterious person." Billie faked a bow.

You chuckled, accepting she wasn't going to reveal all her secrets.

"Fine, fine, I'm done snooping." You raised your hand in surrender.

Billie pouted, her brows furrowing. "Hey I didn't get to ask you questions. " She said in a playful, babyish tone.

"I think your friends need you over there." You pointed behind her to where two girls were trying to gain her attention, successfully avoiding her question.

You smiled at her triumphantly, because you knew you had won whatever little game the two of you had been playing.

Billie looked back at them, mouthing something to them, before turning back to you with her hand out.

You looked at her hand questionably, not understanding what she meant.

"Your phone." She prompted, sounding too confident yet you gave it to her anyway.

You bit back a smile as you watched her type in her phone number quickly. She she had finished she went to give your phone back to you, but stopped, she looked up at you slyly before going on your phone again. You saw her exit the phone app, that was all you saw before she had held the phone closer to her, blocking your view of shat she was doing on it.

You watched her, completely and utterly confused as she started typing.

This woman remained a mystery to you, but still you found yourself being lured in.

She stopped typing and instead of handing you back your phone, she left it flat on the bar, the screen facing down but you could tell it wa still turned on from the light reflecting on the counter.

"I'll see you around." Billie winked at you with a proud smile. As soon as she said those words, she was gone. You watched her enter the sea of people to where her friends were. You watched as she helped them walk through the crowd and out of the bar, out of your sight completely.

You blew out a breath once she was gone. Your eyes flickered down to your phone and you remembered watching her type something whilst hiding it from you. You figured you could find put what she had been doing by checking your phone history.

When you lifted your phone it was still turned on, immediately you were met with a Google search Blie had made. Your eyes found the I.age first before any writing. An image of her.

Your eyes widened as you recognised her. Why was she on Google? Then you quickly read the search, Billie Eilish, it read. Reading further, you quickly realised she was famous and had googled herself for you to see since you hadn't recognised.

You found an article titled, Billie Eilish tour dates released!

Your mind went back to the conversation you had with her.

I'm just not used to these types of interactions, going this kind of way.

She wasn't used to people not recognising her.

I travel a lot.

She goes on tour.

You wanted to slap yourself for being so slow and not catching on.

"That motherfucker!" You muttered under your breath as you continued reading everything about Billie. Although the corners of your lips lifted as you stopped yourself from smiling, you remembered how she had given you her number. You remembered her smirk and pretty blue eyes.

You shook your head with a smile, needing to get back to work. "That motherfucker. " You repeated, this time with a giddy smile as you replayed the interaction in your mind, your stomach filled with butterflies.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

[starlovesganyu]

hello there, may I humbly request hu tao, fu xuan or other characters you want where they comfort reader who just came back from a very very rough day? thank youu

after a long day!

thanks for the ask!

various characters x gn!reader

characters: hu tao, fu xuan

warnings: none

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hu tao -`✮´-

• the door creaked open, and you stepped inside, your shoulders heavy with the weight of the day

• you barely had the energy to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, burying your face in your hands

• hu tao, who had been scribbling a poem in her notebook at the table, looked up immediately. her usual mischievous grin fading as she took in your slumped posture and the weariness etched into your face

• without a word, she set down her pen and crossed the room, her movements uncharacteristically quiet

• at first, hu tao tried to lighten the mood with some of her signature tricks, but when you barely react, her smile faltered, realizing this isn't the time for her usual antics

"hey," she said softly, her voice a gentle contrast to her usual playful tone. she sat beside you, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. "rough day, huh?"

• you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. hu tao didn’t press. instead, she stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a steaming cup of tea.

"drink," she said, her tone light but firm. "it’s my special blend—guaranteed to chase away the gloom. or at least make it a little less gloomy."

• you took a sip, the warmth spreading through you as hu tao draped a blanket over your shoulders. she sat close, her head resting lightly against your arm, her presence a quiet comfort

• eventually, you started to talk, the words spilling out in a rush as hu tao listened intently

"you know," she said, her voice steady, "you’re stronger than you think. you’ve got this whole ‘facing the world’ thing down better than most of the ghosts i deal with."

• her attempt at humor drew a small laugh from you, and hu tao’s eyes lit up at the sound.

"there we go," she said, her usual mischief creeping back into her tone. "that’s the smile i like to see. now, how about we order some takeout and watch something ridiculous? my treat!"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

fu xuan -`✮´-

• fu xuan is not one to sugarcoat-her words are often sharp, her demeanor cool and collected

• but even she can’t ignore the way you drag yourself home after a grueling day, your shoulders slumped and your expression weary

"you look like you’ve been battling the aeons themselves," she says, her tone as blunt as ever, but there’s a flicker of something softer in her eyes

• she strides over to you, and without asking, she takes your bag from your hands and sets it aside

"sit," she commands, pointing to a chair.

• you sit, too tired to argue, and fu xuan disappears into her room, carrying a small, neatly wrapped box when she returns

• without a word, she places the box in front of you with a gentle thump, and when you peek inside, your eyes widen in surprise-it's filled with your favorite chocolates

"how did you-?" you begin, looking up at her, startled that she remembers all of your preferences

• fu xuan huffs, crossing her arms tighter over her chest as she quickly looks away

"tsk...it's not that impressive. you're painfully predictable you know?"

• but the slight pink dusting her cheeks betrays her, and you catch the way she shifts uncomfortably under your gaze

"you know," she says after a moment, her tone still haughty but with a hint of something warmer, "even the most brilliant stars need to rest. you're no exception"

"d-don’t misunderstand," she adds quickly, her voice regaining its usual edge. "i’m only saying this because your inefficiency reflects poorly on me"

• despite her harsh words, she stays by your side while your favorite sweets begin to lift your spirits, the tension in your body slowly easing away

• as you thank her, fu xuan huffs again, turning her head away to hide the faint smile tugging at her lips

"j-just don't make a habit out of this," she grumbles, but the way she lingers, arms still crossed but posture more relaxed tells you everything her words don't

thanks for reading!!!