#i'm sorry but they were totally sleeping together

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Leathery Love

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 here's part one, hope you enjoy

and @lilacwriter07 enjoy your early Christmas present

Lilith: I'm leaving you Lucifer

After twenty years of marriage never did Lucifer ever imagine those words ever being uttered from the love of his life's lips. Especially not on the day of their wedding anniversary.

Lucifer: What?

Was all he could say to Lilith who looked both tired and disappointed with him as she sat at the table with her arms crossed. They were supposed to be eating a meal together, drinking some wine, then watching a movie. They were at home at Lilith's insistence from a few days ago. She said she wanted to spend the evening with just him. No one else was to see what she wished to do.

He just thought she wanted to try something new. Not break his fucking heart in private so no one can see him cry.

Lilith: I said I'm leaving you Lucifer, I want a divorce.

Lucifer felt his heart start to pace as his breathing slowly turned erratic.

Lucifer: But, but, but I, I don't...why Lily

Lilith bristled at the nickname for a moment before answering.

Lilith: Because I no longer wish to be in a relationship where I fell out of love with you years ago. I swore that when Charlie moved out, I would finally bring myself to get out of a place that has only brought me misery.

With that she stood up and headed upstairs. Lucifer was still reeling when about five minutes later she was coming back down with two bags full of her stuff. Her stuff. Lucifer's eyes widened at the sight of them. It meant,

Lucifer: Lilith please, I beg of you don't go! Please! Lilith

He ran to her when she got to the doors. She stared him down as he stood in front of her exit; however, Lucifer could only stare up with tears starting to stream out onto his pale cheeks.

Lucifer: Lilith...please my darling I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong.

Lucifer then proceeded to do something he'd never thought he'd do in his lifetime due to the man's humungous pride and ego.

Beg

He fell on his knees, clasped his hands together, and begged for her to change her mind. Never did Lucifer ever felt so pathetic in his entire existence. He thought that it would get Lilith to at least think about doing something other than divorce. However, the thirty-eight-year-old singer had already made up her mind a long time ago.

Lilith: I'm sorry Lucifer, but I don't think you were ever meant to be mine.

With that she stepped aside, threw open the doors of their large, grand home and walked out. Never to step inside her former home again. All while Lucifer kneeled on the ground in total despair. It was only when he heard a car engine turning on did, he turn around and saw Lilith pull out of the driveway with her purple convertible and proceed to drive away did he close the door behind him to let out the anguish sob that had built up in his throat.

--

(Two months later)

Lucifer felt like his life was slowly falling apart. Ever since Lilith left, she had been sending him papers and been talking through her lawyer to him. Lilith had been one the most shining aspects of his life. In the entirety of their marriage, he devoted to making her happy. Including to working hard to provide for the both of them. So that way she could work on her music career. He bought her anything she wished for; heck he'd buy her the greatest diamond in all the world to make her happy.

In the end he guessed it just wasn't enough. When she sent him the final paperwork to sign off on their divorce completely shut the once proud, strong man down. Lucifer hadn't been out of the house in weeks and had mostly been taking to moping around the house. Or just laying all day in his bed, not sleeping, just staring up the ceiling, wall, or even occasionally the tv in his room that he put on for white noise. He didn't even go to the office.

Which would have been worse if Lucifer wasn't the boss of his toy company. Even if lately, he's been having his brother/partner Mammon and his assistant Moxxine take care of his work for him. Speaking of family, his brothers, sisters, and even daughter had seen how bad his depression had been and wanted to help him. Especially his daughter Charlie, who went to her Uncle Ozzie and begged for her to find a way to make him feel better. Since him and Ozzie have been the closest out of all seven siblings. Oz had an idea, but he didn't know if it would work

Lucifer: A sex dungeon?!

Lucifer sat across from his brother in his living room while in his robe. Oz noticed he also had deep, dark bags underneath his eyes. His hair looked a bit oily, and he appeared to be growing some hair around his muzzle. However, despite his shaggy appearance his body was rigid, his stark blue eyes wide awake as he took in what his brother just suggested.

Ozzie: Hun, please I know this might seem a lot and too soon after...

Lucifer: I don't care about ugh her. Look Oz even if I wasn't hung up over losing my wife, I don't think it would be right to go to fucking prostitutes!

Ozzie: But that's the thing though I really think these girls or boys can help you, Luci!

Lucifer: How!? How in the hell can they help me!?

Ozzie: By helping you get over Lilith. If you're with one those bad guys down, there soon Lilith will be nothing more than a distant memory. Plus, I distinctly remembering you telling me about this one domniatrix porno you kept watching. You kept telling me how you wish you could be Lilith's naughty boy. Well now you can do that! Just you know not with her.

Lucifer: I told you about that. Since when?

Ozzie: Since that time at that barbeque back in July where you got drunk and confessed to me.

Lucifer must've been hard hammered drunk to have told his brother about that. Since usually Lucifer was extremely private when it came to what happened in his bedroom. The blond man opened his mouth to once again reject his brother's offer but then stopped to think about it. It had been so long since he'd been in the warmth of someone's arms in the bed. Even before Lilith left, she had been distant from him for quite some time.

It actually was the reason for Lucifer looking up on those sites in the first place. He knew no love would be with the person he'd be with; he still wanted to forget about his heartbreak. Even if it was for only one night. Taking a breath, he looked straight at his expecting brother and said,

Lucifer: Alright, I'll go.

[softquietsteadylove]

thenamesh has rotted my brain so much that 4th of july fireworks spooking my dog obviously made me think of how thena would probably get spooked by them too — so of course i had to bring it to you as a prompt! maybe featuring our sweet jack and some comfort?

Thena squinted as yet another firework went off. Terrible, incessant things, she thought. They were loud and made a mess. But ever since their conception - for which they had all been present - humans loved them.

They had declined to attend the show at its source, mostly out of consideration for the Eternals and their heightened senses. Thena, especially, although she did offer to attend for Jack's sake.

In years past, Phastos and Ben had taken Jack to all of the typical Fourth of July festivities, as Americans wishing to take part in the celebrations. They went to the parade, they attended things in the city or had backyard activities at their home for the neighbours. They had also declined that, this year.

It was determined to be too much, the possibility of strange kids running around and screaming with water guns and sparklers. Phastos and Gil did cook on the grill just for them. They had all attempted to lure Jack outside with the promise of baseball and soccer and football. But all day, Jack was busy inside making a fort.

By this time it was taking up most of the living room, constructed with couch cushions and the futon from Phastos' home office and plenty of pillows and blankets. It was somewhat hard to navigate, but Jack was adamant that it not be disturbed all weekend. Thena had defended his magnum opus.

Another one went off, and even Ben and Phastos admired the twinkle of it, each with a beer in hand. Ben looked around their chairs all lined up on their back deck to see the display at a distance. "Jack?"

Phastos shook his head. "He's still working on that fort."

"He's missing the show," Ben frowned.

Gil leaned forward in his own chair, mindful of Thena in his lap. "We told him it was starting, but he said it was almost ready."

"Ready for what?"

None of them knew. Phastos was especially put out that his son was seemingly over the childhood wonder and joy of the fireworks show. "This is how it starts. Next, he's gonna be in his room all day and night and we'll never see him except-"

"Habibi," Ben chided his husband, reaching over and rubbing his hand. "We have discussed this."

"Yeah," Phastos sighed heavily, though, taking another swig of light beer. "Just wait, he's eleven now, but he'll be thirteen before we even know it."

Thena pressed her ear more firmly against Gil's chest as another one burst in the air. She blinked rapidly at the red colour of this one. She was doing respectably well, though. She had the odd moment of swearing she could smell gunpowder and smoke, but she could still correct herself. They weren't witnessing the slaughter of Tenochtitlan, they were visiting their brother's family in America.

Gilgamesh ran his hand over her hair, whispering soft nothings to her to help her weather the storm. "You sure you wanna do this? Jack isn't even here."

As with most other things, she had agreed for Jack's sake. She was still overly conscious of potentially ruining any fun for him because of the gentility with which she needed to navigate human life. Of course she would deny it, but it did melt her heart completely every time he showed concern for her state of mind.

She gripped the lapel of Gil's shirt, but nodded with her head under his chin. "I'm sure he'll join us. If I go inside, he'll just offer to keep me company."

Gil chuckled, kissing her temple. She was right, and he knew she was.

Phastos looked at his watch, "well, if he doesn't get out here he might miss the end of it."

Thena lifted her head from Gil's chest. "It is odd for him to be so reclusive. I'll find him."

Gil let his hand trail down her back as she lifted herself from his embrace. "If he doesn't wanna come out, you two can have fun in there."

She smiled at him, letting their hands drag apart reluctantly.

"Sure, if she goes he'll come right out. If I do it, it's 'Dad, I'm busy!'."

Thena ignored her brother's lamenting over his child's growing independence. She slid the patio door closed behind her. "Jack?"

"In here!"

She walked into the living room, finding the lamps were on, illuminating the truly impressive sprawl of the fort. She tilted her head before bending at the waist. "Jack?"

"Aunt Thena, in here," he whispered, a hand sticking out just to wave.

She crouched down, bending her knees in her skirt so she could crawl into the small tunnel leading to his domain. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's finally ready!"

What was finally ready? Thena crawled on her hands and knees over the carpet and into the fort's main body. Never before - and never again - would she have to crawl like this. It was unbecoming of a warrior. But this was for her nephew.

"What do you think?"

It was actually quite remarkable. The far 'wall' actually was connected to the large window of the living room, offering a glimpse outside that looked in the direction of the city's epicentre. The rest of the fort was cushioned by thick blankets and using the plush structures of couches and chairs and automans.

"This is rather well done, Jack," she praised with a smile. He truly was a remarkable human--nothing short of brilliant, the son of the Fabricator Eternal.

"Here," he said gently, sitting himself on a pillow set up by the window. There was one beside him, which he patted for her. "The view is perfect."

"The view?"

But Jack was right. It was possible to see the more distant fireworks that were being displayed over the city harbour. They were more distant, therefore not as bright against the dark sky. And within the house, they were much quieter.

"Is this what you've been doing?" she asked as she watched the tiny but still beautiful display within the window.

He nodded, also watching, captivated. "Baba said there were two fireworks shows, this one just started."

She gave her young nephew a look, attempting to appear stern with his utterly adorable face. "Did you construct this just for me?"

"Well," he cast a sheepish glance to his sock feet, wiggling his toes and twisting his lips.

"Jack," she frowned. "You mustn't worry about me so much. You should be enjoying the fireworks with your fathers as intended."

He looked at her with big, pleading eyes, shrugging his shoulders. "But I can't have fun if I know you're scared."

She sighed. Such a sweet boy, with such a big, human heart. She put her hand on his head gently, not quite patting his head and not quite ruffling his hair. "It is not your place to quell my fears. And discomfort is not a fear."

He scooched a little closer to her pillow. "Can I tell you a secret?"

She nodded, leaning down for him to whisper to her, even within the protection of the fort. He moved her hair out of his way, his little hand feeling barely bigger than her ear.

"The fireworks are too loud for me, too. But I never wanted to say 'cause Dad and Baba like watching them."

She watched him sit back on his own pillow again. The thought crossed her mind if he was lying in order to spare her feelings, or her pride. But Jack wasn't a very good liar (she had seen him try to lie about reading comic books after bed time). "Is that so?"

He turned his attention back to the window. "We always go, ever since I was little. But it gets cold, and they're cool and all, but they kinda look the same except for the start and the end. And they're really loud if you're too close."

Thena looked away from the lights display to her brother's son. His maturity and knowledge of himself never ceased to impress her. She truly thought human children were less intelligent than this. Although it was possible Jack was an exception among human offspring. "And here I was, out there so that you wouldn't feel the need to stay inside with me."

He looked at her, illuminated by the far off show. "I like being inside with you."

She put her hand on his shoulder, allowing him to lean against her arm. "I like being inside with you too, Jack."

The boy went quiet, perhaps bashful of the quiet affection passing between them. But he made himself comfortable against her, as affectionately as a boy his age could allow.

She held back a laugh as she heard a small yawn escape him. "It has grown late."

"That's okay," he excused, although he was leaning more heavily on her by the second.

It was indeed late. The summer made the sun set so late that the fireworks couldn't start until rather close to Jack's bed time anyway. Thena moved her arm, allowing Jack to fold himself against her more comfortably. This was also something she never imagined herself doing as the Warrior Eternal. But as the boy's 'Aunt Thena', she would be quite capable of anything.

She continued watching the display, checking every few minutes if Jack's eyes were still open. Perhaps partway through the display, he was completely asleep. She ran her hand over his forehead, resolving not to move and disturb his sleep, no matter the cost.

[pseudowho]

Full

Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.

Warnings: 18+, relentlessly fluffy sex

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You were thoroughly fed-up. About as pregnant as you could possibly be, you spent your days in permanent tiredness; belly too heavy and round, and hips too sore to be comfortable in any position overnight, you knew your wonderful husband Kento would take the aches and pains from you if he could.

Lying in bed on your side, pillows wedged under your bump, between your legs, and behind your back, Kento reached a reassuring hand out to stroke your waist as you grumbled to yourself; a full hour in bed now and no chance at sleep. Holding your legs together to support your aching hips, you heaved yourself up sideways, feeling your bones and muscles creak in protest. With a lump in your throat and tears burning in your eyes, you sat on the side of the bed to gather yourself.

You heard the bed creak behind you, and soft footsteps padded round the bedroom towards you. Warm, large hands cupped your cheeks and temples, stroking you gently. You leaned forwards, resting your nose and lips against his lower tummy, nuzzling and planting soft kisses there.

"I'm sorry. You can't get any sleep with me thrashing around. I can go to the spare room if you like," you reassured Kento. You felt his disapproval rumble through his abdomen.

"Don't ever apologise. I'm sorry you're so uncomfortable. For what it's worth, you're doing an amazing job. Not long left, I'm sure. We can get you through it. I'll run you a bath."

You hummed your approval, his hand lingering in yours as he walked towards the bathroom. You heard various containers being clicked, and the bath water beginning to run, before Kento headed back to you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He grasped your hands and helped you to stand, before helping you to remove your pyjama bottoms.

You felt pathetic, useless, ugly, watching your gorgeous husband help you undress. As if reading your mind, he kissed his way playfully up your legs, blew a raspberry on your bump, and pulled you to him.

"You are just as lovely, if not lovelier than you've ever been. Watching you grow our baby has been a total delight and I want you to know that I still find you completely irresistible." You scoffed at him, dubious, puffy-ankled and tearful. He grasped your chin gently and pulled you to look up at him.

"I mean it," he said, voice low and so sincere you felt your eyes prick with tears. Sniffling, you rubbed your nose. "Come on. Your bath should be about ready."

Kento led you to the bath, and held your hands as you stepped in and lowered your body, sighing as the almost too hot water sank into your aching hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you lay back in the scented water, looking at your swollen breasts and belly rising like islands out of the water. Kento watched you fondly for a moment, before slipping away to the kitchen. You faintly heard the click of the kettle, and the clinking of mugs.

Eyes closed, and slowly inhaling the steam, you watched your belly roll and jump, as your baby tumbled inside it. Stroking your tummy, you didn't notice Kento returning with a cup of tea for you. He knelt by the side of the bath, chin on one arm, as he gently splashed water over your moving bump. When his heavy hand rested atop your bump, fingers tip-tapping, your baby stopped as if listening. Kento chuckled.

"Only moving for mama again? Hello, sweetie. We can't wait to meet you." A moment of still, before Kento received a pronounced thump against his fingers. Kento continued to softly brush water over your belly and breasts, watching you intently, utterly besotted, believing with absolute certainty that he would walk through fire for you and your unborn baby.

You felt Kento's eyes bore into you, and you shifted uncomfortably, still feeling like a shadow of yourself, body taken over by something wholly undesirable. However, judging by Kento's gradually darkening eyes as he scanned your body, wet and full, he certainly did not feel the same. You felt your heart squeeze as his fingertips grazed ever so lightly against your nipples, which instantly tightened and pebbled. Kento's mouth watered.

It hadn't been his intention to become so aroused by you. His sole priority had been your comfort, to make you feel good in your body, but he felt his pyjamas growing tighter and tighter as he watched your body in the water, a Romantic-era goddess who deserved to be awash in flowers and adoration. Biting his lip, Kento mentally shook himself off, not at all wanting to bother you with his desire, knowing you were uncomfortable and exhausted, until--

"Kento, I...feel like as much as I want you right now, I just...I--" you hesitated, stumbling on your words as he frowned lightly at you. You reached a hand over the lip of the bath to stroke his bare chest as you continued, "All I mean is, in my current state, there is nothing I could possibly do to make...to make me...an attractive experience for you." You finished weakly, your words falling flat as Kento's dark eyes continued to stare you down, now hungry and, apparently, stubbornly determined to prove you wrong.

Kento hummed to himself again, remaining, as always, a man of few words. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," he mused, "because all I see is the love of my life, beautifully wet, carrying my baby, in a body I can taste in my dreams, telling me she's undesirable, while it's all I can do not to lift you out of this bath and sink my tongue and cock into you until you're too busy calling my name to continue thinking something so ridiculous."

You bit your lip, thighs squeezing together as you felt a familiar heat pool between your legs. Kento leaned into you, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue into you and you gasped as he moaned at your taste. Without breaking contact with you, he reached down to the end of the bath, grabbing the shower head and adjusting its setting. You felt a warm water jet rush against your thighs, as he slowly raised it to the throbbing ache between your legs.

Your head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry and hands gripping the sides of the bath. The hot pulse of water on your aching clit hit you instantly and intensely, and Kento leaned half into the bath, taking your nipple between his teeth and holding your hips still with another hand. You whined and whimpered, hands tangling into Kento's hair, completely wordless with pleasure as he moved the shower head in small circles around your clit, licking your sore nipple.

Your tummy tightened almost painfully, as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, a violent one, overstimulated by the fierce rush of water and Kento's mouth on your sensitive nipples. Kento talked you through your pleasure, voice low and soft as velvet.

"Are you going to cum? I won't deny you. You've earned it. I'll make you fall apart a hundred times if that's what it takes for you to understand what you do to me." You gasped, hands furiously clutching his hair, his shoulders, his chest, your hip gripped tightly by him as you bucked and writhed in the water.

Kento pressed the showerhead firmly against your clit. "Cum," he ordered, and you shouted your pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a train, completely blinded by bliss, face screwed up and whimpering.

Throwing the showerhead aside and turning off the taps, Kento reached fully into the water and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, nose to nose with you before draping you onto your bed. Before you could protest about wet sheets, Kento dropped straight to his knees, bodily dragged your bum to the edge of the bed and placed your knees over his shoulders. You had barely a moment to gather your thoughts before Kento plunged his tongue between your folds and licked a fat stripe from entrance to clit.

You bucked, gasping, hypersensitive and senses on high alert. You craned your neck desperately as you felt Kento begin to suck on your clit, but were completely unable to see him past your bump. Your toes curled against his shoulder blades, hands reaching out, desperate to ground yourself with the pleasure overwhelming you, your second orgasm rapidly approaching, and you sobbed your pleasure into the dark warmth of your bedroom. As your hand reached down, Kento's hand reached up and his fingers laced with yours. You could have cried at the sweet intimacy of his thumb stroking your palm, as you came, crying out and twisting, calling Kento's name into the dark.

Kento lapped at you like a starving man, one hand already freeing his cock from the tight confines of his pyjamas. He couldn't help giving himself long strokes, squeezing at the tip and feeling pre-cum leak over his hand as his thumb swiped across his slit. He shivered, involuntarily groaning into your pussy, and he felt your thighs twitch around his head at the vibrations. By this point, he knew you could barely see straight, panting and gripping his hand, your anchor in the mist.

The thought of you writhing with pleasure above him spurred him on further, and, reluctantly letting go of his desperate length, he pressed two fingers deep inside your pussy, wet and fluttering, instantly able to locate the spongy spot inside you which would send you over the edge again.

You were a mess at this point, tears of overstimulation streaking down into your ears, gripping Kento's hand like a lifeline. You hadn't allowed him to pleasure you like this for weeks, feeling like your body didn't belong to you anymore, and guilty towards your unborn baby for feeling this way. So long had passed that you hadn't realised how desperately you had craved Kento while denying him and yourself.

"Please Kento I can't-- can't--" you babbled, completely incapable of stringing a sentence together. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly again, and you felt his fingers curl up inside you as his tongue flicked practiced circles over you.

Feeling your pussy clench around him again, and you whimpering weakly, thighs shaking around his head, Kento felt his thighs now sticky with his own precum. Squeezing the base of his cock as he gently brought you down from your high, he nuzzled at your thighs, planting light kisses and soft words of adoration. Kento tried to pant quietly, still unwilling to chase his own needs with your body, as long as you were sated and in full knowledge that he adored you still.

Kento felt his hand being tugged by you, insistently.

"Get up here. I'm not done with you." As Kento's face appeared above your bump, nose and chin glistening with your essence, you blushed at the mischievous look in his eyes. He crawled up the bed, hovering over you, caging you in, all broad planes of muscle and protection.

"Do you want to...I mean, I'm just happy if you're happy..." Kento stopped as you placed a finger on his lips.

"Just...help me flip over." Kento growled lowly in approval, and flipped you over onto your knees with ease. He reached up the bed to place pillows around and underneath you, until your bump was supported and your bum arched beautifully towards him. He ran his tongue languidly along the exaggerated 'S' of your back, before placing a playful nip on your bottom. You squeaked and waggled your bum at him, and he placed a firm slap on one cheek as you giggled. Warmth spread through him, delighted by your happiness.

Kento lazily fingered your folds, so wet and inviting, and you sighed, pressing back into his hands. He dipped one finger inside you again, using your wetness to lubricate his cock as he continued to pump himself at the view of you, so open and inviting before him. He leaned around you, caging you in again, now from behind, and you felt so deliciously vulnerable.

His voice, slow and sultry, rumbled through your ear; "let me know if I'm hurting you."

With no further warning, you felt every inch of Kento sheath within you, your swollen pussy sensitive and clenching instantly, and it took all of Kento's restraint not to cum right there. Holding your hips tightly against his, his head rolled back in bliss and he sighed deeply, grunting as he pulled out and sharply thrust back into you again, relishing your squeaks and gasps.

Kento wanted to hold himself back, but, desperate to show you exactly how desirable he found you, his hips took on a life of their own, slamming repeatedly into you. He groaned and panted, eyes fixed on where his cock sunk into you, watching your wetness coat his thighs until the room was filled with wet slaps and guttural moans. You had given yourself over to him completely, and lay prone, back arched and arse in the air, relishing in the deep aching pleasure of being utterly railed by the man who treated you like a captured goddess.

Kento felt so guilty that having only been pleasured by his own hand for weeks, through no fault of your own, he chased his orgasm like a needy virgin. Wordlessly, he arched over you like an animal, forearms caging your head. As you sank your teeth into one forearm, kissing, licking and mewling, he felt cum shoot through his cock with little warning, gasping and shaking as he came, feeling his seed drip out around your folds, so much after so long, and he was lost in a haze of pleasure for what felt like minutes.

Catching himself before he collapsed down onto your back, Kento gripped you to him and flopped sideways, still inside you as he spooned you, teeth sinking into your shoulder with unashamed worship. His lower arm snaked under your neck to rub lazy circles on your breast, while his upper arm cradled your bump, holding you, never wanting to let you go.

"I love, revere and adore you," Kento intoned into your neck, "even more so now you're sacrificing so much to give me everything I ever dreamed of." You felt tears prick in your eyes, completely awash with his sincerity. "So please, don't ever think you're ugly to me. I will love your body and mind with every change. I celebrate it."

Planting gentle kisses to your temple, Kento moaned as he slipped out of you. Lifting you into bed, he grabbed a soft cloth from his drawer and placed it lovingly between your legs before arranging your pillows with the skill of an expert, and covering you with a dry blanket.

You began to feel sleep roll over you as Kento replaced the wet sheets. As you began to drift, feeling your baby tumble within you, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kento would love you, and your baby, through any and every storm along the way.

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I post this fic in celebration of being blissfully married to my own Nanami, in advance of the birth of my 3rd and final baby ✌️ Every woman deserves a Kento to worship her.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Accidentally Sleeping Together

♡ Genre: Fluff, suggestive ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader (Imagine the bunny on the right is Bakugou, afraid of you waking up O-o)

Bakugou's arms curled tight around you, his sleepy fingers running across your skin rhythmically. It took his similarly sleepy brain a couple of seconds before he realized that this wasn't a beautiful dream.

This was real.

Bakugou leapt off you, his back slamming into his dorm wall. He rubbed the back of his head, swore several expletives at nothing in particular, and then assessed the damage.

You slept together last night. He didn't remember if it was an accident or if you two... did something, but his head was not 100% there yet in the morning.

You were even slower than him to wake, but he could see your figure rustling, and all he could think was "Crap, crap, crap, crap!" It was like he was pinned against the wall. Even if he had an easy exit route, he couldn't exactly walk out on you without proving his innocence first. Or making sure you were okay.

You finally opened your eyes, wiping them. Tentatively, Bakugou spoke.

"Hey, we need to--"

You shrieked and Bakugou cringed from the noise. You sat upright, whipping your head around like it was on a swivel, pure shock on your cute little face. Bakugou was the same amount of scared, but unlike you he was frozen.

"What did we do?!" you cried.

"I don't know!"

"Did we sleep together?!"

"I don't fucking know!"

Bakugou's heart was racing. The fact that you even considered sleeping with him as a possible event within this point of space and time just totally befuddled him. If this whole ordeal didn't screw over his chances with you, then his stupidly hopeful heart could take this as a good sign.

He chose his next words very carefully.

"Did we?" he asked, a little eyebrow cocked and his voice low.

You stared at him, the gears turning in your adorable thoughtless head. He wondered what things you were thinking right now. Your face was normally pure and innocent and cute, but your mind was typically evil and mischievous and always thinking of ways to prank and tease him, so it was hard to say what was happening in there at this exact moment. But being your best friend and all, he had some ideas of what you were probably thinking of.

He shouldn't be focusing on that right now though. Although you didn't look uncomfortable or creeped out, you were the type of person who'd struggle to voice your negative thoughts in a time like this. And as your best friend, Bakugou had to make sure you were okay. It was like, his calling in life.

"You alright?" he asked, snapping you out of your reverie. "I would never take advantage of you. You know that, right?"

"I know," you said, almost immediately. Bakugou was a little proud of your trust and your strong connection together.

"Are you okay?" he asked, again.

"Yeah, I'm okie dokie... Are you?"

You reached out to his face and he realized he had been blushing for some time now.

"I'm sorry," you said. "Did I scare you? Did I sleep here on accident? Can't believe I crashed in your room..."

"Don't apologize to me! Jeez. You're always apologizing to other people. I'm fine. I would never be creeped out by you. In fact, you've almost fucking dozed off here a couple of times in the past. You just don't remember 'cause I carried you back each time." That last part was a bit of a brag.

"Oh?" you cocked your head. "But you didn't tonight. Guess you were too much of a lazy little sleepy head yesterday."

"No more than you!"

That was how you both ended up grinning at each other, faces too close and somewhat red, but happy all the same.

If you weren't uncomfortable, if you were even smiling at him, Bakugou wanted to push things further. Your lips were only several centimeters away, and he wanted to close the distance. But he couldn't risk it unless he knew for sure you'd want him to.

"Had a good sleep, then?" he asked, voice rumbly and still low while his smirk never left his face. "After all, it's my bed."

"I would've, but maybe someone was hogging all the sheets." You mock glared at him, but you didn't back away.

"Well I bought them," he retorted. "Didn't think I'd get a new roommate tonight."

"Maybe I'll just steal your bed and then we won't have a problem."

"You're gonna steal my bed with me in it?"

You lightly slapped his chest and he laughed. You were laughing too, but dammit even if it was funny, he wasn't entirely joking...

Still, he couldn't say he was unhappy.

"Seriously can't fucking believe I woke up to you today," he said, letting some of his true adoration for you spread across his face. "Next time you sleep here, I'm not carrying you back..."

While he still had the chance, he needed to push things further, so you'd understand where he really stood on this situation. Bakugou had enough of all the near-miss kisses in your relationship. He wanted more.

Your hands cupped his face and he stayed put, obediently.

"You won't need to," you whispered.

His fingers grabbed your chin. "I don't ever want to."

And with that, he kissed you, finally.

[miumura]

KISS ME, JUST SAY OH!

types of kisses with enhypen !

pairing bf!enhypen x gn!reader genre fluff, angst (if you squint), comfort, established relationship

warnings reader is crying in heeseungs, reader is sick in jays word count varies 0.3-0.5K+ per member ( 2997 words total )

📩 ‘ NOTE ’ in honor of enhypen’s cb, you know i had to write something related to the title track !! i love xo so this had to be done 😋 anyways, i do hope you enjoy ^^

HEESEUNG — top of the head kisses

top of the head kisses are just so cute i HAD to assign to heeseung because he actually fits it so well??? like he’d think top of the head kisses speak volumes of both love and comfort, which is something he’d often do.

Heeseung didn’t know what to do. He had rarely seen you cry, but there you were in the apartment with red, puffy eyes. As panicked as you were, he was probably even more worried. Seeing you try to quickly wipe your eyes and hide the reason for your tears broke his heart even more. Unsure if he was processing things correctly, he immediately went to wash his hands as he had just come back home, barely drying them as he hurried to have you in his embrace.

“Come here,” he said softly, getting onto the couch and extending his arms to you. You moved into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around you tightly. Heeseung didn’t pressure you to tell him what was wrong, understanding from the start that you didn’t want him to see you cry. He had just happened to come to your place early.

Instead of asking questions, he rubbed your back in soothing circles, offering his silent support as comfort, which you deeply appreciated. Even if he thought his gestures didn’t mean much, they meant the world to you. Being in his presence made you feel comfortable enough to finally let yourself cry while he continued to worry silently. He didn't want to overwhelm you, so he had to calm himself for your sake.

"I'm here for you," Heeseung murmured softly, his voice steady and reassuring. "You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Just know that I'm here."

It didn’t take long for you to finally spill everything to Heeseung, who listened attentively and offered comforting words and advice. His patience and understanding helped ease the burden you were carrying. After you finished, you thanked him quietly, remaining in his arms, enjoying the soothing silence together. His gentle back rubs relaxed you, and you found yourself slowly drifting into a daze.

Feeling safe and comfortable in his embrace was a comfort you couldn’t take for granted. Heeseung recognized this as a sign of your trust and appreciation, and he smiled softly to himself. He gently caressed your hair, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. Eventually, both of you drifted off to sleep together, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence.

JAY — forehead kisses

ohhh i associate jay with forehead kisses so bad!! they are just so quick but sweet / intimate, so i can just imagine jay often giving forehead kisses. i feel like he would definitely view it as a special thing, so it’s something he just can’t pass on.

“I told you to take care of yourself, didn’t I?” Jay tsked, entering the room with medication and a wet towel. “Look at you now—in bed, sniffling and barely able to sit up properly.”

“Okay…but I don't usually get sick,” you sniffled, your nose running as you looked at Jay, who took a seat by your side.

“That’s still no excuse not to take care of yourself,” Jay sighed, reaching over to feel your forehead, frowning at the heat radiating from it. “Now you’re stuck with a fever.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to trouble you with your work today. I just had to—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Jay interrupted firmly. “I’m your boyfriend. I’d drop anything and everything to make sure you’re okay. I want to be someone you can reach out to without hesitation, alright?”

You nodded, managing a small smile at his reassurance. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Well, I can’t afford to get sick,” Jay smiled, reaching out for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze to make up for the lack of intimacy. “Who will take care of you if I do, hm?”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I wouldn’t want anyone to have this throbbing headache I have right now.”

Jay leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your forehead. He pressed a tender kiss to your feverish skin, lingering for a moment as if willing his strength into you. “You’ll get better soon,” he murmured against your skin. “Just rest and let me take care of you.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his kiss and the comfort it brought. “Thank you, Jay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “That was nice.”

“No need to thank me,” he replied softly, placing his hand back onto your forehead. “I just wanted you to know that I’m always here for you to give what you need. Now, let’s get you some medicine so you can rest and bring that fever down.”

He handed you the medication and helped you take it, his touch gentle and patient. The combination of the medication and your fever was already making you drowsy as Jay pulled the blanket over you.

“Before I sleep,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can I get another kiss?”

Jay chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re insatiable,” he teased, shaking his head slightly. He put and adjusted the damp towel on your forehead, making sure it was in place. “I’ll give you more kisses later. For now, rest and get better, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort and warmth from his presence. “Okay,” you whispered, your eyes growing heavier by the second. As you slipped into slumber, you felt a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, Jay’s silent promise that he would always be there for you.

JAKE — lip kisses

this guy is definitely super clingy, so there’s no way he’s going to be missing out on lip kisses!! he’s definitely the type to want several to be content 😭 OOUU i bet he’d even pout his way through to get them BUT honestly, he has super nice lips anyways so it would be hard to refuse in the first place 🙂‍↕️

“Come on, Jake, it was just a prank!” you kept trying to explain to your boyfriend, Jake, who was “angry” about the stunt you pulled on him today. “I didn’t mean to give you that huge of a fright!”

“That huge of a fright? It was bugs—and you know how much I hate bugs,” Jake said in disbelief, recalling the fake bug you had placed on the floor, getting the shivers just thinking about it again. “And you just watched me try to ask you for help to kill it, forcing me to ‘kill it’—only to place another near my foot! I almost passed out.”

“And you screamed so loud, saying there was now a family of bugs living in our house,” you said, now unable to hold back your laughter. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“You wouldn’t have said that if you didn’t know they were fake!” Jake protested, trying to sound stern but unable to hide the amusement creeping into his voice.

“Oh, come on, you have to admit it was a little funny,” you teased, still giggling at the memory.

Jake crossed his arms, trying to maintain a stern expression but failing to hide the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he said, feigning seriousness. “I seriously cannot forgive you.”

You tried pleading over and over again, trying to get Jake’s attention, but he remained unmoved, intentionally facing away every time you tried to get into his view. He was determined not to let you off easily.

“Jake, come on,” you begged, attempting to step into his line of sight once more. “I’ve said I’m sorry a million times!”

“That’s clearly not enough,” he pouted, crossing his arms once more. “I’m going to need more convincing.”

“Convincing? Like what? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, the hint of a mischievous grin on his face.

“Anything within reason,” you replied, eyeing him warily. “What do you have in mind? I don’t like that grin on your face…”

Jake pretended to think it over, tapping his chin theatrically. Then, in a swift move, he wrapped his arms around your waist, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. Before you could process what was happening, he began smothering you with kisses, making sure you couldn’t escape.

You tried to put up a “fight,” but Jake was persistent in getting what he believed was his revenge, or rather, his favor. He finally stopped by giving you one last kiss on the lips, pulling back with one of his dorky smiles, his arms still wrapped around you.

“Seriously—this is what you wanted?” you asked, breathless from the playful struggle.

Jake nodded, still grinning. “Yup, it was all part of my master plan,” he said, tightening his hold on you affectionately. “The only way to forgive you for that prank of yours.”

“Whatever,” you said with a roll of your eyes, but you couldn't help smiling. Your response elicited another giggle from him, and he leaned in to give you another kiss.

“I mean it,” Jake said softly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “I’ll forgive you for anything if it means I get to do this.”

SUNGHOON — hand kisses

i don’t think sunghoon would HATE showing intimacy, but i feel like he could be more awkward with it. he would still want to show some form of intimacy, so hand kisses would be the way to go! because, one, it’s pretty cute and, two, it’s easier for him to hide his face after doing something more romantic.

“Seriously, Sunghoon, that guy was just an old classmate of mine,” you reassured Sunghoon, who kept insisting that he didn't mind, but his slight pout proved otherwise. “I didn’t want to ruin the mood of our date—he just suddenly came over and wanted to chat.”

Sunghoon shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, but you could see the hint of jealousy in his eyes. “It’s fine, really,” he said, though his tone betrayed him.

You gently nudged him, smiling softly. “Come on, I could tell you weren’t thrilled about it. But I promise, it was nothing.”

He sighed, finally meeting your gaze. “Okay, maybe I was a little annoyed,” he admitted. “I just didn’t like how he was taking up your attention.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I think he didn’t know we were on a date, or even that we were dating.”

Sunghoon wasn’t too expressive with his intimacy, as it was something he was still trying to get used to. But the thought of you with that old classmate of yours only seemed to upset him more, and he wanted to do something about it. He really wanted to show that he loves you, even if he couldn’t always put it into words.

“I’ll work on it,” he said, grabbing your hand and placing a soft kiss on it. “So that people like him don’t interrupt our dates again.”

You smiled at his gesture, getting ready to tease him. “So you were jealous after all?”

“I was not,” he insisted.

“Hm, sure,” you said with a grin, watching as his face turned a shade of pink. “What can I do to get an actual kiss?”

“Don’t push it,” he said, trying to maintain his composure but unable to hide a small smile. He felt more relieved than he was earlier and was determined to work on giving you all the kisses you deserved.

Sunghoon glanced at you, a newfound confidence in his eyes. “I’ll get better at this, you know. At showing you how much you mean to me.”

“I know you will,” you said, returning back the same hand kiss that soon caught Sunghoon in another pink mess.

SUNOO — cheek kisses

CMONNN sunoo and cheek kisses have to be literal perfection. like they go hand to hand and they definitely suit sunoo very well. i could see him doing it quite often and wearing a big smile on his face while doing so. it’s pretty self explanatory as sunoo’s image & personality speaks for themselves ^^ i love him

“Can you even believe he would say something like that?” Sunoo exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and showing you a dramatically exaggerated facial expression. You nodded, trying to keep a straight face but soon smiling at him despite yourself—his “upset” expressions were just too cute.

“I know, right?” you replied, trying to match his enthusiasm. “The nerve of some people!”

Sunoo sighed, flopping down onto the couch beside you. “It’s just so frustrating sometimes,” he said, pouting a little. “I mean, who does he think he is?”

You chuckled, bringing him closer to you. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it in a bad way. But honestly, I love how expressive you get about these things.”

“What?” Sunoo asked, a little incredulous.

“I mean, you’re so cute,” you said with a smile, planting a couple of kisses on his cheek. “It’s hard to listen when you’re this adorable.”

“Were you even listening to me complain about him?!” Sunoo protested, trying to sound offended but failing to hide his amusement.

“Of course I was,” you assured him, grinning. “I just got a little distracted by how cute you are.”

He sighed dramatically, though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed.”

“Let’s go with flattered,” you teased, giving him one more kiss on the cheek. “Besides, you know I love listening to you.”

“Fine,” Sunoo conceded, finally breaking into a smile. “But, you know I can’t be the only one on the receiving end, right?”

You gave him a questioning look while his smile continued to grow wider. He soon cupped your face, planting a series of kisses on your cheek. Any memory of what he was complaining about was quickly forgotten as he focused entirely on showering you with attention instead.

Sunoo pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think you also need to be reminded of how adorable you can be, too.”

JUNGWON — neck kisses

i believe in clingy jwon 🙏 i feel like since he’s always around you, he’d probably do it subconsciously, oblivious to your reddened face until you say something about it. and if you didn’t say anything, i fully believe this man would continue to latch onto you and could stay that way forever … no complaints!

"It's been so long since I've seen you," Jungwon said, walking out of the bedroom and taking a seat at the counter. You hummed, chuckling as you continued cooking one of his favorite meals.

"It's only been a week," you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a smile.

Jungwon sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. “A week without our cuddle time—something you still haven’t given me.”

“Come on, you’re hungry. I have to cook you something, don’t I?” you laughed, shaking your head. “Let me finish, then we can eat and cuddle all you want.”

Jungwon pouted slightly, watching you with a mix of impatience and admiration. “You’re going to take a while…”

You glanced at him with a playful smile. “Patience, my love. You’ll get what you want very soon.”

You heard him hum in response as you continued focusing on the food you were preparing. But you should have known not to take his silence for granted. Before long, Jungwon came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

You felt his warmth against your back, and a smile spread across your face. “I told you, just a bit longer,” you said, still stirring the pot.

Jungwon rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “I know, but I couldn’t resist. Your cooking isn’t the only thing I missed.”

You laughed softly, turning your head slightly to look at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. He soon kissed your neck a couple of times, which made you giggle slightly as it was quite ticklish.

“Okay, stop,” you said, trying to suppress your laughter. “You’re going to make me mess up.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to see your face, a playful smile on his lips. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

You shook your head, smiling despite the slight disruption. “Just wait a little longer. The sooner I finish, the sooner we can cuddle.”

“Alright, I can wait,” Jungwon said, giving you one last gentle kiss near your collarbone. “I’m still going to hug you though.”

“Then what’s the point of waiting,” you chuckled. “Aren’t we practically cuddling right now?”

Jungwon grinned, resting his chin on your shoulder. “True, but it’s not quite the same as when we’re both settled on the couch together.”

You decided not to question him anymore, letting him hug you as you finished cooking. After all, you missed him a lot too and appreciated the closeness.

“Okay then, but no more neck kisses—that’s only going to distract me,” you said with a playful grin.

He tightened his embrace slightly, his breath warm against your neck. “I’ll take it,” he murmured. “I’m just happy to be close to you.”

NIKI — butterfly kisses

i feel like he would have to get used to showing intimacy so he would probably be a little awkward at first. i feel like butterfly kisses are something that suits his teasing tendencies so he does it to get your attention. sooner or later, butterfly kisses have just became something he does often, as he enjoys it and you find it cute as well.

“Ever heard of personal space, Niki?” you said angrily to the guy who had randomly plopped onto you on the couch. Niki just giggled, ignoring your protest, and you sighed, trying to continue watching your show on TV. You knew from experience that scolding him would only encourage him to push your buttons further, so you decided to let him do his thing. After all, he usually got bored and left you alone eventually.

But today, your lack of response seemed to annoy him, and he clearly wasn’t satisfied yet. As you kept your eyes glued to the TV screen, he secretly shifted his position, moving closer until his face was right in front of your neck. He planted his face in the crook of your neck and started fluttering his eyelashes against your skin, giving you butterfly kisses.

You squirmed, trying not to react but finding it increasingly difficult as the tickling sensation spread. “Niki, stop!” you laughed, unable to hold back any longer. “That tickles!”

He pulled back slightly, a mischievous grin on his face. “Finally, a reaction!” he declared triumphantly.

“I was trying to ignore you,” you said, swatting at him playfully. “But you’re way too persistent.”

“Of course I am,” Niki replied, sitting up with a satisfied smile. “I know how to get your attention.”

“Well, now that you have it, what do you want?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Niki leaned back against the couch, pretending to ponder the question. “Hmm, good question. I didn’t really think that far ahead.”

You shook your head, amused. “Typical Niki. You just wanted to annoy me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, laughing. “But also, I was thinking we could do something more fun than just sitting here watching TV.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious despite yourself.

Niki’s eyes lit up with excitement. “How about we go out for ice cream? My treat!”

You considered it for a moment, then nodded. “I thought you wanted a kiss or something,” you teased. “Alright, ice cream sounds good. But only if you promise not to bug me for the rest of the day.”

Niki chuckled, standing up from the couch. “A kiss would be nice too, but I guess I can settle for ice cream,” he said, giving you a playful wink. “And I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good,” you said, getting up to join him. “Because I need at least a few hours of peace.”

“Don’t worry,” Niki assured you, holding the door open. “I’ll keep my promise—as long as you don’t change your mind about that kiss.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you followed him out. “You never give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you.”

💬 — royalty is my song ☝️

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

[luveline]

I love love LOVE the writing you've done for Spencer Reid!!! I'm practically living off of it at this point. I was thinking since we All love Spencer wearing glasses, what if the roles were reversed and HE was the one getting flustered after seeing reader in glasses for the first time?

thank u!!

“Where is she?” 

Spencer doesn’t have to look to guess what ‘she’ Morgan is wondering after. “She texted. She woke up late.” 

“Late? Is that BAU approved?” Morgan asks.

“I think her phone is broken.” 

Emily shakes a hair tie down her hand. Morgan holds her compact mirror open for her. “She’s not the only one running late. I swear the night gets shorter every time I fall sleep.” She wrinkles her nose, collecting her hair into one hand behind her head, wrapping her tie around in an impressive, painful looking ponytail. Morgan passes her a comb. She neatens up her bangs. 

Spencer’s head finally lifts at the sound of your hasty entrance and following apologies, “I’m sorry, shit, oh, sorry. I’m really sorry, Anderson, I’ll make it up to you,” you say, hidden behind Anderson’s tall stature.

“That’s okay, L/N. Hey, what’s with the glasses?” 

Spencer squints, willing Anderson to move out of the way. “It’s a long story,” you say, shuffling past Anderson to hurry to the front of the bullpen. Spencer locks onto your face,. His hands fall into his lap. 

You’re wearing clear-rimmed glasses with metal legs that slip down your nose the closer you get, your makeup lighter than usual, and your clothes a repeat of what you wore yesterday, though he’s probably the only person who’d notice. He barely gives your rumpled blouse a second glance, too distracted by your hand, your fingers as you push the glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Is Hotch in yet?” you ask hopefully. 

“He’s been here since five,” Morgan tells you, double-taking when he spots your new accessory. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.” 

You raise a hand between you both to hide your face from his view. 

Spencer gets out of his chair. “I was really hoping he’d be late too,” you say, turning to Spencer with a gentle pout. “It’s like wishing to win the lottery, I guess.” 

Holy shit. He’s breaking a sweat. There’s heat gathering at the base of his neck, worse when you push the glasses up again, your eyes shiny and wide-pupiled behind them. “You’re wearing glasses,” Spencer says.

“Oh, I know, I kept that secret, huh? My left contact got all dried up and I figured I didn’t have time to mess around, so you’re forced to suffer me like this.” You put your hand bashfully under your chin, a cherub posing. “I look like an old lady.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“I do, I look aged.” You put your bag on the floor by his chair and brush your hands down your clothes. “Spencer, it’s hopeless. I look like I slept in it. Maybe my glasses are atrocious enough to distract everyone.” 

“They’re not atrocious, you look beautiful.”

He immediately breaks eye contact to stare at your shoulder. Why did I say that? he thinks. Why do I talk so much? Heat fills his cheeks in a matter of seconds, but he holds his breath rather than let it out, totally frozen. 

Emily’s laughing as you step forward, hand out to touch his arm. You tilt your head to one side and Jesus, he wasn’t lying, you make his heart stop just looking at you. “You think so?” you ask softly. 

You aren’t laughing. Spencer nods, a tight up and down. 

Your lips press together in a shy smile. 

“They’re both as bad as each other!” Emily whisper-shouts. 

“What’s the matter, Reid, cat got your tongue?” Morgan asks. 

You push your glasses up your nose again, still smiling to yourself, so Spencer doesn’t mind his humiliation. You don’t call yourself atrocious again. If anything, you glow.

[arc-misadventures]

A Schnee's Desire

Weiss: So, is alright of my team, and my friends stay here mom?

Willow: I don't mind, your father will no doubt work up a fuss, but he will not be here for the next week, so you should be just fine.

Weiss: That's amazing! I'll go tell them that they can stay.

Willow: Mind if I come with you? I want to know who is going to be staying here.

Weiss: Okay.

~~~

Weiss: Okay this is my partner, Ruby Rose.

Ruby: Hello! My name is Ruby! I'm Weiss's bestie for restie!

Weiss: Ahh?! Get off of me you dolt!

Willow: Ohh~! It's nice to see my daughter have a friend who's so close to her. Would you mind sharing a room with my daughter? There are not many spare bed rooms for all of you.

Weiss: Wait, w-w-what?!

Ruby: Whoo! Sleep over!

Weiss: Ahck?! Get off of me!

Willow: And, who are you two?

Blake: My name is, Blake Belladonna.

Yang: And, my name is Yang Xiao Long! This little gremlins older sister!

Ruby: Yang?!

Willow: And, you are a faunas? A cat faunas at that.

Blake: Is that a problem...?

Willow: Not to me, although... Jacques is allergic to cats... You being a cat faunas, would you perhaps trigger his allergies?

Blake: What, no that's...? Well... Could I...?

Yang: That's a serious question right there.

Blake: If he did have a reaction... how bad of a reaction would it be.

Willow: Not bad enough...

Blake: Dammit!

Willow: Do you two mind sharing a bed?

Yang: What?

Blake: Sharing a bed?

Willow: There are rooms, and spare beds, but not enough for each of you to have your own separate bed. I am sorry.

Yang: No, that shouldn't be a problem, right, Blake?

Blake: No, not a problem at all. Hey, Yang?

Yang: Yeah?

Blake: 'And, they were roommates.'

Ruby: 'My god they were roommates...'

Willow: What?

Weiss: Ignore them.

Willow: Very well then. And, who might you two be?

Nora: Hi! My name is, Nora! And, this is my potentiallover, Ren!

Ren: Hello, Mrs. Schnee.

Willow: Hello to you as. Do you two mind sharing a room, and a bed together?

Ren: Well, I don't...?!

Nora: IT'S FINE!

Willow: Oh?

Nora: It's totally fine if the two of use share a bed together~!

Willow: Is it..?

Ren: Uhhhh...?

Yang: Don't stop her, she needs this.

Willow: Okay...?

Willow: And, lastly we have... Oh? Hello~!

Jaune: Hello, Mrs. Schnee. My, name is, Jaune Arc.

Willow: Hello~! So, I have a bed you can use, so long as you don't mind some company~?

Jaune: Am I sharing a bed with your son?

Willow: No, no no not at all. I couldn't possibly ask my son to share his bed! But, I can assure you, the person in question wouldn't mind sharing their bed with you~!

Jaune: Oh well, if they won't mind, then neither do I!

Willow: I assure you, Jaune, I won't mind at all~! Now, why don't I show you to your room~!

Jaune: Why thank you, Mrs. Schnee!

Willow: Ara Ara, Jaune! Please, call me, Willow~!

Jaune: Okay then, Willow!

RWBYNR: ...?

Ruby: D-Did your mother just flirt with, Jaune?

Weiss: N-no she didn't....

Nora: She totally flirted with, Jaune!

Weiss: She did not!

Yang: Did you not see how she's draped all over him!

Weiss: No I didn't...!

Blake: She literally said, 'Ara Ara,' to him!

Weiss: You misheard her!

Whitely: Hello sister. I saw mother leading on of your friends to her bedroom. Why did she do that?

Weiss: W-What?

Ren: Weiss... it's time to face the truth...

Weiss: ...

Weiss: Oh gods... My mom is going to fuck, Jaune?!

Nora: It's totally the hair.

[maxtermind]

hello 👋 big congrats on hitting 3k ‼️👏🧨 i would request:

This is only, and only for the business deal. No more, no less.

That’s dangerous.

With Lewis, maybe sugar daddy or arranged marriage?

sending love 🫶

“this is only, and only for the business deal. no more, no less.” + “that's dangerous.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: in which your husband just can't sleep on the same bed as you because- well his sanity is at it's last thread till it snaps! ★:feat:: lewis hamilton x reader ★:genre:: v lil angst; too much smut

“I have nothing more to add.”

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as you stood across from Lewis in the lavish hotel room. Your patience was wearing thin, and his calm façade was pissing you off.

“You're insane if you think I’m just going to-” your words cut off when he abruptly stood up, eyes still staring intently at you.

Why did he even care where you spen the night? You would rather just book another hotel room than sleep on the sole bed while knowing your husband was a few feet away, sleeping on the couch, and not with you purposely.

“This is ridiculous,” you snapped when you found your voice again, your tone cutting through the silence. “I didn't sign up for this kind of treatment.”

Sure, that was a bit extreme. Given that he was always so polite, so prime, so perfect. God, was it a sin to expect him to lose it a bit? To not hold back when you clearly lost it whenever you were around him?

“And what kind of treatment is that, Y/N?” Lewis clenched his jaw, barely holding on to his… temper? “You cannot get another room to stay in, this is not-”

“I’m not sharing a room with you! I don’t give a fuck about what your investors think of us!” you retorted, throwing your arms above your head. “Thought this marriage was only for a business deal?!”

He took a step closer, his eyes darkening with frustration. “That's right. This is only, and only for the business deal. No more, no less.” Lewis’ eye twitched and you rejoiced internally at finally seeing a tiny part of him starting to crack.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, a mix of anger and something else— something you refused to acknowledge in his presence any further. “If that's all it is, then…”

Frankly, the words stung more than you wanted to admit to him and- yourself. You knew this marriage was arranged for the benefit of both your families' businesses, but hearing it out loud, especially from him, made it feel all the more real, and all the more painful.

Were you hoping for a different outcome? Not necessarily. It did hurt, though, when your ‘husband’ stepped onto any tiny flicker of hope you had with his ignorant comments. Why did he act like he didn’t fucking want you?

Because he really doesn't, your mind screamed, and as tears gathered in your eyes, you turned around to leave, but Lewis grabbed your arm, his grip firm but not painful, a desperate plea leaving his mouth. “Wait.”

You shook your head as he turned you around, hardening your gaze, your eyes challenging. His expression was a total contrast, softened with a hint of panic in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Please, don't go.”

“What?” You hesitated, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at his apology. But you weren't ready to let him off the hook so easily. “You can't keep saying things like that and expect everything to be fine, Lewis.”

Oh- what a sight it was, to see him close his eyes as he tried to get a check on his composure. “I know. I know, and I'm sorry. Just... stay.” He pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Please."

There was something in his voice, a vulnerability that you hadn't heard before. It made your resolve waver, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, your bodies pressed together. His lips found yours in a desperate kiss, all the pent-up frustration and longing pouring out in that single moment and you were taken back to say the least.

“Why do you do this?” you murmured against his lips, your voice shaking. “Why push me away when you know you want this too?”

“Because it's easier to pretend this is just a business deal.” Lewis's grip on you tightened, kissing you again as he sent shivers down your spine with his fingers snaking towards your sensitive parts. “It's easier to keep my distance than to admit how much I- fucking want you.”

“O-oh,” was all you could muster up, nodding but not even listening to him, before the words processed, and you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. “You are a pain to be married to.”

His eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. “I know. I just... I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his, nails digging into the back of his arms to show him you didn’t care. “But tonight, I want you to.”

“Fuck,” he grinned, biting on your earlobe as his hands roamed over your body, pulling at your clothes, and you let him, your own hands busy with his shirt. The next few moments were a blur of hurried movements and breathless kisses until you were both naked, the cool air of the room bringing goosebumps, or maybe that was just- Lewis, and how his bare skin felt against you.

Before you could savor the moment a bit more, your husband pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that made you shiver. He shamefully checked you out as you did the same,“You’re fucking beautiful.”

Lewis sucked in a breath when you pushed your hair behind, gracing him with the sight of your nipples standing out, just waiting- begging him to put his mouth on them and suck them. You decided to let him be and ran your gaze down his body, clenching around thin air when your eyes found his cock.

Your husband smirked as he loosely stroked himself once- twice then fuck- a third time, knowing you were rubbing your thighs subtly to relieve some of the pressure. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured as he climbed on top of you, his lips finding your neck.

He started trailing kisses down to your collarbone and then lower, mouth open, teeth hurting you just right. “Hmph! Lew-” You choked when he sucked on your nipple, lapping it up and wetting it like a starved man.

“You. Are. Perfect.” Lewis whispered against your skin, taking turns biting each nipple as your breath got caught in your throat. “Fucking hell.” His voice thick with desire, driving you absolutely mad.

You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair. “Baby- shit- please” His thumb immediately found your wet hole as he massaged around it when you thrusted up a bit. “Making a fucking mess, you dirty gir-”

Before he could carry on, your hand fumbled down to gather some of your slick before you rubbed it against his length, your husband shuddering against you when he felt you cover him in your own juices.

He moved lower, back to kissing your neck as his knees gave out and his weight fell on your arms. You gasped as his finger flicked upwards, towards your bundle of nerves, he was finally giving you everything you ever wanted, his thumb working you with a skill that left you breathless.

“Lewis- I’m.. I…” You choked out, barely before you figured out what he was drawing on your clit, your hand loosening the grip you had on his twitching- leaking cock. L-E-W-I-S, he kept on drawing this pattern, rendering you absolutely helpless under him.

Your hands found his back, nails probably drawing blood, holding him in place as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. “Cum for me messy girl,” You heard him groan before he took your nipple in his mouth again.

“Fuck- Lew! Shit.” You craned your neck to look down at him, catching his other hand wrapped around his length. His angry tip leaking pre-cum that he was rubbing to stroke himself, his grip tight on his cock.

The thought of your juices mixing together on his cock had you cumming immediately with a staggered moan of his name, your body shuddering with pleasure, he was right there with you, his eyes never leaving your face, mesmerized.

Lewis moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. You could feel him pressing against you, hard and ready, and you wrapped your arm around him, pulling him closer. “I’m here, baby. Such a fucking good girl for me.”

He entered you in one swift movement, a gasp escaping your lips at the sensation, he was so fucking big. Your husband stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath, obviously it had been too long since you both did it.

This was the moment when you realized that all those nights you spent worrying whether he had a mistress were utterly useless because the way your man looked seconds away from cumming just by being inside you for a single second?

“I've wanted this for so long,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion and the softness doing something very ugly to your heart. “I’m afraid it’ll end too soon.”

“Me too, Lewis. Me too.” You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Your husband’s cock twitched again and you gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he started to move.

It was slow at first, your soft walls wrapping against every single vein of his cock. “Fuck- I’m- hngh!” Lewis was so gone, eyes closed before he increased his pace. “Shit!” he hissed not believing he’s been missing out on this all this time just because he thought you wanted nothing to do with him.

“Never.. Oh my god- always everything! Lewis- wanted everything…” You trailed off but he got the gist of it. Still not realizing that he was not just thinking- he was saying everything out loud. His hands gripping your hips as he set a rhythm that had you screaming incoherently.

“You feel hah- so good,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear. “So perfect.”

You could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, the way he filled you, fuck he really was so big, felt bigger than he looked and the way his body moved against yours, was so perfect. It wouldn’t be delirious to say you thought you both were made to fit each other.

“We are,” your husband dragged out, voice hoarse and breaking. It was suddenly almost too much, and yet not enough. You needed more, and you told him as much, your voice a desperate plea,“Faster, Lewis. Please.”

Your husband responded by increasing his pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, driving you closer to the edge once again. “My beautiful- ah- Y/N! My w- wife.”

You realized he was cumming when you felt his whole body go stiff and a chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah,” fell from his mouth, his cum filling you to the brim. He came so much that the next time he tried to thrust his over-used, over-sensitive cock a little, your poor hole was so utterly slippery that he fell out.

For a moment, you lay there, tangled together, your bodies slick with sweat. And then he pulled away, his eyes searching yours after he was panting a bit less than few seconds before.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with something you couldn't quite place, you didn’t know how he still had his voice intact. “Did... Did you finish again?”

You shushed him before shaking your head, your hand reaching up to caress his cheek. “Not with you inside me.” He groaned at that as his hands squeezed your waist and his head fell right between your marked breasts. “I promise I last longer than this usually.”

His words made your heart beat faster, you made him like this, made him lost control, lost himself after he entered you like so absolutely that he just couldn’t help cumming despite wanting to last.

You tried to stop it but a chuckle escaped your mouth, which didn’t last long at all before he picked up your leg and in a second hooked it around his shoulder, leaning down to kiss your clit that was sensitive as hell, making you immediately gasp.

“I know just how to shut you up.”

And in that moment, as your hands tangled in the locks of his hair as you tried to ride his face, you knew this was something. Whatever this was, whatever it would become, you were in it together. No more ‘no more, no less,’ you guys were way beyond that at this point.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: wow i got carried away ngl but!! thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[queers-gambit]

Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Okay hear me out Jason Todd with a reader who passes out when she over exerts herself like at work or even being a vigilante and him just being protective and concerned like ahhh if you have any head canons or a Drabble but totally get if this isn’t your vibe to write or talk about 😊

To Look After You

Hi, nonnie! Enjoy! ~500 words

You were exhausted, running on fumes. Jason could tell. And he knew you knew he could tell.

"I just need to finish this up, Jason. I'll get some rest soon." You mutter, only half-focused on him, but he doesn't think you sound very convincing.

"Or," he drawls, arms crossed as he hovers by your side, ever concerned and wanting the best for you, "You could come to bed with me?"

You let out a noncommittal hum, and he taps his fingers against his arms. His eyes dart over you, the way you struggle to keep your head up, the way your eyes are fluttering, the dull, glazed stare you have. "Baby," he starts, "C'mon, enough is enough. You're running yourself ragged."

"I have to. You can go sleep, Jason. I'll be there soon." You murmur back, shoulders sagged and defeated.

He levels you with a look you don't see, "Yeah, okay, that's it."

You barely get a questioning 'hm' out before he's hooked one arm under your knees, wrapped the other around your back and lifted you to his chest.

"Jason!" You protest, squirming in his grip.

"Nuh uh, I don't think so, baby. You're going to take a nap with me, and then you're gonna shower and eat. Then, and only then, you can get back to work." He tells you, carrying you effortlessly down the hall and to your shared bedroom.

You slump in his grip, "I need to get it done."

"And you will," he promises, pushing the door open with his foot before gently placing you down on the bed, "after this nap."

You're already pushing off the bed and to your feet, "I'll nap after I finish–" your words cut off as you sway and pitch to the side.

Jason curses and says your name in the same breath, brow furrowing as he catches you by the waist, carefully propping you against him, "Hey, Hey, you okay?"

You open your mouth to answer, but your knees buckle instead, black dots dancing in your vision. He winces in sympathy and concern and eases you back onto the bed, "You're not okay. You're going to get some rest, and you're going to get it now." Jason tries to sound firm, but the worry and anxiety bleed through his tone.

"Maybe you're right," You mumble, eyes falling shut as you get comfortable against the pillows and blankets.

"Course I'm right," he mumbles right back, sliding under the covers and wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you against him, and you instinctively tangle your legs together, draping an arm over his side.

You both fall quiet for a moment, pressed together as you start to drift. Jason plays with the ends of your hair, eyes far away and thoughtful before he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, "Don't do that again, okay?" His voice is soft, affectionate, but still concerned.

You nod in response, voice heavy with sleep, "Sorry, Jason. Didn't mean to worry you."

He hums fondly, fingers leaving your hair to trace up and down your spine, "Get some sleep, pretty." The tension leaves his body when you nuzzle into him and kiss his shoulder.

Rest comes easy to both of you soon enough, it always does, when you're together, warm and close and safe. Jason knows he'll always take care of you, even at your worst, just as he knows you'll always take care of him.

[etanow]

Do you have any showtime monster labs headcanons? 👉🏻👈🏻☺️

OH BOY DO I HEHEHEHE

Caine was the last to realize Pomni was in his residency (He was,, otherwise preoccupied), and was absolutely flabbergasted that Jax did such a thing as raising the dead. Caine has a strict policy on not letting humans(dead or alive) that far down in the C&A facility unaccompanied considering how many monsters reside there.It was one of the few times anyone had seen him properly upset at something Jax had done. Pomni was rightfully freaked the fuck out at a giant pair of floating teeth and eyes saying he's a long-forgotten God, needless to say, their first introductions were confusing on both ends LOL

Understandably, Pomni has a LOT of issues with herself appearance-wise. She avoided mirrors for weeks, and tried her best to keep distant from the others. Caine didn't walk on eggshells around her like the others did as she adjusted and that was something she appreciated, at least provided a little sense of normalcy. He was easy to talk to and remembered EVERY little detail.

Caine can change his form at will, but Pomni prefers his big ol' toothy head because he said he was most comfortable appearing that way.

Everyone has their own unique smells; Zooble smells like brimstone, musk, and campfire, Jax always smells like hand sanitizer and chemicals that make your nose burn, Kinger like old earth and soil, Ragatha smells comforting like your favorite old plushie, and Gangle didn't have much but she liked occasionally putting perfume on her ribbons. But Pomni always has a hint of the smell of death following her. She tried Gangle's perfumes and all sorts of scented soaps but nothing could truly mask or make it go away. It was only when Caine gifted her a bouquet of flowers that the smell was almost forgotten. Hell, maybe the plague doctors with their floral and herb-filled masks were on to something. Since then, Caine often surprised Pomni with fresh flowers, herbs, and plants to the point of her shelves overflowing with vases and pots of flowers in all states. Eventually, she gets to pressing flowers between books as a memento for every flower he's given her.

.

Pomni sometimes needs blood transfusions as her body doesn't make blood anymore but still needs it- she hates needles. Caine and Ragatha alternate sitting with her during it since it can take a few hours at a time and distract her with books or idle chatter until it's done. Caine is an amazing storyteller, he's existed a long time as both a noncorporeal and corporeal being and has countless stories of battles and moments long lost to time. He hasn't really had anyone to share these stories with, and the only other being who was around during all of it, well he doesn't get the chance to talk with him much these days...

Ragatha and Pomni got together first, they spent a lot more time together in the beginning since Caine only popped in once or twice a week usually. He started hanging around longer after a while and I'm getting sidetracked now I'm just imagining Pomni bursting into Ragatha's room sobbing with a "I'M SO SORRY I JUST KISSED CAINE PLEASE FORGIVE ME-" And Ragatha doesn't miss a beat, totally unphased and unbothered, "Ooh nice! Was he any good?" And Pomni's just standing there like "Wait What"

They are all very bad at communication lmao but they're TRYING THEIR BEST OKAY

Caine is not used to the concept of resting, meanwhile, pretty much all Pomni does in her free time most days is nap or laze around- it took Caine a while to not see it as a waste of time and now loves it when Pomni rests her head in his lap. He likes playing with her hair and watching her sleep peacefully.

Pomni keeps her gloves on often because she doesn't like the sight of her skeletal fingers but absolutely MELTS with palm and backhand kisses.

Caine is very touchy-feely, he rubs backs when talking idly or loops arms together, floats a little closer, and matches their pace when walking together (even imitates walking itself with little bobs in time with whoever he's walking with). On some bad joint days, Pomni has a bit of a limp from her exposed bone leg and Pomni finds it absolutely hilarious when Caine unintentionally matches that movement.

Pomni misses facebook memes a lot :(

[hannieehaee]

content: husband!wonwoo, fluff, gender neutral reader, u guys are married, just a very tender night in bed shared with ur husband wonu (kill me), etc.

wc: 514

a/n: sorry this is so short T-T a cute night in his arms is the first thing that came to mind at the mention of husband wonwoo </3 god i want him so bad

masterlist

"do you remember the day i proposed?", he asked as he absentmindedly ran his hands up and down your back, holding you against his chest.

you were laying in bed together, dissecting each other's days as you allowed yourselves to relax after your respective grueling days. you matched his actions, allowing your hands to feel the warmth of his back as you dug them under his shirt, soft in your movements just like him.

you half snorted, "'remember'? it was only two years ago, nonu. i think about it all the time."

"yeah?", he smiled at this, repositioning you so that he could look into your eyes. he chuckled as you complained at the new distance, having been completely pressed up against him just moments ago.

"i was so nervous that day. i was terrified you were gonna say no," he revealed, shy smile adorning his face.

"really? why would i ever say no, nonu? you knew i was in love with you."

"yeah, but ... i dont know. never really imagined id get to marry the love of my life. i saw it in movies. i saw my parents, my grandparents. i saw people i knew. but i never thought it'd be me someday. it was only ever a dream. you made it a reality."

being married to wonwoo, you shouldve gotten used to his soft-spoken words by now. to the way he'd convey the sweetest of statements without even batting an eye. but you still found yourself affected by him, with your heart melting every time he unknowingly waxed poetic at you.

"nonu .. it was always a yes. you couldve asked me on day one and it wouldve been a yes."

"oh? you liked me that much?", now he was smirking, pulling you closer once again.

"shut up. you're hot, okay? i'm not stupid you're totally wife material."

"hah," he chuckled, "'wife?'"

"don't argue with me. you asked me to marry you."

he hummed, "yeah. and i'd do it again," he paused, "love waking up next to you every day. love holding you through the night even more. never knew how soundly i could sleep until i first held you in my arms."

there he was again. his words made you feel like you were floating, never being able to get used to the adoration he held for you. you couldnt help yourself when you wrapped yourself tighter around him, nuzzling your face into the warmth of the crook of his neck. he took the hint and held you even closer, making sure his arms trapped the entirety of you against him.

this had to be your favorite thing about being married to your husband. he'd loved and held you all throughout your relationship, but now that you were married, every time you were in his arms it felt like a promise. like he would keep you close to him no matter what happened.

"i love you."

"me more," he kissed the top of your head, chuckling at your whine in disagreement, "sleep, my love. let me hold you and never let go."

[morganski-19]

"I'm sorry, you're what," Gareth asks, stunned by what Eddie just said.

"I'm dating Steve." Eddie braces for the inevitable impact that is about to happen.

"Steve Harrington."

Jeff clears his throat. "Like, King Steve?"

"The Hair Harrington," Grant adds on.

"Are you out of your mind?"

Eddie sighs and lets his head fall into his hands. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you guys. I knew you would get stuck in who he was and not who he is now and start questioning things and trying to get me to break it off."

"Well, no, let's slow down," Jeff intervenes, holding his hand out to tell Gareth to shut up. "How long have you been dating?"

Eddie tilts his head to the side. "Officially, a month."

"A month," Gareth exclaims.

"Unofficially, four months."

"FOUR MONTHS." Gareth gets up from where he was sitting and does a lap around the garage.

"That's a long time to be unofficial," Grant adds, Jeff nodding along.

Gareth gets in Eddie's face. "How could you be seeing Steve Harrington for four months and not tell us."

"Because I knew you would act just like this!"

Jeff pulls Grant back by his vest and pushes him back into the chair. "How were you guys together for three months before you made it official."

"Probably because Steve was still sleeping around," Gareth mutters.

"Oh shut it, Gareth," Grant snaps.

"He wanted it to be official pretty much the moment it started, I was just too scared to do it."

Jeff walks over and places a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "But now you're not as scared right. Now it's good between you two."

Eddie can't help the smile that forms on his face. "Yeah, it is."

"But why him?" Gareth asks, clearly upset by this information. "You saw who he was in high school man. Friends with the people who made fun of us for fun. Total player. Cared more about his looks and reputation than anything else."

"Oh like you don't do the same thing," Grant ruffles Gareth's hard.

"Seriously, why him?"

"Cause for the first time when I ran away, he came looking for me."

Gareth gives him a blank stare. "What."

Eddie stands up, shaking his head. "You know me, can't have anything good. The moment people start to care about me, especially romantically, I run away. Can't handle it. Took Wayne long enough to get me in, but that's different. You guys kept coming back, but that was different too. No one who ever wanted me like that gave enough of a shit about me to come find me after I ran away. He did."

"Ed-"

"The first big fight we had, I thought it was over. He wanted something more and I was so sure I wasn't enough for him. That he was just going to realize down the road that I was nothing. So I started a fight, picked a nerve I knew would hit just right so that it would end right then and there. And I knew he would fight back, and he did. So I ran away, thinking that it was over. The next morning he came back and apologized, like he had anything to apologize for. He came after me. And kept doing it. He knew that I didn't mean it, that this was just a defense. For the first time, no one let me run away."

"Shit," Gareth exhales. "That's pretty great."

Jeff claps Eddie on the back. "Really great.

"Can we meet him, officially," Grant asks.

"Yeah sure, he's been asking about you guys. Wants to come to a show sometimes."

"I can't believe Steve Harrington is going to be one of our regulars."

Grant gasps. "Our first groupie."

"Oh my god, yes."

"Guys stop it, it's not that serious."

"Sounds pretty serious to me," Gareth gets up again and walks over to Eddie. "I'm sorry for judging him. If," he looks up and takes a deep breath. "If he makes you happy, then I guess he's ok. But I want to meet him and scare the shit out of him."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, good luck with that."

[pprodsuga]

while you were sleeping

summary: jay thinks he loves you best when the two of you are back together in the early hours of the morning.

notes: hi hi! totally messed up on my taglist and didn't realize i couldn't differentiate who wanted to sign up for what taglist. i'm sorry if i tagged you here and you only request my smau - please do let me know if you'd like to be removed and i'll rectify it, no hard feelings or questions asked! x

enjoy this short lil slice of life au

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

add yourself to my taglist !!

masterlist

When Jay looks down at your still figure after he’s awoken, he’s not surprised to see that you’re still sleeping. 

It’s endearing, the way your cheek is pressed against the side of his arm and the way your lips form a small pout. He’s impressed at the way the two of you have managed to somehow cling to each other in your slumber. Your hair’s rustled from a good night’s sleep and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up. 

Jay presses a chase kiss to your temple and refrains the urge to laugh at your stone-like figure, opting to swing himself over the bed and get ready for the day. He’s no stranger to late nights and early mornings; his sleeping schedule is far beyond the point of saving and he knows there’s no use staying in bed when he isn’t planning to sleep. 

When he emerges from the bathroom, you’re still sleeping in the same position you were when he first woke up. Jay looks at you from the foot of the bed and tilts his head as if he's inspecting you, and he might as well be with his laser focus on the subtle movement of your chest rising and falling against the soft mattress below you. 

It’s not every day he gets to wake up with no alarm and with you sleeping beside him. Jay savors days like this where all he worries about is what time to start cooking breakfast to the time when you wake up. But he knows you’ll subconsciously emerge from his bedroom when the smell of the meal he’s preparing begins to echo throughout the dorm rooms. That, he knows for sure. 

Like clockwork, Jay pulls the ingredients to make a simple, warm breakfast when he closes his bedroom door shut behind him. Jake is barely awake with Jungwon on the couch in the living room when Jay begins to scroll on his phone for recipe ideas with the ingredients they have in their fridge and pantry after a last minute shopping trip. Neither of the two boys acknowledge Jay’s presence beyond a slow nod, with Jungwon rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with no luck. 

Jay’s lucky, in a sense, that jetlag doesn’t affect him too much when he returns home. He’d love to think it’s because he’d rather fight his body to stay awake in order to spend time with you until he’s whisked away on another flight to a different country. Phone calls and texts are frequent between the two of you, but it’s never enough. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon join the others on the couch and Jay’s sure he must've woken up Sunoo with the accidental bang of metal bowls. Riki’s the last to emerge, appearing slightly more awake than the rest of his members, but all six of them sit wordlessly around the common area on their phones or watching the television. 

The best thing Jay can whip up is a simple American breakfast–pancakes, eggs, and bacon with fresh fruit on the side–from the groceries you had so graciously offered to buy before they returned home. Jay had told you to buy enough to cover one meal for the next morning to survive the massive jetlag all seven of them were about to experience, but you’d gone a step beyond and had replenished their fresh fruits and small desserts as a form of a welcome home gift. It feels comforting to eat strawberries in the comfort of his own home as opposed to tasting it on extravagant cakes in some European city he’ll return to only for work. 

“Smells good,” is the only thing Heeseung says before gulping down a large glass of water. His voice is hoarse from the months spent on tour and promotions, and Jay knows how tired the eldest must be if he isn’t willing to crack a joke or two. 

Jay takes one look at his bedroom door to see that it’s still closed as he left it. He considers himself wildly lucky to have someone as compassionate and as kind as you in his life; his career path leaves little room for mistakes and the culture around dating as a public figure leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks about the beginning of your relationship. Jay doesn’t enjoy hiding you, nor does he like the fact that he isn’t free to talk about you without a moment’s notice. But you reel him in and you’re the one who reminds Jay that the world doesn’t need to know about your relationship in order for it to be real. 

Still, he thinks he asks too much of you when he kisses you in a secluded area of the airport or when he has to rush you backstage before his shows begin. 

Jay is sure the fans pick up on his changed behavior. He’s hesitant to hold hands with people he meets unless they ask him to. He ignores fan-made signs with flirtatious comments out of respect for your relationship. It irks him when journalists ask the group about their respective love lives because he can’t talk about you. Jay talks like he knows a thing or two about a thing or two, and he tries to ignore the comments on his livestreams when he converses a little too much about the meaning of love and happiness. 

His favorite moments with you are when he gets to walk around the city with a mask on his face and his hand in yours. For just a day, he can be a regular person on the streets of Seoul parading around the love he has for the person he’d love to call his life partner someday. He can make you flush in public and say things in your ear that’ll make you grab his arm just a little tighter. Jay can pretend he’s a normal twenty-year-old-something navigating his first serious relationship with the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. 

But he also loves it when you get to travel with him and watch him perform from the crowd in a country you’ve always wanted to visit. You always insist on it and he does his best to reserve a spot for you where you’ll be able to experience his concert like the dedicated fan that you are. He loves that you meet him backstage just moments before the encore, too, and he loves when you give him a short kiss before he’s wanted back onstage to say one final goodbye to an adoring crowd that chants his name at any given moment. Jay’s proud of his work and he’s elated to know you’re proud of it too. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears his bedroom door creak open, after he’s put the last pancake on your stack and as he pulls the bacon to fry. Jay looks behind him temporarily, your sleepy figure wrapped in a throw blanket approaching him with a blank stare as if you haven’t had a single thought in days. 

You look cute like that. 

“Morning,” you mumble into his back with your face pressed against the fabric and your arms around his middle. You leave room enough for Jay to maneuver without having to pry your arms off of him. 

“Hi, sleepy girl.” Jay moves his head and kisses the part of your head he can reach before shifting his focus to the task at hand. “Sleep well?” 

“Like a baby.” He hears you yawn. “But you were gone when I woke up.”

“Somebody needs to feed you,” Jay chides with a smile on his face. He feels you return his smile against his back. 

“Whatever you’re cooking smells really good, baby.” 

Jay thinks he might combust with the extra squeeze you give him. It’s been nearly three months since he was able to feel you cling onto him like this. 

“Oh, yeah? I picked up a few tricks from the hotel’s chef while I was abroad.”

“Like what?” 

“I shouldn’t turn the heat up too high when cooking thin meat like bacon and scrambled eggs have better texture when you leave it sitting for a few minutes.”

“I love having a personal chef.” 

Jay chuckles deeply. You press a long kiss to his back and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. 

“Almost done,” he promises, dropping the last bit of bacon for the two of you onto a plate before turning the head off. 

“Oh shit, that bacon smells so good.” 

Sunghoon emerges from behind him and eyes the meat that’s still steaming underneath the kitchen light. Jay swats his hand when it gets too close to the bacon, but he inevitably draws the attention of the other members who are now more awake than they were twenty minutes ago. 

“Those pancakes look good,” Riki comments. You’ve let go of your boyfriend by now, who is actively trying to pull away the breakfast he’s made for just the two of you.

“Yah,” Jay says. “You guys can make your own breakfast. This one’s for me and my girl.” 

“But it smells so good and I might die of hunger,” Jungwon dramatically wines, stomach growling as if on cue. 

While Jay is bickering with Jake, who has taken it upon himself to scope through the fruit Jay has cut for you, you’ve stolen a decent-sized pancake and begin to tear it into pieces. You hand one to Riki, and then to Sunoo who has waited quietly behind the taller boy, and then to Jungwon, who looks at you as if you’ve saved him from starvation. The four of you munch on the sweet pancake while the other four boys begin to raise their voices until Sunghoon points at the four of you silently eating in front of them. 

“You wound me,” Sunghoon accuses you, hand dramatically clutching his chest when he realizes what you’ve done. “After all we’ve been through?” 

“They were hungry,” is your only defense. 

“This is preferential treatment,” Jake begins to argue with a pout.  

Heeseung’s busy putting pieces of bacon in his mouth the moment Jay looks away from the sizzling plate. It’s too late by the time the young chef realizes what’s happening. Before he knows it, half of the breakfast he’s dedicated his morning to cooking is in the stomachs of people he had not intended to feed. 

Jay looks at you with an apologetic smile despite knowing you were the one who instigated this predicament. Wordlessly, you pull the used metal bowl from the sink and rinse it before beginning to make more pancake batter. You silently coax Jay into frying up more bacon by bumping his hip with yours. 

Jungwon’s the first to thank you. He leans his head down to rest on your shoulder for a few seconds before Sunoo does the same to your other. They both leave as Riki tugs your shorter body into his from behind and lets his cheek rest against the crowd of your head, mumbling a quiet gratitude as you whisk the batter. 

Jay merely looks at you in awe after Riki detaches himself. You’re concentrating far too hard on not spilling the sweet mixture on the counter as the boys resume their time in the living room with Heeseung asking if any of them would like to play a video game while you two cook. 

“I love you,” he says before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

The kiss itself is over quicker than he’d like, but you look at him like he’s the only person in the room. 

“Come on,” you say, bumping your hip with his again. “We’ve got kids to feed.” 

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

taglist: @junsflow @jeongintwt @fantastichoagieuniversityhairdo @h4918ymc @justletmereadokay @makiswrld @ziakzing @who-tf-soddhi @baevsxii @en-dream @strawberrysavi @cloudyseokjinx @winuvs @2interrwonw @222.palesa @bubblytaetae @ariadores @shu-aa @Enhypensbestie @hyunjisungct @nxzz-skz.

so sorry to anyone who tumblr wont tag ):

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

note again in case you missed it: hi hi! totally messed up on my taglist and didn't realize i couldn't differentiate who wanted to sign up for what taglist. i'm sorry if i tagged you here and you only request my smau - please do let me know if you'd like to be removed and i'll rectify it, no hard feelings or questions asked! x

[silverzoomies]

Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.

I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter

Pancakes

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding

word count: 2,762

a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!

Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.

But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.

Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.

He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.

Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.

Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.

And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.

Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.

He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.

But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.

Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.

You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.

And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.

The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.

It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.

You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.

Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.

“Oh, it is so on.”

“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.

His teasing continues without warning.

You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.

He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.

During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.

The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.

You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.

Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.

And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.

His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.

“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.

You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.

An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.

Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.

Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.

The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.

“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”

His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.

Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.

“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.” 

“Honey, no-”

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”

Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.

“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.

A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.

Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.

He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.

Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.

Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.

“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.

He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Pietro, honey, please-"

He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.

His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.

The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.

Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.

“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”

The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.

Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.

Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.

You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared. 

You’re goddamn beautiful.