#is all about that sweet & cozy atmosphere :)

[poirott]

Hercule Poirot + festive

AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT (1989-2013)

[dmitriene]

all simon riley wants for christmas is you, tied up in a pretty bow, waiting for him all dolled up, your clothes are barely there, some skimpy thing that can be peeled, ripped away like a gift wrapping layer, to make it all easier, since you were waiting for this moment from the very start of the week, knowing that he should come home especially for holidays, and sure, there's a place for a present.

you asked him to stop at the grocery store to have time to prepare, and he agreed, the list was short and strained, a couple of drinks and snacks that you forgot for a perfect christmas dinner, everything so that you had time to hide next to the lush tree and turn off the light before simon arrived back, keys jiggling right outside the door, reverberating through the narrow hallway, as you still your breath.

simon was excited before, to finally return home, to celebrate the new year in a soothing, cozy atmosphere, with someone close, without loneliness, without disgust for this holiday, he did not even think about whether you prepared him a gift, because he did not give any hints, but opening the front door, and stretching out his hand with a bag of groceries towards the light switch, he lights up the living room, and you're right there.

with red, silky ribbon wrapped tight all around your curved body, digging in the supple skin, where it's ties in a neat bow right in front of you, your hands clasped behind, wrists looking at each other, hold together, and you can't really move, except fidgeting in place, a small, welcoming smile to your lips, as you watch the way simon's hands twitch, curling with whitening fingers, eyes fluttering from wide open to lidded heavily, and suddenly, the bags, and the dinner, are forgotten.

it's time to indulge in the gift you prepared to him, and simon wouldn't be able to stay away and wait for later, perhaps, he'd splay you out on the unfinished dining table for now, still not set for the dinner, except for the tablecloth, that will gladly soak all the slick that gushes out of your cunt, while he breaches a finger inside your soppy hole, walls pulsing, rippling at the intrusion, and you hiccup for more instantly, legs twitching, spread open by the ribbon.

your christmas would be all the night long, with your body sinking into the sagging mattress, cold, smooth skin work as a reprieve to your searing, scalding skin, warmed up by the spread warmth, burning up from between your limp thighs, as simon's hips snap forward, a steady roll, his cock long and thick enough to plunge against your spongy spot repeatedly, making you writhe and keen his name, a sweet, hiccuped melody.

simon holds you close, snuggled tight against his solid chest as his body juts forward with each thrust, broad hands sinking into the plushness of your body, tugging, holding tight and possessive, and you can only hide your blissed face in the juncture of his neck and stretched out shoulder, sobbing, breathing in the rough, rich smell of him, nails scrabbling across his back, wrists untied to let you touch him, while he enjoys his precious christmas gift, panting gritted praises.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[lilreidgirl]

So what?

Summary: You and Spencer seem to keep on ending up in the same position, you sitting on his lap. But it doesnt mean anything. Right?

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, lap sitting (like a lot), crying implied, smut/sex, getting hard, f-word 3x, doesn’t make much sense tbh, English is not my first language

WC: ~1k

A/N: sorry if this is confusing, I tried my best

If someone asked you what your favourite place on earth is, you’d probably say one of the usual answers like “my bed” or some special place with meaning in its history with you. But what was truly your favourite place to be, was Spencer Reid’s lap.

You were just friends, of course, no meaning behind it.

A BAU game night, organized by the one and only fantastic Penelope Garcia, was where you first ever found yourself in a position you never knew you would come to crave to be in so often. It was an evening filled with laughter, camaraderie, and endless games, all set in the cozy and inviting living room of Rossi’s expansive mansion. The atmosphere was light-hearted and warm while the sound of friendly banter echoed off the walls. The room was packed with a lively mix of BAU team members, the couch and seats occupied by various members of the team and the family and friends they had brought with them.

You arrived last, being greeted by yells and cheers and “hi!’s as soon as you entered the energy-filled room. Your eyes wandered around the room and the different permeated spaces to sit. Unsure of what to do, you settled on just resting in a kneeled down-position on the floor. Your body moved to the side of the coffee table, next to the couch where multiple of your colleagues sat. You started to lower yourself to the floor before a voice stopped you.

“You can just sit on my lap, you know…,” the familiar sweet, musical voice of Spencer Reid spoke, the hesitance and shyness, that he clearly felt, presenting on his face and in his tone. “It’s closer to the table and- um, probably more comfortable, no?” he asked rhetorically. “I really wouldn’t mind. We can play as a team.”

His words were whispered by his god awfully beautiful lips, just loud enough for you to hear clearly but not for the crowd around you to be able to catch what he was saying.

“Oh. Really?” You asked, the fact that it wasn’t the most usual offer from a friend and co-worker making you slightly doubtful if you should accept the suggestion he had made you.

“Yeah.” The space between his eyebrows scrunched together in a sincere way and you just really, really couldn’t turn his helpful gesture down. That would be rude of a friend, no?

You made the journey of a few measly steps that lay between the two of you in a matter of seconds and soon you mindfully and slowly sat down on his lap.

So what?

So what, you felt as if your heart had just beaten out of your throbbing chest and onto the table where the ongoing board game laid?

It didn’t mean anything.

So what, Spencer’s arms wrapped around your waist in a concerningly short fraction of a second, catching you completely off guard, the speed with which he moved almost unnerving, as if he had been anticipating the exact moment to pull you in for as long as he had been able to anticipate anything at all?

It didn’t mean anything.

So what, a month later you sat perched up on his lap, eating the takeout you both ordered, laughing about something you said, your eyes momentarily flicking up to see all the empty chairs surrounding Spencer’s dining table where you could have possibly sat but you somehow ended up on his lap yet again?

It didn’t mean anything.

So what, as you adjusted yourself on his legs, wanting a better view  of pitch perfect playing on the TV (courtesy of you forcing him to watch it) and you felt his body attentively tense and his big, calloused hands grip your hips so tight, you thought he might have been physically touching your hipbone?

It didn’t mean anything.

And it also had no meaning when, you felt a tiny nip on your ear a few moments later, something you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t had already been hyperaware because of the hard presence of something you had only pictured in your dreams, pressing against your ass.

So what?

And seriously so what, when you showed up at his apartment, your face damp and reddened from the hard day you had endured and without missing a beat, he immediately took your hand, his grip steady and warm, guiding you down gently into his lap as if he already knew exactly what you needed, and then, without a word, he settled back on the couch, pulling you into his chest with a tenderness that somehow made everything feel right again?

It didn’t mean anything.

And so what, you couldn't help but wonder how something so simple could feel so comforting, how his presence alone could soothe all the chaos swirling inside of you, and did it really matter that no words were needed, that his embrace spoke everything you were too tired to say, that just being held like this in the quiet of his living room felt like all the broken pieces of you were slowly starting to fall into place, as if nothing else in the world could possibly matter as much as this moment?

It didn’t mean anything.

So what, movie night every few weeks consistently included you resting your body on his thighs and your head on his shoulder while your warm blanket lay on both of your touching bodies as the TV flickered its light onto the both of you and the secure feeling of the moment made you want to melt into him and the memory of the time forever?

It didn’t mean anything.

So what, you woke up the mornings after movie nights with your body enveloped by his, your feet entangled together, neither of you knowing which of you had the freezing feet and which the warm ones, because the contact between you was enough to get the feeling of burning coursing through your entire bodies?

It didn’t mean anything...

So what, you slung your legs over his thighs, slumping against his body, finally relaxing a bit after an exhausting day that was probably also the best day of your life and he whispered, “You look absolutely gorgeous,” to you?

It didn’t mean anything.

And so fucking what, he then went on to remove your fairy tale-like wedding dress and fuck you into oblivion, as it should be the first time fucking you as your husband and you as his newly-wed wife?

Okay… maybe it did mean something.

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[littleprinces]

Day 6: Cheating Sex

Danielle x Male Reader

Day 6 Kinkvember

OC Reader

Tonight, I was meeting my best friend, Danielle, or Dani as we called her, at our favorite wine bar. As I stepped into the cozy atmosphere of the bar, I spotted Dani sitting at our usual table, her long chestnut hair cascading over her shoulders.

She looked up as I approached, her emerald eyes sparkling with warmth. "Hey, Jake" she said, her voice a soft melody. "You're right on time."

I smiled and sat down across from her. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied, signaling the waiter for a bottle of our favorite Pinot Noir. As we clinked glasses, Dani's eyes never left mine. "To us," she said, her voice laced with a hint of mischief.

The wine flowed smoothly, and so did our conversation. Dani talked about her latest art project, her hands gesturing passionately as she described her vision. I listened intently, her enthusiasm infectious. However, as the night wore on, the conversation took a more intimate turn.

"You know, Jake," Dani said, her voice dropping to a low purr, "sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we were more than just friends."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? And what makes you think about that?"

She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "Because sometimes, when you look at me, I see something more in your eyes. A hunger."

I chuckled, taking a sip of my wine. "You're playing with fire, Dani. We both know you have a boyfriend."

She shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "So? A girl can have a little fun, can't she?"

The air between us was charged with tension. Dani's hand reached out, lightly tracing the back of my hand. "I think we should explore this, Jake. Just once. What do you say?"

I looked at her, her eyes pleading, her lips parted slightly. I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards her. "Alright, Dani. Let's explore this."

Later that night, we found ourselves in my apartment. The mood was electric, the anticipation palpable. Dani stood in the middle of my living room, her eyes locked onto mine. "What do you want to do, Jake?" she whispered.

I stepped closer, my voice low and commanding. "I want to see you, Dani. All of you."

She bit her lip, a shiver running down her spine. "And what if I say no?"

I smirked, my hands reaching for the hem of her dress. "You won't."

Slowly, I lifted her dress, revealing her smooth, toned legs. My hands explored her thighs, her body responding to my touch. "You're so beautiful, Dani," I murmured, my hands moving up to her hips.

She moaned softly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Jake... I've never done anything like this before."

I smiled, my fingers moving to the zipper of her dress. "Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while."

The dress slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Dani stood before me in a black lace bra and thong, her body a symphony of curves. I reached out, cupping her breasts, my thumbs brushing against her nipples. She gasped, her body arching into my touch.

"You like that, don't you?" I growled, my voice laced with desire.

She nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Yes... yes, I do."

I guided her to the bedroom, my mouth finding hers in a passionate kiss. Our tongues danced, exploring each other's mouths. I could taste the wine on her lips, sweet and intoxicating.

Dani's hands fumbled with my shirt, pulling it off. I kicked off my shoes and pants, standing before her in just my boxers. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of me, her cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

I led her to the bed, pushing her gently onto her back. I began to kiss her, starting at her neck, working my way down to her collarbone, her shoulders, her chest. My mouth found her nipple, sucking and nibbling through the lace of her bra.

Dani moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair. "Jake... that feels so good."

I smiled against her skin, my hand moving to her other breast, pinching and rolling her nipple between my fingers. Her body writhed beneath me, her breath coming in short gasps.

I moved lower, my mouth finding the delicate skin of her stomach. My fingers hooked into the waistband of her thong, pulling it down slowly. Dani lifted her hips, helping me remove the last piece of clothing between us.

I settled between her legs, my mouth finding her pussy. She was already wet, her arousal coating my lips as I licked and sucked her clit. Dani's hips bucked, her hands gripping the sheets.

"Oh, God, Jake..." she moaned, her voice laced with pleasure. "That feels so good."

I continued to lavish attention on her clit, my fingers exploring her wetness. She was tight, her muscles clenching around my fingers as I slipped them inside her. I curled them, searching for that spot that would drive her wild.

Dani's moans grew louder, her body tensing as I brought her closer to the edge. "Jake... I'm going to come," she panted, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

I slowed my movements, letting her ride out the waves of pleasure. When she finally came down, she looked at me with dazed eyes. "That was... incredible."

I smiled, my cock throbbing with need. "And we're just getting started."

I positioned myself between her legs, my cock poised at her entrance. I looked into her eyes, a wicked grin on my face. "You ready for this, Dani?"

She nodded, her body trembling with anticipation. "Yes... yes, I'm ready."

I pushed inside her, her tightness enveloping me. We both moaned, our bodies adjusting to the new sensation. I started to move, slow and steady, letting her get used to the feel of me.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

Dani shook her head, her fingers digging into my back. "No... it feels full. So full."

I laughed, a low rumble in my chest. "Good. Because I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before."

I picked up the pace, my cock sliding in and out of her with ease. Dani's moans filled the room, her body moving in sync with mine. "Faster, Jake... harder," she begged.

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers. The sound of our bodies coming together filled the room, a symphony of flesh on flesh. Dani's nails raked down my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Yes... yes, like that... right there," she panted, her body tensing as another orgasm approached.

I could feel my own release building, my balls drawing up tight. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I reached between us, my fingers finding her clit. I rubbed it in tight circles, pushing her over the edge.

Dani screamed, her body convulsing as her orgasm washed over her. The sight of her coming undone was too much, and I followed her over the edge, my cock pulsing as I filled her with my cum.

We lay there, our bodies entwined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. Dani looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and surprise. "Wow, Jake... that was... amazing."

I smiled, my fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. "I told you I'd make it worth your while."

We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, our desires, and our limits. It was a night neither of us would ever forget.

[gghostwriter]

Whispered Truths

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 0.8k a/n: This is actually a request from @bloodredrubyrose and I really liked how this came out. I also used my favorite piece of fiction here as a prop so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Couples, no matter how new or old, tend to create personalized dates as a way to strengthen the relationship. Some go on hikes together, some go on travels, while some stay in the comfort of their homes—under a blanket with a chosen book on hand.

You and Spencer definitely fall under the latter category. It was quite obvious from the first meeting that literature would be one of the strongest bonding agents between you and him. After all, it was how you were brought together—crashing into one another at the library with books and miscellaneous items scattered on the tiled floor. A few shy glances and bewitching dates later, you found yourself spending your Saturday nights in the presence of your boyfriend of six months, hosting an exclusive reading club with just two members, you and him.

“I never thought of it that way,” your left hand paving an aimless path through Spencer’s curly hair while the other held the book up high.

The pitter patters of the rain outside softly echoed through the walls. You were propped up on the loveseat sofa, his head resting on your lap as he looked upwards in question in regards to your statement.

“Never thought of which?” His voice low and soft, striking a resemblance to how he gazed at you oh so lovingly. As if you were the most riveting piece if art he had ever laid his eyes upon.

“How water played a big symbol throughout the whole book. It was really focused on during the first chapters but I—I just never quite connected the dots,” you clarified, bring the book to a close.

It was your choice for the week, East of Eden by John Steinbeck—a modern classic and had been your favorite work of literature since high school. Spencer had lent his copy to you last week and you vice versa—both turning brown from age, pages about to fall apart from its binding, annotations scribbled on the margins and any lengthy self reflections written on various notebook pages sandwiched in between.

“Your explanation on the empty pages at the end—how water is capable of bringing both life and death. Water being essential for the crops but at the same time, drowned victims. It’s such a poignant note that I think I just fell more in love with Steinbeck’s writing,” you added. “It also made me realize how water in his novel represents the dual capacity of the human soul for good and evil. How we are all filled with conundrums and contradictions and what makes us different from the other species on Earth is our ability to choose whether we are good or evil—” Spencer had sat up and leaned in, interrupting your musings. “—what?” You breathed out as his lips hovered on yours.

The once cozy atmosphere quickly charged with tension and desire that seemed to ooze out of Spencer. There was little space in between and you had no doubt that from the outside looking in, it looked like he was kissing you but he was not, rather a sliver of air was still given space to pass through. So close but so far.

You studied his features up close. How his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings beating against the wind as his molten, darkened, hazel eyes flickered between your lips and eyes. How his nose lightly caressed yours in an endless Eskimo kiss. How his cheeks stained into a lighter shade of red. And how his pink tongue peeked out to wet his pillowy lips. 

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered as if it was some kind of national secret that he now felt right to expose.

Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time he had said it. His love for you had been conveyed with every touch, with every action, and with every silence but this was the first time he had put it into words.

His lips caressed yours—the pressure almost non-existent. A ghost of a kiss to gauge your reaction and consent.

“I love you,” he repeated a little louder this time, eyes locking into the very depths of your soul. “You and your mind have enchanted me since the beginning—so beautiful, so captivating.”

The butterflies set free in your stomach caused you to viscerally shiver in reaction.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

A smile graced his face and it was bright and as blinding as the sun, like it had finally decided to stop hiding behind the clouds and show itself in all of its glory.

He leaned in once more. The pressure from his lips now heavier and headier, trying to stamp his everlasting mark on you and in between all these kisses were whispers of his utter devotion and adoration until there was no more space—until you both became one on his loveseat sofa.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[citrusipop]

Pagtingin! . hyun-ju

" When I reveal my feelings I hope your opinion of me won't change When I confess my secrets I hope your opinion of me won't change " - patingin by ben&ben

in which . in which Hyun-ju comes back after the events of the game and she happens to bump into her partner who she left without an explanation.

cho hyun-ju x reader (fem) . angst/fluff

based off . ♡

Strolling through the busy streets, you stumbled upon your favorite café. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of coffee and vanilla, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Sweet bossa nova music played softly in the background, blending with the gentle hum of conversations. It was the perfect day to settle down and work in the cozy atmosphere of the café. After ordering your usual coffee and sweet treats, you made your way to a nearby table by the window.

Taking your seat, you gazed out at the bustling street. Sure, it might seem cliché to some—a solitary figure at a window seat in a café—but to you, it was a small joy. The window wasn’t just a pane of glass; it was a lens into the endless stories unfolding outside. Watching strangers go about their lives, you found yourself imagining their worlds. Two girls walked past in school uniforms—you guessed they were high schoolers, maybe around fourteen or fifteen. Your eyes followed a middle-aged man pedaling his bike, his neatly pressed office attire suggesting he worked in accounting or something similar.

It fascinated you how everyone’s lives were so different from your own. Each person outside that window carried a story you’d never fully know, lives that were nothing like yours—boring, miserable, yet oddly peaceful and happy in their own way. And for a moment, watching them, you felt connected to something bigger, as though their differences somehow brought you closer to understanding your own quiet existence.

Your thoughts suddenly come to an end when you hear a group of people laughing next to you. You wish you had your earbuds with you to drown out the sounds but the gods were against you and made you forget to bring it. Wallowing in your sadness, you heard a familiar laugh coming from the table next to you and it made your mind race, turning to the table next to you…

It was her. For a moment, you froze, your breath hitching in your chest. Oh, how you wished this was a dream—because it certainly felt like one. A dream so vivid, so achingly beautiful, that the thought of waking up filled you with dread. But it wasn’t a dream. The world around you blurred and faded, leaving only her, like the central figure in a watercolor painting.

And then you heard it, her laughter. That soft, melodic sound you thought you’d forgotten but never truly could. It was like a gentle breeze carrying fragments of your past, filling you with a bittersweet ache. That laughter brought you back to a time when everything felt lighter, simpler, and whole. Nostalgia crashed into you, raw and unrelenting, pulling at the corners of your heart.

You wanted to move, to say something, but all you could do was sit there, drinking in the moment. That sound, that sight of her—it was a warmth you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. And for just an instant, you allowed yourself to believe that this wasn’t just a fleeting memory or a trick of your longing mind but something real, something you could hold onto, even if only for a little while.

You hadn’t realized how long your gaze had been fixed on her until you noticed she was looking back at you. Her almond-shaped brown eyes met yours, locking you in place. She gave you a smile like before, but your mind drifted to how beautiful and ethereal she looked as the sun from the window embraced her figure. Her hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, the soft simple makeup making her look beautiful. You felt like you were seeing an angel for the first time, you felt like you were seeing her for the first time. And it made her heart skip a beat. You noticed how she excused herself to her friends and she was now making her way towards your table, quickly you moved your laptop and notepad away, your fingers running through your hair as you fixed it and made it look more presentable. 

“Hi…” Hyun-ju said shyly, looking right at you with a soft smile, you looked up from your notepad and gave her a tight smile. Awkward silence filled the air as the tall woman stood still in front of your table, you took notice and felt bad. You motioned your hand to the empty chair in front of you indicating that she can take that seat. Another set of awkward silence filled the coffee shop, the tension was so thick you felt as if coming to this cafe was a mistake. 

“You look beautiful today.”

The words hung in the air, soft but sincere, making Hyun-ju pause. Her eyes flickered to you, but you avoided her gaze, focusing instead on the cup in your hands. Still, the familiar warmth spread through her chest. Hearing you call her beautiful always meant the world to her. It was a reminder that you saw her, loved her, just as she was. Yet, the pang of guilt was unavoidable. She had walked away without a word, leaving behind questions that she still couldn’t answer.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes caught the faint smile tugging at your lips, and something shifted. A flicker of hope sparked within her, a fragile belief that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to mend what had been broken.

As if on cue, both of you started speaking at the same time, your voices overlapping awkwardly. You exchanged startled glances before bursting into quiet laughter, the sound breaking the tension between you. It was a silly, fleeting moment, but it carried a strange weight. For a second, it felt like you were teenagers again, stumbling through the nerves of a first date. Or perhaps it was just the awkwardness of two people who once knew each other so well, trying to find their footing again.

You stole another glance at Hyun-ju, and the sight of her hit you harder than you expected. The ache in your chest flared up, a sharp reminder of the emptiness her absence had left behind. No matter how much you had tried to fill that void, it had never worked. And now, sitting here with her, you couldn’t help but wonder if that missing piece had always been her.

But words refused to come. Your throat tightened, the lump there stubbornly blocking every thought, every feeling you wanted to voice. The two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down. Yet, in the quiet, there was something unbreakable—a connection that time and distance hadn’t erased.

You hear Hyun-ju clear her throat, you glance at her as she says, “I…I miss you, it’s been a while.” It made you smile a bit despite the hurt you were feeling inside, “I miss you too.” You said softly, as your thumb caresses the warm cup of coffee. You never felt this wave of emotions before, something so bittersweet. Sadness and hurt was evident on your face and Hyun-ju can clearly see it. 

Your teary eyes locked with hers. “Funny, isn’t it? It’s been five weeks. Five weeks since I last heard from you.” Your voice wavered, though you tried to mask it with a frown. “And now, here you are, showing up as if nothing happened.” The words came out colder than you intended, laced with the bitterness that had been festering in the void her absence left behind.

Hyun-ju stood frozen, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came. What could she even say? Would you believe her if she told you the truth? That she had been kidnapped, thrust into a series of deadly games because of her debts and her desperation to complete her transition? That she had watched countless lives end in horrifying ways, the weight of survival pressing down on her with every passing second?

You noticed the flicker of conflict in her expression, and it only fueled your frustration. “Look,” you said sharply, “if you don’t want to deal with this—us—it’s fine. Just say it.” Your voice cracked, but before you could say more, Hyun-ju cut you off.

“Y/N.” Her voice was firm, but there was a tremor in it. “I never said I didn’t want this. Or that I wanted it to be over. You mean too much to me.” Her gaze dropped, her voice softening. “You… you wouldn’t understand. That’s the problem.”

“Understand what, Hyun-ju?” you snapped, your frustration boiling over. “You can’t just show up and expect me to be okay after you disappeared without a word. No call, no text, nothing. Five weeks, Hyun-ju. Five.” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists, your voice growing harsher. “Do you know how hard I tried to find you? How much I worried? Don’t tell me I don’t understand when you’re not even telling me what I’m supposed to understand.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the fragile tension like a blade. You didn’t want to sound this harsh, but the hurt, confusion, and stress had built up too much to hold back. It wasn’t just the absence that hurt—it was the silence, the unanswered questions, the sense that she had left you in the dark without a second thought.

The tone of your voice cut through Hyun-ju’s heart more deeply than you could ever know. Her chest ached with guilt, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She had thought leaving without a word was the right thing to do—a way to protect you from the chaos of her life. But now, facing the consequences, she realized how wrong she had been. Immature. Thoughtless.

“I just…” Her voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore… that I’d be a disgrace to you, the way I am to everyone else.” Her words were soft, almost as if she was afraid of saying them out loud, afraid of the weight they carried.

Hearing her broke something in you. You had been so consumed by your own pain, your own confusion, that you hadn’t stopped to see hers. In that moment, you realized it wasn’t just you who had been hurting. She had been carrying her own burden of fear and self-doubt, silently tearing herself apart. And now, her vulnerability was laid bare, raw and trembling in front of you.

“You deserve someone better than me, Y/N,” Hyun-ju whispered, her voice trembling. “You can’t be in a relationship with someone like me—”

Before she could finish, you reached out, gently taking her soft, larger hand in yours. “Stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I don’t care, Hyun-ju. I don’t care about any of that.”

Your thumb gently traced small circles over her hand, grounding both of you in the moment. “I love you for who you are. Every part of you. To me, you’re perfect—the most beautiful woman in the world. And honestly, it amazes me every single day that you chose someone like me to be with you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you gave her a soft, heartfelt smile. It wasn’t just your words that spoke—it was the way you looked at her, as if she was the only person in the world who mattered. 

Hyun-ju let out a choked sob, gripping your hand tightly as if you might disappear. “I just… I thought that one day you’d wake up and realize you deserve someone better. That—That you’d see I’m not enough for you because I’m not perfect.” Her voice cracked as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “This body… this body that I’ve fought so hard for, it’s still not enough. People look at me and see a lie, a joke. I thought maybe one day you’d see me the same way, and it would break me, Y/N. It would destroy me.”

Her words came in waves, each one laced with years of pain and fear. “You deserve someone who doesn’t have to fight to exist. Someone who doesn’t carry the kind of baggage I do. I’ve seen the way people stare at us when we’re together. The way they judge you just for loving me. And I thought… maybe you’d get tired of it. Of me. Of always having to defend me, to fight for me. I thought you’d leave, and I didn’t think I’d survive it.”

Her voice grew softer, trembling as she continued. “You have no idea what it’s like… to constantly wonder if the people who love you will stop when they finally see you for who you really are.”

The raw vulnerability in her words cut through you like a knife. God, it pained you to see her like this. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and moved to her side. Kneeling down, you gently placed your fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she could meet your gaze.

“Oh, love,” you murmured, your voice soft yet steady. “I will never, ever leave you. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me?” You brushed away the tears streaming down her face, your touch gentle and reassuring. “You are enough, Hyun-ju. You’re more than enough. You’re the bravest woman I know. You’ve fought battles most people couldn’t even imagine, and you’ve come out stronger every time.”

You gave her a soft smile, hoping it could reach the cracks in her heart. “You’re my Hyun-ju. The one who fills my life with warmth and love. The one who makes those incredible meals so I don’t have to spend a dime eating out. And the one who makes me laugh when I don’t even think I can smile.”

Your thumb stroked her cheek as you looked into her tear-filled eyes. “I don’t care what the world thinks, or what anyone says. I see you, Hyun-ju. I love you. Every single part of you. And nothing, nothing will ever change that.”

In that moment, you weren’t just offering her words—you were offering her a piece of your soul, a promise that no matter what storms came your way, you would face them together.

“I love you, Hyun-ju. All of you. Your body, your personality—everything. I love you,” you whispered, your voice steady and filled with sincerity.

You leaned in slowly, giving her a moment to meet you halfway. As your lips met hers, the kiss was tender, a gentle melding of emotions rather than just a physical gesture. It was soft but full of meaning, as if you were pouring all the love, reassurance, and devotion you felt into that single moment.

Her lips trembled against yours, and you could feel the faint taste of salt from her tears, but neither of you pulled away. Instead, you cupped her face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the wet trails on her cheeks. She responded hesitantly at first, as though afraid to believe this was real, but then her hands found their way to your arms, holding onto you as though grounding herself in your presence.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, her breath mingling with yours. “You’re my everything, Hyun-ju,” you said softly, gazing into her tearful eyes. “Always.”

“I love you too.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “How about I buy you that favorite dessert of yours?” you offered, your voice light and filled with affection.

Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a reassuring squeeze before flashing her a smile—one of those rare, genuine smiles that you saved just for her. It was the kind of smile that spoke volumes, one that told her she was cherished, loved, and safe with you.

As you walked out of the café, your gaze lingered on Hyun-ju, unable to help but admire her once more. You silently thanked the gods for blessing you with such a wonderful partner, vowing to do anything for her.

a/n . i told myself I was going to make a part two of mesmerized but I honestly got kind of lazy...and this prompt I could not stop thinking about it. This is my first time writing angst since i'm more of a writer who loves writing tooth rottening fluff....LOL

[connorsui]

More than luxury - Sylus

Sylus x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Sylus, a man who has spent his life chasing luxury and success, finds himself increasingly disillusioned by the hollow comforts of his opulent lifestyle

Genre/Warnings: pure fluff, soft moments, longing, sylus wanting a comfort life with you, no warnings we die in marshmallows

Note: sylus got that money money...like ...billion ..type of money ...

Sylus had always been drawn to the finest things life had to offer. His days were filled with high-end cars, exclusive parties, and luxurious penthouses overlooking the city skyline. He’d spent years chasing after these things, convinced that they would bring him happiness. But now, sitting alone in his sleek apartment, surrounded by all the trappings of success, he felt a hollowness he couldn’t shake.

It was in those quiet moments when his thoughts would inevitably drift to you.

Your life couldn’t be more different from his. While he spent his nights at glittering events, you were in your kitchen, baking something sweet, the aroma filling your small but cozy apartment. You didn’t need much to be happy—a cup of tea, a good book, maybe a favorite movie playing in the background.

Sylus found himself captivated by the simplicity of your world. He often made excuses to visit—dropping by under the pretense of needing to discuss something trivial or offering to pick you up on his way home. But really, he was just desperate for a glimpse into the life you led.

He would linger in your apartment longer than necessary, pretending to be interested in whatever small talk you offered, but really, he was soaking in the atmosphere. There was something grounding about your space, something that made him feel more connected to the world, more at peace. He marveled at how you could find joy in the small things—a new recipe you wanted to try, a potted plant you’d picked up from the market, or the soft glow of string lights you’d hung across your window.

Sometimes, he’d catch himself lost in thought, imagining what it would be like to come home to you. To walk through the door after a long day and be greeted by the smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen, to hear your laughter as you told him about something silly that happened during your day. The idea of slipping into this routine, of being part of your world, was both foreign and deeply appealing to him.

He imagined helping you in the kitchen, albeit awkwardly, chopping vegetables under your patient guidance. The two of you would bump into each other, laugh at his lack of culinary skills, and eventually settle into a rhythm that felt easy and right. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he wanted—this kind of domestic bliss—but now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

When he was alone in his cold, modern apartment, the luxury he had once craved felt empty. The sleek, stainless steel appliances, the minimalist decor—they all seemed meaningless without you there to share them with. He found himself wondering when his priorities had shifted. When had he started longing for something more than just wealth and success?

Sylus didn’t have all the answers, but he knew that he wanted you to be a part of his life. More than that, he wanted to be a part of yours. He was willing to leave behind the life he had built if it meant he could have something real with you.

So the next time he saw you, he didn’t make an excuse to leave quickly. Instead, he stayed. He asked about your day, offered to help with dinner, and when you laughed at his clumsy attempts, he couldn’t help but smile. He felt like he was finally where he was meant to be.

And as you sat together at your small dining table, the two of you sharing a meal, Sylus realized that this—this simple, quiet moment—was worth more than all the luxury in the world.

Sylus shall live in my chamber of poor pillows

[playnextdoor]

dating modern abby headcannons

cw: both sfw and nsfw

Abby didn’t know naps could be a luxury until she met you. She was always on her feet, never stopping long enough to close her eyes for a "weak" 30 minutes. But now? That quick nap became her personal slice of heaven. Her cranky, sleep-deprived self would curl up next to you, her face buried in your neck. By the time she woke, she’d be all sunshine, grinning like she hadn’t just been grumbling an hour ago.

Sweet tooth!!!!!!! She loves sweets, especially dark chocolate. If you ever peek into her bedside drawer, you’ll find a nearly demolished chocolate bar waiting for her nightly ritual.

“What?” she says with a shrug, stuffing a square into her mouth. “I like a piece of chocolate before bed,” Her eyebrows furrow as she chews, eyeing you like you’re judging her life choices.

“Nothing,” you chuckle, watching her puffed cheeks work overtime. “I never met anyone who would do that.”

Her arms crossed immediately, mock-offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, Abigal, nothing, it’s cute.” You lean in, silencing her pout with a kiss, the faint bitterness of chocolate lingering on her lips.

Abby has a thing for books. Not just reading them—collecting them. We’re talking first editions, special releases, and rare overseas copies. This girl gets down. Her study practially a library, shelves nearly touching the ceiling filled with books, some on display and some in special casings. You even catch her one day, headphones blasting as she carefully and meticulously cleaned some of the books. The music was so opposite to what she was doing, her hands handling the covers so carefully. Instantly wet holyyyyyy

This goes with her being veryyyy clean and organized. It was so cute when you snooped in her drawers, her undergarments folded up so neatly in rows, and her socks in perfect little squares. 

She likes her space, which you understood very early in the relationship. Sometimes, the two of you would be on separate ends of the couch, her playing some game on the TV while you color in your coloring books, or when she would carve out days for the two of you and then days for just her. She loved you dearly, and it was just that she needed the only time to recharge.

Really into speakeasies. It’s her preferred place to grab a drink with you. The dim lighting, quiet atmosphere, and cozy corners make it her ideal date spot. She also likes sitting with you in some dimly lit corner, you more tipsy than her, laughing hysterically at some awful joke she said. If you really wanted to go to a club and shake ass, you bet Abby is going to take you, but she’s just gonna stand behind you like an awkward teenage boy getting grinded on for the first time.

This girl is not big on PDA, sorry not sorry. She’ll hold your hand, wrap her arm around you, maybe a kiss here and there, but she will most likely shy away from anything else, not that she’s embarrassed, she prefers to keep things just for you and her.

Food is Abby’s love language! Loves cooking, loves trying new places, loves eating, period. How else do you think she keeps her physique?

Speaking of muscles, the gym is practically her second home. She’s not a gym rat per se, but she’s got a solid routine, especially when it comes to upper body days. She loves how her arms look in T-shirts, but she loves that you love them even more.

Keys clanked into the trinket dish as Abby slipped off her shoes. Just getting back from the gym, all she is thinking about is going straight to the shower; once wet with sweat, her shirt feels disgusting on her. She sees you eyeing her from the kitchen, occasionally looking up from your phone, eyes lingering on her bulging arms; the pump did her good today because you’re ready to strip naked right there. She flashes a knowing smile as she puts her things away. She strides towards you, coming next to you to place a kiss on your head.

“How was the gym?” turning off your phone to provide her the full attention she most definitely deserved, hand creeping to caress the veins that littered down her forearms all the way up to the hard muscle on her bicep, squeezing it.

Abby just watches you, smile bitten back as you look almost in awe at how fucking massive her arms are, your sweet eyes meeting up to hers.

“Good,” she murmurs, watching your fascination. Her voice drops, low and teasing. “Something on your mind?”

“Mmm,” you hum, nails raking lightly over her back. She groans softly, and you know exactly where this is going.

nsfw

Boobs. Loves boobies. Likes to look at them, have them in her hands, in her mouth. Sure, she appreciates your ass—who wouldn’t? But there’s just something about slipping your nipple into her mouth, especially in those early morning hours. The sensation wakes you in a frenzy, loving how Abby does this for herself. Or when the two are cuddling, she’ll sometimes lay her face in them, the warmth of your scent lulling her to sleep.

Pronebone is her favorite position aside from missionary. Any time and any day, she is tightening the straps and fucking you into the mattress.

Speaking of tightening straps, the first time you did it, Abby nearly came, hips stuttering as she felt the firm tug of your hand tightening one of the straps that sat at her hip. Lord have mercyyy just thinking about how she would just pant above you, her golden hair cascading around your face like a curtain. Her hips moved against yours in a rhythm so devastatingly slow hnghhhhhhh

Stone top AT FIRST. She told you right before your first time together, you didn’t mind, genuinely. You have always been on both the receiving and giving end, so you were willing to be open for your girlfriend. And fuck how much it turned you on when Abby would slip a hand in her own pants as she ate you out, nearly heaving into you as you both came. It wasn't until a couple of months into the relationship that you asked.

Grinding down on her jean-clad thigh, the rough seam pressed perfectly against your cunt, drawing out a needy whimper that matched the low groans spilling from Abby’s lips. Her soft “mhm’s” spurred you on, the delicious friction pulling the two of you deeper.

Abby didn’t know what shifted in her—it might have been when you slid to your knees with a slow, deliberate grace, your nails dragging down her thighs. Her body moved instinctively, thighs spreading wide as if something had taken over her.

Or maybe it was when you pressed your cheek near where you needed her the most. Her hand came to caress your head, finding it so endearing how eager you had been all night, your fingers lingering for just a second longer, lips finding solace in her neck as you murmured how bad you needed her. She should have known you were going to beg eventually.

“Abby, please.”

You didn’t even need to elaborate, eyes were locked on the belt still fastened at her waist, the buckle catching the light and taunting you. Her own gaze, glossy and heavy with want, flickered down to meet yours.

Fuck. How could she possibly say no?

She can get rough if you would like, but she prefers to cuddlefuck than to fuck you upside down and sideways.

This goes back to the pronebone position, something you didn’t even know had a name until you tried explaining it to Abby in a very clumsy, very horny way. After that, Abby does it at least once when you guys have sex.

She’ll have your face down, your elbows digging into the bed as she fucked your leaking cunt with two thick fingers. Abby always took her time, kissing up the curve of your ass, her lips soft and warm against your heated skin. When she finally slipped her fingers out, you’d whimper in protest, only for her strong hands to press you further into the bed, spreading you open as her groan mingled with yours. The blanket so warm underneath you, mixing with the weight of her body and hands on you, have you in such a blissful haze.

“Yeah?” Abby asked, her voice low and breathless. You could barely process what she was saying, too lost in the feeling, but you nodded eagerly into the pillow, pushing your ass higher in response.

Chuckling, she sat perched on the backs of your thighs, holding you in place as she made your body tremble with anticipation. Sliding up and down with the tip of her black 6 1/2-inch faux cock it only makes you wiggle around impatiently. With a teasing pinch to your thigh to remind you to relax she finally shifts, pushing its length into you so slow you nearly grab it to put it in yourself. The stretch had your whimpers climbing into desperate, high-pitched cries muffled by the pillows. The pillows do what you need them to do because if you remove them, people will think someone is dying in there. Well, kind of, don't the french say orgasm means "tiny death"? Yeah that was happening.

Prefers if you orgasm first. She claims her own release isn't as satisfying when you don't.

“I dunno, Abby.”

The words escaped in a soft gasp as you abruptly sat up. Abby’s lips popped off your mound, glossy and parted, her wide eyes locking on yours in utter confusion. “I can’t…”

Her brows furrowed, her head tilting slightly as if to ask why in the world you’d stop her now. “Can’t what?” she asked, inching closer like she didn’t plan on letting you go anywhere.

“Cum,” you admitted, pushing her head away gently, though you both knew she wouldn’t take kindly to it.

Sure enough, she shook your hand off and gave you a look that could only be described as determined.

“Stop. Lay your ass down."

Before you could protest, she scoots you closer, which causes you to fall back into the mattress, her lips finding the inside of your thighs, skin slightly tacky from her spit and your slickness.

“No, like actually,” you said again, sitting up despite her best efforts to keep you in place, your legs starting to close instinctively.

Abby pouts, and you can’t help but mimic her expression because this poor girl has been following you around like a lovesick puppy ever since you got home from work, clearly bored and horny, while you were too stressed and tired to even think about anything else. She was all smooth with it, too, claiming she was going to “put you to bed,” but your head was still spinning with thoughts of annoying coworkers and unfinished tasks. You were too far in your own head to focus on the woman between your legs who was clearly trying to help.

Her warm hands found your shoulders, pressing with that unique weight only she carried, her thumbs kneading gently. The gesture softened you immediately.

“We can totally stop, it's just..." Her lips find yours in a gentle yet hungry kiss, her teeth nipping then soothing it with the wet of her tongue. You nearly moaned into her mouth, your body betraying every word you were about to say. “I have been wanting to taste you all fucking day. I know you had a shit day, but please, baby, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you don’t come on my face”

You couldn’t help it; you burst into laughter, and Abby froze, staring at you ???????

“Oh, you’re serious,” you managed between fits of giggles, your eyes watering as you met her utterly unamused glare.

Two minutes of laughing later, Abby had had enough. With a firm nod, she launched herself forward, tackling you onto the bed and pinning you beneath her. Her body weight pressed you into the mattress, her lips hovering over yours, and you could see that look in her eyes that she was really going to put you to bed this time.

a/n: this sucks butt lol but i hope you all enjoy still.

[chexnluv]

ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU SAY “I WANT A KISS” IN PUBLIC , (🍥)

pairing: boyfriend ! enhypen × girlfriend ! afab reader, genre: fluff, headcanon, warning(s): pet names, kissing, public display of affection, not proofread,

LEE HEESEUNG ,

“Seung, I want a kiss!” you demanded, tugging on your boyfriend’s sleeve as he focused on the movie. The dim glow of the theater surrounded you, but all you could think about was his lips on yours. You felt his hand wrap around yours, his thumb gently brushing your skin. He chuckled softly, his gaze shifting from the screen to you. “Right here? In front of everyone?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, clearly amused by your sudden request. You glanced around, noting a few other couples engrossed in the film, but you didn’t care. Your expression was serious, determined. “Yes!” you insisted, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Heeseung smiled at your boldness, leaning in closer. You felt your heart skip a beat as he brushed his lips gently against your cheek. The kiss was soft and sweet, but not what you had in mind. “I want one on the lips,” you pouted, your lip jutting out in playful frustration. He chuckled quietly, the sound warm in your ear as he whispered, “We’ll save the real kiss for later,” squeezing your hand reassuringly. Despite his words, you couldn't help but feel content, knowing he'd make good on that promise.

rest of the members below !!

PARK JONGSEONG [JAY] ,

You and Jay were sitting together at a cozy little café, enjoying your coffee date. Everything was perfect—the warm atmosphere, the quiet chatter of people around you, and Jay’s comforting presence beside you. As the time to leave neared, you couldn't resist. “I want a kiss!” you blurted out a bit louder than intended, catching both Jay and yourself by surprise. Eyes wide, Jay immediately covered your mouth with his palm, cheeks flushing as he glanced around the café to see if anyone had heard. “Quieter, baby,” he muttered, leaning in, clearly embarrassed but smiling softly at your bold request.

Once he was sure no one was paying attention, Jay dropped his hand, his expression turning mischievous. Without warning, he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He wasted no time, pressing his lips firmly against yours in a quick but tender kiss. His touch was soft, yet the kiss had no hesitation, leaving you breathless. As he pulled back, his fingers still resting on your waist, Jay laughed quietly, his eyes sparkling with affection. “You’re going to get me in trouble,” he teased, though the way he was looking at you made it clear that he didn’t mind one bit.

SIM JAEYUN [JAKE] ,

“Jake! I want a kiss,” you said, playfully nudging him as you walked together hand in hand. The moment the words left your lips, a blush immediately crept across Jake’s face. His ears turned a light shade of pink, and he looked down at you with that slightly nervous, shy smile you adored so much. “Here?” he asked, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, clearly trying to contain his own flustered reaction. You could tell he was a little embarrassed, but you weren’t about to let him off that easily.

“Is that a problem, baby?” you teased, giving him your best puppy eyes. The look you gave him was irresistible, and he sighed, unable to hold back the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. With a quiet chuckle, Jake leaned down, his breath warm against your skin as he quickly pecked your lips. It was fast but sweet, leaving you wishing for more as he pulled away, still blushing, and looked into your eyes. He laughed softly, his shyness still lingering. “You’re too cute, you know that?” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing your cheek, making your heart flutter all over again.

PARK SUNGHOON ,

You were on a peaceful picnic date with Sunghoon, enjoying the warm afternoon sun as you rested your head on his shoulder. The quiet moments between you two felt perfect, but you wanted to make it even better. You looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I want a kiss,” you said softly. Sunghoon froze for a moment, caught off guard by your bold request in such a public setting. His eyes widened slightly as he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. He was clearly a bit flustered but quickly composed himself, a smirk spreading across his face.

“You really want a kiss right here?” he teased, his tone light but his expression still showing a hint of surprise. You pouted and leaned closer, giving him your best cute look. “Do it! Please, please, please!” you practically begged, using your puppy eyes as a weapon. He couldn’t resist. With a soft chuckle, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “No! Here,” you whined, pointing at your lips, making your request clearer. Sunghoon laughed softly and patted your head. “This is all you get for now,” he teased, leaving you both flustered and giggling at his playful resistance.

KIM SUNOO ,

“Sunoo! Kiss me! I want a kiss!” you blurted out, catching your boyfriend off guard. He immediately giggled, his face turning slightly pink as he looked around, noticing the people nearby. “Shh! You’re bringing attention to us,” he said in a hushed tone, clearly embarrassed, though he couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were being. “But Sunoo! I want a kiss! Besides, they’re probably thinking we make a good couple,” you added with a confident smirk, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Sunoo’s embarrassment grew, but so did his determination. Without warning, he leaned in and confidently kissed you—soft yet full of meaning, leaving no room for doubt. When he pulled away, a playful grin on his face, he raised an eyebrow. “There, happy now?” he teased, still holding onto your hand. You were too stunned to speak for a moment, feeling the warmth in your cheeks rise as your face turned bright red. His sudden boldness left you flustered, completely at a loss for words. You simply nodded, your heart racing as Sunoo giggled again, obviously proud of himself for turning the tables.

YANG JUNGWON ,

“Baby... what would you do if I told you to kiss me?” you asked casually, glancing at your boyfriend across the table. The two of you were at a nice restaurant, enjoying dinner, so he assumed you were joking around. He smirked, playing along. “Then I’d kiss you,” he replied with a shrug, thinking you weren’t serious. But your next words caught him completely off guard. “Okay, then kiss me!” you demanded, confidently holding his gaze. He froze, blinking in shock. “Right now? In front of everyone?” His voice was soft, and you could see his cheeks turning red as he glanced nervously around the room.

You nodded, unbothered by the people nearby. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in quickly, pressing a light peck on your lips before sitting back down as if nothing had happened. For a second, the two of you locked eyes in silence, and you noticed how his entire face had turned bright pink. He picked up his fork again, pretending to be nonchalant, but you could tell how flustered he was. “You’re too much…” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he avoided your teasing grin, clearly still embarrassed but also unable to stop smiling.

NISHIMURA RIKI [NIKI] ,

“Niki, Niki, Niki, Niki, Niki!” you chanted, tugging at his sleeve as the two of you wandered through the amusement park. He gave you a side-eye, clearly amused yet slightly annoyed by your persistence. “What is it?” he finally asked, raising an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. You hesitated for a moment, feeling shy. “I want a kiss,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes, barely able to meet his gaze. “Is that a dare?” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No! Definitely not,” you quickly responded, shaking your head. He grinned, leaning in closer. “So, you want a kiss here? Right in front of everyone? You really want the whole park to see?” he teased, dragging out the moment as your face flushed.

You thought he was about to grant your wish, his face inching closer, making your heart race. But at the last second, he swerved, planting a soft kiss on your cheek instead. “Gotcha,” he chuckled, pulling back, his laughter light and playful. “Ugh, you’re so bad,” you muttered, half-annoyed but mostly flustered. He grinned wider, then began peppering your face with kisses—your forehead, your cheeks, everywhere except your lips. Each kiss made your cheeks grow redder, and all you could do was pout as he continued to tease. He was such a tease, but you couldn't help but love every second of it.

© chexnluv | tumblr

[cho-aaacho]

One kiss isn't enough

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi and Choso

Masterlist

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru adores wrapping his arms around your curves from behind, inhaling the intoxicating floral scent of your neck. He loses himself in your charm, finding you utterly irresistible, and he never tires of telling you so, each confession accompanied by a mischievous giggle curling on his lips.

He loves to plant tender kisses on your jawline, making you chuckle playfully. Sometimes, he gives small, gentle bites, subtly marking you as his own and expressing that every part of him belongs to you alone, drawing you deeper into his realm.

Your soft whimpers of his name during a kiss drive him wild, showing your desire, love, and fantasy, allowing him to do more than just kiss. He relishes stealing soft kisses in public, trying to shock everyone with his playful actions. You know these are not forceful—just tender pecks from his moist lips. How could you resist?

After a long night at work, he invites you to join him in the bath, sharing the warmth of the water and the sweetness of pink blossom soap. Even though you've seen each other naked countless times since you started dating, bathing together always feels different—more intimate, more vulnerable.

Gojo's gentle touch on your back, his soft chuckle when he does so, his tender lips grazing your shoulder, admiring you from behind—all feel like intimate secrets shared between lovers. As he closes his eyes, he places a small yet sensual kiss on your neck, calming you with his sudden move.

A faint blush adorns his porcelain cheeks as he whispers, "...need it? My dear, I don't 'need' anything. I want you."

Geto Suguru

Geto Suguru creates a comfortable atmosphere with his kisses, leaving you yearning for more with each touch of his lips. Sometimes, during kisses, he slips in compliments or love lines, telling you how beautiful you are, how sweet you are, and how happy he is to be around you.

His gestures are gentle; he loves cupping your face, gazing into your eyes, and locking his love with yours. His fingers trace the delicate curve of your jawline, enveloping you in an embrace that feels like coming home. He brushes his nose with yours, planting a gentle peck along with a playful bite on your earlobe as a final flourish.

He's like honeydew on a summer's day—irresistibly sweet, leaving you intoxicated with his charm until you're drunk on his affection. With your foreheads pressed together in the aftermath of a kiss, his soft breath dances across your skin, a gentle caress that leaves you longing for more.

Warmth radiates from him, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. His breath feels like a familiar aroma, and sometimes he'll squeeze your soft body gently, eliciting a slight moan as your cheeks flush rosily. He giggles playfully before stealing another kiss on your neck, relishing the sensation of your vulnerability in his hands.

With a playful yet seductive smirk, he teases, "That wasn't so bad now, was it? How about something else? I know you want it right now."

Nanami Kento 

People might think Nanami Kento isn't a romantic man. His reserved demeanor and serious disposition might seem boring to some, but he shows his true self to you, and you are privileged to see this side of him.

He showers you with sweet, endearing words, telling you that you are the reason he lives, the only person he loves. He kisses you tenderly, embraces you gently in bed, rubs your face with his warm fingers, and traces your jawline with small, affectionate bites.

He finds immense joy in seeing your sleeping figure beside him, watching you cook breakfast, or being cared for when he's sick. He couldn't stop admiring you, slipping sweet words into your sleep every morning before placing a small kiss on your nose.

As a token of his affection, he kisses your cheek before going to work, saying, "My morning dew, I hope you have a beautiful day."

Fushiguro Megumi

Fushiguro Megumi loves to steal kisses from you, claiming every part of you as his, making it clear that you belong only to him. When he finally steals a kiss, he places a small yet sweet one between your cheek and jawline, giggling at your reaction and saying you're as red as a cherry blossom and sweet as a melon, trapping you in his embrace.

In response, you'll pinch his cheek, laugh, or playfully punch him every time he tries to steal a kiss. He knows you're only pretending to be mad and that, deep down, you crave more kisses from him.

When it comes to kisses, he loves to kiss the tip of your nose and often gives you multiple soft kisses on your lips. He avoids bites because he doesn't want to hurt you. 

Passionate yet reserved, he lets you put your arm around his neck while savoring the sweetness of his lips. Though he always denies his passion, it's clear he's just too shy to admit it.

Despite his mischievous nature, he tries to restrain himself from kissing you when he's with Yuuji and Nobara, convincing himself he's not very passionate. But you know very well that he's just being tsundere.

Choso

Despite his aloofness, he can be incredibly romantic and affectionate. When he kisses you, it’s always a tender softness, so sweet that you can't remember your name.

Sometimes, you catch the sweet murmur of your name between the kiss or a quiet hum escaping his sweet mouth, accompanied by a soft moan as your tongues intertwine.

There are moments when he chuckles between kisses, his eyes brimming with emotion, his cheeks flushed, and he is rendered speechless. Yet he cherishes every reaction you give, and while gently brushing your neck as he deepens the kiss, he still manages to tell you that small kisses aren’t enough for him. 

He needs more of you... because you're his alone.

Of course, he kisses you only when you're alone with him, away from the distractions of his brothers. Not wanting to be distracted by the teasing comments from Mahito or the disapproving remarks from Jogo. The two could be annoying sometimes.

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER ELEVEN: flirting in space

masterlist

She flops onto the bed, her stomach pressing against the soft duvet. “Dude, what is your bed made out of?” she mumbles, her face buried in the white fabric.

That is definitely going to leave a stain for sure.

Megumi stifles a laugh as he quietly closes his bedroom door and takes a seat beside her, the bed sinking on one side. “So, are we going to watch this stupid movie of yours or what?”

She shoots up, a mix of shock and indignation flashing across her face. “I actually cannot believe you said that about Little Women” she retorts him with a scoff, playfully shoving his chest.

“Besides” she begins while pulling her hair away from her face, “I decided that The Virgin Suicides is a better fitting movie for your first femcel watch”

“Why’s that?” he quirks an eyebrow.

“I wanna see you as uncomfortable as possible”, she grins.

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh as his back hits the mattress beside her. With a casual motion, he places his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling.

They both lie there, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars that adorn the raven-haired boy’s ceiling, a constellation of dreams lighting up the dark room.

It felt silly seeing such a child-like thing in his bedroom, it was absurd even, yet she understood. Understood the need to cling to the fragments of her childhood. Those memories, like distant stars, offered a comforting light in the darkness. She could almost hear the echoes of laughter on long summer days, the sticky sweetness of melted ice creams, and the chaotic joy of birthday parties. Each scrape and bruise carried a story, a testament to the adventures that once defined her youth. All of that resembled each star stuck onto the ceiling - thirty-two to be exact. Each one a symbol of a cherished moment—shining brightly yet tinged with an ache for what had been lost to the passage of time. The ache of the simplicity of those carefree days

"When did you start playing guitar?" she asks, interrupting the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

The living room is cozy, illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead lights and filled with the warm, buttery scent of freshly popped popcorn.

"I started when I was thirteen," he replies, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice.

He turns his head for moment, his eyes absently looking at a framed portrait of something far too small for her to see.

"My dad used to teach me."

"Oh," she says, leaning in a little closer, her eyes searching his for more. There's a flicker of something in his expression that makes her heart ache—a blend of fondness and sadness.

"Yeah, he left us, though." His voice drops, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

She watches as his gaze drifts to the wall, lost in memories that seem to swirl just out of reach.

She lets out a laugh, but it quickly transforms into a cough, the awkwardness of the moment catching her off guard.

"Okay fuck you," he snaps, standing up abruptly, the frustration palpable in his posture.

"I’m sorry but the trauma dumping caught me off guard, you dropped that on me out of nowhere!" she defends, she muffles behind a hand, still caught off gaurd by the sudden information.

She brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to regain her composure.

He scoffs and steps toward the flatscreen mounted on the wall, its black surface gleaming under the lights.

"Parents do suck, though," she continues, her tone becoming more contemplative.

"They usually write you in their will or leave a family heirloom in your name - not a lifetime full of trauma and trust issues"

She lets out a long sigh, the weight of her words sinking into the atmosphere.

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by her candidness. Grabbing the remote and the bowl of popcorn he had prepared earlier, he settles onto the floor in front of her, the soft thud of his body breaking the tension. The popcorn clinking against the bowl.

Leaning back so her head hangs over the edge of the couch, she looks at him upside down, a playful grin breaking across her face.

"At least the trauma made me hot and funny."

Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she tries to inject humor back into their conversation.

"Neither of those are true," he replies with a smirk, scrolling through Netflix, his thumb moving methodically over the remote.

The light from the screen casts a flickering glow on their faces, adding to the intimacy of the moment. She lifts her head until she's right side up, then snatches the remote from him, sticking out her tongue in playful defiance.

"Riilight," she says, dripping with sarcasm, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

As she continues scrolling, her brow furrows in concentration, her fingers dancing over the screen. Suddenly, a familiar cover catches her eye—a close-up of a blonde.

"YES!" she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over as she presses play. The sound of the opening theme fills the room, and she plops down next to him grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“I’m going to quiz you afterward, so you better be paying attention!” she exclaims, her mouth full of popcorn, kernels spilling slightly over her lips.

He shakes his head, a bemused smile on his face as he watches her horrible table manners. “Yeah, yeah, whatever just shut up and watch the movie,” he replies, amusement lacing his voice.

—

“It didn’t matter how old they had been, or that they were girls. But only that we had loved them, and that they hadn’t heard us calling, still did not hear us calling them out of those rooms. Where they went to be alone all time, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”

A blank screen suddenly filled with white text that began to ascend slowly, leaving the pair enveloped in a heavy silence, both grappling with the weight of what they had just witnessed.

“What the fuck,” Megumi finally murmured, his voice low and incredulous.

“So… didja like it?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

“Liked it? Did I like it?” he echoed, incredulous.

“Yeah, did you?”

Megumi turned to face her, locking eyes with an intensity that was both surprising and distraught.

“DID THEY ALL JUST FUCKING DIE?!” he shouted, hands gripping her shoulders as he shook her gently, urgency radiating from him.

“IS THERE A SECOND MOVIE? WE HAVE TO WATCH IT! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? WHY DID THEY CUT DOWN THE TREE?” His questions spilled out in a rush, a torrent of disbelief and passion that made her laugh despite the intensity of the moment.

“YN, WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?” he asked, bewildered.

“Shhhh,” she urged, pressing a hand to his lips in a shushing gesture. “It’s 2 AM! We don’t need to wake up the rest of the house about with your screaming about the death of four teenage girls,” she hissed, trying to rein in her amusement.

“Mmmff mmmph mppff,” he protested, his words muffled yet animated.

She finally removed her hand, and he took a deep breath, clearly still caught up in the heat of the moment. “We have to watch the second movie,” he insisted, eyes wide with eagerness.

“There’s no second movie,” she replied, bending down to gather the scattered popcorn he had sent flying in his fervour.

“But there are so many unanswered questions. Like, why did they do it?” His frustration was palpable, a crease forming between his brows.

She regarded him with a look as if to say "bitch be so serious".

“The whole movie answered that question,” she replied, exasperation in her tone.

He sat back, stunned, still reeling from the emotional impact of the film, especially the shocking fate of the four blondes. The gravity of the ending lingered, and she could see the gears turning in his mind, struggling to process the story’s conclusion.

“Don’t think too hard. Wouldn’t want that pretty head of yours to fry,” she teases, her tone light and playful.

"Sofia Coppola is fucked," he declares, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he leaps onto the bed, the mattress softly bouncing beneath him.

Leaning in, she whispers conspiratorially, "But that's what makes her so brilliant."

In a sudden burst of energy, he turns and pounces on top of her, catching her completely off guard. She gasps, a surprised squeal escaping her lips, which quickly dissolves into laughter as she instinctively tries to push him off.

"Megumi, get off! You're so heavy!" she exclaims, her tone a mix of playful annoyance and genuine struggle.

"Nahh," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He finds amusement in her attempts to squirm free, relishing the playful dynamic between them.

Straddling her and pinning her hands to the bed, the atmosphere crackles with tension and unspoken possibilities. His laughter fills the room, finding entertainment in her weak attempt at an escape.

“Come on, Yn, you can do better than that,” he quips, raising an eyebrow and flashing a teasing smirk.

She squirms beneath him, laughter mixing with playful frustration as she tries to wriggle free. After a moment, he gives in, unstraddling her and lying down beside her.

They find themselves in the same relaxed position as earlier in the night, but now the air is thick with an unspoken tension that draws them closer together. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand, disrupting the moment. She glances at the screen, and the unsaved contact tells her everything she needs to know. With a resigned roll of her eyes, she tosses her phone to the floor, irritation flashing across her face.

“Who was that?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

“Scam text,” she replies tersely, her tone clipped as she attempts to brush off the interruption. The moment lingers, heavy with what’s left unsaid, both of them acutely aware of the shift in their dynamic.

A minute of silence envelops them, thick with unspoken thoughts. She feels the warmth radiating off him, a heat that heightens the already-charged atmosphere.

Finally, he breaks the stillness. “We have a gig on Saturday if you want to come.”

“Do you want me to come?” she asks, turning her head to meet his gaze. He remains focused on the ceiling, lost in thought.

“I don’t mind. The offer’s there. I can get you free entry if you do, and there’s also—”

Before he can finish, she reaches up, capturing his face in her hands and turning it toward her. Their eyes lock, and he’s struck by the intensity in hers.

“Yeah, but do you want me to come?” she presses, her voice steady but tinged with an underlying vulnerability.

He sees the anticipation sparkling in her eyes, a mixture of hope and expectation hanging in the air between them. Two responses linger on the tip of his tongue, but instead of articulating them, he chooses neither. He closes the distance between them, his lips crashing onto hers with a sudden, fervent urgency. The kiss is intoxicating, filled with everything left unsaid, igniting the moment into something deeper. Something that the pair refuse to say out loud.

Good answer.

extras!

• partygirls do NOT keep secrets in the house so she immediately told them where she was (and also apologised to nobara)

• yn drives illegally LOL (too many dui’s + she does not actually have a license)

• megumi actually live pretty close to her otherwise she definitely would have caught the train

• megumi was NOT nonchalant this chapter…

• NO SLUT SHAMING IN THIS CHAPTER!! WE ARE MAKING PROGRESS CHAT

• playground love got added to megumis playlist immediately after the movie (he shazammed it)

• they both watched little women and then barbie after

• megumi had to excuse himself to go the bathroom bc he was lowkey abt to cry at the ending of little women (he’s so me)

• letterboxxd reviews!!

• panda has recently been binge watching the talk tuah podcast and now comments the same thing under everyones tweet (theyre sick of him) (his favourite episode is the one with jojo siwa by far)

• sukuna stalker era? (he has our location set on indefinitely yn just forgot to turn it off for him)

• aw hes just looking out for us #protectiveboyfie #bias

a/n: SORRY FOR THE DELAY LAST WEEK WAS SO CRAZY I COULDNT MEET THE DEADLINE!!!! next chapter out in a couple of hours but after that posting will be back on regular times🙂‍↕️

taglist: @shokosbunny @luvvmae @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @noodles-icetea @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @renbittt @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @pastriepuppy @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[pastryfication]

Can you please do Oscar x reader, who's birthday is coming up but she doesn't want to celebrate or acknowledge it?

I'm that way. My birthday is on the 30th. 🥺

happy birthday!!! i hope you have an amazing day, love xx

this is my gift to you ❤️🥳

birthday celebrations | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

content warnings: oscar being the perfect boyfriend.

you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of your blanket cocooning you against the world outside.

you snuggle deeper into the bed, just wanting to hide. today is your birthday, a day you’ve dreaded for as long as you can remember. birthdays have never been your thing—too much fuss, too many expectations. you’d rather it pass like any other day, quiet and unremarkable. but your boyfriend has other plans.

you hear the faint clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. curiosity piques, and you pull yourself out of bed, padding softly to the source of the noise.

and there he is, oscar, standing by the stove, a look of concentration on his face as he prepares your favorite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with strawberries and jam. he turns, catching sight of you, and his face lights up with a smile that melts your reluctance just a little.

“happy birthday, love,” he says, coming over to kiss your forehead. you try to protest, to remind him that you don’t want a big deal made out of today, but he hushes you gently.

“just a simple breakfast,” he insists, guiding you to the table.

breakfast is a cozy affair, the two of you sitting close together at the small kitchen table. the pancakes are perfect, made exactly like you love them, and the berries are sweet and fresh. oscar keeps the conversation light, steering clear of any mention of birthdays or celebrations. he knows you too well, and it makes your heart swell with gratitude.

after breakfast, oscar insists on a lazy morning. he pulls you back to bed, rewrapping you in a cocoon of blankets and his arms. the two of you spend hours cuddling, watching your favorite shows, and simply enjoying each other's company. his constant attention and gentle touches make you feel cherished, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren't so bad when spent like this.

the day slowly unfolds in a series of small, thoughtful gestures. oscar dotes on you, bringing you tea while you read and stealing kisses when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. he suggests a walk in the park, knowing how much you love the feel of the sun on your face and the rustle of leaves underfoot, and you walk hand in hand through your favourite park.

as the evening approaches, you start to worry about what he might have planned. you’ve made it clear you don’t want a party, and oscar has always respected your wishes, but birthdays make you wary. he sees the tension in your shoulders and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“i know you don’t want a big celebration,” he murmurs into your ear, “but i thought a quiet dinner with a few of your closest friends might be nice. just us, no fuss.”

you turn to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. all you see is his genuine desire to make you happy, and it softens your resolve. you nod, agreeing to the dinner, trusting that he’ll keep it simple.

when your friends arrive, the atmosphere is warm and intimate, just as oscar promised. there’s no grand entrance nor any loud singing, just the comfort of familiar faces and easy conversation. you find yourself relaxing, enjoying the evening more than you expected. the dinner is delicious, the laughter infectious. you catch oscar’s eye across the table, and he gives you a wink that makes your heart flutter.

as the night winds down, and your friends start to leave, you realize that today hasn’t been so bad. in fact, it’s been kind of wonderful. oscar walks you to bed, his hand in yours, and you snuggle into his side, feeling a contentment you hadn’t anticipated.

“thank you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“for what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“for making today special,” you reply, “without making it too much.”

he smiles, pulling you closer. “anything for you, my love.”

and as you drift off to sleep, you think that maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t so terrible after all.

[withleeknow]

my moon and stars.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff; even tho it's unedited this is still one of my favorite things that i've written on this blog so far !!! gaaaaaaah word count: 1.1k listen to 🎧: lover - taylor swift

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

nobody thought jeongin would be the next one to get married, but alas, here you are, at the reception of your friend's wedding, nursing a glass of champagne.

"come on," minho says, snatching the glass away from you and finishing the rest of it in one gulp, before he takes you by the hand and tugs you forward. "let’s go dance."

you can't even be annoyed that he basically just stole your drink. instead, you just laugh, and let the love of your life drag you to the dance floor.

he guides you to move in a slow rhythm, matching the tempo of the song that's playing in the background. it's a song that you would usually think is overrated and has been played to hell and back, but in the moment, drunk on the cozy atmosphere, you think it's nice. you briefly wonder what song you would choose for your first dance at your own wedding.

it's just a fleeting thought. you've been having those all day.

jeongin's wedding was beautiful. everything was done to perfection, and you have no doubt that most of it was overseen by his girlfriend.

nope, correction: she's his wife now.

nevertheless, you've been imagining yourself and minho in a similar setting. you in a stunning white dress. him, dashing in a classy suit. the two of you exchanging vows with teary eyes in front of your friends and families. the cats as ring bearers. sealing forever with a deep kiss and fond smiles.

as you continue to sway along to the music, you wrap your arms around minho's neck and pull him closer. there's something in the way that he's been treating you all day that makes you melt even more than it usually does. he's been more touchy; there's not a single moment where his hands aren't on your body in any way, whether it be a hand on your knee, on the small of your back, or an arm around your waist. minho isn't often overt with his affection like that; he tends to dote on you in the privacy of your own loving bubble, away from anyone and everyone.

then, there's the softness that he's looking at you with in his chocolate brown eyes. it's warm, saccharine; it makes you feel like you two are the only people left in the room even though this is supposed to be someone else's big day.

"i love you," he says suddenly, brushing his nose against yours before leaning in just a tad closer to your lips, "you mean the world to me."

it's rare for minho to say things like this out of the blue. he's a man of few words after all.

he's full of surprises today, it seems.

"what's the occasion?" you ask with a coy smile.

"no occasion. just wanted to tell you that."

you close the distance, pressing your lips against his as his arms wrap themselves tighter around your body. "i love you too," you smile against him.

he mirrors your smile, and kisses you deeper. he's so sweet today, so openly loving with you even as your friends around you watch on.

you have an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he's been thinking the same things as you.

you stay in each other's arms until the song ends, then another one, then a couple more, just basking in soothing glow of love that's covering the air tonight. minutes pass with kisses shared, until it's finally time for the bouquet toss.

minho reluctantly lets you leave his side for the first time since the morning. his eyes follow you as you move to the front of the room, standing a comfortable distance away from the bride. you've never really been interested in this kind of things anyway; you're just doing it for the sake of participation.

everyone else is engrossed in what's about to happen, their eyes fixed on the bride and the peonies in her hands, but minho is only focused on you. you, who's trying to blend in with the group of people and undoubtedly praying that the bouquet doesn't make its way into your hands. you, whom he thinks looks so beautiful, all dolled up for the special occasion. you, who made his heart stutter when you walked into the room in your pretty dress and flashed him a bashful smile. (but who is he kidding? you make his heart want to give out and run away every single morning when he wakes up and sees you peacefully sleeping in his arms.)

just you. always only you.

you, you, you.

you don't hang in the moon in the sky. you are the moon, you are the stars.

minho watches you watch the bride as she counts down from 3, then flings the bouquet up in the air while everyone waits with bated breath. it's a mess of flailing arms from what he can tell, a couple of the bridesmaids practically fighting each other to try and grab the damn thing.

you try to make yourself smaller, to duck lower so that the others could have the honor instead of you. but when the flowers come hurling toward you, you have no choice but to raise your hands and catch it, lest you want to be lobbed in the face with a bouquet of peonies.

some of the people around you sigh frustratedly, but most of the guys around minho suddenly burst into loud cheers. they clap him on the back and shake him by the shoulders but still, he remains transfixed on you and your adorable wide-eyed expression. your parted lips and doe eyes blinking fast as a rosy flush creeps up your skin.

your eyes find him in an instant, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. he reckons that you're trying to gauge his reaction, because the room is now filled with excited squeals of congratulations and half-hearted jokes of how you and minho are going to be the next ones to get hitched.

you look uncertain, still frozen in place with your hands clutching the peonies.

but then he just smiles, and it makes you smile too, your body immediately relaxing as you give him a wave using the bouquet, your shoulders slumping slightly when you release a sigh.

to minho, it doesn't matter whether you caught the flowers or not; neither of you believes in that kind of stuff anyway. it doesn't matter because he's always known that he was going to marry you, that there's no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.

it doesn't matter because unbeknownst to you, he's already got a velvet box hidden somewhere in your shared home, with a gorgeous diamond ring inside just waiting for the day it can be put on your finger.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2024]

[cassianaries]

Can you do reader x luigi where they are best friends and are lying on her bed and theres soooooo much tension and they finally fuck and its sooooo cute cus hes so gentle and sweet but also its super hot because shes never been eaten out before and its awesome!!! Plspslslslss full length!!!

The Space Between - Luigi Mangione x reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI - smut, swearing.

Author's note: Thank you for the request. I hope you all like this! Let me know what you think or if you have any more requests.

Word count: 2,895

It was Friday night and there was no other place Y/N wanted to be than in her apartment. While others got ready for a night on the town dressed in their best, Y/N was currently in her pajamas. Her apartment was clean, she ordered takeout, she had several candles illuminating her apartment, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere she was after. She had her favorite movie queued up, this was her definition of a perfect Friday night. Her friend group invited her out to a night of copious drinking and karaoke, but she politely declined. Her night was planned eat her dinner and dessert while watching several of her favorite movies, do her nightly routine, and be in bed with a good book by 9:30 and fall asleep.

She always planned her Friday nights, its what gets her through her week. When she's bored at work she'll create a list of movies/tv shows she wants to watch, make note of that restaurant she saw on Postmates that looked good that she decides she will order from, Y/N has always been a planner, and she doesn't mess around about her Friday nights in. Her Friday night went on without a hitch, the movies she chose were always good, of course they were they were her comfort movies. The dinner she had that night from a local Thai place was delicious that she finished it 30 minutes into her first movie, and the chocolate chip cookies she made were baked to perfection.

It was now 9:30, on the dot she finished her skincare routine and was not in bed with her book in her hand and the book light being the only source of light illuminating her room. She sighed, content with how her enjoyable her Friday night was. Just as she was sinking into bed, there was a knock at her apartment door.

She shuffled out of bed, dragging her feet annoyed and seemingly on the verge of throwing a tantrum. She looked through the peep hole to see Luigi, she opened the door with a huff, "What do you want?"

He let out a breath smiling, his upbeat energy annoyed Y/N, she just wanted to read her book in bed, in her cozy warm bed. But no. She was standing at the threshold of her apartment door, there was a cold draft, she was tired, annoyed and Luigi was smiling. He was dressed in white basketball shorts and a plain blue shirt. He had on his black nike sneakers and he still smiling holding a book in his hand. She wanted to smack him with the book that was in his hand- wait, why is he carrying a book? No, she thought. He better not- I swear to God. If he's here for the reason that I think he is here I'm going to--

"I thought I'd stop by and join your coveted Friday night reading sessions," he replied brightly walking past her into her apartment and making his way into her room. It took her a second to realize he'd just charmed his way into her apartment, she quickly slammed the door and locked in, making her way to her bedroom. When she arrived at her bedroom door, he had already removed his shoes, turned on her bed side lamp, and was laying on the other side of her bed.

"Do you have an extra book light?" he asked casually. She was frozen at her door, still in a state of disbelief. He ignored the look of shock on her face, when Y/N finally picked her jaw off the ground she sputtered, "W-what you want a- what are you doing here Lu?" she finally asked.

"I'm here to read with you. You never want to go out with us on Friday nights and you seem to love what you do on Friday telling us about it the next day so I thought I'd join. It seems like a perfect evening. What movies did you watch?" he asked casually.

Luigi and Y/N's other friends have a group chat that is very chaotic, no one ever really reads what she writes unless it's something important or a direct question. So what she's done ever since Y/N started her 'Friday night tradition' is recap what she did for her coveted Friday night. Y/N provides a daily recap of the night; what movies/shows she watched, what she ate, and what book she read in bed. No one ever interacted with her Friday night recaps, so she just assumed they either skimmed it or didn't read it. But Luigi being himself, of course he read it and invited himself to the silent reading portion of the night.

Y/N sighed, "I didn't think you actually read my recaps."

He looked up at her and said very seriously, "Of course I did, you're my friend I like hearing about what you're up to."

Before Y/N could kick him out he interjected, "Look, if I really am going to ruin your Friday night, I can leave. I just thought it could be fun to read together and maybe even discuss and show each other what we're reading."

How could she tell him to leave? He looked up at her with his book in his lap, ankles crossed, and with a look of genuine excitement. Y/N kneeled down to open the bed side table drawer, and handed him a book light. He had the biggest smile on his face as she made her way to her side of the bed. They both sat in silence reading your books. Y/N opted for a romance novel and Luigi was reading a historical fiction book. The room was silent except for the occasional turning of a page and the sounds of the city outside her bedroom window.

An hour into the reading session, Y/N had slumped further into her bed. She could feel a pair of eyes on her and she turned to face Luigi. He was staring at her, the goofy smile from earlier no longer on his face. His gaze was softer than she'd ever seen, it was almost careful.

"Why are looking at me like that?" she asked placing her book off to the side. She noticed his book wasn't even open, it laid flatly on his chest.

"When you read, you mouth the words," he replied absentmindedly.

"Okay," she laughed. "And what about it?"

"It's adorable," he replied.

She cleared her throat unsure of how to respond, but decides on a quick 'thanks' under her breath. She tries to go back to reading, but the interaction created a tension in the air that changed the entire mood of the night. She was unsure of how to act, how to respond, what to even-think. Her other friends in their friend group would mention how Luigi was different with her and she would just say he's like that with everyone, it's Luigi he's kind. But her friends would point out the lingering stares or how he would always have her attention, how when he made a joke he always looked to her for approval. It was subtle, but it was there. And this moment solidified it for her.

She never wanted to confront it because she liked being friends with Luigi, she never really had a lot of friends before meeting this core group she had now. He was the friend she prayed for. Attentive, caring, thoughtful. Not that her other friends were, but with Luigi it was just different. If she said something and no one heard it, he would say it loudly so that they would hear. If she wanted to go somewhere no one else wanted to go, he would go with her so she wouldn't go alone. If she said something and no one acknowledged it, he would. She never wanted to mess that up or lose that by pursuing something more than a friendship with him.

"Luigi-" she started.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

"What if-" she began.

"It won't change anything, I promise. You'll have me, no matter what happens, you'll always have me. I'm always going to be here." He replied softly.

She nodded.

"Y/N, I need you to say it."

"You can kiss me Lu," she whispered.

He was shaking, she could sense his nervousness as he maneuvered to face her. She had moved to be nearer to him He was now in front of her his hands cradling her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek. She like this, she leaned into his touch. He leaned forward and she met him halfway, their lips moved slowly. Luigi sighed into the kiss as if he finally let out a breath he'd been hold for far too long. Y/N pulled away smiling, and quickly pecked his lips causing Luigi to smile.

Y/N leaned forward and initiated another kiss and deepening it, she wants this. She wants Luigi. She made it very clear when she straddled him, he let out a groan pulling away. "Are you sure?" he asked. She was now grinding against him hoping that would answer his question, he placed his hands on her hips to stop her movements, she groaned in protest hiding her face in his neck. He pulled her back so that he could look at her, moving the hair out of her face so that he could see her.

"Baby- I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you say you want this," he said panting.

She nodded her head quickly, "Yes Lu, please."

"How do you like it?" he asked. "What's off the table?"

"Nothing, do what ever you want to me Lu, I don't care just touch me please" she said desperately.

"Okay, tell me if it's too much." he replied kissing her lips before flipping her over she yelped in shock and he laughed kissing her lips hungrily. He moved to her neck and when he surfaced again and she could see his face, something changed. Luigi looked more serious, he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Open," was all he said.

Y/N obliged. She opened her mouth sticking out her tongue. Luigi spit in her mouth, "Swallow it" was all he said. She did as she was told and opened her mouth to show him she had obeyed.

"Good girl," he replied. "Good fucking girl."

He began removing her pajamas and she laid naked in front of him, there was something about having him completely clothed and her fully naked in front of him on display. His eyes explored every inch of her body, "You're so beautiful" he replied breathlessly. Y/N began to sit up to remove his clothing, but he pushed her back onto the bed causing her to bounce a bit. "Did I say you could touch me?" he asked his voice more stern and dominant. "No," she replied softly.

He slapped her cheek lightly and gripped her chin, his thumb was near the corner of her mouth, she took hold of his wrist and put his thumb in her mouth sucking lightly. She removed his thumb and looked up at him, "I'm sorry daddy," she replied. The domineering look in his face faltered as his jaw slacked, he ripped his thumb away from her mouth and began tearing off his clothing as if they were on fire.

Their mouth and hands took turns exploring each other's body leaving her moaning his name and calling him 'daddy' and begging him to fuck her already which she learned he loved being called that. She was gripping his biceps when she felt him teasing the entrance of her pussy with his fingers, she moaned trying to move her hips to speed up the movement. His middle finger was playing with her entrance and the wet noises from her pussy filled the room.

"Whose this pussy belong to?" he asked continuing his cruel teasing.

"Yours," she replied breathlessly her eyes closed.

"Open your eyes and tell me who this pussy belongs to," he replied slowly and sternly.

She opened her eyes and choked out, "Yours-" thats when he slammed his fingers into her and kept them there. She let out a yelp and cry of relief. He began moving his fingers in and out her pussy, the sounds of her wetness and her moans filling the room. He didn't stop, he place his left hand on the space above her pussy and below her navel to create pressure and it made the sensation even more enjoyable. Where the hell did he learn that? she thought to herself. She was moaning and screaming his name has he continued to please he with his fingers, she tried to stimulate her clit but he pushed her hand away and said something about it being his job to please her, she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. The next thing she knew she squirted and she screamed from relief.

She heard Luigi groan and she opened her eyes as her chest moved up and down rapidly that she had soaked her bed and his chest. His perfectly sculpted chest was drench in her wetness. She closed her legs and her hand covered her mouth in shock, Luigi looked at her and then looked down at his chest. They didn't say anything for what felt like hours to her.

"Open your legs baby, I need to fuck you," he replied hurridly.

She obliged, he leaned down spit on her pussy, slapping it. A bit sensitive, Y/N yelped in shock and moaned in pleasure as his cock slammed into her. He held onto her hips as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.

"Are you going to come again for me?" he asked moving one of his hand's from her hips to grip her breast. Y/N was fucked out. She couldn't respond, but Luigi was a talker. He asked her again gripping her chin with his thumb and index finger, "Hey- are you going to come for me again?" he asked more sternly.

"Yes, I'm going to come" she replied breathlessly.

"No one's ever made you squirt like that huh?" he asked.

"No one has, you're the only one" she replied.

"Fuck-" he groaned picking up speed. Her breasts were swaying back and forth from the force of his thrusts, she could tell he was close.

"You're the only one whose ever made me squirt Lu, you're the only one" she replied holding one of his hands, he intertwined their fingers.

"Y/N fuck- fuck I'm coming-- I'm comin- Y/N I-" he couldn't even get the sentence out and Y/N wouldn't had even heard it as the blood rushed to her ears as she came hard. He collapsed on top of her their chests rising and falling rapidly. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, caressing the hair at the name of his neck. He lifted up his head to look at her, his signature Luigi smiled plastered on his face. It was a contrast to who he was minutes ago slapping her face and condescendingly nodding when asking her if his cock felt good inside of her.

"Was that okay?" he asked. He was overthinking, typical Luigi.

"Yes baby that was more than okay, I think me coming twice proves that" she replied amused at his look of shyness.

"Okay I just wasn't sure if you'd be into me being rough and I didn't want to hurt you and I-" she cut him off by kissing him.

She pulled away, "I'm fine, I loved it." she replied sweetly and he smiled shyly embarrassed and replied with an 'okay good' under his breath, she could see a proud smile forming on his face.

"So how are we going to explain us to the others?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, maybe we can get a cake or something and write 'Hey we did it' and present it to them." she said.

"That's a good idea" he replied truthfully. Y/N always liked how he got her humor. "But first we need to go to CVS" he replied.

"Why?" Y/N asked.

"To get the cake and a Plan B. They have cake at CVS?" he asked making his way to her side of the bed picking her up bridal style. Y/N let out a yelp in shock.

"They don't have cake at CVS," she replied dryly.

"Okay we'll get the Plan B tonight and we'll wake up early and stop by the bakery." Luigi replied.

"You're sleeping over I assume?" Y/N asked lifting her eyebrows as Luigi continued walking in the direction of the bathroom.

"Of course I am baby, it's going to be our Friday night tradition and make sure you let the group chat know how this Friday night was I want to hear a full breakdown, review, and rating of tonight's events." Luigi said enthusiastically.

"Lu I am not telling them that we slept together and I sure as hell am not rating it" Y/N replied shocked.

Luigi replied, "I'm kidding baby, but I would like some one on one feedback if you don't mind" he replied wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he lead them into the shower.

[sundropflowerr]

Keep Me Warm? | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: no use of y/n, soft but slightly intense make-out session, fluff, established relationship, playful teasing, cozy domestic vibes, light banter, Steve being a human heater, mutual affection, soft touches, silly moments, clumsy attempts at making s’mores, cuddling, lingering glances, emotional softness, brief moments of flustered tension

★ Summary: When the weather turns cold, you and Steve love getting cozy together—warm sweaters, lots of laughter, and kisses that start sweet and fuzzy, and end breathless and hot. 2.9k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: "Love to Keep Me Warm” - Laufey & Dodi

★ Dividers: thank you to @saradika for the adorable banner, it’s greatly appreciated!

★ Author's Note: steve definitely gives off “let’s stay home and cuddle” vibes on a cold night, which brought me to write this! i hope you all enjoy, this isn’t anything serious just relationship material. ignore how messy this is…

★ REMINDER: this has a slightly intense make-out session, if you are under 16 DNI!!

It was December, and the first real snow of the season had finally fallen.

The flurries were delicate at first, the kind that dusted the world like powdered sugar, covering the streets, the roofs, and the trees in a soft, white blanket.

It wasn’t quite Christmas yet, but the air had that distinct wintery feeling—a calm that came only with the cold and the promise of something festive just around the corner. The holiday season always seemed to make everything feel more alive, more full of possibility, and tonight was no different.

Inside Steve’s house, the warmth of the living room stood in stark contrast to the chilly air outside. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls. The Christmas tree, freshly decorated, was proudly displayed in the corner, its lights twinkling like stars in the dim light. The soft scent of pine mixed with cinnamon candles, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

A few stray ornaments that Steve had clearly hung haphazardly were balanced on the tree, reminding you that this wasn’t some pristine picture-perfect holiday home—it was Steve’s home, and it was perfect just the way it was.

You and Steve had been dating for a while now—this was your second Christmas together as a couple—and it still felt surreal at times.

You hadn’t started out as a love story. No dramatic confessions, no grand gestures. Just two friends who had spent countless hours together, laughing, talking, and eventually realizing that maybe, just maybe, they didn’t want to spend their time with anyone else.

The transition from friends to something more had been easy. It had happened gradually, like a soft shift you barely noticed until one day you were holding hands or stealing soft kisses when no one was looking, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

This December had been especially busy—Christmas events with your friends and the kids had filled up most of your days. You’d gone to Robin’s Christmas movie marathon, attended parties with Eddie and Jonathan and Nancy, and of course, you couldn’t forget the Secret Santa party with the kids—Dustin, Max, Eleven, Mike, and Lucas. It was always chaotic and loud, but you loved it. Still, after all the festivities, there was nothing better than this quiet evening with Steve, just the two of you tucked under a thick blanket on the couch. It felt like the calm after a storm of holiday cheer.

And tonight, with the fire crackling softly in the background, you couldn’t help but feel like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was light, playful, like he was about to reveal some grand idea. “I know you said we’ve watched this movie, like, a million times, but I’m telling you—this one is different.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the TV screen where another classic holiday film was playing. “Steve,” you said, half-laughing, half-sighing, “this is literally the third time we’ve watched this exact movie in the last week.”

He grinned at you, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I know, I know, but this time, you’re going to feel the magic. You’ll see.”

You shook your head with a smile, snuggling deeper into the blanket. You loved the way he could turn something as simple as watching a holiday movie into an event, even if it was the same thing over and over. It was one of the reasons you liked spending time with him—his enthusiasm for even the most mundane things was infectious.

You found yourself settling into his side as the opening credits played, your head resting on his shoulder, his arm comfortably around your waist. The warmth of him seeped into you, wrapping you in a feeling that was just… right.

“I’m just glad we’re having a quiet night in,” you murmured, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his sleeve.

“Yeah, me too,” Steve agreed, his voice softer now, the playful edge gone. He shifted slightly, turning toward you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment longer than usual. His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, a gesture so simple yet intimate that it made your heart flutter.

He’d always had this way of looking at you—like you were the most important thing in the room, like he was seeing only you and no one else. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place. Despite his loud, sometimes goofy exterior, Steve had this quiet intensity to him, a depth that showed in moments like this.

He never rushed anything. His affections were slow, steady, but always filled with a kind of warmth that made you feel completely at ease.

The movie continued to play, but the two of you weren’t really paying attention to it anymore. Instead, you both leaned into each other, enjoying the rare peace and stillness that a night like this could bring. The fire crackled in the background, its warmth creating a cocoon of comfort around the two of you.

Every now and then, Steve would chuckle at a cheesy line from the movie, and you’d tease him, calling him out for quoting it verbatim. But the laughter was lighthearted, natural. There was no rush, no pressure. Just the simple enjoyment of being together.

After a while, Steve broke the silence again, this time with a more mischievous tone. “Hey, what if we do something really holiday?”

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Like…” He paused, clearly considering his words. “Like make s’mores.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “It’s freezing outside, Steve.”

He was already pulling his jacket off the back of the couch, throwing it over his shoulders with excitement. “Exactly. That’s what makes it perfect.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound coming out more easily than you expected. “You’re insane.”

“No, no,” he insisted, reaching for his boots.

“You’ll see. It’ll be fun. S’mores and snow. Firepit. Hot chocolate. It’s the ultimate December date.”

You sighed, but you were already getting up with him. “Fine, fine. You better not burn down your backyard, though.”

He flashed you an impish grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then he added, “Plus, you love my ridiculousness.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed him outside, immediately hit with the chill of the night air. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the soft fabric warming you only slightly against the cold. Steve was already at the firepit, fiddling with the lighter and looking overly proud of himself.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way over.

Steve’s eyes lit up as he glanced over at you. “What’s ridiculous about a cozy firepit in the snow? This is perfect! The holidays, marshmallows, and us.”

You tried to hide your smile, but it slipped out anyway. There was something about his childlike excitement that made everything feel a little lighter, a little brighter.

He lit the fire with a flourish, the flames licking at the air as the warmth of the fire began to reach you. You held out your hands to warm them, watching as the snowflakes continued to fall softly around you both. The world had slowed even more out here, and it felt like you and Steve were the only two people in it.

“Alright, let’s roast some marshmallows!” Steve cheered, grabbing two skewers and handing you one.

You stared at the marshmallow bag, then back at him. “Are you sure we can pull this off? I don’t want a repeat of last year’s burnt mess.”

He waved you off confidently. “Trust me, I’ve totally got it under control this time.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. You both started roasting marshmallows, laughing as Steve kept getting his too close to the flames and setting them on fire. You couldn’t help but laugh each time, even though you were pretty sure he’d managed to set his marshmallows on fire on purpose at least once.

You were concentrating on getting your own marshmallow just golden enough when Steve suddenly let out a loud groan.

“I swear this is impossible,” he complained dramatically, inspecting his marshmallow like it was an insult to his very existence. “Why is this always harder than it looks?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Because you’re holding it in the flames, Steve.”

He held it up proudly, the marshmallow now completely blackened. “That’s called advanced roasting. It’s gourmet, trust me.”

You shook your head but couldn’t stop laughing. You gave up on trying to control your own marshmallow for a second, just to enjoy watching Steve with his ridiculous, over-the-top attempts.

Once you both managed to salvage your s’mores—admittedly, with a bit of extra chocolate and a lot of mess—you headed back inside, shivering from the cold but laughing from the silliness of it all. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun making s’mores that weren’t exactly perfect.

As soon as you stepped back into the warmth of Steve’s living room, you felt the tension leave your shoulders. Steve immediately grabbed the blanket from the couch, pulling it over both of you as you settled back in, curling into his side. You could still feel the chill from outside in your fingertips, but it was quickly replaced by the steady warmth of the fire and the even steadier warmth of Steve next to you.

The movie was still playing on the TV, but neither of you were paying attention to it anymore. Your focus was completely on each other. Every so often, Steve would catch your eye, a soft smile playing on his lips as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. You’d smile back, your heart fluttering at how natural it all felt.

“You know,” he said, his voice light but with a trace of affection, “I think this might be my favorite way to spend a cold night.”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him. “What, getting all cozy and not having to do anything productive?”

He laughed, shrugging. “Pretty much. But I think what really makes it great is having you here.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the sincerity in his words making the room feel even warmer. “You’re cheesy, Harrington,” you teased, nudging him back. “But I’ll admit, this is pretty perfect.”

Steve’s smile softened, his eyes locking with yours as his hand gently brushed a lock of hair from your face. “I mean it,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, “this—you—are perfect.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the space between you two suddenly feeling much smaller. Without saying another word, you both leaned in, your lips meeting in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, the quiet of the evening wrapping around you both like the softest, warmest blanket.

You found yourself completely forgetting about the outside world-the snow falling softly against the window, the movie still playing in the background, the fire crackling quietly in the hearth.

There was only him, and only this moment.

His lips were gentle but eager, as if he couldn't wait to close the space between you both. Steve's hand came up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb softly brushing your skin as if memorizing every contour of your face. His touch was warm, steady, and it made your heart flutter. 

You kissed him back just as gently, your lips fitting perfectly against his, a rhythm forming between you both that felt natural, like you'd been doing this forever.

The air between you two seemed to thicken, the room growing quieter despite the sounds of the fire. It was a comfortable quiet, one that let the moment linger, unhurried, like the two of you were savoring the closeness of each other. 

Steve's other hand moved down to your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer, his body now aligned with yours. The subtle shift made your breath hitch, but it wasn't uncomfortable-quite the opposite. There was a sweet urgency in his movements, like he wanted to feel as close to you as possible without pushing you.

He wasn't rushing.

Neither of you were.

You could feel the heat of his body through his sweater, the soft, worn fabric brushing against your skin as his hand slipped under the blanket and found the bare skin of your side. You shivered slightly at the warmth of his touch, the contact sparking a deeper sense of closeness. His fingers were light, almost tentative, as if waiting for a sign from you to pull him closer or back off.

But you didn't want him to back off. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, steady and soft, as your kiss turned a little more insistent. It was gentle, but there was a hint of longing in the way your lips moved together-an ache that seemed to build with every press of your mouths, every soft exhale.

Steve let out a low hum of approval, a sound that made you smile against his lips. He responded to your kiss with a new intensity, his hand sliding further up your back, his fingers splaying against the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as if he couldn't get enough of you. His other hand drifted from your waist to your cheek, gently cupping your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as though he were trying to memorize every inch of you. 

It was a soft, slow kiss-every movement deliberate, every touch more intimate than the last. His lips parted slightly, and you mirrored him instinctively, your breath mingling as you pressed a little closer to him.

The kiss was becoming deeper now, the kind that made your heart race, the kind where time seemed to stop. There was no hurry, no rush to go anywhere else. The entire world outside felt far away-just the warmth between your bodies, the comforting softness of the blanket, and the warmth of Steve's hands, which were now trailing lightly along your arm.

You felt your chest tighten with a fluttering sense of warmth, a mix of affection and longing. You wanted more-more of him, more of the feeling you were creating between the two of you. And without thinking, you shifted slightly in his arms, pressing yourself just a little bit closer, letting your hands slip from his chest to his shoulders, your fingers brushing along the soft fabric of his sweater. 

The simple touch felt like an unspoken promise, a mutual understanding that the connection between you was growing deeper, the bond between you two thickening. 

Steve's kiss deepened as well, his lips soft and persistent, his body language conveying a kind of quiet desire that matched your own. He pulled you just a little closer, his chest brushing against yours. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath against you, his heartbeat faster now, as the kiss became more urgent, more heated-but still tender. 

Every inch of his touch felt like a question, a gentle inquiry into how far you both could go, without pushing each other too fast, without rushing.

But in that moment, neither of you cared about the pacing, the slowing down. There was no reason to hold back anymore, not when this was so perfect, so right. You both seemed to move in sync, as if your bodies were finally telling each other what you had known all along-that you belonged together, in this space, at this moment, in this soft, intimate exchange.

 You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the intensity of the kiss slowly beginning to match the warmth of the fire that still flickered in the background. 

His lips, though warm and soft, had a new kind of desperation to them now, as if he was afraid that if he pulled away, the moment would slip through his fingers. 

He kept his hand at your neck, pulling you slightly up into him, the angle of the kiss shifting so you could taste him more, feel him more.

Your hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, and you heard him sigh softly in response. That sound, soft and needy, sent a wave of warmth rushing through your chest, a deep connection settling in your bones.

The kiss breaks, and you both pull back just enough to catch your breath, eyes meeting, soft smiles playing on your lips as you stay close, the space between you two still small, your foreheads resting against each other in that moment of shared intimacy. 

The silence was thick with affection, both of you a little breathless, hearts still racing in the wake of the kiss. 

Steve's eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek, as if savoring the moment. He smiled, a little sheepish but with genuine affection in his gaze.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and a little teasing, “I think you’re the best thing about this cold weather. You keep me warm.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart fluttering at the tenderness in his voice. “Yeah? Is that so?” you replied, raising an eyebrow playfully. “You sure it’s not just your sweater doing all the work?”

Steve looked down at his oversized sweater, the sleeves of which were too long, making his hands disappear. “Hey, don’t underestimate my sweater,” he said with a mock defensiveness, pulling you even closer as if to prove his point. “It’s a crucial part of the equation.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “Well, maybe it’s the combination of your sweater and you,” you teased, leaning in just slightly to brush your lips against his once more.

Steve’s grin widened, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Well, I guess I’m glad I’m not just a walking blanket,” he chuckled, his voice light. “But seriously, if it weren’t for you, I’d just be a big pile of cozy clothes, no personality.”

You laughed, the sound warm and easy as you cupped his face in your hands, your fingers brushing against the soft stubble along his jaw. “Good thing you’re more than just your clothes, Harrington.”

He grinned, kissing you gently again, his lips warm and soft against yours. “Yeah, I’m pretty great, huh?”

You smile, feeling your heart swell with warmth, both from the kiss and from the words. You lean into him again, your lips barely brushing his as you whispered back,

“Definitely.”

thank you so much for reading! please like/reblog or comment if you did, it would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!