#it makes me so happy when they ask me for requests
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luveline · 1 day ago
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I would like to say that this is NOT a smut request(unless of course you want it to be but it does not matter to me), but I’d love to see hotch finding out his sister and Spencer are not just an innocent couple because I know that would be so so so funny and awkward and I’m a sucker for awkward Spencer
Aaron wants you to be happy. More than anything, he wants you to have all the things in life he himself has been lucky to experience. A well paying job that he likes, a wife, a child. He wants you to be fulfilled, even in parts of life he’d prefer you didn’t have at all. 
“Remember that?” 
He wrinkles his nose. Spencer’s leaning over you, a hand encroaching the inside of your thigh, and Aaron isn’t that kind of brother but he sort of is; he feels a mixture of horror, mild disgust, and anger at the sight. He remembers you’re a grown up and so is Spencer before he can voice these emotions. 
You’re laughing. “Remember what, Spencer? Your dire inability to make a hickey?” 
“I’m not giving you a hickey!” Spencer whispers severely. “What is with you and biting? I don’t wanna bite you, and especially not where you wanted it.” 
“Everyone gives hickeys, Spencer.” 
“Please don’t say anything else. I don’t wanna know a single word’s about who’s been doing what to you.” 
“Just before,” you say. “Spencer, it’s just a kiss. And you like them, don’t you?” 
Your laugh turns to panicked giggling as Spencer squeezes your thigh. 
It’s sort of nice. If you weren’t his sister, Hotch might say it was romantic, or at the least, earnestly human. But you are his sister, and this is ridiculous, you knew he was coming over. 
He clears his throat loudly and opens the door. 
You, to your credit, look immediately embarrassed, and Spencer —honestly, he looks like he’s going to throw up, careful as he climbs off of you but rough the moment you’re no longer touching. 
“Hotch!” Spencer says, “I–”
“You knew I was coming,” Aaron says. 
You check your watch. The breath you let out is steam. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking at the time.” 
“I see.” 
“This is embarrassing.” 
You stand up. When you pull your t-shirt back down, Aaron wonders if he might be better off transferring Spencer to a foreign department. But then you give Aaron one of your I’m so sorry please don’t be mad looks and he decides to let it go. You weren’t even kissing, just talking about them as you play-fought or whatever it was. If anything, Spencer was being gentlemanly. 
Well, perhaps he shouldn’t go that far. “Come on, then. This car won’t pick itself up.” 
Spencer can barely look at him as he stands. “Uh, thanks again, Hotch. For taking us.” 
“I think this one falls under older brother duties, Reid.” 
“Okay. Sorry.” 
He takes a long breath. “You should be.” 
You jab Aaron in the arm, “Stop.” 
“What?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk. 
“You know what, stop being mean. Remember that time I walked in on you and Haley in the hot tub at–”
“Enough. Do you want to go get this car or not?” 
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giannaln4 · 2 days ago
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Sorry Won't Fix This
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Lando makes the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than any apology, and you both hoped there was a way to fix it. Unfortunately, you both wished it at different times. (5.5k words)
warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, manipulation, mede up characters, use of Y/N
a/n: I FINALLY WROTE MORE ANGST! This is a long one and I held nothing back. I really did try to make it as hurtful and dramatic as possible and ngl I was inspired by 'Don't worry darling' for a tiny part of this (you'll know when you read it) but anyway, this one does NOT have a happy ending so please let me know what you think!
Check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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You had a terrible feeling, but you were too scared to look into it, terrified you would be right. 
Truth is, you started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when you went back to Lando’s apartment to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but you had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as you both got up to get ready for your separate plans for the day, leaving a perfectly made bed to come back to. 
Before that day, you would’ve never in a million years thought that Lando would cheat on you. He had always been so loving and caring, even before you started dating, and once you officially became a thing, he would constantly remind you how much he loved you, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and you always thought that you would spend the rest of your life with him, but now... you didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed your mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.
Later that night you asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like you were accusing him of something, but his excuse just made you feel worse, your suspicions growing.
“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it. 
“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”
“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap,” he stuttered, not even looking at you. 
But it kept happening, a few more times.
Things started to change after that; he cancelled the plans you made for when he came back home, he suddenly was too busy every day and your presence might be a distraction for all the things he had to get done for the next race, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything, and he even asked you to go back to sleep in your own apartment, claiming he just needed to sleep on his own to be comfortable, even though you were used to sleeping together.
Long story short, he was distant; he was never around anymore, and even when he was, you felt like you were missing him. He was just... different, and you were beating herself up wondering what had changed.
He, on the other hand, didn’t miss you, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, ​​and it was not because you took a long time to reply; you would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for all the times you visited him at his apartment when a news outlet brought up that he was back in Monaco to make sure he was doing okay, you wouldn’t talk to each other at all.
But today you were feeling hopeful. It was your anniversary, and you had a date night planned — a date he didn’t cancel, so you took the entire afternoon to do your nails, your hair, and pick a beautiful dress to wear, his favourite dress. Your makeup took a while, but you still managed to be ready on time for the wonderful night you had ahead, so you made your way to him, your palms sweating when you knocked on the door.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.
“I thought we would go out tonight,” you replied, looking down at your hands to hide your clear disappointment.
“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m not gonna make it." The door was barely open, and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his apartment as he held the door with a strong grip.
“Okay,” your voice was so faint you barely heard it yourself. “Do you need anything? I could stay here for a couple of hours.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave.”
Tears pricked your eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in your throat. “Why?”
“Well, I’m busy with a few things. You know, I have a really early day tomorrow, and you can’t really help me with a McLaren meeting, can you?”
You shook your head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then.”
The tears you had been holding started to fall as soon as you turned around; you could feel your mascara clumping on your eyelashes and forming black streaks down your cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight you applied in hopes of impressing your boyfriend. You ran back to your car and let it all out once you closed the door. You really thought things would be different tonight, but you were wrong.
You started driving to your best friend’s house, desperate to vent about how terrible your relationship was going since you had been keeping a secret from everyone; the last thing you needed was the media to get in the middle of this. 
“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Mia asked you when she saw the mascara tears.
You shook your head as you stepped inside, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to stop the crying.
“What happened?” She took your hand and guided you to the couch.
“Lando.” 
“What about Lando?”
“I think he’s cheating on me." You had never said that out loud, and saying it broke your heart even more. “I wish I was crazy, but the signs... I know he is.”
“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”
“Everything, Mia. He has been acting so... distant. Ever since-” You stopped yourself. You never told anyone your relationship with Lando wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. You just wanted to hold on to everyone else’s idea of you two, thinking you were the perfect couple.
“What? Have you guys been fighting?”
You took a deep breath before saying, “Remember the last time I stayed over at his apartment?” She nodded in response, “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap, but he was supposed to be with Carlos all morning, and it didn’t make sense he had time to come back, take a nap, and then leave again, so I asked Carlos, and they didn’t meet at all that day. Is that insane?”
"No, Y/N, of course not.” Mia didn’t know what to say; she wanted to comfort you but she didn’t know how. “And he’s been acting weird since then?”
You nodded, wiping your tears away. “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time because he’s so busy with the season, which I understand, but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”
“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary.”
“It is.” You were nibbling on your lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“Have you told him how you feel?” You shook your head again; you hated confrontation, and you were hoping you didn’t have to do that. “I think you should go talk to him.”
“Right now?”
“If not now, then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while, but you haven’t said anything to him.”
“I don’t know Mia-”
“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation, and you deserve to know the truth.”
You inhaled as you considered what Mia just said. She was right, but to be completely honest, you weren’t ready yet. “I really want to know, but I can't.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down your face again, Mia hugging you tight as soon as it happened. “I love him, and... I just want things to go back to normal.”
“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know.”
You stayed there for a while, but ultimately decided to go talk to him, but you needed to put yourself back together before confronting him. Mia helped you to wash your face and fix your hair, comforting you and offering to stay with you once the two of you were done talking. You accepted; you didn’t want to be alone, and Anne, your flatmate, had been going out of town a lot recently, so your apartment was empty, and you knew it’d be a long night.
Once you felt better and ready to talk to him, Mia drove you to his place as you repeated in your head everything you wanted to tell him. You knocked loudly and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and you stormed inside as soon as he opened the door.
“What are you doing?”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?” 
You blinked at him twice. Did he not think you needed to talk? “About us, Lando. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Okay, now you were mad. “Lando, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy, but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times.”
“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”
There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other as you tried to remember the questions you were supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that you were standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”
“What do you want me to say?” 
“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on?”
You were both raising your voices, but Lando especially. “I told you already, I’ve been busy with the season-”
“I could’ve stayed here with you or gone with you to races if that meant spending more time together, like we have done before.”
“But why would you want to do that?”
“To keep you company, maybe?” 
“But all you do is stand around while I do my job.”
“Lando, do you know how many weeks I’ve spent away from home just so we can be together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even care to say thank you.”
“I never asked you to come,” he mumbled.
You scoffed before shaking your head. “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you stress yourself out about a race, you tend to overwork yourself-”
“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Come." He interrupted you, his tone punctuated with each word. “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times." His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again. “Don’t you have better things to do?”
“I just- I’m your girlfriend, I guess I thought you liked to be with me.”
“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time.”
You didn’t say anything, hoping you heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn't. “What?”
“You know, we do everything together and-”
“No, we used to do things together, not everything." You corrected him.
He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with you. “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow.”
You nodded, holding back the tears as you walked towards the door. “Happy anniversary,” you said before slamming it closed and running back to Mia’s car.
Lando sat on his couch with his head between his hands for a moment. How could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a gift he bought for you who knows how long ago.
He made his way to Mia’s flat; he assumed you would be there, and your car parked outside confirmed his suspicions, so he knocked on the door a couple of times before saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in all the things I have to do before leaving, and I didn’t realise what day it was." But he got no response. “Y/N please, I know you’re here. Will you please talk to me?”
“Go away, Lando.” Mia was the one to yell, making Lando realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway. 
“Okay, I’m leaving this here. I- I love you.”
You called in sick for your job the next day, your sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things you could think about. Well, that and Lando.
You were staring at the gift he bought for your one-year anniversary — what you were supposed to celebrate the day before. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he remembered you mentioning it on one of your first dates ever, but it was the letter inside that broke your heart. It looked... unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to give it a proper ending, so you were wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.
The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what you could have possibly done wrong, but even then you didn’t talk to him. He tried to, a couple of times, but you needed a little bit of time.
A couple of weeks went by, and you found yourself alone at your apartment, catching up on the work you missed for calling in sick so many times.
It was your birthday, and Mia insisted a million times you go out and celebrate, clear your head, and forget about Lando once in for all, but somehow it felt wrong; you had made plans with Lando a few months back to bring your family to a race so they could finally meet him, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore, so what was the point of celebrating? You just needed to focus and get things done anyway.
You were thankful that Mia had been for you through it all; you really were, but sometimes crying alone did more for you than having someone tell you ‘everything's gonna be okay.' You were tired of hearing that.
Hours later, you found yourself with a cup of coffee to finally catch up on the last project. It wasn’t really that much of a workload, and you didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but you were going to anyway. Perhaps you just wanted to be productive, or maybe that was you trying to occupy your mind from the possibility of your boyfriend cheating on you.
You looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. You sighed, typing away whatever you were supposed to on your laptop, your eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted you.
Unknown [Attachment: 1 photo]
Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while.
That text message induced such a great shock on your tired, worn-out body, tears falling down your face as soon as you read it. You didn’t want to open it as you were sure of what this was about, but your curiosity got the best of you.
Tapping on the notification, you prepared yourself mentally to confirm your terrible suspicions. And they were confirmed.
Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you were able to see Lando standing next to his new Ferrari, and he was with someone else, except you couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of... love? Those green eyes you thought he reserved for you only, but clearly you were wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.
You broke down crying, curled up on your bed as you wore one of Lando’s hoodies that still smelt like him. You now knew what the truth was, but you didn’t want to accept it. What happened to you two? When did he stop loving you?
It was like your heart was ripped from your chest; all that time you spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.
You didn’t know for how long you cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and you were just waking up, so you probably cried for hours. There was nothing left you could do to save your relationship, so you made up your mind to break up with him as soon as he came back from the American triple header.
Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here.
The message was left unanswered, as usual. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, returning to your video call with Mia.
“Do you know who that is?”
“No, sorry.” 
You sighed as you sipped your hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”
“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know.”
You sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Lando and the other girl. “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought. I’m already embarrassed as it is.”
“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Maybe I did-”
“No, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault.”
You nodded. “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”
Mia hated to see you going through that, how you felt like you were not enough or that it all ended because of you, and she hated Lando for causing all of that. “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising.”
Talking to her made you feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever you looked at the picture again, a million questions invading your mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love you? What did you do wrong?
A couple of days later, Lando finally replied to your text.
Lando: Just got back. I’m in my apartment
Your heart sank at the notification; you didn’t want to talk to him; you didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of you that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on you and she was just a friend. But deep down you knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, you decided to fulfil his wishes.
It was a long drive to his home; it felt longer than usual, but maybe you were just dreading the conversation you knew was about to happen.
You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Lando opening it almost right away.
"Hey,” he said faintly, worried he got caught.
“Hi.” You entered the apartment you once thought you would move into and looked around. You had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments you shared together, but right now it felt like you were disconnected from the space. “How was the triple header?”
“Not great- I don’t know. It was messy, I guess." He tried to give you a smile but stopped himself when he noticed your stare full of fury. “What did you want to talk about?”
Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you." Your voice was weak, but you did not dare let a tear slip past your waterline; he didn’t deserve to see you cry. 
“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that you almost believed him “Why?”
“Did you really just ask that?”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
“Lando, come on, we’ve been over for a while." You stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over your face as the tears struggled to stay on your eyes. “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore. Lando, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you a great gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?” 
“I didn’t know you were feeling like that.”
“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”
Lando rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand, but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time.”
“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” You showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.
“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry." His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for you, but you turned around and wiped the tears that managed to leave your eyes, a million questions flooding your mind again.
“So it’s true." You were just confirming to yourself what you already knew. Anger and pain washed over your body. Why her? Why her when you’ve been nothing but perfect to the man you loved the most?
“Baby, I can explain.” 
You turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging you not to make him say it while yours watered, “Who is she?” You repeated.
“You don’t wanna know.”
“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”
A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold yours. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more." You stared at him, even more tears falling as you tried to think who the girl could be. 
“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible; if you didn’t already know the answer, you would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right; maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know. 
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop it.”
“I know I fucked up, but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear.”
“Shut up, Lando. I just… I don’t understand.”
“Let me explain-”
“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” You took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing. “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”
"Baby, I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked.”
“That was before you ruined everything.”
“I know what i did is wrong-”
“Wrong?”
“But we can work this out.”
“What? No, Lando, stop.”
“Just give me another chance, please.”
“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Lando didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Lnado’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped your mind. Your heart ached so much that every time you breathed deeply, it was scorching you to the core “How could you do that?”
“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising.”
“You know I didn’t mean it.”
“Just stop… god.”
“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent. “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating? Would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. Lando, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”
“But you came all the way here.”
“Because I care, and you... you never cared, you never tried-”
“I care, I care so much. Baby, please, you have to believe me." He tried to reach out to you, but you pushed his hand away.
"No, you don’t, and if I’m here, it’s because I know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end.”
“But I don’t want it to end.”
“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me.”
He stared at you for a moment before continuing. “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to  me." He approached you again, his hope growing a little when you didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind your ear, softly brushing your cheek. “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can't.”
“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Lando, and in the meantime you were with her.”
“I’m sorry-”
“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you when in reality I was trying to save us!” You pushed him away.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it.”
“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed one of your hands. “What are you doing? Stop.”
“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again.”
“An accident? Lando, are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Please, don’t let me go." The grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer to him.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” 
“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“But everything I said... I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me. Baby, you have to understand.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying, you know I’m not." You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes when another tear rolled down his face. “I know I don’t deserve it but please... just one more chance and I can fix this.”
“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out, and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”
“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”
“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”
“Just think about how great we are together,” he said, trying to hold your torso, but once again you stopped him. 
“Lando, stop that.”
“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear.”
“No, it’s not gonna work.”
“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that.”
“No.” You were having a hard time blocking out how much love you still had for him, but you weren’t forgiving him; there was no way.
“I swear I don’t want anyone else." He held your hands and started kissing them, his lips giving you a sense of home that you missed. "Y/N, please, I love you.” 
You nodded weakly as you started crying again.
“You know I love you and I would do anything for you." He continued kissing you, a few tears falling on your hands. “Do you still love me?”
“I love you... Lan-” You released one of your hands from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face.
“See? It will work, we will make it work." You shook your head; you were feeling stupid for almost falling for that. "Baby, look at me, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”
A moment of silence fell into the room as you collected your thoughts again, and he just looked at you hopeful that he could get you back. “Who is she?” You dared to repeat the question as you looked at him again.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally answered. "Annie.”
Annie, your flatmate Annie. She had never met Lando before you, and she wasn’t interested in who he was when you first told her you started dating him, so you were the reason they knew each other for all those times he picked you up from your place, and even then you never considered them to be friends; they barely exchanged any words when they ran into each other. You felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Lando but by her too. You had lived with her for so long, literally since the day you moved to Monaco, so you thought of her as one of your closest friends; how could she do that? And these past weeks, when she had been mourning your relationship with Lando, she was there the whole time, and she knew exactly what was happening.
“How long?”
You were getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer your simple questions. “The day we went to meet my parents... I drove to your apartment to pick you up, but you weren’t there yet.”
“So you did it at my place?” It wasn’t really a question, and you felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in your own home.
“It was one moment of weakness.”
“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to your hips. “But it didn't stop there, did it?”
“I’m sorry.”
You swiped the tears away as you prepared to ask the question you had been asking yourself for weeks. “What does she give you that I can't?”
Lando shook his head quickly. “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for.”
“Then why did you do that?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught. “I don’t know." He whispered.
“Do you love her?”
“No, of course not. I love you." He was holding you tighter, convinced that if he held you long enough, you would want to stay.
“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”
“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”
“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving,” you said as you tried to free yourself.
“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out.”
“Lando, let go. I don’t wanna be here." Your words struggled to come out from how much you were crying. 
“Please don’t, I don’t wanna let you go." He looked up at you, his eyes begging for forgiveness. “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain.”
“Save it, Lando, it’s over.” 
“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay, just please, one more chance is all I’m asking for.” You finally freed yourself, and your only goal was to go back to your apartment and cry all your pain away. You turned around and headed to the door; his hand tried to come to stop you, but you flinched away. You couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. "Baby, please, I love you.”
You turned around to face him one last time, spotting Lando still on his knees in the middle of his living room. “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away.”
“I know, my love, but-”
“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again.”
You exited the room, leaving Lando alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if you would just give him a chance to explain himself, you’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case and that his mistake was bigger than any apology; you were right to leave him.
He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony... he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.
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moonstruckme · 2 days ago
Note
And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 
“Yeah.” 
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 
“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 
“Remus,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 
“No.” 
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 
“Yes, love. Relax.” 
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 
“Ow—Rem!” 
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 
You make your displeasure known through your silence. 
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 
“Is that good?” 
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 
“A little, yeah.” 
“Headache?” 
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 
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grapejuicenharry · 3 days ago
Note
Hello, how is your day going? I don't know if you are actually receiving requests, if not feel free to ignore this. What about you and Harry fighting in the car, maybe you're coming from a date and Harry was really late, the walk home is difficult with him and you start a fight, so she decides to get out of the car and walk home alone.
(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling errors that may have been made)
a/n: hello! My day is going well, thank u for asking. And yes, I do receive requests. No need to apologize—your english is great!
warnings: angst with a happy ending (sorry I couldn’t leave them like this!)
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶
It was 9 p.m., and you had been sitting at this restaurant for the past hour, waiting for Harry. Tonight was supposed to be your date night—something planned since last week. You'd even reminded him this morning, but here you were, alone.
It had been Harry's idea to take you out, to spend time together, to simply enjoy each other's company after weeks of him being swamped with studio work.
When he'd suggested it, you were over the moon, practically giddy at the thought of a night just for the two of you. Just boyfriend and girlfriend. 
You'd dressed up for him in the sheer black dress he loves so much, paired with your black stilettos that accentuated your legs. Minimal make up, save for the bold red lips that added a sensual edge to your look. You’d spent over two hours getting ready, perfecting every detail for tonight. But once again, you sat... disappointed. 
He was late. not just ten or fifteen minutes, but a whole one hour. 
Tears started to gather up in your waterline as the waiter approached your table for the third time, politely asking if you were ready to order. You forced a tight smile, declining him once again, murmuring that you were waiting for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but feel like the staff was probably laughing behind your back—this poor woman, sitting alone, waiting like a fool. 
Deep down, you knew it wasn’t an emergency or unavoidable crisis keeping Harry away. He’d used the same excuse too many times: Got busy at the studio, forgot to check my phone. Honestly, you were tired at this point of always coming second, but you know your pathetic heart will forgive him the second he starts blubbering out apologizes because you loved him—and you know he loved you, too. 
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
You discretely wiped a stray tear that has rolled down your cheeks as the sound of commotion at the door caught your attention. Your eyes glanced to the entrance, and there he was—Harry, rushing inside, his eyes searching for her. 
The second he spotted you, he knew he’d fucked up. 
Harry strode over to your table, looking down at you with guilt written all over his face. His shoulders sagged as he spoke. 
“Y/N—fuck, I’m sorr—“ 
You stood up immediately, not wanting to hear a word from him. Grabbing your purse from the table, you turned around and walked away. Ignoring him.
Outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, your hair whipping against your face as tears spilled freely down your cold cheeks. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, desperate to hold it together. 
“Y/N, please—listen to me.” Harry pleads from behind her, his voice begging. He reached out to touch your arm, but you instinctively stepped back, putting more space between you. 
"Don't,” you muttered, wiping your tears. 
Harry froze, his hand hanging in the air for a second before dropping back. 
His heart breaks looking at your state, your mascara slightly smudged, your nose red because of crying, and your cheeks red with biting cold. You looked so vulnerable, and yet you wouldn’t let him near you. The realization crumbles him from inside. 
“I don’t want to hear anything; I want to go home. Just take me home or I’ll book a cab.” 
You whisper, sniffling, your voice hoarse and shaky. 
Harry’s throat tightened, but he nodded, silently stepping forward to open the car door for you. Without a word, you slid into the passenger seat. You fumbled with your seatbelt and stared outside the window. not glancing a look over him as he starts driving. 
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
The drive home is suffocatingly silent. The air inside felt heavy with tension and unspoken words. The only sounds were the low murmur of the radio and the faint hum of the engine in the background. 
Harry's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The tension was evident as his other hand rested idling on his thigh, occasionally rubbing at his jaw in frustration. He wanted so badly to reach for your hand, to rest his palm on your thigh as he'd done countless times before. But he didn't. He couldn't.
It must have been forty minutes or an hour of driving in silence when you spoke, not able to sit in the tension atmosphere anymore. “Are we not going to talk about this?” You snaps.
Harry exhales sharply through his nose, trying to gauge a response: “What do you want me to say, love?" I said I was sorry.” 
Y/N scoffs at his words, her frustration bubbling over. “That’s the problem, Harry. You think an apology fixes everything. It’s not about saying sorry—it’s about not doing it in the first place. You knew how important tonight was for me.” 
Harry’s knuckles turn white on the wheel. “I didn’t get time to check my phone. I was so caught up in the studio—“
“Right, the studio.” Y/N interrupts bitterly, “Always the studio. Always something important than me.” 
The words hang heavy in the air; Harry’s shoulders stiffen. His lips press into a thin line as he pulls the car over the side of the door, and tires crunching against the gravel.
“What are you doing?” You ask, heart pounding.
Harry throws his car into the park and turns to you, his green eyes stormy and dark. “I don’t know what you want from me; I’m doing the best I can.” His voice was low but sharp. 
Your throat tightening at his words, shaking head, “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough.” You whispers, trying to keep your tears at bay.
His eyes flicker, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his frustration, but you can’t take it back now. The tension feels unbearable. Before you could think, You unbuckles your seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. 
“Where are you going?” Harry asks.
“Home.” Y/N bites out, stepping out of the car. The crisp air waves through your hair, goosebumps rising in your body. “I’ll walk.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters back before opening the side of his door and stepping outside. 
“Ridiculous?” You whirl around, glaring at him. “What’s ridiculous is me sitting there, pretending that I’m not hurt. Whats ridiculous is you acting like this doesn’t matter” 
Harry’s chest heaves as he looks at you, searching for the right thing to say, but it doesn’t come fast enough; you turn around and start walking, your heels clicking against the pavement. 
You hear Harry calling your name, but you don’t turn around, knowing there is nothing for him to say that would make you feel better—nothing. The chill of air whooshes past you as you hug yourself tighter, wrapping your arms around you, and quicken your steps. 
The sound of his boots crunching against the ground, crisp leaves crushing beneath him as he follows you, the sound growing closer and closer, then you hear him say softly. 
“Y/N, please..stop."
Against your better judgement, you stop. You stop in your tracks at his words and turn around. Harry jogs and comes closer to you; this time you let him... wanting to feel him close. His face morphs into something more painful than that clenched jaw like earlier. The lines of frustration are replaced by something softer, something that aches your chest. 
“I get it,” his voice low, laced with hurt. “You’re hurt. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been late, and I shouldn’t have brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It did; you matter to me.” 
The sincerity in his words cracks your heart walls, the river of tears that you’ve been holding threatening to spill over.
"Harry, it's not just about tonight," you say, your voice trembling. "It's about feeling like I'm always coming second to everything else in your life."
His shoulders drop, and he steps closer, his green eyes fixed on yours. "You're not second, love," he says; the words sound like a plea. "You're the only thing that keeps me going half the time. And I know I've been worse at showing that, but I'll do better. I promise you, I will."
You blink at him, trying to brush away the tears. "You say that, but—"
Before you can finish, his hand gently takes yours. "Look at me," he says softly, and when you do, there's nothing but sincerity written all over his face.
"I'll prove it," he says. "Not just tonight, not just tomorrow—every day. I'll make time. For you. For us. You're the most important thing to me, Y/N. I swear it."
His words sink in, warming the cold that's settled deep in your chest. For a moment, neither of you speaks. 
Then, his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and you realize how much you missed the warmth of his touch; he gently touches them and kisses each of your fingers softly.
"Can I take you home now?" he asks tentatively, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, the fight in you ebbing away.
"Okay," you whispered.
He lets out a relieved sigh and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'll make it up to you, love. I promise."
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hard-core-super-star · 2 days ago
Text
brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]
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pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff
summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare
wordcount: 4.1k
a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3
* * * * * * *
Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.
That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 
The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.
Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.
And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.
It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.
(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)
You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.
Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.
She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.
Well, except because you really missed Wanda.
Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.
Your bed.
That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 
Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.
That was the third thing you learned.
Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.
It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.
You didn't understand how real that was until now.
Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.
You were theirs.
You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.
A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."
"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your grip on me begs to differ."
At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.
"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."
 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.
Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.
Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"
Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.
After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.
"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."
Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"
You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.
However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.
"Yes, Daddy. I know."
She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"
You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."
Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.
"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.
"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."
"Good. Thank you, Friday."
The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.
"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"
You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.
You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.
In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.
Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.
"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."
You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.
You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.
The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.
"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."
Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.
"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"
"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"
"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."
Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."
The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."
"When are you going to let that go?"
"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."
Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.
Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.
You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.
They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.
Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."
"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.
"I'm talking to all of you."
"Nice save, 'Tasha."
"Shut up."
There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.
"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"
You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.
"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.
"I'm guessing this means training's going well."
"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."
The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.
It's far too fun.
"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"
Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.
You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.
Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."
"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.
A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.
"Keep telling yourself that, darling."
"Oh, I will."
Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.
Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.
Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."
You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.
You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.
Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.
The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.
"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."
"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"
You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.
Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.
"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."
The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.
"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.
"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"
"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"
The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.
You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.
"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.
You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.
Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."
Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.
"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."
"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."
"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."
The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."
Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.
"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."
You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.
"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."
Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.
You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.
The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.
They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.
"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."
"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."
That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.
Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.
Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"
Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."
The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.
Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.
"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.
Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"
"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."
"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.
Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"
The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."
You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.
"Sorry," you mumble.
Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."
The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 
Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."
"Don't rush her, little witch."
Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."
A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.
But the Widow really can't help herself.
"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."
Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.
Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.
Your bed.
With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.
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daydreams-after-dark · 3 days ago
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Free Use Jail Cell, Extra
Dinner date with Minho
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | Dinner date with Minho
Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader
Premise: A continuation of the free use jail cell series.
Word Count: this installment 4.3k approx.
Chapter Summary: You are free from the ot8 free use jail, Minho helps you out and then asks you over for dinner.
CW below the cut.
This is also in response to this ask here.
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CW: masturbation with sex toys, video sex, spanking, vaginal penetration with an object, oral sex (m rec), vaginal sex (unprotected), restraints, stretch kink (because I'm obsessed).
After he’s finished kissing you and watching you drive away, Minho heads back into the police station. He feels giddy, like a school boy who’s just had his first kiss. It's a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time and he is both excited and fearful of it. Usually, when things start off this good, they inevitably end in disaster. But you know what he’s like when it comes to sex, and you weren’t scared off. That’s one fundamental difference from his past partners.
“Why the fuck are you smirking like that?” Says Jeongin looking up from his seat in the Chief’s office. 
Everyone is sitting around the coffee table as Chan had gathered everyone for a meeting before going home.
“Not sure what you’re talking about?” Minho grunts, taking a seat next to Jisung, and trying to act like he didn’t just have the most delicious kiss of his life.
 Chan looks at him suspiciously.
“Yeah, you’ve been a little weird ever since you and Seungmin ‘interrogated’ her.” Hyunjin adds.
“Yeah, man. And what was that back in the gang bang?” Changbin joins in.
“The fuck you talking about?” Growls Minho.
“Gees, someone’s sensitive.” Hyunjin mumbles.
“I’m talking about how soft you were with her. You barely said a fucking word, then you fucked her so… so gently. That wasn’t in her request list.” Changbin replies.
Everyone turns to MInho and he feels the cogs in their heads turning. 
“Well, Minho is good at picking up what people need, especially without them saying anything.” Offers Felix.
“That’s right.” Reiterates Chan sternly, staring directly at Minho.
Minho shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling caught out.
“Fine. I just think he was a little too soft, that's all.” Changbin grumbles, settling back into his seat.
“Okay, boys.” Chan claps, signaling it’s time to move on. “I know we’ve only just finished our contract with Y/n, but I wanted to take the opportunity to discuss our next client and their requests.” 
But Minho is barely listening. His mind keeps going back to you. Back to the way your lips felt against his own. The way your tongue sought his. The way you hooked a leg over his arm, seeking friction against your sweet little pussy. Fuck. Focus.
“So we have several women requesting two of us at once, and a couple are just after one. I thought we could divvy up the contracts and conduct them over the same few days.”
Everyone nods in agreement. It makes sense, that way if another client seeks five or six of them then they will have availability. 
“Okay. The first is a request for two doctors. I think Seungmin and Jeongin would be good for that, yes?” He looks up at the pair and they both nod. Neither of them are new to that role. “Then a request for a fae themed scenario. I’m thinking we could use that cabin in the woods, the one we used for the kidnapping one, yeah? Felix, I think you’d be perfect.”
”No worries. I’ll get the place ready, and I’m pretty sure I saw the perfect costume online.” He makes a note on his phone to follow up.
“Good, make sure it can be sent express post. Um, a vampire request. Hyunjin?” he looks up at him and Hyunjin nods in acceptance. 
“Then there’s this one I quote ‘threesome where one guy is in me and another guy in him.’”
“Ooo ooo me!” Jisung raises his hand enthusiastically, almost jumping out of his seat.
“Alright, Jisung. Who else is happy to assist?”
Jisung turns to Minho. “Please, hyung!!! Be my partner!” He bats his eyelids at him.
“Fine.” Minho rolls his eyes. Actually he is secretly glad he does’t have to directly fuck another woman so soon after you.
“Yes!” Jisung fist pumps the air.
“Lastly, a personal trainer fantasy. Bin, you and I can take that one. Okay, everyone will receive emails with the full details, so make sure you read them thoroughly, and converse with your partner if you have one. Good job, boys. Enjoy your time off, and see you soon.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I wonder if she likes cats? Minho is still thinking about you when he lets himself into his apartment and is greeted by his fur baby. “Hey, Soonie,” he says, squatting down and patting his cat. “You miss me, huh? It’s okay, Daddy’s home now.” 
He potters around his apartment, putting on a load of clothes washing, vacuuming, and then cooking himself a meal. All while trying not to look at his phone where he now has your phone number he stole from your file. 
At some point while he’s cooking, he finds his phone in his hand and is staring at the number.
Is it too soon to call you? Of course it is. What kind of desperate fool are you?
He sighs and locks his phone, setting it back on the countertop and resumes stirring his pot of sauce. Maybe he could ask you over for a meal? His eyes drift back to his phone. Stop. No. Fuck. You are driving him crazy. He shuts his phone away in a kitchen drawer and goes to eat his dinner.
After successfully ignoring the strong pull coming from the kitchen drawer, Minho takes a shower, rubs one out to the thought of you on the interrogation table, then settles down on his couch to open his laptop.
He sighs and rubs his eyes, willing himself to focus, while Soonie decides it's the perfect time for pats. “What a cute little pussy, hmm.” Minho coos as it tries to climb onto his laptop as he reads the notes for his upcoming threesome. But it’s not long until his eyes drift towards his kitchen, to where his phone is still sitting in the drawer.
“Fuck it”. He says, sliding out from under his cat. He can’t think of anything else but messaging or calling you. He can’t focus on this next assignment. Fuck, he could barely think about his dinner without his mind drifting off to wondering how your sweet cunt would taste.
He doesn’t care if he looks desperate. Fuck, he is desperate. He opens the drawer and pulls out his phone, and after taking a deep, grounding breath, he dials your number.
>>>>>>>>>>>>
‘Resisted arrest. Force required to detain the suspect. However, once handcuffed she was extremely enthusiastic to obey. Her mouth was very skilled and cunt was cooperative.’ - Changbin
‘I will be keeping an eye on her to ensure she is arrested and questioned for any criminal activity she becomes involved in.’ - Minho
‘The suspect was easily coerced into double penetration, climaxing multiple times. She was displeased when we removed our penises from her to restrain her to the ceiling chains, but settled once we were back inside her.
The suspect is the most responsive we have encountered so far, and is definitely a favorite.’ - Hyunjin
‘How we ended up with the prettiest suspect in the world I will never know! Her pussy is the most perfect I have ever felt. So tight, warm and soaking wet.’ Han
‘CONCERNS: Detective Lee Minho.’ - Chan
“Fucking hell.” You whistle low, closing the police report. “Chief Chan is concerned with Minho?” you mumble to yourself. Was he not acting his usual self with you? Did the Chi-, Chan, know about the kiss?
You have done absolutely nothing since arriving home from the police station several hours ago. Except for looking through your file and reliving all those beautiful cocks that filled you up perfectly. You’re still buzzing from the entire experience, and you’re not quite ready to come back to reality. 
You flick to the photos Felix took of you. He was right, they are beautiful. Erotic even. You bite your lip as your eyes run over your bruises, bites marks, and injuries. You feel a pulsing sensation in your core. You need to touch yourself. Already? You say to your pussy, looking down in disbelief.
You gather all the items you need - a vibrating anal plug, lube, and your thickest dildo, and climb into bed. You moan when you press a lubed finger to your ass. As usual, it doesn’t take long until you’ve slipped a finger inside, preparing yourself to take the plug. Once you deem yourself ready, you push the plug inside and turn on the vibrator. Your breath quickens as the stretch, fullness and vibrations combined begin to send you feral.
You play with your clit. Rough, fast motions, all while your mind visualizes the photographs Felix took. You’re going to come hard and fast, but you want to prolong it. You slow your fingers right down to rubbing lazy circles on your clit, allowing your body to calm down.
You reach for the dildo and drench it in lube. Not that you need it, your pussy is absolutely dripping in arousal. You open your legs wider and push the dildo deep into your vagina. You cry out at the intrusion, your walls barely having time to adjust before you’re pulling it out and ramming it back inside you. Again, harder. You whimper from the pleasure-pain. You reach behind you and increase the speed of the anal vibrator, then you start to tug on it, stretching your anus slightly.
“Fuck!” You moan, feeling yourself about to climax. “Close. So fucking close.” You babble to yourself. You’re almost there. The point of no return. Your body tenses, your legs shake.
Your phone rings.
Your eyes shoot open and you grab your phone. Minho! A video call? Fuck. You scramble to sit up, fix your hair, and forgetting you are naked, you answer the phone.
Minho’s eyes almost pop out of his head, but he recovers quickly. “Nice tits, kitten.” He smirks.
Your arm quickly comes to cover yourself. 
“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t seen absolutely everything.” He teases. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time - actually, what are you doing? You’re all flushed.” His eyes narrow.
“Nothing!” You squeak. 
“I don’t believe you.” he quips.
“Okay, fine I was masturbating.” You roll your eyes.
“Really? Already? Aren’t you sore?” 
“Nope. I'm fine.”
“Show me.”
“What?” You say shocked.
“I said show me.” He repeats seriously.
Nervously, You position the camera so he can see how wet you are.
“Fuck! You’ve got a plug in. Have you come yet?” He says in disbelief.
“Nope. Was almost there when you called. It’s like you knew.” You pouted.
“Oh kitten. Fuck. Such a good girl waiting for me before coming. Or is it you can’t come without me, hmm?”
“S’hard to come without someone watching.” You sulk, playing along.
“Fuck! Lucky I called. Go on. Play with yourself.”
You start to rub your clit again. Every so often you dip your fingers inside you to gather some wetness then bring it up to your clit.
“Have you got something you can fuck yourself with?” Minho says in a deep voice. 
You reach for your thick dildo and resume fucking yourself like you were doing earlier.
“Deeper. Wanna see you take it deeper.” Minho instructs. 
You want to obey, be a good girl for him, so you push the dildo in further so it hits your cervix on every thrust. “Need to come, Minho. Need to come.” You cry, thrusting into yourself frantically. “S’close..”
“I can hear how wet you are, kitten. That’s it, rub your clit. Good girl. I want you to imagine that’s me inside you.”
“Oh, God. Oh, fuck!” You whimper. “Let me come.”
“Scream for me, y/n.”
You explode into a million pieces, screaming, just as Minho demanded. Your body shakes for what feels like an eternity as waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you.
Eventually, you collapse on your mattress in exhaustion, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try and catch your breath.
“Fuck. You alright?” Minho laughs softly.
“No.” You choke. “So intense.”
“Well, glad I got to see that. Luckily I called when I did.”
“Why did you call?” You pick up your phone so you can look at him.
He runs his hands through his hair. “Oh yeah. So, um, the reason I actually called was to see if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner one night?”
You’re taken by surprise. Minho wants to have dinner with you?
“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. It’s probably not wh-”
“I’d love to.” You smile.
“Yeah?” He says in disbelief.
“Yeah.”
>>>>>>
“This looks delicious, Minho. You have lots of skills it seems.” You say grinning at the plate of pasta and bolognese in front of you. Your eyes almost roll back into your head when you take a bite. “Oh my god. This is fucking amazing!” you say with a mouthful of food. “Did you make the pasta from scratch?”
Minho smiles triumphantly. “Yes. The sauce too. Glad you like it.”
“It’s delicious.”  You grin and try your best to not scoff the entire plate down in one mouthful. 
“You look beautiful tonight.” He says gazing at you. You feel a heat flush over you. You aren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a nice top and denim shorts. You hoped it would be suitable enough for the occasion.
“Thank you. I think it’s the first time you’ve seen me in clothing?” You laugh. “You look good too.” You notice his cheeks flush a little.
“So,” You put your fork down. “How is it you came to be in your…um…profession?” You ask curiously.
Minho sits back in his chair, and pauses in thought. “Well, Chan started the business with Jisung - Han - and Changbin. Business grew quicker than they expected and so they needed to hire more staff.”
“Interesting. But what made you join?” You lean your elbows on the table, resting your chin in your hands. You’re curious to know more.
“Hmm. I suppose I thought it would make life easier, sexually speaking. It’s hard to find a partner that wants both a sex life like mine and also a sickly sweet romantic dynamic. It was too confusing for my previous partners. The ones I could see myself having a future with were put off by my tendencies. So I joined the group and got my satisfaction there. And it’s thrilling to please client’s who share similar desires. It really is.”
“But what about the sickly sweet romance? You don’t get that in the job.”
Minho shrugs. “I guess not. But at least I don’t keep being rejected by women this way.”
You can’t believe how anyone could reject Minho. He is kind and thoughtful. Very domesticated. You look around at his tidy home and then at the meal on your plate. But you get what he means. You know it too well.
“So have you got your next contract?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows.
He cracks a huge grin. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well? What is it? What do you have to do?” Your eyes widen with enthusiasm.
“Hey, hey, Kitten.” He holds his hands up in a bid to calm you down. “That’s confidential.”
“Oh come on, it’s not like I know them. Please.” You bat your eyelids.
“Okay, fine. It’s a threesome.” he concedes.
“A threesome? Yes, go ahead. Tell me more..” You gesture for him to continue.
“The exact wording of the brief is ‘I want someone in me, and someone inside him.’ Okay maybe that wasn’t the exact wording, but you get the gist.”
Your mouth hangs open in excitement. “So you’re telling me—”
“Jisung’s going to be in the client’s vagina, and I am going to be in Jisung’s ass.” He states.
“Woah! So you guys fuck each other too?” You shriek.
“Sometimes.” 
“Wait! I could’ve asked for you to fuck each other? Oh man, no one told me that.” You sit back and scowl.
“Well, you’ll have to book us again.” He teases.
“I just might. So who have you fucked in the group?” You ask excitedly, taking another mouthful of pasta.
“Jisung, a few times. Chan too.” He says matter of fact.
“Chan?! No way! Has anyone fucked you?” You say with your mouth full.
“Chan. Seungmin.”
“Seungmin?” You almost choke.
“It was an experience. Although you know perfectly well how he likes to fuck an ass.”
You nod laughing, then falling quiet as the image of Seungmin inside Minho flashes through your mind. Jisung too. He’d look so pretty being ruined by Minho.
“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to meet your gaze.
“Yeah. Just trying to work out my next fantasy request for you guys. I quite like the idea of someone in me, someone in them, another in my mouth, then everyone else inside each other.”
“Do you now? I might have to keep a mental note of that.” Minho’s eyes sparkle deviously.
>>>>
“That really was a delicious meal, Minho. Thank you for cooking.” You say placing your empty plate by the sink. “Would you like me to lend a hand washing up?” You start looking for dishwashing detergent and sponges.
Minho’s arms wrap around you from behind and he nuzzles his mouth into your neck. You smile at the warm gesture. 
“I’d like you to lend a hand with something else.” He whispers against your ear. “But first.” He spins you around and presses your back against the bench. “I’ve been dying to kiss these lips all night.” he smashes down on you in a heated kiss, setting your insides on fire.
He pulls back to peel your top off over your head and throws it to the side. Then he’s unclasping your bra with skilled fingers, and that’s gone from your body in a matter of moments.
You suck in a breath as he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, nipping at it rough and urgently. Your head lolls back and you sigh. Your hands find the top of his head, weaving your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He bites down hard on your nipple and you whimper. Your core throbs for more of his roughness.
He comes up for air, a smear of blood across his lip, and kisses you wildly. “Turn around.” He growls, turning you so you’re facing away from him. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tugs on your arms so they are above your head. He threads the cuffs through the overhead cupboard handle and attaches them to your wrists. You tug on the restraints, but they are extremely secure, and now you are at the mercy of Detective Minho.
“Look at you.” He whispers as he cups a breast and squeezes it. “Looks like you need questioning again, hmm?” he snarls and your cunt squeezes.
Silently, he moves to the pantry, scanning the shelves. He nods when he finds what he’s looking for, a bottle of fractionated coconut oil. He takes it from the shelf and returns to resume his interrogation.
He sets the bottle of oil on the countertop and crouches behind you to yank your shorts and panties down your legs. He guides you step out of them. Leaving you naked and chained to his kitchen cupboard. 
You poke your ass out as he slides his palms up the backs of your thighs, finding their grip on your cheeks and spreading you wide. You’re dripping wet. You know it. You can feel it, and the grunt that Minho emits tells you he knows you're soaking. The need for him to touch you is too great and you make some pathetic noise. But he simply stands back up, leaving your deprived pussy untouched.
He reaches into the kitchen drawer again, pulling out a silicone spatula and places that next to the oil. Then to your delight he strips off his own clothes so he is naked too. You lick your lips and take in the magnificent form that is Lee Minho.
“Oh you like that, hmm? Too bad you’re unable to touch me.” He smirks as he unscrews the bottle of coconut oil and applies some to his hands.
You moan as he runs his oiled hands down your back and over your ass, then whimper as he kneads the skin near your hips. He repeats the motion, slicking up your body with the oil and massaging your breasts and eventually your pussy. 
“Fuck! Yes. Min. God.” You choke when he slides a finger inside you. You grind back against him, only for him to remove his hand and leave you empty. Your eyes follow his hand as it grasps the handle of the spatula, then you feel him dragging it down your spine.
Slap!
He hits you hard on your ass. You moan, digging your teeth into your lip. 
He gently strokes you with the spatula to sooth the skin, then he pulls it back.
Slap!
He massages the red skin with his free hand. 
“God, so fucking red. So pretty.”
Slap!
You cry out louder, the sting so much more harsh than the last.
And again. Slap! 
You whimper, your legs feeling like jelly.
Minho is about to land another blow when a voice from the living room interrupts you.
You both freeze.
“Hey, Hyung? I had an idea for our — Woah!” Jisung stops in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. “Oh fuck I’m sorry! I didn’t realize…wait… Y/n? Is that you?” His eyes narrow as you turn your head sheepishly. 
“Hi Han, Jisung? Can I call you that?” You smile, like nothing is happening.
Jusung blinks rapidly. Then he looks at Minho who is standing in the middle of the kitchen naked and outraged, and then back at you. Finally his gaze settles on your bright red bottom.
“Yah!” Yells Minho, throwing a tea towel over your rear end to try to offer some sort of coverage.
“Hyung, Man, it’s not like I haven’t seen all of her before. Hey! Actually, what is she doing here?” Jisung’s tone turns accusatory.
Minho glares at him. It’s all it takes for Jisung to concede. He throws his hands up “Okay, I’m leaving. Even though it looks like a lot of fun and… you know I could sit on the floor underneath her… suck her clit while you continue doing your dominant thing… No? Okay. Well. I’ll go. Bye Y/n.” He waves at you. 
“Bye, Jisung. Lovely to see you again.” You wink at him and the tea towel slips off, giving the stunned man a last view of you before Minho is ushering him out.
“You did that on purpose, kitten.” He growls, returning to the kitchen and pulling your head back by your hair. “Bet you wanted me to let him stay, huh?” 
“No…of course not. Just want you.” You whine. The reality though, is that you would have loved to feel Jisung’s mouth against your pussy. You close your eyes at the thought and squeeze your legs together.
Minho notices it and scoffs. “I know you’re lying. Which means… punishment.”
Once again he goes to the kitchen draw, this time taking out a wooden spoon and silicone coated tongs. Your eyes widen. 
“Five. You’ll receive five strikes with the wooden spoon. If you say orange or red, I stop immediately.” He gives his hand an experimental slap with the item. “Then,” he picks up the tongs, holding them in the air and letting them spring open.
You cunt clenches. The fact that Minho remembers you have a stretch kink makes your heart beat faster.  
He makes his way behind you and you prepare yourself for the wooden spoon.
“You have to count for me.” He states.
He brings the wooden spoon down onto your already sore ass with a hard slap. Your legs almost give way. “One.” you cry.
He strikes you again and again. A loud slap fills the room each time the wood makes contact with your skin. Tears stream down your face and you can barely count, each number coming out like a choked sob. 
“F-five.” You cry out the final number.
Minho returns the wooden spoon to the bench, then holds you in his arms. His hard, naked body against yours is comforting, his words of praise are soothing.
“Good girl. You took that so well.” He whispers, kissing your shoulder and massaging where he’d spanked you. “How was it? Not too much?” he checks in with you. “How are you feeling?”
“S’good..S’wet…Aching…p-pussy needs filling up. Need to come.” you babble.
Minho chuckles, his eyes smiling with admiration. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. One last thing before I fuck you. I know you can take it.”
He drizzles the end of the tongs with oil, then crouches down behind you. He holds the tongs closed and runs them through your glistening labia. You let out a moan. Then he catches your clit. He allows the tongs to open just enough so can capture it, pinching it hard. 
Jolts of arousal shoot through you and you cry out.
Then you feel the tongs at your entrance and you automatically push your ass out further, giving Minho more access. Keeping the tongs closed, he slides them inside you. You must look so filthy with a pair of kitchen utensils shoved up your vagina. 
He’s not gentle when he fucks you with them. He’s messy, sloppy, rough, but he manages to find your g-spot every time. You’re surely about to come, but he slows down, bringing the tongs to a standstill. You whimper, frustrated from having your orgasm stolen from you. Then you feel it. The tongs opening inside you. 
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You cry.
“Color?”
“Green. Fucking green.” You scream.
He chuckles as he scissors you open. 
“Fuck.” He hisses. His free hand spreads your cheek wide. “Pussy’s so good when it’s stretched like this.”
“Maybe you should’ve been a doctor.” You pant.
“Sometimes I am darlin’. You wait till I use a real speculum on this pretty cunt. Open you right up so I can see inside.”
His fingers land on your clit. The added sensation has you on the verge of release. “Minho… please. Need to come.” You beg.
“Yeah? Pussy needs to come, huh? Do it.” He starts an onslaught of scissoring then thrusting, while his deft fingers on your clit tighten that coil inside you.
You're perspiring, shaking, sobbing as you’re thrown off the precipice in an earth shattering orgasm.
“That’s it. Making a mess for me. Mmm… can hardly move these tongs you’re gripping so tight.”
You can’t even respond, your panting and shivering so hard, barely able to stand.
He eases the utensil out of you, tossing them into the kitchen sink, along with the items he used to cook for you earlier, then he’s lining himself up to your entrance.
“Just relax for me. Yes… fuck yes… that’s my girl… let me in…” he pushes himself all the way inside you. You welcome the smooth silky hardness against your walls, and he slides in and out with ease, despite your tight grip on him. 
Holding onto your hips he fucks into you harder until he’s built up a brutal pace that reminds you of when you were in the interrogation room. Except this time, he leans his body against your back and massages your breasts, caresses your stomach, and plants hot wet kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.
The roughness and the softness combined sends all sorts of unfamiliar feelings through your body. You like it, it feels good, and you feel tears pricking your eyes. You’re going to come again. Any second now the tension is going to snap.
“You take me so well, Kitten. It's like you were made for me.”
That does it. You come hard around his cock with a loud wailing sound. He fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm. “Gonna fill you. Gonna fill this perfect little cunt. My cunt.” He slams into you, almost knocking you off your feet then pulls out. He quickly works on freeing your wrists, turning you and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he impales you on his cock, fucking you whilst he makes his way to the dining table.
He lays you down on the table, and starts to slam into you hard again. His rhythm is hard, fast, and so so deep. “Gonna fill you..” he growls as he throws his head back and empties himself inside you. He stills, but you can still feel him pulsing and filling you to the brim.
He leans over you, collapsing on your chest, and you bring your arms around him, holding him silently for a few minutes.
“Let’s go wash you.” He says eventually, pulling himself out, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom.
Once the temperature of the water is comfortable, he helps you climb in with him and proceeds to wash your body.
It isn’t long until you’ve regained your composure and are able to stand steady on your feet. It’s only now that you can take in the man before you. You take the sponge from him, lather it up with body wash and start to wash his body. With a look of surprise and a hint of hesitation, he lets out an exhale and allows you to wash him.
He watches you as you run the sponge over his chest, down his torso, and drop to your knees in front of him. You swear you hear him whimper when your eyes land on his cock.
You drop the sponge and place your hands on his strong thighs. You need him in your mouth. He cups your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and through hooded eyelids you silently seek permission to take care of him. He releases your chin and lets out a shaky breath when you wrap your hand around the base of his semi erect cock. Slowly, you lick the length of the underside. Then swirl your tongue around the tip. He grows rapidly, and it has you dying to choke on it.
Minho simply stands still while you work his cock, providing absolutely no help. But that doesn’t deter you. Or slow you down. You decide you’re going to choke on him all by yourself. You pop off with a plop, fill your lungs with air, then take him fully into your mouth. Cupping his delicious ass cheeks with your hands, you pull him towards you while you bob your head up and down his shaft. 
You hear his breath become heavier, and a hand wraps around your wet hair, his other he rests against the tiled wall behind you. 
“Look at you. So hungry for cock, you’re choking yourself.” He purrs. “I’m close… fuck, im so close.” His hips begin to press forwards, pushing his dick further into your throat. He cums quickly, spurting thick ropes cum into your mouth. “Holy shit!” He chokes as he empties himself.
After you’ve milked him of every drop and swallowed him down, he pulls you back to your feet. He looks almost bewildered when he looks into your eyes. “Y/n. How are you so perfect for me?” He whispers. 
You swallow hard. You’re thinking something similar about him. Instead, you shrug. “Well I’m not sure detective. Maybe you’ll have to investigate further?” you quip.
He chuckles. “Maybe it's better to just go with it and not question it.”
You nod in agreement. “Let’s not overthink it, then.”
You both dry off, and Minho leads you to his bed, a big King size bed with black sheets and a black quilt. 
“Oh, you’re not sending me on my way?” You tease.
”Fuck no. I need…need to hold you.” He says softly, pulling you onto the bed with him.
He falls asleep quickly with his arms around you and your head on his chest. His steady breath is soothing as his chest rises and falls. You’re not sure what is happening, how this man seems to be able to fill so many of your needs, or how easy he is to be around. Yet here you are, and you’re thankful you took a chance with the sex fantasy agency. 
Your thoughts shift to Minho’s next assignment. Jisung in some woman’s cunt, and Minho in Jisung. Fuck, that sounds like a dream. Then your mind goes to Jisung walking in on you and Minho earlier. What would have happened if Minho asked him to stay?
You sigh, feeling confused. You've got strong feelings for Minho, yet you feel yourself grow wet at the thought of Jisung, and the rest of them.
You find Minho’s hand and thread your fingers through his. That’ll be a problem for future you. Right now you’re ready to fall asleep in the arms of someone that finally accepts you for who you are.
>>>>>>
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rootedinrevisions · 2 days ago
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No Nut November...or Not
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SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?
A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)
WORD COUNT: 6.1k
TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS
If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.
Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played
Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi
Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob
Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)
The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.
Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”
Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”
His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.
“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”
“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.
Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”
Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”
Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”
The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”
Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”
“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”
“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least
“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.
“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”
Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”
They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.
If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?
“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”
Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.
“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.
Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”
The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.
Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.
You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.
The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.
You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.
Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.
“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.
Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”
Game on.
Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 
“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.
“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.
You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.
Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.
“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.
Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 
“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.
From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”
Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 
“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.
You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.
Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”
You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.
When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.
Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.
The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.
“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.
“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.
“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.
You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.
It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.
Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.
The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.
As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”
Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.
You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.
Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.
A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.
When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.
Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.
Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.
You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.
You knew exactly what you were doing.
Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.
As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.
Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.
You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.
“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.
“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.
Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”
You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”
The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.
As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.
Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.
Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.
With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”
Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.
The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.
Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.
Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.
You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.
Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”
But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.
When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.
“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”
You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.
Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.
As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.
Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.
“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.
You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.
He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”
Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.
Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”
The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.
“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”
You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.
“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”
“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”
You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”
The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.
Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."
You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.
His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."
The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.
“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.
The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.
As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.
The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.
When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.
“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.
You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.
You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.
You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.
You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 
Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.
“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.
You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.
“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.
You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 
Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.
You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.
With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.
“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.
Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.
And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.
Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.
You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.
“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.
“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.
Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.
“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.
Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.
As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.
You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.
Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.
“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.
As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.
The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.
As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.
But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.
“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.
Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.
You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.
“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.
You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”
The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.
Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.
“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”
Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”
You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.
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littlelamy · 12 hours ago
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I got some thoughts spinning from seeing how Drew looks as Eugene in Queer with glasses and all. So Soft Nerdy Rafe request?  Very golden retriever-y, a bit shy and sweet. Maybe they are making out for the first time and….sweet nerdy rafe….switches up….not so shy. Ahhh it’s such a weakness when shy boys just become so forward, manly and give into their desires 💘🥹
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a/n: AHHHHH! im so happy that you requested a nerd!rafe!!!!! i hope you like it ⭐️
the library was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights blending into the soft rustle of pages and distant murmurs. rafe cameron sat across from you, his glasses sliding down his nose as he frowned at the notebook in front of him. he was chewing on the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit you’d grown fond of, though it made you wonder if he realized how obvious he was being.
“you’re gonna wear your skin raw if you keep doing that,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table.
he looked up, startled, like you’d caught him mid-crime. “oh. right. sorry.” he dropped his hand, fiddling with his pen instead. “i’m just—this doesn’t make sense. none of it makes sense. why is calculus even a thing?”
you smiled, leaning forward to peek at his notes. his handwriting was neat, but his equations were a jumbled mess, arrows pointing in all directions. “you’re overthinking it,” you said, your voice soft. “here, look. you just forgot to carry the one.”
rafe groaned, his head falling onto the table with a dramatic thud. “i’m hopeless.”
“you’re not hopeless.”
“i am. you should just give up on me now.” his words were muffled by the wood, but you could still hear the pout in his voice.
“rafe.”
he peeked up at you, his cheek smushed against the table. “what?”
“you’re adorable when you’re dramatic, but you’re not hopeless.”
his face flushed a deep red, and he sat up quickly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m not adorable,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“you are,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “but if you really want to prove me wrong, maybe stop staring at my lips and focus on your math.”
his eyes went wide, his ears turning pink. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t staring at your lips!”
“you were,” you said, smirking. “it’s okay, though. i don’t mind.”
he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “you don’t?”
“nope.”
the air between you shifted, the tension palpable now. rafe’s gaze flicked to your lips again, this time more deliberate, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.
“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you could just kiss me instead of acting like you’re solving a physics problem.”
his jaw dropped, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust. “i—i could?”
you laughed softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “come here, rafe.”
he stood slowly, his movements awkward and unsure, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. when he rounded the table and slid onto the bench beside you, his knee bumped yours, and he froze, looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.
“is this… okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“more than okay,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
he hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative kiss you’d ever experienced. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching, like he wasn’t sure where they belonged.
you deepened the kiss, your hand moving to his cheek, and he made a small, needy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, his hands settled on your hips, his grip uncertain at first but growing firmer as the kiss went on.
his lips were warm and slightly chapped, moving against yours in a rhythm that was both clumsy and endearing. but as the moments stretched, something shifted.
rafe pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and hunger. “is this… is this okay?” he asked again, his voice trembling.
“yes, rafe,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair.
that seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. when he kissed you again, it wasn’t tentative or shy—it was bold, almost desperate. his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your ribs, and his body pressed closer to yours, eliminating the small space that had existed between you.
you gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his confidence growing with each passing second. his glasses slipped down his nose again, but he didn’t seem to care, too focused on the way your lips moved against his.
“you’re so… perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and husky now, a far cry from the nervous stammering he’d started with.
your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “you’re not so shy anymore.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his glasses crooked and his lips kiss-swollen. “guess you bring it out of me,” he said, a crooked grin spreading across his face.
“oh, so now you’re cocky?”
“maybe a little.” his grin widened, and he leaned in again, his lips finding yours with renewed fervor.
the kiss grew hungrier, his hands exploring more boldly now. one slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, while the other found the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.
you let out a soft moan, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated against your lips. it was like a switch had flipped—gone was the shy, bumbling rafe, replaced by someone who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for permission, and when you parted them, he deepened the kiss with a confidence that made your head spin.
“God,” he muttered, his voice breathless. “you’re incredible.”
you were too dazed to respond, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you like his life depended on it.
time seemed to blur, the world outside the library fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your palm.
when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his glasses fogged up, and his sweater slightly askew. “sorry,” he said, though the satisfied grin on his face suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.
“for what?” you asked, still catching your breath.
“for not doing that sooner.”
you laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. “you’re such a dork.”
“your dork,” he murmured against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “mine.”
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog
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taojjang · 2 days ago
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riize when you're on your period ✮⋆˙
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pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff (tiny bit of crack idk), warnings: menstrual cycle, blood, medication
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♡⸝⸝ how he'd spoil you rotten during that time of the month
shotaro . . .
◦ oh how sweet he'd be :(
◦ taro is always the sweetest to you, treating you like a princess every waking moment of your life.
◦ but when you're on your period, he does everything in his power to lift your spirits and make you feel better.
◦ he wouldn't shy away from buying your feminine hygiene products! a real man, we love to see it!
◦ he'd be at your house every day, calling you beforehand to ask if you need him to get something for you.
◦ even if you say no, he'll never arrive empty-handed. he'll bring your favorite ice cream and maybe even a new teddy bear!
★ - "i'm sorry you're having a tough time, honey... is there anything i can do for you?"
eunseok . . .
◦ not a single day goes by where eunseok isn't spoiling you, waiting for your every request
◦ nothing changes during this time of the month; your caring boyfriend still stopping at nothing to make your life as easy as it can be.
◦ the only difference is that he'd never leave your side for even a second.
◦ he'd be sat beside you stroking your hair, occasionally checking to see if you're in pain or need anything from him.
◦ in the morning he'd ask you what you feel like eating so he can plan out today's meals, always ensuring his baby is happy and well-fed </3
◦ once he notices even a small wince from you, he wastes no time, rushing to grab a hot pack and leaving soothing kisses on your forehead.
★ - "i know it hurts, darling, i'm sorry. i'll take care of it, i promise."
sungchan . . .
◦ your cuddle buddy!
◦ whenever it's that time of the month, really all he wants to do is scoop you up in his arms and hug all of the pain away :( ... which conveniently works!
◦ when you're experiencing cramps, sungchan is always beside you, gently rubbing your tummy. he holds you delicately in his arms as if you'd shatter with too rough of a touch.
◦ his large, warm hands work wonders for your minor cramps and he knows that, so he never stays far from you in case you need him.
◦ but when your cramps are intense, sungchan always feels so sad and helpless :( he frantically researches remedies while you curl up in his lap, crying against his chest.
◦ he wipes your tears and kisses their trails, trying his best to soothe you in any way possible.
★ - "i'm so sorry, princess... the medicine should be kicking in any second now. should we try to take a nap?"
wonbin . . .
◦ a clueless cutie (・・ ) ?
◦ he'd be helplessly sitting beside you, too scared to touch you in fears of hurting you even more.
◦ nevertheless, he'd still be layering you with blankets and googling how to help his suffering gf (he's a loser and you love him!)
◦ in the end, he asks you to tell him whatever it is that you need, but all you want is cuddles and snacks :( so ofc he delivers!
◦ he'd order a bunch of your favorite snacks and find a good movie to watch
◦ would put on a comedy but laughing hurts your stomach so you watch a sappy romance instead, aaaand now he's stuck wiping your tears while you ugly cry over some cliche movie...!
★ - "you're such a crybaby. come here, let me kiss you."
seunghan . . .
◦ the way he treats you when you're on your period alone is already grounds for marriage
◦ seunghan would cater to your every need— buying your hygiene products, running errands, completing house chores, shit maybe even doing homework for you
◦ he just can't see his baby in pain :(
◦ the second you're leaning over in pain, he's running over to hug you probably with tears in his eyes
◦ every little flinch and he's asking if you need to go to the hospital
◦ he's the most caring boy in the world and he'd do anything for you <3
★ - "i'm sorry it hurts so much, angel... but i'm so proud of you, you know that?"
sohee . . .
◦ sohee would wear a stoic and confident act, but the poor boy is just a confused, scared, anxious little dude...
◦ he would be less clingy than the other members but would still travel lengths to make you feel better.
◦ sohee would work on lifting your spirits! he'd love to pick up food from your favorite restaurant and eat with you :3
◦ he'd do anything to make you smile— often ordering frozen yogurt at 2am and watching naruto until sunrise
◦ he knows how excruciating your menstrual cycle is, so he does everything in his power to make you happy even if its just for a split second.
◦ he's just your little ball of sunshine <3
★ - "i know it hurts, pretty girl... how about i order froyo? would that take your mind off of it..?"
anton . . .
◦ GOD SAVE THIS POOR BOY
◦ he is just about as emotionally drained as you are...
◦ every time you'd whine in pain, he'd hold you close to him and cry with you, constantly whispering apologies and comforting words.
◦ he goes out to buy your hygiene products but probably ends up calling you to tell him which one to buy... poor boy is super shy but he reminds himself it's for your girlfriend!
◦ he probably asks you questions about your period so he can become more prepared and knowledgeable, but you're not in the mood to talk so you end up cuddling instead (◡﹏◡)
◦ you lie cuddled up against his chest as he strokes your hair with one hand and rests the other on your lower back, soaking in each others' presence.
★ - "you're so admirable, my love. you're doing so well."
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daenysx · 10 hours ago
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Happy sleepover!!! I brought blankets and snacks so we can cuddle up and watch movies :,)
May I request poly!marauders at 4.40am?
happy sleepover! we're definitely cuddling up with blankets, my angel
4.40 AM | POLY!MARAUDERS
it's the sound of storm that wakes remus up.
he checks up on you briefly, your eyes are still closed. your neck must feel numb when you wake up though, you put your head in a strange angle on his shoulder. maybe he should try to adjust you to sleep better-
"holy shit-"
maybe he shouldn't.
when he turns his head he sees sirius's huge eyes, a few curse words whispered on his lovely mouth after the growling sound from the sky.
"it's okay." remus reaches for his boyfriend's arm to soothe him. "just a storm."
"i thought it was a dream." sirius says. "freaked me out- wait, how can they keep sleeping with all these sounds?"
it's amazing really, you and james don't even hear the sounds of the wind and trees, or the storm. remus tries not to move to let you keep sleeping. you're cute with your small sounds of breathing and your tired body all melted on him in the safety of sleep.
"they've been so tired." remus answers, fondly. "cover prongs' shoulder, it's getting cold here."
sirius does as he's told after kissing james's shoulder. he doesn't stir awake, the raining sounds behind work as a lullaby. his hand move in bed, though, sirius is quick to hold it with a gentle squeeze of his fingers.
"will you be able to fall asleep again?" remus asks him silently.
"i'll try. you?"
"yeah." remus answers. "she makes it impossible to stay awake anyway, look at how she sleeps."
"adorable."
the room is a bit chilly but the bed is warm. they both lie awake for a minute in the silence until another struck of the sky interrupts.
"go back to sleep, moons."
"you first."
"i will, promise." sirius whispers. "don't worry."
remus would very much like to rub his back until he falls asleep but it's not possible with you and james between them. he can only trust sirius to keep the promise.
"love you." remus whispers. sirius smiles lazily in the darkness. "wake me up if you can't fall asleep."
"love you."
dreamer girl sleepover ♡
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revelboo · 1 day ago
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Not a request but just to say thank you for all the work youve done for us!!! Your characterization’s are just top tier and I love how you build up the interactions and focus on the smaller things, really gives us a feel of everythingg
Please do take breaks though!! The rate which you write is crazy honestly😭😭😭
I can technically do these short form fics very quickly if I want to, but my day job is keeping me a bit busy right now.
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Better Open The Door Pt 8
IDW Thundercracker x Reader
• Using a spare blanket to rub your hair dry, your mind keeps dredging up the memory of his lips pressing softly against your spine. He’d behaved himself after, but he’d spent more time watching your furtive attempts to wash without flashing him than even trying to wash himself. It’s just his weird fascinations with humans and you know it, but still. The feel of his lips on you had been warm, felt real even if it can’t possibly be. Groaning, you drape the blanket over your head and just hide. From him and from your own weird thoughts. From the fact that even though you should resent him, it’s hard to.
• Watching you from his desk as he fiddles with his data pad, he leans to try and tug the blanket off of you. “What are you doing?” You latch onto it, resisting and while he knows he could easily uncover you, he lets you have whatever this is. Privacy? You’re back in your coverings, so maybe you’re just tired? “I can dim the lights if you need to rest.” And there you are, peeking out at him.
• You want to ask. About his possessive words before and that touch, because you’re not sure he’s playing the same game anymore and you hate not understanding the rules. He’d taken you just to play pretend, playing house with you to satisfy some weird desire from watching too many movies. Right? Whatever that was in the wash racks hadn’t felt like playing, though. “What am I to you?”
• Don’t you already know? Reaching out to tip your chin up and smiling when you catch his servo, but don’t push him away, he studies your expression. “We’re friends, right?” He asks even though that’s not quite right at all. Wants to protect the peace you give him, your smiles and laughs that had come so easily before he’d taken you, but now they’re brittle. Unhappy with him for keeping you here. For not giving you a choice.
• “Yeah, friends,” you mutter, blowing out a breath. And as annoyed as you are with him, he’s just so genuinely invested in you, in worrying over you and trying to make you happy, that it’s hard to stay furious with him for kidnapping you. No matter what he insists, he will get bored with you. You’re not that interesting and he has to realize that. This can’t last, but it’s not like you can hate him. He’s still Thundercracker. Still painfully optimistic and hopeful, just wanting to be with you. Maybe lonely, too.
• “Best friends,” he insists, choosing to ignore it when you roll your eyes at him. “I downloaded some movies on my data pad.” Reaching for you, his servos stop shy of touching you. Giving you a choice. He misses your real smiles, wants to go back to when you trusted him. Because this uneasy tension hurts. It’s almost more lonely than he’d been before he found you. Your head tips to study his expression and he fully expects you to refuse, so when you wrap yourself in your blanket and place yourself in his servos, it means everything. He can’t tell you the truth, yet. Can’t explain why he took you, what’s coming. Because when he admits that his war is likely going to take everything from you, you really will hate him.
Previous
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thisismeracing · 1 day ago
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Can you please do Mick dating Raikkönen!reader hsc, please?
sure <3 hope u like it, nonny!
Requests are now CLOSED.
MICK DATING A RAIKKÖNEN!READER | MS47
Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.
▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
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Raikkönen!reader just like her father is not in for silly jokes or small talk. She’s direct. If she doesn’t like you she’ll tell it to your face. The opposite is true as well - that’s how she told Mick she liked him after they hung out for a few months;
“I like you.” Short, simple, and direct. So direct that Mick wasn't sure if she meant she liked LIKED him or if she was being friendly, but since the latter was unlikely, he gathered up his courage and asked her on a date;
Though Michael and Mikki raced together, and Mick pretty much grew up inside the racing scene, the same was not reality for Yn. She did like racing, but when she was a kid Mikki and her mother chose to prioritize her privacy and her studies, that's how she wasn't friends with Mick. But once they met, it was a perfect match. Mick was shy at first, so that made him silent, and Yn just wasn't interested in talking. The silence was comfortable, though, and she saw herself walking near the bench he was sitting on and sharing a piece of her granola bar with him. Her dad had seen the friendship unfold, and he nicknamed them 'birds' because they would feed each other silently and then leave only to come up the next weekend with a sandwich, a granola bar, a candy, share in silence, and then leave again;
When Mick finally asked Yn on a date she told her dad and though he used to make fun he ended up feeling jealous - he even suggested that he could go too as if it was a friend meeting, not a date. Yn laughed at the situation, something she didn't do all the time, which made it even more special to those around her;
She sent Mikki a picture after the date. Their faces squished together on the screen of the phone. He could see Mick's arms around her shoulders, but her smile was so bright he couldn't help but feel happy for them;
He has dinner with the Schumachers the next month, minus Mick, of course. And they talk about the likelihood of their relationship becoming serious. They end up choosing to support them, Mikki being pretty sure that Yn wouldn't back down if he told her to, and the same with Mick;
Now, Mikki is a bit unsure of everything at first. He did see Mick grow up. He was friends with his family. But still, it was Yn! His little girl. That doubt went away a few months after they announced the seriousness of their relationship. Older Mick was a fun guy, nothing like the babbling kid nor the grumpy teenager he used to be. So the Schumacher and the older Raikkönen ended up realizing they had a lot in common;
After that, it's always "Where's Mick, Yn? Is Mick coming to the family vacation? Are the Schumis spending Christmas with us? Did you give him the book I handed you?" it's funny even;
Mick calls Yn by Raikki a short for her surname. Sometimes he calls her Rai or even Kiki, she hates the latter, though;
I feel like they would be super private. So much that it took almost a year or so for people to pierce the pieces together;
But being private didn't mean they weren't in love. That they were and the garage they attended quickly picked up from the way Mick would smile at her or how she would laugh around him;
Just black cat and golden retriever vibes, but Mick showed Yn her golden side too (the opposite too because Mick started to stand up for himself a tad more);
You know those couples where at least one has to be the person to tell the waiter they got the order wrong? Now imagine Yn is the one who does it while Mick is there like "I wouldn't mind eating raw meet :(" and Yn is like "I want another dish and I want dessert on the house," super serious while Mick is giving an apologetic look to the employee;
Yeah. hihi
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starclancy · 3 days ago
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Hello :)
I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a reader x Sanji fic where reader is homesick and wants their parents' cooking. Sanji tries to re-create the dish based on reader's description, but after many attempts, is struck with horror when he finally realizes what reader wants is low-key an abomination. Something like ketchup, milk, and parsley being reader's idea of tomato bisque or something else wild
This was so fun to write! Ty!
~ A Taste Of Home ~
PAIRING: Fem!Reader/Sanji
CONTENTS: 🩷 - fluff
WORDCOUNT: 700
Request status: Open (PLS)
The Merry’s kitchen was warm, the scent of sautéed onions and garlic filling the air as Sanji worked his magic. But tonight, his usual confidence was laced with determination and just a hint of worry. Across the room, you sat at the table, your chin resting on your hand, eyes glassy with the haze of homesickness.
“I can’t believe I miss it so much,” you murmured. “My mom used to make it whenever I felt sick or sad. It’s the ultimate comfort food.”
Sanji, always the gentleman, turned toward you with a reassuring smile. “Anything for you, love. Just tell me what it is, and I’ll whip it up perfectly.”
You hesitated, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. “It’s kind of...simple. Tomato bisque. But the way my mom made it is...different.”
His brow furrowed with intrigue. “Different, how?”
“Well...” You wrinkled your nose, trying to recall the details. “It’s kind of creamy, but not too heavy. There’s this tangy sweetness, you know? And a little kick of something fresh, like parsley. Oh! And she’d always stir in milk instead of cream to make it lighter.”
Sanji nodded, pulling out his notebook. “Creamy, tangy, sweet, fresh, and light. Got it. Anything else?”
You brightened. “She always swore by ketchup. Said it was the secret ingredient!”
The pen in Sanji’s hand froze mid-word. “...Ketchup?”
“Yeah!” you said with a nostalgic sigh. “It’s what makes it so...unique.”
A bead of sweat formed on Sanji’s temple, but he quickly composed himself. “Alright, no problem. I’ll have it ready before you can say ‘ketchup bisque.’”
Attempt #1: Sanji’s first creation was a masterpiece of refined French cuisine—silky tomato bisque with fresh cream, a hint of basil, and homemade croutons.
You took one sip, your face falling instantly. “This is...too good.”
“Too good?” Sanji echoed, his cigarette nearly falling from his lips.
“It’s just not...homey enough.”
Attempt #4: He swapped out the cream for milk, begrudgingly added a dab of ketchup, and toned down the herbs.
You tilted your head after a taste. “Closer, but still not right.”
Attempt #9: The pot on the stove bubbled ominously. Sanji had gone through three bottles of ketchup, two gallons of milk, and his last shred of sanity. He tasted the concoction, his face twisting into something between despair and betrayal.
“This...isn’t food,” he muttered to himself.
When you entered the kitchen, he froze, a guilty look on his face.
“Is it done?” you asked hopefully.
Sanji hesitated, then sighed. “Darling...I think I need to know something. Did your mother hate chefs?”
You frowned. “What? No! Why would you say that?”
He gestured at the pot, his voice cracking. “Because this—this monstrosity—isn’t bisque! It’s ketchup soup! It’s milk and parsley and pain!”
You blinked, then burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh, Sanji! I told you it was weird! That’s why it’s comfort food—it’s bad but in the best way!”
He stared at you, a mix of disbelief and exasperation on his face. “You could’ve led with that.”
The Final Bowl: Despite his culinary pride, Sanji made one last attempt, embracing the chaos of your childhood recipe. When he set the bowl in front of you, it looked just like you remembered—simple, strange, and oddly inviting.
You took a sip and lit up immediately. “This is perfect!”
Sanji watched you with a mix of horror and adoration. “I’ve never been so ashamed of something I’ve cooked...but if it makes you happy, I’ll take it.”
You grinned, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Sanji. You’ve got a knack for making people feel at home—even if home tastes like ketchup and milk.”
He groaned but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Anything for you, love. Just...please don’t tell Zoro about this.”
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moonstruckme · 2 days ago
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Omg 8k! I’m so happy for you love! May I request hot cocoa for poly wolfstar with the prompt “new years party” or “baking together”? (whichever one you choose!)
Thank you lovely!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 728 words
“Well, what are we supposed to give them? Crackers?” 
“I don’t see what would be so wrong with crackers,” says Remus, sounding already weary and increasingly vexed. 
“Only crackers, though?” Sirius is in a restless mood, his excitement for tonight’s party mounting and the volume of his voice along with it. “I just don’t see how it can be possible that there aren’t any grapes left anywhere in town. Was there a grape plague I didn’t know about?” 
“They were sold out. I don’t know what to tell you. Crackers will be just as good.” 
“That’s a completely different food group, darling!” 
“Sirius,” you call, hoping to spare Remus from further irritation (and thus spare Sirius from the consequences), “can you come tell me if this looks alright?” 
You’ve strung lights all across the ceiling of the sitting room, strands of blue and white overlapping and casting the whole space in their glow. Sirius’ eyes seem to glimmer as he comes in, admiring your handiwork. He’s in his outfit for the party already, though you’re both waiting until later to do your makeup together. You’ve got plenty of time; it’s only just getting dark outside, and no one is expected to arrive until at least eight. 
“This looks amazing, sweetheart,” he says, audibly relaxing. “It’s perfect; you’ve done beautifully.” 
“You don’t think it’s too dim in here?” you joke. 
Sirius grins as he walks over. You’re a couple of feet taller than him on your step stool, but he doesn’t seem to mind, touching his lips to your navel while his hands hold the backs of your thighs. You predict him and set your hands on his shoulders, sucking in a breath when he pulls you away from the step, lowering you down. 
“How’d you manage it?” he asks, looking back up at the lights while his hand runs absently up and down the dip of your spine. A few of the white strands wink in and out, twinkling above you like stars. “I can’t even see any of the hooks.” 
“They’re in there,” you tell him. It had taken you a while to figure out how to hide them well, but the abundance of lights ended up covering for you in the end. You take a piece of Sirius’ hair between your fingers, admiring the blue sheen on it. “Baby?” 
“Hm?” 
You press a kiss to his lips, gentle and loving. “Keep in mind that you’re the one who forgot we’d need food until the last minute,” you tell him sweetly. 
Sirius pouts. “Why do I have to remember everything?” 
“Because you’re the only one of us who wanted to have a party.”
“You said,” Remus recounts as he comes in, still sounding vexed but fond around the eyes, “and I quote, I’ll take care of everything.” 
“Doesn’t bloody sound like me,” Sirius mutters. His hand is still moving affectionately over your back, though. 
“Dove.” Remus graces you with a smile, ignoring your sulky boyfriend. “The lights look lovely.” 
“Thank you,” you say, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder before pulling yourself from his arms. You take Remus’ hands and look up at him with your sweetest, most imploring eyes. “Can I ask you for a favor, please?” 
Remus narrows his eyes at you like he knows what you’re about, but his lips twitch as he holds your fingers. “Hm?” 
“You know that trifle you make for Easter?” You wait for him to nod. “If I went to the store and got the stuff, do you think you might be able to make it again tonight?” 
You look to Sirius. “That’d be good, right? It might go nicely with the champagne.” 
Sirius grins at you. “Brilliant girl. I’m remembering now why we keep you around.” 
You turn back towards Remus. You can feel the power of Sirius’ pleading look adding to yours from behind you. After a long moment, your boyfriend capitulates with a sigh and a kiss to your head. 
“Alright. I’ll make you a list.” 
“Thank you, my love,” Sirius says, saccharine sweet. 
“This party is more trouble than it’s worth.” Remus turns, too slowly to conceal his smile. “If anyone tries to make me sing karaoke, I’ll shut the whole thing down before midnight.” 
Sirius’ expression looks crushed. “But—” 
“Shh.” You pat his shoulder, watching Remus go. “James’ll harass him once he gets here. Pick your battles.” 
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nadvs · 1 day ago
Text
   ⊹ ❀ ︵ ∘  destined ⟢
pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader
summary after you find out you’re pregnant, you tell zach and prepare to share the news together.
this is a continuation blurb of this two-shot! requested by anon.
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You impatiently check the time on your phone again. It’s been fourteen minutes since you sat down in the private room at the doctor’s office.
Your eyes travel over the lockscreen photo from your wedding half a year ago. In the captured moment, Zach is holding Ella. Her left arm is around her father’s shoulders and her right is around yours.
Her poofy dress is sparkling under the warm banquet hall lights, her smile just as big as yours and Zach’s.
You’d done a lot of happy crying that day, but a moment after the photo was taken, you’d never had tears of joy quite like this.
Ella had run off after the shutter of the photographer’s camera and Zach pulled you in by the waist, his lips soft against your cheek, murmuring just loud enough to be heard over the music and people dancing around you, “You know what she asked me this morning?”
“What?”
“Since I get to call you my wife, if she can call you her mommy.”
You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, tearing up as he held you tighter. She had just turned seven years old and still didn’t talk about her biological mother all that much. She also hadn’t called you anything other than your name.
Zach had told you he’d be comfortable with it if Ella grew to want to call you her mom. You’d told him you’d be, too, but that you hoped she didn’t think you were ever trying to replace anyone.
“Really?” you said, your hand over your heart. “What’d you say?”
“I said she can,” he replied. You pulled back to meet his eyes, beaming up at him, almost in disbelief that three years ago, you’d knocked on his door for the first time. You could have never known the turn your life would take.
“You love her like she’s yours,” he said, his eyes glossy, “and she loves you the same way. I’m so happy she has you.”
You squeezed his hand. He’d already reassured you many times that you weren’t taking the place of Ella’s mother or being a substitution for what she lost. Instead, you’re an addition to their lives.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said. The tears he was trying to hold back fell from his eyes and he chuckled defeatedly. “Who’s cried more today, do you think?”
“I’d say it’s even,” you said with a laugh.
The door opening pulls you out of the memory. You meet the doctor’s eyes, your heart thrumming.
You and Zach had been trying for a baby for four months now. You didn’t even have to ask Ella what she thought about gaining a sibling. She’d been asking for one for a long time now.
After a string of failed attempts, you prefer not to tell Zach every time you take a test. You can see the disappointment in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it behind a gentle, “The baby just wants to make us wait.”
A couple of nights ago, when the home test you secretly took showed two lines, you booked a blood test to be sure. The doctor starts her sentence with Congratulations and you exhale a shaky breath of relief.
────୨ৎ────
Later that day, you’re folding laundry in the living room while Ella’s at school. Zach gets home from an early practice and beams when he sees you, dropping his bag on the floor.
“Hi, baby,” he says. “How are you?”
“Good. How was training?”
“I’m getting old,” he chuckles, stretching his arms over his head. You laugh.
Zach had already decided that after eight years, this is his last season professionally playing. He was offered a position on the coaching team after he told his managers he’d be resigning. He’s ready to slow down, to work a job that doesn’t have such a high risk of injury, to have more time for his family.
He sits next to you, takes the t-shirt out of your hands, folds it and then puts it on the stack on the table so that you’re free to hug him. You giggle as he leans forward and pushes you back against the couch. He’s hovering over you, his cheek pressed on yours as he hugs you, smelling like his body wash.
Zach lives for these simple moments. Getting home to you, holding you, grounding himself and reminding himself that this is what life is about.
“Hey, how’s your day look six Mondays from now?” you ask.
“That’s specific,” he laughs. “I’ll have to check. Why?”
“I’d prefer it if you came to the ultrasound with me.”
He pulls back, searching your face in awe.
“What?” he whispers. “Are you… What?”
“I am,” you laugh, tears building in your eyes, stroking his soft hair.
“When did you…?”
“This morning,” you say. “I didn’t want to tell you in case it came back negative.”
“I’m…” Zach doesn’t have words. He leans forward, gently pressing his lips against yours, shuffling quickly so he doesn’t put any weight on you.
“It’s okay,” you laugh. “You won’t break us.”
“Us,” he repeats happily, his voice cracking. He looks down at your stomach, gently putting his hand on you. “It’s okay that you made us wait,” he whispers to the baby. “I already know you were worth it. Are you being gentle with your mom?”
He looks up at you, a flash of concern washing over his awestruck face.
“I’m a little more tired than usual,” you say. “But nothing crazy yet.”
“I can’t believe it,” Zach sighs. He sniffles, his heart racing with happiness as his eyes fill with tears. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Me, neither. We can give her the book soon.”
Zach smiles. He’d bought a children’s book a few months back about becoming a big sister for when it was time to tell Ella a baby was on the way.
Having known you for nearly four years now, he was already well aware of how pure your heart is. But the fact that your first thought is to tell Ella is yet another reminder of how you’ve always seen yourself as not only sharing your life with him, but with her, too.
“Gonna be hard not to do it right away,” he says.
“Do you have any idea how hard these last three hours have been?” you laugh. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. But we’ll share the news with her after the first trimester. To be safe.”
“Of course,” he agrees, cupping your face and pulling you in for another tender kiss.
────୨ৎ────
By the three month mark, your appetite has grown and fatigue has hit you hard. When the day comes to tell Ella, you’re bursting with excitement to tell her the news.
After dinner, you sit on the couch, already used to Zach quietly telling you to sit down and not do any housework.
Ella’s doing homework at the coffee table as you help. You gaze at her as she concentrates on her writing and remember the four-year-old she was when you first walked into this house.
She’s nearly eight now and still has so many of the qualities you’d first noticed about her. She’s energetic and loves conversation and never hesitates to show affection.
Zach comes in from cleaning up after dinner and raises his eyebrows at you, discreetly holding the book. You nod to confirm you’re ready, nervous.
He sits next to you, taking one last moment to look at you and at his daughter, accepting that this is the last moment the three of you will have like this. His family is growing now, and it feels like his heart is, too.
“Is it two R’s? Or one?” Ella mumbles, the pencil in her hand. She looks up when you don’t answer, too busy trying not to cry as you watch her. “Are you okay, mommy?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m okay. Can you sit with us for a moment?”
Ella nods, running towards you. Zach stops her in his arms before she lands too close to you. You laugh, having already told him privately that she’s never rough enough to hurt the baby, but he can’t be too careful.
“I have a book for you,” Zach says, kissing Ella on the temple as she sits between you. “Can you tell me what you think?”
He hands her the purple hardcover.
“What’s it called?” you ask.
“Big Sisters Are The Best,” she reads. She curiously opens the page, gazing over the illustrations of a little girl with a baby.
“Thank you,” she says politely. “I’ll tell my friend Kaley about this book. Maybe she can borrow it. She’s a big sister.”
You chuckle, meeting Zach’s eyes. He rubs Ella’s back and tells her, “You’re going to be a big sister, too, honey.”
Ella’s gaze darts up to him, then to you, then back again.
“Really?” she says. Zach’s face brightens with endearment, eyes growing shiny with tears.
“Really?” she repeats, looking at you.
“Really,” you say, putting a hand over your stomach. “That’s why I keep going back for seconds at dinner lately. There’s a baby in here making me extra hungry.”
Ella stands up, unable to contain her happiness, jumping up and down in her spot a few times before wrapping you into a hug. You laugh as she wiggles in your arms.
Zach wipes his eyes, still unsure of what he did to deserve this sort of happiness. It’s like he’s in another world, experiencing a type of joy reserved specifically for him.
“This is the best day ever,” she says. “And you’re the best mommy ever and daddy’s the best daddy ever.”
“He is,” you agree, looking at him with pure love.
────୨ৎ────
“You’re such a girl dad,” you say amusedly when you go into Ella’s bedroom.
Zach’s sitting on the floor as Ella adds what looks like the twentieth clip in his hair, while he holds Olivia, who’s happily ripping up a piece of paper.
He smiles at you gratefully. Your one-year-old is exactly how Ella was at that age. Curious, smiley, and eager to make messes wherever she can. He knows you’re technically a blended family, but it has never felt like that.
“Ella, can you do mine next?” you ask.
“After Olivia,” she says happily. “I told her she’s next and I have to keep my promise.”
“Of course,” you say. “She’s lucky to have such a nice big sister.”
“Ebba,” Olivia babbles.
“Ella,” Ella corrects. You laugh. It feels like yesterday, you’d just met her and Zach, and he was correcting her on how she’d called him the bestest. Now, she’s growing before your eyes, already so mature and well-mannered.
“But Ebba’s okay,” Ella says with a smile. She leans to give her little sister a kiss on the forehead, earning a giggle from her, clapping for more.
You sit on the floor next to Zach, squeezing his knee lovingly as your daughters laugh together. He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it.
“And to think,” you joke, “we wouldn’t be here if I bombed my interview.”
Zach laughs, shaking his head as he kisses your hand again.
“No,” he says. “This is how life was meant to be. You would have found us, no matter what. I know it.”
You grin at him, nodding in agreement.
Sitting here with his wife and daughters is the definition of destiny. Zach knows deep in his soul that he was always fated to be right here, with his heart split between three beautiful girls.
(the end)
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dissapointu · 1 day ago
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Hey can I ask for how arcane characters would celebrate their s/o's birthday. My birthday is coming tomorrow (same day when Act 3 is released and I'm not ready 😭)
Happy (early) birthday!, Mine is coming up on Sunday! I hope you like this annon- my requests are filled to the brim so sorry if this took a bit long for me to get to-
Jinx
Jinx goes all out with chaotic creativity. She’d make you a wild, explosive “birthday surprise” (don’t worry, the explosions are just colorful fireworks this time). The celebration would be an adventure—she’d set up a scavenger hunt across Zaun, leading to a hideout decorated with glowing lights, mismatched balloons, and her unique artwork. The night would end with a heartfelt (but chaotic) gift she made herself, reflecting how much you mean to her.
Vi
Vi keeps it simple but meaningful. She’d spend the entire day with you, taking you to your favorite spots in Zaun (or Piltover if you’re feeling adventurous). Expect her to show up with a small, thoughtful gift—maybe a charm or bracelet symbolizing her commitment to you. She’d throw in a surprise, like a home-cooked meal or sparring lessons where you always “win.”
Sevika
Sevika would take you to one of the classier underground bars in Zaun, ensuring the atmosphere was just right. She’d have the bartender make your favorite drink and possibly even toast to you in front of everyone. Her gift would be something practical but meaningful, like a custom-made piece of armor or a knife engraved with your name. She wouldn’t say much, but her actions would scream, You’re everything to me.
Silco
Silco would celebrate your birthday with understated elegance. He’d arrange a private dinner in his office, with candles casting a soft glow over the room. His gift would likely be something rare and meaningful—perhaps an artifact with a story or a promise of future security. He’d also take time to express his feelings, which is rare for him, making the moment even more special.
Vander
Vander would keep it warm and heartfelt. He’d organize a gathering at The Last Drop with your closest friends, ensuring there’s good food, drinks, and laughter all around. He’d give you a gift that resonates deeply, like a hand-carved trinket or something symbolic of the family you’ve built together. He’d make sure the day felt safe and full of love.
Ekko
Ekko would use his inventive mind to create a birthday you’d never forget. He’d set up the Firelights’ hideout with glowing murals and lanterns, creating a magical atmosphere. His gift would be something handmade, like a small invention or a piece of art. The night would be filled with music, laughter, and his infectious energy, all focused on celebrating you.
Jayce
Jayce would celebrate with grandeur. He’d book a beautiful venue or take you to a fancy restaurant in Piltover. He’d make sure everything was perfect, from your favorite dishes to a heartfelt toast about how amazing you are. His gift would likely be something extravagant, like a custom piece of jewelry or a groundbreaking invention dedicated to you.
Viktor
Viktor would celebrate your birthday with quiet, thoughtful gestures. He’d invite you to his lab, where he’d surprise you with a small, meaningful invention tailored to your interests. He’d also take the time to express his appreciation for you, likely in the form of a handwritten letter. The day would end with the two of you sharing a quiet moment, away from the world.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would plan an elegant birthday celebration. She’d take you to a picturesque part of Piltover, where you’d enjoy a private picnic or a fine dining experience. Her gift would be something sentimental, like a beautifully framed photo of the two of you or a token from one of your shared adventures.
Mel Medarda
Mel would make your birthday a masterpiece. She’d commission a stunning piece of art in your honor and host a luxurious gathering with Piltovan elite. Her gift would be thoughtful and extravagant, like a handcrafted piece of jewelry or a beautiful outfit tailored just for you. She’d spend the entire evening making sure you felt like royalty.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would celebrate your birthday with strength and style. She’d organize a feast worthy of a warrior, complete with toasts and a bold declaration of her affection for you. Her gift would be something practical and meaningful—perhaps a weapon or armor, designed with your needs in mind. She’d make sure you knew your worth in her eyes.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would celebrate with a warm and personal touch. She’d bake you a delicious cake and organize a cozy get-together with close friends and family. Her gift would be something heartfelt, like a scrapbook of your memories together or a thoughtful keepsake. She’d make the day feel safe, special, and full of love.
Lest
Lest would celebrate with a mix of humor and sincerity. She’d tease you about getting older but then surprise you with a heartfelt gift, like a handcrafted piece of jewelry or an item she noticed you’d been wanting. The celebration would be low-key, filled with laughter and quiet moments of affection, showing how much she cherishes you.
I hope this adds to your excitement for your birthday! Have an amazing day filled with love, joy, and perhaps some Arcane watching!
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