#it was so great I love these guys so much

[yoyomomiko]

Hiiii, I love your writing sm! <33

Could you write monster trio hcs with an s/o who is completely oblivious to their flirting?

Obvs u don't have to write this if u don't wanna! :]

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: luffy doesn't really flirt (I don't know how luffy would be flirting I'm sorry), not proofread , probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): okay so like... I kind of got carried away and didn't really stay with the request and I just realized it now that i'm done writing :(( it just doesn't feel right, I mean, they're not really flirting... it's more like, indirect flirting, you know?? i'm veryyy sorry!!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy doesn't even understand the concept of flirting, he simply doesn't know how to flirt. He just does things that feel right, like holding your hand all the time or hugging you randomly.

He CONSTANTLY invades your personal space, leaning in way too close when he talks, but you just assume he's always like that (which, in a way, is true).

Luffy will offer you food, which is a huge deal, but you just think he's being generous and thank him without reading into it.

He calls you "his favourite person" or "his girl", but you just assume it's meant to be platonically.

He'll grab your hand and swing it while walking, and when you ask why he simply shrugs. "Dunno, feels right!"

If another guy talks to you, Luffy pouts and clings to you, but you just think he's being his usual affectionate self.

If you ever find yourself in danger, Luffy's protective instincts go overdrive. However, he doesn't exactly know how to express it in a way that makes sense.

He gives you his hat when it's sunny, grinning at you joyfully, like it's a big deal. And then you're just like "Aw, thanks!" And you don't understand why he looks so disappointed (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Luffy likes sitting next to you during meals, pressing his leg against yours. But you just pull away since you think he just needs more room.

He LITERALLY tells you "I like you a lot!" And you're just like "I like you too!" And ruffle his hair.

He tells you that he'll protect you forever, with the most serious expression ever, and you'll just assume he's being a good captain.

Whenever you hug him, he picks you up and spins you around, grinning like an idiot.

He trusts you with his hat. Like, he trusts you. He lets you wear it all the time, because he knows you'll take care of it. Heck, he's the one placing it on your head! You don't really think much of it, though.

Eventually, Luffy gets frustrated and just blurts out "I wanna be your boyfriend!" And waits for you to finally get it.

———☆

Luffy had been looking for you all morning, walking around the ship, asking everyone where you were. When he finally spotted you on the deck, sitting with Usopp, he rushed over excitedly. He felt his chest tighten whenever he saw you talking with anybody else, but he always brushed it off.

"[Y/N]! I need you!" Luffy grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Usopp's conversation.

"What's wrong?" You asked, chuckling a bit at his sudden enthusiasm.

"I just wanted to talk to you! You always hang out with everyone else, but you never hang out with me!" Luffy pouted, pulling you along toward the bow of the ship. He threw himself down on the ground dramatically, patting the spot next to him. "Come, sit with me!"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit amused as you leaned over him. "Are you really this clingy all the time?" You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah!" Luffy exclaimed with a wide grin, nudging you to sit next to him. As soon as you sat down, he immediately leaned against you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I just like being close to you. You're my favorite person!"

You smiled and ruffled his hair, thinking he was being his usual goofy self. "You're my favourite person too." You replied, smile widening a bit. "You're a great captain."

He grinned, but then he got serious, standing up straight, staring at you. "No, no, I mean... I like you! I really like you!" He repeated, a little louder this time, a faint pink decorating his cheeks.

You blinked at him, not quite processing it. "Aw, that's sweet! I really like you too."

Luffy just whined, burying his face in his hands as he quietly mumbled something under his breath. You just laughed, patting him on the back as he continued whining. "I think you need a nap, Luffy!"

— ZORO

Zoro isn't the best with words, so his flirting is more about physical gestures, like carrying your things and such.

He always makes sure to sit next to you, no matter where you are, but you just assume it's a coincidence.

He trains shirtless around you more than necessary, subtly flexing, but you never seem to notice.

Speaking of training, he helps you train, standing behind you to correct your form, giving you advice.

I already said he's not the best with words, but he has a tendency to compliment you, although not directly. He might praise your abilities in a fight. You don't really think twice about it, but to Zoro, it's his own form of adoration for you.

He always glares at Sanji when he's flirting with you, but you just think they're bickering as usual.

If another man shows interest in you, Zoro's natural reaction is to stare them down with a glare. You'll never notice his intense gaze, because you think that he's just annoyed by something unrelated.

If you ask for help reaching something, he doesn't just simply hand it to you. He lifts you up effortlessly, just as an excuse to feel you in his arms.

If you're tired, he'll literally carry you to the girl's room. You just think he's being a good friend, as if he does it for everyone else (he doesn't).

He loves it when you nap near him during his training, he just likes your presence. You always think it's just because he's comfortable around you.

If you get hurt, he's the first to scold you. "Be more careful." He's the one patching you up, not letting Chopper get near you (unless it's a serious injury).

Zoro's way of showing affection is through silent protection. You'll never notice that he's doing it for you specifically, and he won't say anything to make it obvious.

He also kind of teases you playfully, as a form of affection. He'll make fun of you when you do something silly, but he's never too mean about it.

He gets SUPER protective in battle, always watching your back. He can't bring himself to look at you badly wounded.

Literally EVERYONE notices how protective he is of you, but somehow you never do. Even strangers think so.

Like I've said before, he finds excuses to touch you. For example, gently guiding you through crowds by the small of your back.

He also somehow always catches you when you trip. Right before you hit the ground, he's there, arms wrapped around you and helping you stand back on your feet.

Eventually, he just grabs your face one day and says something like "Damn it, I like you. Get it now?"

———☆

You were standing near the railing, gazing out at the ocean, watching the sunset, completely lost in your thoughts. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps approaching behind you.

"You've been standing there forever. You lost or something?" Zoro's voice came from beside you, his usual gruff voice a little softer.

You glanced at him as a smile tugged at your lips. "Nah, just thinking. The ocean looks really pretty right now."

Zoro leaned against the railing next to you, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't exactly great at this whole flirting thing, but if Sanji could do it, how hard could it be? He decided to go for something subtle. Something cool.

"Yeah, well..." He muttered, his gaze lingering on you a second too long. "It's not the only thing that looks pretty around here."

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. "Oh yeah! The ship looks great in this lighting too." You smiled as you took a look around, completely missing the way Zoro's expression dropped.

He sighed, shaking his head slightly before he tried again. "That's... Not what I meant."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Oh, you meant the sunset, huh? Yeah. It's really nice."

Zoro stared at you for a long moment, his lips parting slightly, trying to process how this was going so terribly wrong. He tried again, this time leaning just a little closer, lowering his voice. "I was talking about you, idiot."

You blinked at him, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Me?"

Zoro nodded, waiting, praying for the realization to hit you already.

"Ohhh." You finally broke the silence, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

"That's really sweet, Zoro! You think I look nice too?" You chuckled, as if he had just complimented your outfit instead of attempting to flirt with you.

Zoro groaned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, sure, that's what I meant..." He mumbled, admitting defeat.

You gave him a friendly pat on the back. "You're getting a lot nicer, you know that? I think hanging around me is softening you up."

He let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze back to the sea. "Or maybe I'm just like that with you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

— SANJI

Sanji is the king of exaggerated compliments. Every time he looks at you, it's as if he's seeing the most beautiful person in the world. "My darling, the moon is jealous of your beauty tonight." is a pretty common line from him, but you just think it's his usual behavior.

He constantly tries to impress you with his cooking. He'll make your favourite dish and serve it with grace, and when you compliment the food, he blushes as if you're complimenting him. You thank him every time, but in your mind, it's just good manners.

He will find any excuse to help you with something, even if it's small, like picking up something you dropped. And the moment you thank him for it he's like "Anything for you my lovely lady!" You just smile and move on because he does that with pretty much every woman.

Sanji's always the first one to offer you his jacket when it gets cold. Sometimes, when he gets brave, he wraps it around your shoulders and makes sure to linger closer to you for just a little longer.

He has a soft spot for you when you're sad, and he'll stop whatever he's doing to comfort you. He'll hold your hand, stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings. You just assume it's because he's a gentleman, not because he's crushing on you hard.

Sanji can be pretty possessive, especially when another guy is even slightly flirting with you. You'll catch him glaring, and if anyone so much as dares to brush against your arm, he'll throw a fit. That person might get a foot to the face, but who knows!!

Whenever you compliment his cooking or his fighting skills, he gets way more flustered than with anyone else. His eyes will turn into hearts, and he'll literally swoon.

Sanji often stares at you with wide starry eyes but when you catch him, he'll just say something like "Oh, nothing! Just admiring my beautiful angel." You think he's being his usual self or just lost in thought.

He makes a huge deal out of holding the door for you, pulling your chair at dinner and guiding you with his arm. But you think it's just because he's being polite. He tries to take your hand as he walks you around, but you just think he's offering help, never suspecting that he's being a little more than just polite.

After all his dramatic declarations of love, he finally cracks. One evening, while you're standing by the railing, he walks up to you and throws himself down at your feet. "I cannot live without you! You're my everything, and I need you to understand that!"

———☆

Sanji had been watching you all day. When you first arrived and joined the crew, he had already been swooning, but now, after spending this much time with you, he was completely smitten. He had made your favourite dessert just for you, and now he was patiently waiting for you to notice.

You peacefully sat on the deck, reading a book, when Sanji rushed over, holding a plate of freshly made pastries. "Ah, my darling! I've made these just for you!" He smiled, leaning down with a hand on his chest in a dramatic bow. "Only the finest for my beautiful lady."

You looked up from your book, a little surprised. "Oh, Sanji! Thank you so much! You really didn't have to, but I appreciate it!"

Sanji's heart skipped a bit as you reached for one of the pastries, giving him a sweet smile. "Anything for you, my love." He muttered, but his voice came out softer, almost like a whisper. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world. He pressed a hand to his heart, praying you couldn't hear how loud it was beating.

You giggled, thinking nothing of it as you took a bite from the pastry. "This is so good! I don't think I've said this enough, but you're really talented."

He blinked, and his face turned pink, clearly flustered by the compliment. "I only make the best for you, [Y/N]." He replied, his voice shaking just slightly. He leaned in a little closer, almost as if hoping you'd get the hint. "You deserve nothing less."

You looked up, gazing at him, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Sanji. I appreciate it..."

He sighed dramatically and placed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, my sweet [Y/N], how I adore you..." His voice trailed off as he stared into the distance.

"You okay?" You tilted your head, genuinely concerned. But once again, completely oblivious to how he was really feeling.

He slumped forward onto the table, groaning in agony. "I don't think I can take it anymore..." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. "Why can't you see how I feel?!"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[thehighladywrites]

— “Bless me.”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd azriel x bimbo reader

☀︎ — summary: this is a little flashforward of what life looks like for you and azriel at different milestones!

☀︎ — warnings: sexual themes, fluff, pregnancy, smut

☀︎ — amara’s note: guys this is it💔 it’s been so fucking fun snd i’ve loved writing for them!!

series masterlist

The proposal

After four grueling years of college, you were about to walk the stage, hand in hand with Azriel. Both of you were dressed in matching black gowns and caps. You’d begged for a pink gown, but had to settle for pink heels, nails, and gorgeous Alaïa dress.

Azriel looked sinful in the suit you picked out while you were out shopping together. It was honestly dangerous to shop for him, that changing room was practically begging you to drag Azriel in it.

He also thought about ditching his glasses and that made you kinda sad because you loved seeing him in his glasses, he was so painfully cute in them.

“Not the glasses, baby. Please—you gotta leave ‘em on.” Honestly, you would beg if you had to. But Azriel didn’t let you beg he just nodded and kept them on.

He didn’t have time to think too much of it.

Because he was busy sweating bullets, not just from the ceremony’s heat but because of the diamond ring hidden in his pocket. The ring he had been saving 2 years for. It was for sure the most expensive thing he had ever purchased but the exclusive internship had paid well and you were going to get a good fucking ring.

As you waited to walk across the stage, Professor Lawder, looking fabulous in her academically decorated scholar gown, approached you and Azriel with a warm smile. “So, what are your plans after college?”

Azriel shyly smiled before letting her know what he’d been up to. “I’ve been offered a position at a company, Professor.”

Professor Lawder’s eyes widened with admiration. “That’s fantastic, Azriel! I always knew you’d achieve great things.”

You’re heart was overflowing with pride and joy for him as you chimed in with your signature bubbly enthusiasm, “He’s being super modest! He’s going to Synergy Tech! Dunno what they do there, but Azriel loves it there and they’re lucky to have him.”

Professor Lawder’s jaw dropped in amazement, clearly impressed. Synergy Tech was one of the worlds most leading companies in technological innovation and getting offered a job was no easy task. Azriel’s cheeks flushed a cute shade of red as he shifted nervously, his hand discreetly brushing against the hidden ring box. You gave him a reassuring squeeze, your happiness bubbling over.

“That’s very, very impressive and I wish you nothing but luck! And what about you, Ms. L/N?” Professor Lawder asked with a gentle smile.

You shrugged and gave a dazzling, slightly clueless grin. “Oh, um, well, I haven’t really thought that far ahead. College was, like, super tough, and I’m just ready to, you know, have fun and see what happens! Maybe travel with my man a bit, find some cute hobby or, like, just live in the moment. Who knows?”

Professor Lawder’s smile grew more amused and approving. “Well, it sounds like you’re ready to enjoy whatever comes your way.” Professer Lawder hugged you both before wishing you good luck one last time before you walked the stage. It was a wonderful feeling and you were so glad it was finally over. You cheered loud as fuck when Azriel was awarded with several honors diplomas and got a medal for his stellar grades.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you come with me for a moment?” Azriel asked after taking pictures with your friends and family.

“Okay! Where are we going, baby?” asked with a bright smile, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you held your diploma in one hand.

Azriel’s smile grew more tender as he led you away from the crowd and into the quiet math building, the very first place you two met. The empty hallway seemed much smaller and more insignificant than it used to be.

He gently took your hand in his, guiding you to the old seats where you first bonded. As you both settled into the familiar space, Azriel took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.

Okay, this was it. He was totally going to do it.

Azriel looked at you with an intense, tender gaze. “I’m insanely in love with you,” he said, his voice quivering with emotion.

You put a hand on his chest, your sparkly eyes lighting up with joy. “Awww, I love you too,” you smiled, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Azriel took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes twinkling with a mix of nerves and adoration.

“You’ve completely changed my life,” he began, his voice wavering with emotion. “From the moment we met, I knew you were someone extraordinary. You’ve brought so much joy, love and laughter into my world, more than I ever thought possible for someone like me.”

He smiled at you, his cheeks flushed with a mix of boyish excitement and nervousness. “I want to make you as happy, forever. You deserve every bit of happiness, love and devotion in the world, and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

Azriel took a deep breath, his eyes full of tender love as he knelt down on one knee as best as he could while being stuck in the back of the classroom. With a trembling hand, he opened a black velvet box to reveal a stunning ring that sparkled with every color of his affection for you.

“Please, bless me by becoming my wife,” he asked softly, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and making you as happy as you’ve made me. I want to be your husband and the father of our kids, your rock, your trusted. Please, allow me be yours. Marry me, my love.”

You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as your eyes filled with tears. In no time you started sobbing. You didn’t glance at the ring, just Azriel’s eyes that were so filled with love.

“Yes! Oh my god, yes! I’ll marry you!” you squealed, your voice high-pitched with excitement. Tears streamed down your face as you flung yourself into Azriel’s arms, knocking him back. He held firm, never letting you go.

You buried your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. “Az,” you hiccupped between breaths, “I love you so much. Like, I can’t even—oh my god!”

Azriel’s chest vibrated with a quiet laugh, his dimples deepening as he pressed his cheek against your hair. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, his voice steady despite the overwhelming emotion tightening his throat. “I love you too.”

You sniffled, pulling back just enough to look up at him, your mascara smudged and your eyes sparkling. “We’re gonna be, like, the cutest married couple. We’ll have an amazing life and there’s so much we’ll do! We’re so perfect and hot and we can literally do whatever because we’re married.”

His lips curved into that rare, quiet smile reserved only for you. “Whatever you want,” he assured softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I’m all in.”

You beamed through your tears, your voice bright despite the emotion clinging to it. “Duh, you kinda have to be now. I’m gonna be your wife. And I’m just gonna let you know now—I’m very high maintenance.”

Azriel’s heart flipped at the way you so confidently called yourself his wife already, and then he laughed, low and warm, because of course you were high maintenance. “So, no big changes there, huh?”

“Nope!” you said proudly, popping the p. “But I know you’ll take such good care of me and it means the world to me.” Your hand lifted, thumb gently brushing across his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. “God, Azzie, I couldn’t love someone more than I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. ”You’re totally the love of my life.”

Azriel’s eyes softened as he gently took your hand. Slowly, he lifted the stunning light pink diamond ring from its velvet box and, with steady hands, slid it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, sparkling as though it had been made just for you.

You leaned in, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, your eyes drifted down to the ring resting perfectly on your finger. It sparkled brilliantly—a huge pink diamond that practically glowed in the light. Your eyes widened in awe, lips parting in delight.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, voice trembling with excitement. “It’s so perfect. I’m gonna cry, Azzie.” You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Are ya sure you want me as your wife? Like, forever?” you added softly, the last part coming out almost shy.

Azriel’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. The mere thought of not wanting you made his chest ache. He would’ve married you right after your first tutoring session if you’d let him.

“Of course I do. Do you have any doubts, my love?” the thought made his stomach hurt. “Do you not want to do it?”

You shook your head vehemently. “No! I mean, yes, I wanna do it. But—what if you get bored of me?” You bit your lip nervously. “I mean, I can’t exactly have intellectual conversations with you or whatever. Ya know I’m not that smart, right?”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. This was all coming from the girl who had trouble pronouncing colonel.

“You’re very smart, first of all. And I’m not marrying you for debates, sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m marrying you because you’re my love and I don’t need anything else. Just you.”

Your heart melted as you softly kisses your future husband. “Okay, then. I wanna be your wife.”

————————————————————————

The wedding

Did anyone think your wedding would be small? Absolutely not. You hadn’t shut up about wanting a huge, fat Plaza wedding where everyone you knew would be invited, and you’d party all night with your insanely handsome husband while wearing a stunning Ellie Saab gown and sky-high Jimmy Choos. It had been your dream since you were a little girl.

You had all these plans, all these meticulously crafted visions for your perfect day, the flowers, the venue, the glitz, and glam but nothing, nothing, could have ever compared to the reality.

Nothing could have compared to Azriel.

Not the faceless groom who had always existed in your girlish dreams. Not the exclusivity of the prestigious venue or the shimmering of the evening.

Because it was him.

His steady hand holding yours as if he never intended to let go. The way his eyes never left you, not when you walked down the aisle, not when you exchanged vows, and certainly not as you danced in his arms under the soft glow of chandeliers.

Azriel made your dream wedding look trivial in comparison. He was the only part of the fantasy you’d never dared to dream up, and yet, he was better than anything you could’ve imagined.

At one point, you had actually wanted to elope. You literally couldn’t wait to marry him, pestering and prodding him every chance you got.

“Ya sure we shouldn’t just run away and get married? Wouldn’t it be sooo much fun, Azzie?” you’d asked, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

And yeah, Azriel totally wanted to marry you as soon as possible. The idea of waking up next to you as his wife was all he ever wanted. But he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. The way your eyes lit up when you talked about the wedding, how you dreamed of wearing a baby pink dress that wouldn’t be done justice in a courthouse was the only thing stopping him from saying yes.

“I would love to, sweetheart,” he had said, brushing his thumb gently over your knuckles. “But I know you want a beautiful wedding, and that’s exactly what we’ll have.”

And he’d made good on that promise. Because here you were, twirling on the dance floor in a stunning soft pink Ellie Saab gown that shimmered under the chandeliers, the air filled with laughter and love, all while Azriel’s gaze never left you, utterly captivated by the woman he was lucky enough to call his wife.

It was a small wedding, just your closest friends and family gathered intimately but it was still at the Plaza, still the fairytale wedding you had always dreamed of.

You beamed up at him, practically vibrating with excitement. “Can you believe we’re actually married? Like, you’re my husband. I can call you my husband now. That’s so hot, like, ‘Oh yeah, let me get my husband,’ or ‘My husband knows what to do.’”

Azriel’s lips quirked into that quiet smile reserved just for you. “I think you’ve said ‘husband’ more times in the past minute than most people do in a week.”

“And it’s only the beginning,” you giggled, leaning closer. “I’m never getting over this, husband.”

His hand found the small of your back, grounding you in that gentle, steady way only he could. “Good. Because neither am I, wife.”

Then he gave you the softest, most loving kiss ever. It was a kiss filled with the promise of your future, the one you’d spend together.

—

Sand. Palms. Warm weathers and the ocean.

You had been surrounded by your favorite things with your favorite person. It had been a few days since your wedding and you were now on your honeymoon.

The private island your father had gifted you as a married couple was absolutely perfect. It was completely magical and completely hidden away.

A single sprawling villa stood at the heart of it, with panoramic views of the turquoise ocean. Vibrant flowers bloomed in every imaginable color, their fragrance mingling with the salty breeze. Fruit trees, heavy with sweet, ripe fruit, dotted the landscape. And you were sharing it all with your husband.

That’s right, Azriel was officially your husband now, and you were his freaking wife. Sometimes it didn’t feel real, and other times it felt very real.

Like those times when Azriel made you ride him, begging you to call him nothing but husband. And he called you nothing but wife. His sweet wife, his beautiful wife, his sexy wife.

Azriel was unbelievably romantic, spoiling you left and right with thoughtful little gifts. Yesterday it was a jaw-dropping pair of diamond earrings; the day before that, a golden anklet etched with your initials intertwined. Every step you took made that anklet jingle softly, a reminder of how deeply he loved you.

It was also a cute reminder when he folded you in half, ankles in the air as the jewelry jingled. You had fucked just about everywhere. Outside, inside, on tables, in the hammock, on the beach chairs, and even right on the beach itself. That was the privilege of being utterly alone. You could do whatever the hell you wanted, scream and moan as loud as you pleased, without a single soul hearing or seeing Azriel slut you out.

That’s why you’d packed the sluttiest outfits imaginable — stringy bikinis, barely-there skirts, and see-through dresses. All scraps of fabric that Azriel would be tearing off anyway.

Your favorite ensemble was the white silk nightgown from Agent Provocateur that you’d worn on the first night. It was bridal, beautiful, and the match that lit this trip. The second Azriel saw it, he’d lost control and sanity. You’d ended up in so many positions that you couldn't walk without help the next day. He’d truly worn you out.

You still remembered the way his eyes had darkened when you stepped out of the bathroom and spun for him, showing off that sinful gown.

That was probably why you were now slipping into a baby pink lace bra and panties set — delicate and stunning. You tied it all together with a silk robe that wasn’t hiding anything, only highlighting everything. An open invitation, really.

“How’s dinner going, husband?” you asked, your freshly manicured hand grazing down his shirtless back.

“It’s coming along nicely, actually. Are you hungry, sweetheart?” he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and scrunching it adorably as he stirred the sauce.

You smiled at the little quirk you loved so much. His glasses made your heart race every time. “Uh-huh, sure. I’m hungry. Actually, I’m reeeeally hungry.”

“Yeah? It’ll be done soon, and—”

His words faltered when he glanced down at you.

There was so much love and lust swirling in your gaze, your pupils dilated and locked on him. His throat went dry, forcing him to swallow once—then again.

“Everything okay, husband?” you asked innocently, voice soft and sweet, knowing damn well you were driving him crazy. There was nothing innocent or sweet about the way your hand dragged down his chest, all the way to his built abs and v-like that disappeared down his pants.

Azriel’s voice came out rough. “Oh, you’re not being fair, sweetheart.”

A slow, playful smile curled your lips. “Azzie, c’mon let’s fuck. Right here, right now.” you grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the kitchen island. There you looked up at him with those doe eyes, all innocent and sweet before you carefully let your robe drop.

“So, you gonna make me beg? i’ll totally do it,” you suggest with a little smile.

“Alright then, beg.”

—

“Wait—don’t hide your pretty face from me—fuck,” azriel reaches over and grabs both your hands in one of his.

God, you were being slutted out, whimpering mindlessly as you bounced in his lap. his ridiculously big dick was fittin’ just right, so snugly deep in your cunt.

“I want to see my wife’s face, so fucking pretty, might just cum from looking at it,” azriel was also a mumbling mess, groans and noises of pleasure escaping him whenever you lifted yourself and sat back down, your cunt sucking him in greedily.

The house was filled with so sinful noises, the noises were just sloppy, nasty, each ‘plop!’ and ‘pap!’ that echoed from both bodies was sending a wave of chills down azriel’s spine. The loud sounds echoing through the room only spurred him on more, making him fuck you harder, deeper, wanting to hear you cry louder.

“mm- az, there baby. righttttt there, fuck me good,” you’d weep out in a sweet whimper. he was in so fucking deep. A ring of cum had started to form around the base of his dick and dripped down his balls from how wet you were. you felt every delicious stroke, felt the way his tip kissed your cervix. fuck- you rolled your hips in circles, making his already fuzzy brain go more empty.

the combo of your sinful hips and the way your wet cunt was vacuuming each and every inch was just pushing him closer to the edge, turning him into a fucking mess. “o- oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum. keep ridin’ me, ride me good—shit, I-I think i’m gonna cum.” Azriel’s brows furrow in pleasure as he pushes the hair that fallen over his eyes back.

“ ‘s okay, azzie. you can c- cum inside,” you whisper breathlessly against the crook of his neck. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as your hips rut into him quicker.

“god- ‘m cummin’ fuck- ‘m cumming,” he moans, and his entire body erupts. his hand snakes down between your perspiring bodies just as he rubs tight circles on your clit, the small move pushing you over the edge as your walls spasm around his leaking tip, still spurting out rope after rope as your fell against his chest.

Your eyes are glossed over in pleasure and you felt like bawling your eyes out. There was nothing more beautiful than post sex with Azriel. It was all so emotional and sweet and you didn’t miss the way he held you closer.

Your pulled away from him, just enough to see his face. Azriel was already staring at you with no less lust or love than before. You pouted a bit before kissing his swollen lips. He’s so pretty, god.

Azriel’s inside were swirling around and it didn’t help that you were looking up at him, freshly fucked with so much love and submission in your eyes. It was like your eyes were saying the words you couldn’t. Azriel’s hand carefully stroked your bottom lip from your between your teeth.

“These eyes, man. You keep looking at me like that and I might get you pregnant, sweetheart.”

Azriel as a dad? A DILF? Fuck yeah.

“Do it then, knock me up, Azzie.”

————————————————————————

The pregnancy

You stood in front of the mirror, frowning as you tried to zip up your cute, frilly mini skirt. It wasn’t fitting quite like it used to. “Hm, there must be something wrong with this skirt. It’s not fitting me anymore,” you muttered, tugging at it a little. You huffed in frustration but quickly brightened. “Oh well, I guess that means it’s time to go shopping!”

You slipped on your favorite pair of black Manolos, but as you tried to squeeze your feet into them, they didn’t quite cooperate. You wiggled your toes and huffed again, forcing them in. “No way are my Manolos not fitting. They have to. These are my favorite!” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as you took a few shaky steps, struggling to balance.

Azriel walked in, his brow furrowing in concern when he saw you wobbling. “Everything okay, love?” His gaze drifted down to your feet, then to your stomach. He couldn’t help but notice how your clothes didn’t seem to fit as they usually did.

You stumbled a little, catching yourself on the vanity. “I don’t get it, Azzie. This skirt and my shoes… why aren’t they fitting? I haven’t changed that much have I ?!” Your confusion was evident as you looked at him, a little panicked.

Honestly, it had been three years since you graduated college and two since getting married. Did you just put on some weight?

You turned your head to Azriel, hands clamped infront of you in all seriousness. God you were totally gonna die if he said yes. “Azzie, am i getting fat?”

“No, no, sweetheart,” Azriel said quickly, his hands gently brushing over your arms, his touch soothing as if to reassure you that everything was okay. “You look healthy. I promise.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “But… Azzie,” you gestured at your shoes, “these are my Manolos, they should always fit!”

Azriel chuckled softly, his smile warm and affectionate. “Do you want to get new ones?” he asked, his voice light as he gently helped you out of your clothes, clearly more focused on making you comfortable than anything else.

You let out a sigh, the panic easing just a bit. “That sounds nice, Azzie. Thanks,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude, feeling the love in every small thing he did for you.

Not just the small things—but the big things too. Azriel’s job was stupidly well-paying, and he was loaded. It was a reward for all his hard work in school, and it made you so proud. He was the main provider and never expected a penny from you, spoiling you rotten and taking the promise of taking care of you very seriously.

He knew you’d lived a life of glamour and glitz, and lord knows he wasn’t about to mess that up. Azriel had even told your father that he’d step up and take care of you the second he landed his job as a very important something at a tech company…thingy. You never really knew what he did, but he was so hardworking and cool that it didn’t really matter.

—

Azriel noticed the changes in you immediately. You were moodier than usual, avoiding your favorite foods—especially your beloved strawberry sweets—and, to top it all off, you’d missed your period. He knew your cycle well and tracked it enough to know that a missed period was a rare occurrence. And you? Avoiding your favorite sour strawberry candy? That was unheard of.

Azriel couldn’t help but also notice how extra clingy you’d become, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. He loved you dearly, after all. You wrestled normally very clingy but not like this. For the past two weeks, you had been practically glued to his side.

You napped on top of him like you couldn’t bear to be apart for even a second. You wrapped yourself around him as if you were a koala bear, holding on tight while he read or worked. And when he left the house—even for just a few minutes, you’d become teary-eyed, giving him a sad pout as if he were leaving for an eternity.

It was both endearing and a bit concerning for him. Azriel couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the sudden shift in your behavior made him wonder. Was something off? Was this just a phase? Or, as he suspected, was it something more?

Either way, he couldn’t deny that he secretly loved the extra closeness. He’d never seen you so needy, and God you were needy at times, but it made him feel needed in a way that was deeply comforting. He would brush your hair from your face and kiss your forehead, trying his best to reassure you when you would cry about the most random things—like when he’d gone to grab groceries for ten minutes, or when he had to step out to take a call.

“You okay, love?” he asked softly, brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear as you curled up next to him once again.

“I just missed you, Azzie,” you replied, your voice small but full of affection as you nuzzled into his side before you sobbed again.

Azriel chuckled lightly, his fingers tracing comforting patterns on your back. “I’m right here, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

It was a little intense, but it also made his heart swell to know just how much you needed him.

He had a strong hunch that you might be pregnant, but he couldn’t say for sure yet. So, being the overprepared and cautious person he was, he did what any sane person would do: he bought eight different pregnancy tests.

“Juuuust to be sure,” he muttered to himself as he set the tests down on the bathroom counter, glancing over at you. You were sitting on the bed, still unaware of his little purchase.

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he was seeing the changes in you. And it really didn’t help that you were fucking like bunnies everywhere, everyday for so long without any protection.

Azriel cleared his throat, looking far too calm for someone who had just bought eight pregnancy tests. “So, sweetheart, I think I know what’s going on with you. You might be pregnant. And I’ve bought you the market’s top-rated tests.” He said it with a certain air of professionalism, like he was pitching an idea, and it left you utterly confused.

You stared at him, blinking. “Huh? Eight tests? Ain’t that kind of… a bit much?”

Azriel, however, was completely unfazed. “You see, my love, you can never be too careful. And I also suggest we visit a doctor’s office.” He handed you a massive glass of water, like it was a peace offering. “Just to help smooth things over,” he added, his eyes darting away, a faint blush creeping across his face when you arched an eyebrow at the absurdly large glass of water.

You stared at the massive glass of water, then back at Azriel. “Azzie, this is, like, a lotta water. You trying to drown me or something?” you giggled, swirling the glass dramatically before gulping it down with determination.

Azriel’s lips twitched into a smile, but he stayed close, clearly taking this whole situation very seriously. His gentle instincts wouldn’t allow for anything less.

With all eight pregnancy tests clutched in your hands, you made your way to the bathroom. “You’re staying right outside, right?” you asked, pointing a manicured finger at him. “I need you with me, Azzie baby.”

Azriel nodded, leaning against the wall like the dutiful husband he was. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be just outside.”

After a few tense minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom, wide-eyed, holding up the tests like some dramatic reveal on a reality show.

Each one displayed a positive result—two lines, a digital readout, even one that estimated how far along you were in weeks. No doubt about it. You were pregnant.

You blinked down at the assortment of tests, then back at Azriel, your voice trembling. “Azzie,” you whispered, tears welling up. “We’re having a baby.”

Azriel’s eyes softened, wonder filling his expression as he stepped closer, gently cupping your face. “My love,” he said, voice low and filled with awe. “We’re having a baby.”

You sniffled, overwhelmed, then suddenly let out a laugh through your tears. “Oh my god, I’m actually going to freak out! I already love her so much—I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Azriel’s lips curved into a soft laugh, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “Her? You think it’s a girl?”

You nodded lovingly. “Totally. I just know it, Azzie. You’re so a girl dad. And she’s gonna be adorable and for sure super smart, just like you.”

Azriel’s laugh deepened, warm and genuine. “Then she’ll be perfect, just like her mom,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

—

Pregnancy was unique, and Azriel found it endlessly charming. The way you waddled around in your third trimester never failed to make his heart swell. You didn’t think it was cute, but to Azriel, it was nothing short of endearing. And he made sure to let you know it every chance he got.

It hadn’t started out easy, though. Morning sickness had you in its grasp for weeks, and you couldn’t help but blame Azriel for it every time it hit. One day, after a particularly rough attempt at cooking chicken, you were hunched over the toilet, and when Azriel walked by, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“You did this to me!” you yelled, your voice a mix of frustration and nausea. “I’m sick, and it’s all your fault, Azriel. God, I can’t even eat chicken anymore and—”

But your rant was cut short when the reminder of the chicken hit you again, and you immediately had to empty your guts once more.

Azriel stood there, helpless but always ready to support you. He nodded in agreement, his face a mixture of amusement and sympathy. “It’s all my fault,” he agreed quickly, his voice full of mock guilt. “I’m so sorry for getting you pregnant. How irresponsable of me.”

You shot him a look, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, it’s totally your fault,” you said dramatically, sinking down onto the cool bathroom floor and leaning your head on his shoulder as he crouched next to you.

Azriel didn’t mind; he just wrapped an arm around you, offering comfort. Even as you faced the discomforts of pregnancy, you refused to wear anything you didn’t like. You weren’t about to settle for ugly maternity clothes, not when you could still squeeze into your regular outfits. And so what if your t-shirt was riding up your stomach? it was still cute and you’d wear just that. It was just you plus a bump.

Even with you sick and throwing up left and right, Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen you so beautiful. You were glowing and had this ethereal beauty surrounding you at all times. It made no sense at times that someone as beautiful as you existed.

—

In these final weeks, the fear of giving birth and the reality of taking care of the baby were your biggest worries. Azriel, always attentive, made sure to check on you daily, asking if you had any pain, discomfort, or thoughts you needed to share.

You sighed deeply, looking over at him. “Well, I’m kinda scared, baby.”

Azriel scooted closer, rubbing your feet, and the second his hands made contact, it felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders. His touch was like magic, calming your racing thoughts.

“Yeah? Wanna talk about it?”

You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “I’m scared of giving birth, ya know? I watched some videos, and honestly, I’d rather not do it at all. Like, babies should be born painlessly, right? I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch, and I’m just… terrified.”

Azriel leaned in, his hand still caressing your foot gently. “I won’t lie to you, honey, it’s gonna be scary,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “But listen to me: you’re not going to be alone. I’m going to be right there with you, every step of the way. I’ll hold your hand, I’ll be the one to remind you how strong you are. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back into him, feeling his warmth and the sincerity of his words. The fear didn’t disappear entirely, but with him beside you, it seemed just a little more manageable. “I jus’ don’t wanna mess it up. I want to be a good mom, ya know?”

“You’ll be an amazing mom. The best,” Azriel said without hesitation, his voice full of certainty. “You’ve already proven that. And we’ll be doing this together, so you’ll never be alone.”

You smiled, feeling a little braver. “Thanks, Azzie. I really needed to hear that.”

“Always, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand still holding yours with a tenderness that made you feel like you could take on anything. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “So, does this officially make you a dilf?”

Azriel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, and just like that, you’re a milf,” he teased, his smile growing as he gave your belly a gentle rub.

You liked the sound of that, you and Azriel officially being hot parents.

—

“Okay, I need this baby to get the fuck out.”

Yes, that’s right. You were still very pregnant, and it was starting to drive you mad. Hot one second, cold the next, hungry then nauseous. Everything felt off, and you were so uncomfortable. You were too damn pregnant.

“Oh my god, just get out, get out, get outtttt!”

Azriel stood next to you, trying to be supportive as usual. He was breathing way too loud, and standing just a little too close. “Seriously, breathe louder, Az. That’s just great,” you snapped, throwing your hands up in frustration. Your pink diamond ring caught the light, and your eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Sorry, I’ll just stop,” he said casually, clearly not bothered by your outburst.

Great. Now you felt fucking awful. He wasn’t the one who’d been throwing up for the past few months but he’d been the one holding your hair back, rubbing your feet, and making sure you were comfortable 24/7. You definitely didn’t want to stop breathing because that would cause him to die and you just couldn’t have that.

“‘m sorry,” you said, your voice shaky as you reached for him, burying your face in his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to snap. I don’t want you to stop breathing. You’re not annoying, I’m just—” you sniffled, feeling like a mess. “I love you so much, but gods, I’m so over being pregnant. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Please don’t hate me.”

Azriel’s eyes softened as you broke down into his shoulder, his hand instinctively moving to soothe you. He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you closer as he gently rubbed your back, his presence steady and grounding.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “I know you’re done. You’ve been so strong this whole time, and I’m proud of you. But we’re almost there. Just a little longer.”

You sniffled, your face buried in his shirt, feeling the warmth of his embrace despite the chaos swirling in your mind. “I just feel like I’m going to lose it. I’m too hot, then cold. I can’t eat without feeling sick, and everything aches. I just want her here already. I love her so much, but I can’t do this anymore.”

Azriel chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment as he whispered, “How about we get her out by going for a walk and eating something spicy? Heard that works wonders. And if that doesn’t, uh… I heard sex helps.”

The blush creeping up his neck was unmistakable, and your heart squeezed at how he still managed to get shy around you.

You grinned through your tears. “How about we skip all that and head straight to the part where you fuck me real good?”

Azriel’s lips curved into a slow smile, though his face was still red. “Y-Yeah—hell yeah. Let’s do that.”

And he did. One very good fuck fest and 7 hours of labor brought your beautiful baby girl into the world. She was perfect—so tiny, so sweet, and when she opened her eyes, they were unmistakably Azriel’s.

“You did it, sweetheart,” Azriel whispered as he held her close, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s here. Our babygirl is finally here. Thank you, my love. For blessing us. For your hard work. I’m so proud of you.”

Azriel kissed you deeply and as you looked at your baby girl and the love of your life, you knew every ache and tear had been worth it.

—————————————————————————

Life

You kissed the top of her head, her soft black hair looking just like her father’s. You sat on the couch with your 6-month-old baby girl nestled in your arms. When she was born, she looked just like you, but as she grew older, her sneaky little features started looking more and more like Azriel’s.

You loved her so freaking much, and sometimes you’d just start crying out of nowhere. She was a tiny part of you, someone you made with love. It was honestly wild.

“Oh, my sweetest baby angel. You’re all mine, and I love you sooo much, yes I do! Yes I do!” you cooed, nuzzling your nose against her tiny button one, making her giggle wildly. She was seriously a masterpiece. Like, such a cutie.

After feeding and rocking her, her soft snores filled the room, and you found yourself counting each adorable little breath. Pregnancy had been… a lot. You weren’t exactly the sharpest crayon in the box, and sometimes you worried about whether you’d be a good mom. But Azzie had always been there.

Carefully, you stood up and tiptoed to her bedroom, which was right next to yours and Azriel’s so you could get to her super quickly if she fussed. You gently laid her down and pulled out all the baby monitors you had stocked up on. No way were you taking chances with your baby girl.

And sure, maybe three monitors and an Owlet sock was a tiny bit much, but whatever. And Azriel totally agreed.

You found him standing next to the door, still clad in his handsome dress shirt and slacks. Your walked over to him as you slumped your body against his, melting against his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "Every day I thank the gods we didn't end up with a fussy baby. she goes to sleep so easy." he smiled, placing his chin on the top of your head. 

Here’s a cleaned-up and polished version while keeping her adorable, slightly flustered tone intact:

“Right? She’s totally in sync with me, and I’m so happy she’s so calm.”

“I really missed you today. A lot.”

Your heart started beating faster. Azriel was so casual about stuff like that, and it made you blush every time. He used to be shy and reserved about sharing his feelings, but now he’d just say it right to your face without hesitation.

And, of course, it turned you into a blushing mess over a few simple words.

“Y-you did? I missed you too.”

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. His voice dropped to that low, heart-melting tone he knew drove you wild.

“I missed you very much. Very, very much. And I’m going to show you exactly how much.” You giggle and blush like crazy when be grabs your waist and carefully chucks you over his shoulder, giving your ass a loud smack.

God, you love your life.

🏷️:

[neferaskingdom]

Valentine Hotline | LN4

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Running a Valentine’s hotline was supposed to be fun—until she accidentally helps Bob plan the perfect date… for herself.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

The last thing she expected to be doing this Valentine’s Day was running an anonymous emergency hotline for lovesick fools, but here she was—headset on, taking call after call, all in the name of charity. Her best friend had roped her into this, promising it would be “fun,” but so far, all she had done was talk panicked men out of buying last-minute gas station flowers.

Her latest call came in with a hesitant, almost nervous greeting. “Uh… hi. Is this Cupid?”

“That’s me,” she said, suppressing a laugh at the ridiculous alias she’d been assigned. “How can I help you, caller?”

There was a pause before he mumbled, “I need help asking out my crush.”

She smiled, already endeared. “Of course! What’s your name?”

A beat of silence, then—“Bob.”

She snorted. “Bob, huh? Okay, Bob, tell me about your crush.”

Bob sighed dreamily, and when he spoke again, it was with a kind of reverence that made her heart melt. “She’s amazing. Like, so cute, but not in a way that she even realizes. And she’s really smart—like, she remembers the smallest details about people, and she’s kind, too. Like, the kind of kind where she doesn’t even think twice about it, she just does things that make life easier for everyone around her. And she’s so funny, sometimes without even trying. I mean, she makes me laugh over the dumbest things. And—God, she’s way out of my league, but I really, really like her. It’s ridiculous how much I like her.”

Her heart melted. “That’s adorable. Have you spoken to her before?”

“Sort of,” he admitted. “We work together, but I don’t talk to her a lot because… well, I’m afraid I’ll say something stupid. I get irrationally shy around her.”

That piqued her curiosity. “Coworker, huh? What do you guys do?”

“I can’t say too much, or it’ll be obvious who I am,” Bob said quickly.

She nodded, intrigued but respecting his anonymity. “Alright, Bob. First things first, you need to start interacting with her more—test the waters, see how she reacts to you. Start flirting a little.”

“Oh God.”

She laughed. “Relax! I’ll help you. We’ll come up with a plan.”

And so, over the next few days, she helped Bob craft the perfect approach. They planned small conversations, little ways for him to test the waters—compliments, inside jokes, light teasing. He seemed enthusiastic yet nervous, but she assured him he was doing great.

Strangely, around the same time, Lando Norris—someone who had never gone out of his way to talk to her before—started showing up more often. He’d stop by her desk with a cheeky grin, making flirty comments that left her flushed. At first, she chalked it up to him just being friendly, but it kept happening.

“Looking good today,” Lando said one afternoon, leaning casually against her desk.

She rolled her eyes but felt her face warm. “Are you just going around giving out compliments to everyone?”

“Only to the pretty ones.” He winked, and she nearly choked on her coffee.

It was weird. But she couldn’t say she hated it.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, she was finishing up some work when Lando hovered nearby, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He shifted from foot to foot before finally clearing his throat.

“Hey, um… can I talk to you for a sec?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

She turned in her chair, surprised by his serious tone. “Sure, what’s up?”

He exhaled, looking at the floor before meeting her eyes. “I… uh, was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. Like, on a date. For Valentine’s Day.”

Her brain short-circuited for a moment. “Wait. You’re asking me out?”

Lando winced. “I mean, yeah? But you don’t have to say yes, obviously, I just thought—”

She cut him off with a grin. “Lando, I’d love to.”

His eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

The relief on his face was almost comical. “Oh. Oh, cool! That’s great. Okay, um, yeah, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He left looking a little dazed but incredibly happy, and she couldn't help but smile to herself.

That night, Bob called her one last time.

“She said yes!” he practically shouted through the phone. “I asked her out, and she said yes!”

She grinned, heart swelling with pride. “Bob! That’s amazing! I told you she’d like you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Seriously, if—no, when—we get married, you’re getting an invite.”

She laughed. “I’ll hold you to that. Have fun on your date, Bob.”

“Thanks, Cupid. You’re the best.”

And with that, her hotline duties were done.

The next evening, she met Lando for their date, dressed in a pretty outfit and buzzing with anticipation. He looked a little nervous, which was unusual for him, but she found it endearing. The restaurant was charming, the table setup romantic—candles, her favorite flowers, the works.

She took one look at it all and hesitated. The setup felt oddly familiar. Too familiar.

The restaurant. The flowers. The exact order of events.

Her stomach flipped as a ridiculous but nagging thought entered her mind. She looked at Lando, who was focused on cutting his steak, completely unaware of her staring.

“This is going to sound weird,” she began slowly, watching his reaction, “but do you know someone named Bob?”

Lando’s knife froze mid-slice. His head snapped up so fast she thought he might get whiplash. “W-what?”

She gaped at him. “Oh my God. You’re Bob, aren’t you??”

Lando opened and closed his mouth like a fish, looking utterly horrified. “H-how do you—how do you know that?”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Because I’m Cupid.”

Lando choked on his water, coughing as his eyes widened in horror. “No. No way.”

“Yes way,” she said, grinning at his absolute mortification. “I can’t believe I spent days coaching you on how to flirt with me.”

Lando groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God. I’m never living this down.”

She reached across the table, placing her hand over his. “Lando.”

He peeked at her between his fingers. “Yeah?”

She smiled softly. “So… all those sweet things you said about your crush… they were actually about me?”

Lando groaned again, face going bright red. “I—uh—maybe?”

She felt her heart flutter, warmth spreading through her chest. “That’s honestly the sweetest thing ever.”

Lando let out a breath, rubbing his temples. “You must think I’m such a loser. Calling a hotline of all things just to figure out how to ask you out.”

She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “No. I think it’s endearing. You went out of your way to make sure you got it right. You wanted it to be perfect. That’s really, really sweet.”

He looked at her, expression softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Their dinner was filled with laughter and easy conversation, and by the time he walked her to her door, she felt lighter than ever. He hesitated on her porch, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So, uh… goodnight?”

She rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “Goodnight, Bob.”

Before he could groan again, she kissed him, soft and sweet, smiling against his lips as he melted into it. When she pulled away, he was grinning like an idiot.

“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” he murmured.

She laughed. “Yeah. I think so too.”

[luveline]

hey jade!!! do u think we can get a little something with bombshell and spencer 🙏🙏 missing them

—you and spencer get serious. 1.3k

“So,” you say, holding two hands behind your back, shoulders tight in a vague attempt at flirting, “come here often?” 

“To Austin?” Spencer nods. “This is the tenth time we’ve been in the last five years.”

“Big city. Thirteenth most populous city in the entire country, right? That’s a lot of crime.”

Spencer smiles approvingly. “Right.” 

“At least this one was easy.” 

You’re standing in the sunshine outside of a bar near the hangar, waiting for the jet to finish loading, the rest of the team inside drinking a round of well-earned drinks. Spencer was in good spirits but didn’t seem to love the ruckus, so you’d made some excuse about feeling light-headed and promised you’d be alright as long as Spencer came outside with you. 

You don’t not feel dizzy. You’ve been under the weather all week. Spencer’s concern has had moments of obviousness. He’s roped it in for now, only evidence of his worry the lack of space between you. 

You’re enjoying the game you’re playing for now. You lovingly ignore him. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” 

“Uh, trying to get home, honestly.” 

“Yeah?” 

“See, I know this girl,” he says, his voice a soft pattern of itself, “and she’s– she’s great. She really is. She’s smart, and she’s beautiful, and she’s stubborn as a mule when she wants to be. She won’t let me take care of her out here. I’m hoping when we get back, she’ll let me take her home. So I can look after her.” He has no intention of playing the ignoring game with you. 

“Stubborn as a mule,” you murmur, leaning back against the bar’s brick exterior, lulled into security by his voice, and the sweet breeze that passes over you, the right side of cold as the sun begins to set behind the buildings across the street and beyond. 

“You like that one?” 

“No. Not my favourite comparison.” 

Spencer holds his hand out across the way, palm up but low, his fingers still. “Stubborn,” he says as you slip your hand into his, “but in a good way.” 

“…I don’t need you to take care of me,” you say softly. 

“But I want to.” 

You don’t know why you’ve been struggling with Spencer lately. It certainly isn’t something he’s done wrong, and it’s not the first time he’s wanted to look after you. But things between you are looking serious. Just a few weeks ago you took the ‘next step’, long overdue, and you told him you loved him. You do. 

“If I did something–”

You wince and he stops. You knew he’d bring it up eventually, but it doesn’t make it hurt less. What a mess you’re making. “You didn’t do anything,” you say. 

“Are you sure?” 

“No, Spencer, it’s not you, really, it’s not, it’s me–”

The face he makes is of unbridled horror. You’re worried he’ll snatch his hand back. He squeezes tighter. “What are you saying?” he asks, his frown a pout that turns your heart. 

“I’m not breaking up with you. I’m sorry, that was a fright wasn’t it?” you ask, squeezing him too, pulling at him as you slip against his side. Your faces are close enough to kiss. “Not breaking up. I can’t describe how much I don’t want that.” 

“But?” he asks. 

“But… there’s been some chafing, lately, on my end.” 

“‘Cos of me?” 

“Aw, Spencer,” you murmur, turning your front into his side as you hold your free hand over his heart, “no, baby. No… No, it’s not because of you, or– it’s not your fault. I was alone for a while before you, and I guess being sick just reminded me that things are different.” 

“And you don’t like it?” 

“Spencer, please,” you plead gently, rubbing your thumb against his chest. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I love you–”

“I love you.” 

“–and I’m not asking for anything here, not space, not for you to change, I just want to tell you how I’ve been feeling so you can stop confusing it for something you might’ve done wrong.” 

Some days being with Spencer feels like you’re the same soul in two different bodies. It’s moments like this that remind you of how human he is, the depth of his feelings, and how much he cares about you —how much you can affect his life. He’s frowning like he’s not far from tears and you regret ever bringing it up in the first place, but you have to finish now. 

“It’s scary, for me, sometimes, to be with you,” you say eventually. 

“For me, too.” 

“I worry I’ll get used to you and one day I won’t have you.” 

“I promise you will,” he says. 

“But you don’t know that.” 

“For however long you’ll let me have you, you can have me,” he says simply. 

You tease a line into his chest with your two fingertips. “I love how you look after me. There’s nothing like it. I fall asleep sick and I wake up knowing you’re there to make me a cup of tea, and to help me shower when my head’s hurting, you don’t let me down. You know that?” 

“So why can’t I look after you tonight?” he asks, eyes dark as pine tar. 

“You can. You think I’m not going home with you?” 

“I wasn’t sure.” 

“Please let me come home with you.” 

Spencer lets his forehead drop gently against yours. The breeze runs a loop around your legs and cools your too-warm shoulders, pulling your blouse from clammy skin. For a while, you wait for him to speak, but when he doesn’t you figure you’ve overwhelmed him with your confession, maybe you’ve upset him. 

He rubs the tips of your noses together slightly. 

“Are you still dizzy?” 

“No.” Your voice is a croak. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, being scared of the future? It’s okay.” 

“I think it sounded like it was your fault.” 

“I won’t take it that way if you don’t mean it like that,” he promises. “I just want to look after you, angel. I want to be with you. I’m scared all the time that one day I won’t have you, but then you smile at me or you–” He laughs. “You tug on my hair trying to make me kiss you and I don’t feel that way for a while. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“The only thing that worries me is life.” 

“Not much you can do about that,” he says.

“I know. I didn’t mean for it to get to you, too.”

He makes a nice humming sound, says, “I want you to feel better, and come home with me, and I don’t really care if I have to beg. You know I will.” 

“You should know you don’t have to beg for anything. Not from me.” 

Spencer’s hand comes up to your neck. He holds it carefully, pressing the soft of his cheek against your temple, the other hand working its way behind your back. “And you’re worried I might leave you?” he asks, laughing bashfully as he presses two kisses to whatever bit of skin he can fin, the side of your nose and the soft well under your eye. “When you’re saying stuff like that to me? In public?” 

“It’s hardly the worst thing I’ve said to you in public.” 

Spencer pulls away to meet your eyes. He's smiling. Worry and love line his gaze. “Do you wanna go find something to eat before we leave?”

“Yeah,” you nod, trying hard not to smile ear to ear. “Let’s go eat.” 

[mggslover]

Valentines Savior

In which Spencer saves his best friend from a failed Valentines date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff x slight angst Content warnings: friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is tipsy, reader curses, confessions of love, vague mention of reader having abandonment issues, suggestive joke Word count: 3,6k A/n: happy valentines my lovers! 💛

Everything seemed perfect. And maybe that was the problem.

The restaurant you found yourself in had the perfect setting. There was the right amount of background noise: the clinking of wine glasses, muffled talking, occasional laughing in the back, and a jazz band playing the most atmospheric tunes. The lights weren’t too harsh—a pet peeve of yours—and the food was delicious, which you knew was a reason for you to return some other time. Just not with the person you were seated in front of now.

Kamil Everett was a good-looking guy. Slightly older than you, but not enough to doubt his reasons for being into you. He had the perfect jaw structure, covered in the perfect amount of neatly trimmed stubble. He had nice, white teeth, not the kind that you could tell was fake. He wore a cologne that was strong enough to notice, but not overpowering enough to bother you. He’d put effort into his hair and outfit, and he asked questions that showed interest but weren’t too invasive. He was perfect. Again, just perfect.

Still, the little devil on your shoulder nagged at you that this wasn’t what you were looking for. That something was missing, something neither Kamil nor the restaurant could give you.

You jumped in your seat when a pocket-sized Penelope with pink wings suddenly popped onto your right shoulder. Fuck, you’d been drinking too much.

“I am sick of this! Truly!” Penelope’s chipmunk voice peeped right into your ear.

“How many times have you come to me, saying, ‘Oh Penelope, someone has put a curse on me. There are no cute guys anywhere. The universe hates me’, and look at you now! Perfect guy, right over there!” Her small finger pointed at Kamil, and you pulled a sour face.

Angel Penelope responded by shaking her head in disapproval. “I will never hear you complain again. Now make sure to turn the poor thing down nicely and send him over to my place so I can give him some love.”

You chuckled at her comment.

“Are you okay?”

You choked on your red wine as Kamil spoke up. Devil you and Angel Penelope disappeared from your shoulders in a cloud of smoke. You coughed a couple of times before nodding, “Yeah, I am so fine.”

You looked at Kamil, seeing the genuine concern in his brown eyes. You knew you couldn’t continue keeping him on like that. “Actually, I think this is not going to work.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean us,” you answered, pointing your finger between the two of you. “You’re a great guy. I just don’t feel… the spark.”

He scoffed under his breath, immediately standing up and pushing his chair back to the table. You grabbed his wrist as he tried walking off.

“I swear, you’re great! I’m the problem. It’s always me, actually.”

Kamil didn’t get soothed by your words, pulling his arm free out of your grasp and turning his back to you, walking toward the exit.

“I have a great friend!” you yelled after him. “She’s an angel. Literally!” He kept walking, ignoring your pleas.

“I could send you her address! Kamil!”

“Ma’am, please tone it down or I’ll have to call security.”

You looked up to find a stern-looking woman standing in front of your table. When you looked around, all the couples at the surrounding tables were staring at you. You offered them a tight-lipped smile and mouthed a small sorry.

Once the critiquing whispers calmed down, you grabbed your phone from out of your purse, finding Spencer in your emergency contacts as you clicked on the call button.

“Hey, how are you-”

You shushed him. “I’m in a restaurant, whisper, or they’ll kick me out.”

Spencer listened and lowered his voice. “The new one downtown? I’ve been meaning to go there.”

“Well, consider today your lucky day. If you can make it in fifteen minutes, I’ll have dessert ordered for you.”

You chuckled as you heard his keys jingling from the other end of the line. “I’m heading out right now.”

“Good,” you laughed. “I’ll see you then.”

-`♡´-

A sigh of relief escaped you when Spencer walked into the restaurant. He gave you a smile and lifted his hand as he spotted the table you were seated at.

You stood up from your seat, letting out a satisfied groan as he enveloped you in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too. I can’t wait for ice cream.”

You chuckled, leaning back to see his face.

“You smell nice,” he complimented.

“Oh why, thank you,” you playfully responded, grinning as you both sat down.

Spencer observed the cutlery and half-drunk glass of wine in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “I assume I’m not the first person you offered dessert to.”

“Nope,” you answered, exaggeratedly popping the p. “Was on a date.”

Spencer lifted his eyebrows. “Another one?”

“Hey, don’t judge me! At least I go on dates.”

“Does it count if they all run away before dessert?”

You scoffed a laugh in surprise, not prepared for his burn. “You’re such an ass.”

He cheekily grinned. “What was his name?”

“Kamil,” you deeply sighed, knowing you’ll be getting chills every time you hear that name from now on.

“Did you know Kamil is derived from the Arabic element kāmil? Which means “perfect” or “complete”.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your glass before taking a sip. “Of fucking course.”

You thanked the waiter as he set two neatly made plates of dessert down on the table.

“I thought you gave up on dating,” Spencer wondered out loud, humming as he took his first bite of ice cream.

“I was,” you responded, taking a bite yourself. “Valentine’s an exception, though. I don’t want to be sitting at home by myself.”

“You could’ve asked me to come over. We still haven’t seen all the Star Wars movies,” he responded, commenting on the movie marathon you started last month. Then he pointed his spoon at you, “Well, you haven’t.”

“I know. I just meant spending the day with a lover.”

“I could be your lover.”

Before you knew it, the wine shot out of your mouth, painting your dress and the white tablecloth red.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked in worry, hurrying to your side as you continued coughing.

“Spencer-” you coughed a couple more times, and his arms made their way around your body, your hands reaching out to pull them off. “Spencer, I swear to god,” you sputtered out, “do not perform the Heimlich on me.”

The fact that you were able to talk reassured him enough to loosen his grip around you. Still, he didn’t leave your side.

You looked down to see the inevitable: your dress was ruined.

“Fuck, I loved this dress,” you groaned in annoyance.

“Here, let me-” Spencer grabbed a napkin from the table, turning back to you and tapping your chest dry. His eyes were focused on the low neckline of your dress, and the movements of his hand slowed, as if hypnotized.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” He hummed as he continued tapping the now non-existent wine droplets.

“Can you stop touching my boobs?”

He dropped the napkin like it caught fire.

“I-, I wasn’t-”

“You totally were,” you widely grinned.

“No!”

“Yes, you were. You’ve been staring at my boobs all night.”

Spencer swallowed. His gaze quickly landed on your cleavage before he blinked up at you. “Well, I can’t help it when you’re wearing a dress that’s showing décolletage.”

“Ha! You admitted it.”

A red flush crept up his neck, spreading over his cheeks. “That was a ploy! You were tricking me!”

“Ma’am, this is your last warning; I need you to leave the restaurant now.”

-`♡´-

The moon hung low in the sky, the streets cast in a warm yellow glow of the lampposts. A slight breeze caught your skin as you walked out of the restaurant.

“Well, that was a disaster.”

“You shouldn’t have kept insisting on a doggy bag.” Spencer laughed.

You let out a chuckle, turning to him. “Did you see the look on her face?”

Your comment spurred more laughter from Spencer, making him fall against you in response. You widely grinned and nudged his shoulder, feeling proud of getting him to laugh like that.

“This reminds me of the time when I first joined the team and you asked me to have dinner.” You recalled once your laughter had calmed down, still trying to catch your breath.

The moment felt like yesterday. It was strange to be reminded of the fact that it happened years ago. Spencer had caught your attention the instant you joined the team, which was surprising considering the fact he wasn’t a big talker. Well, he talked most out of everyone, but it always stayed on the case, rarely sharing something personal.

That’s why it surprised you that one day, on the jet after finishing a case, Spencer moved from the couch he usually found himself on to the empty chair opposite you. You remember finding it endearing how nervous he looked as he asked you to have dinner with him in a restaurant downtown.

You’d overheard the several times he asked other team members to join him in activities, whether it was a new food chain opening or a movie screening. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no. Besides that, you were curious to get to know the so-called genius Spencer Reid better. He amazed you again when the dinner turned out to be one of the times you’ve laughed hardest in your life. Since then, you knew Spencer would be at the top of your friend list.

“You seem to have a habit of spitting out your drink.” Spencer mused with a grin.

You returned his smile. “That’s because you seem to have a habit of trying to make me spit out my drink by acting like you’re in love with me.”

Due to your tipsy state, you didn’t notice the way Spencer broke eye contact, the way he nervously tapped his fingers against his pants, and how he seemed to look anywhere but at you.

If it wasn’t for the subtle shudder of your shoulder against his, he might’ve never gained the courage to look you in the face again.

“Are you cold?” He asked considerately, his eyes taking over your form.

You looked down at your outfit, reminded again that you were just wearing a sleeveless dress. “Kind of.”

Without saying another word, Spencer took off his corduroy jacket. He held it open by the sleeves, making it easy for you to slide your arms in. His hand grazed the back of your neck as he tugged the collar up, then pulled your hair out from underneath the material, letting your locks fall over the jacket.

You softly mumbled a thanks, and Spencer responded back with a sweet smile.

“It looks better on you anyway.”

You chuckled, “Such a sweet talker.”

“Just to you,” he replied, a little too fast for his liking as he saw your gaze drop to the ground.

What he wasn’t aware of was the rush of butterflies that soared through you at his words, ambushing you in a way so surprising it made you feel nauseous. Or maybe you were still feeling the effects of the alcohol.

It was ironic how naturally the compliments rolled off of his tongue, how effortlessly romantic gestures came to your friend — actions you longed for in your dates.

Spencer Reid was old-fashioned, a gentleman, sure, but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more than just kindness to his acts. If Derek and Penelope were right every time they gave teasing looks when Spencer brought you your favorite coffee, or when he’d made sure the seat next to you on the jet was always occupied by him.

“Are you okay? You seem quiet.” Spencer noted after the two of you had walked in silence for the last couple of minutes.

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a sigh. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

His question slipped in your ears just as easily as it went out, as your attention was taken by the neon gelato sign across the street. The brightly colored flavors stood on display, a harsh white light shining down on it, luring you like a moth to a flame.

“Gelato.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed, but before he could make sense of your answer, you took a leap, crossing the street as if invincible to any vehicle that was speeding on the road.

“What are you doing?!” Spencer yelped in panic, eyes flicking over the road before sprinting after you, ignoring the honking cars.

His warm hand caught yours, and in a hurry, he pulled you onto the sidewalk, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the brick wall, Spencer hovering over you as he caught his breath.

He blinked at you in disbelief, jaw tense, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“We’re all mad here,” you dramatically quote, pointing to yourself, “I’m mad,” and then placing your hand on his chest, “you’re mad.”

“Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” he mumbled.

You nodded your head, a wide grin displayed on your face.

“So… gelato?” you asked, wiggling your brows.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh. “You just had ice cream.”

“Actually, I just had half an ice cream before they kicked us out. And it is not to be compared to gelato. You should know that.”

“Well, gelato does have a lower milk fat content. It usually varies between 4 to 9%, whereas ice cream has to have at least 10% of milk fat. The vast majority of brands have an even larger percentage, some even going up to 25%. Actually, now that you mention it, there are a lot more differences between American ice cream and gelato, for example, the use of eggs-”

You hummed in response as you took his hand in yours, letting him continue his ramblings as you guided him into the parlor.

-`♡´-

Your feet were dangling off the high chair you were sitting on as you licked the red plastic spoon clean that came with your dessert.

“I haven’t properly thanked you for helping me earlier. You really are my Valentines savior.”

Spencer smiled, pulling a lock of hair behind his ear. “I didn’t mind. You can always call me.”

“I know,” you replied just as honestly. “I wish it could be as easy as this with others. I wish I could just date you.”

A flush crept onto his neck, red skin showing on his chest where his top buttons were unbuttoned. “Why-” he hesitated before continuing, “Why can’t you?”

“Why can’t I what?” you asked back in oblivion, scooping another spoonful of gelato.

His fingers fidgeted with his spoon, his gaze nervously fixed on his empty cup as he spoke the next words: “Date me.”

Oh.

The longer you remained silent, the thicker the tension grew in the air. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any thoughts; hell, your mind was full of them. Your earlier theories flashed through your mind again, now getting the confirmation that all his attempts to be close to you meant more than solely friendship. How he had indeed tried telling you about his feelings all this time, and how you’d been blatantly oblivious. How you kept telling him about going on dates with other people while he was pining over you. There were too many thoughts to articulate, to even make sense of.

“Please say something,” his voice cracked in a soft beg, his eyes twinkling with hope, or maybe an emotion closer to desperation.

“I- I don’t know what to say.”

The spark in his eyes flickered out. Spencer mouthed okay while giving you an awkward, tight-lipped smile, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his pants.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he said to you, “Let me walk you home.”

-`♡´-

People always say fresh air is the answer to everything. Feeling sick as a dog? Go outside! Feeling depressed? Go outside! On the verge of a nervous breakdown? Go outside! Turns out whoever invented going on long walks had a point.

Your mind cleared with every step you took. Your initial anxieties around Spencer’s words fade around you in a blur. Slowly coming to peace with his feelings and your own.

Dating your best friend could work.

Spencer, on the opposite, felt more tense after each second that passed in silence. It wasn’t that he regretted being honest with you; the weight of his love for you was overwhelming. It was inevitable that there’d come a time where he’d spill his thoughts. However, he shouldn’t have done it like this, with you not even sober enough to understand the gravity of his words.

So, when you rounded the corner of the street and he spotted your house, which was all too familiar to him, he knew he had to retract his confession.

“I shouldn’t have said that earlier. I just… like you. A lot.” He rubbed his forearms, either in a nervous habit or because the cold was getting to him. “And I thought you felt the same, but I’m aware that it’s irrational because, well, you go on dates. And you go on dates with people you like and-“

“Spencer,” you interrupted, having to catch his eyes to get him to focus.

“I know it was inappropriate to confess that I’m in love with you when you’re not even sober. Alcohol interferes with the communication pathways of the brain, so this might be the worst moment possible to admit to something like this.”

“You’re in love with me?”

This caught Spencer’s attention. He focused on you with a puzzled look. “Well, technically I asked you why you wouldn’t want to date me, but I-”

The words died on his tongue the second your lips found his. It felt like you finally got the confirmation you’d always longed for. Someone that knew you inside out, who understood you, and who wasn’t afraid of showing you.

Spencer’s mind was spinning. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air before he settled them on your cheeks, holding you as if afraid you’d disappear.

It was only after a couple of seconds that his IQ regained from 60 to 187, using his hands to gently pull you back from his lips.

His lips remained slightly parted, pink and swollen from the kiss, and his eyes narrowed in overwhelming confusion. “What was that for?”

“That was to show you that I love you too.”

“You can’t just say something like that.”

“But I mean it, Spence,” you stated in confidence. “I was stupid for not seeing it before. For some reason, it felt like you and I were impossible. The thought never occurred to me that we could date. We’ve been friends for so long. But you’re the only one who actually cares, the only one who stays, and I see that now.”

His eyes watered at the creaking of your voice, but he blinked the upcoming tears away. He took a deep breath. Selfishly, he didn’t want to say the next words, satisfied living in the delusion that you loved him back, but he knew he had to stay objective.

“Alcohol consumption also heightens emotions.”

“I know what I’m feeling, Spencer,” you assured. “I’ve just… I’ve been afraid of you leaving me as well, of seeing me as not lovable enough, that I didn’t even consider it a possibility.”

You let out a small self-deprecating laugh, making his heart ache.

“Just give me another chance, please. I will not be so oblivious this time,” you spoke, the corner of your mouth slightly lifted.

His expression mirrored yours, and he gently grasped your hands, his thumbs running over them to bring you comfort. “Can you call me tomorrow?”

You looked up at him.

“If, uh, you still feel the same when you’re sober, we could talk about it.”

There was nothing you were more certain of at that moment. Still, you nodded.

-`♡´-

The buzzing of his phone on the nightstand was enough for Spencer to wake up with a pounding headache. His mind had worked overtime yesterday, rolling in bed in anxiety, waking up every fifteen minutes, and now he was experiencing the physical side effects of it.

“Hello?” he answered, pressing the device against his ear, too sleepy to have checked who called.

“Spencer?”

At the sound of your voice, he sat straight up in bed, his back leaning against the wooden headboard.

He cleared his throat. “H-hi, yes, it’s me.”

There was no pause on the other end of the line, your words determined. “I still love you.”

He leaned forward, pressing the phone closer to his ear, in an attempt to absorb your words.

“I’m really happy to hear that.” His fingertips skimmed along his jawline, in need of proof that he was awake, that this was actually happening. “I love you too. Still. Right now. Always, probably.”

You chuckled at his nervous rambling, hearing him breathlessly laugh in reply.

“Good. Because I don’t want to waste any more time second-guessing.”

“You shouldn’t worry. You won’t be able to get rid of me. I won’t leave you.”

He meant the words in a light, joking manner, but still your heart happily pounded at the sentence.

“Neither will I.”

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

You Swear A Lot | One Piece HC

For V Day, here's another little post! I haven't done an imagine/headcanon in a while, so this is a little blurb that's been in my drafts. Are you someone who swears a lot? Here's what these boys would think!

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kidd

CW: GN!reader, no specific relationship mentions, could be early relationship/pre-relationship

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

LUFFY

Doesn't seem to notice or care. 

Honestly, he's so used to Nami's mouth at this point that it hardly registers. Not to mention Ace and Sabo growing up. Luffy himself is very familiar with strong verbiage.

When the swear words are used for comedy, though, he won't stop laughing. He loves a well-placed swear word or crass comment.

If you're getting more creative, be prepared to explain what you just said to him. 

“Hey - what did you just say? ‘Never heard that word before.”

Great, now the crew has to deal with Luffy learning a new word. Thanks for that.

ZORO

Will call you out on it, make fun of you, and join in. 

Zoro’s got a colorful vocabulary himself, but really only uses it sparingly.

The first time he hears it from you, though - oh, boy, it’s shocking that something so crass comes out of such a pretty thing like you.

“Wow. You got a mouth on you, huh?” 

But then it begins. No bars, no restrictions. Zoro’s gonna challenge you every step of the way, coming up with rude and worse things to say.

It’s a competition now. And Zoro never loses.

SANJI

Sanji’s no stranger to cursing. He’s a cook, after all - he has his own crass vocabulary to contend with.

Hearing it from you though? Someone so beautiful, seemingly innocent? 

Just like the rest of the crew, he’s heard just the same from Nami, but even still…

He blushes. Completely floored. 

“You're too pretty to be speaking like that, angel!”

He secretly likes it. In fact, he likes it so much that he has to control the places his mind goes when he hears you.

Whether you’re cursing out of anger, frustration, or just using it as an adjective, he always takes notice. 

LAW

Law is pretty crass himself, but even he has his limits.

The first few times he hears it, he doesn’t seem to comment or care. He lets it slide because it just doesn’t seem worth it. He may even find it funny or endearing, though he'd never let you know that.

Even if, in certain circumstances, he may feel that it’s needless.

Finally, after one particular day where you’ve had enough of his stern looks and you bust out your dictionary, he’s had enough.

“That mouth is going to get you into trouble one of these days.” 

That being said, if anyone else were to say that to you, he’d defend you with just as much of a crass mouth. He’s very familiar of the trouble a mouth like that will get you into, and a part of him secretly wishes to see it.

KIDD

This man is so much worse than you, so he finds it funny. 

“Finally - someone who can keep up with me!”

You guys feed off of each other. It’s not just a competition - it’s a goddamn talent show.

The rest of the crew on the Victoria Punk ranges from being humored, shocked, to annoyed.

It may be one of your most attractive qualities to him, quite honestly.

[im-some-lionheart]

He loves being able to hate on Drake publicly so much <3 he's such a happy hater. To quote the great Josh Johnson:

Kendrick said, “All I do is hang out with my wife and my kids and I write, Drake. This is all that I do. I enjoy this. This is my favorite thing to do: just sit at home and hate you and write songs about how much I hate you. So I can go forever. This will never be over. We can go back and forth and I'll release 20 [songs] for each one that you release, every single day until the both of us die.”

This is old black man hate. You gotta understand, this doesn't happen with people under sixty almost ever. This is old, old, old, we-knew-each-other-during-the-civil-rights-movement hate that [Kendrick] brought to this battle. And Drake was like, “guys, I thought we were rhyming.”

the cheers as soon as not like us starts playing 😭😭 that tweet that said "whenever you're having a bad day remember drake is having it worse" will never age

[elodieunderglass]

I hope your evening is better than your day was. ✨💫

In reference to me haggardly saying in the tags that after the day I’d had, everything (horrible things with legs) that my loved ones (you guys) were doing to heal me (send me horrible things with legs) was a help. And it was. And you are.

It was a tough old month already. But it’s all swings-and-roundabouts, snakes-and-ladders, win-some-lose-some, 🫴🫳.

I sleep about 9 hours in 48 at the moment, which is not especially great, owing to the Wretchedness of Mouse (2), a largely nocturnal animal. But then when Mouse is awake at Mouse o’Clock and quietly pottering around on Mouse Business, there isn’t much I can usefully do, so I’m just curled up with Dr Glass’s tablet, peacefully drawing Killie the jockey OC. As a result I’ve realised something massive for me, that my creativity is THERE, but fuelled by self-indulgence! Like, with stuff like fanfic projects and Killie, there was always a lot of “mental braking” on before, with me anticipating (based on evidence experience of posting my writing online for mumblety-many years) how much people would dislike it - put the brakes on, Elodie, we can’t let the haters know that we yearn. But hey, I started rambling on about fics and my own OCs, and YES it’s probably startling and annoying for some people and I do apologise, but ALSO you’ve all been very kind, and I think that it’s better for me to have the brakes off. 4 am takes notwithstanding, it’s better to have the brakes off. So what if I’m cringe and occasionally annoying - I have paid my dues and done my duties.

The new shed at the allotment blew down, but we have been forgiven for our carelessness in allowing it to happen, and two people on the committee have approached me with kindness - one committee member even stopping me in a shop to tell me, “people want to help you, Elodie, we’re your friends, you know.” Citation needed, but there you go.

Saturdays are always made especially for me dreadful by taking children to swimming lessons, on foot both ways, but usually we walk on to meet friends for coffee after. I go out with my friends and play board games with our neighbours and have learned how to play Wingspan.

Dr Glass received an official diagnosis of ME, but I bought a robot vacuum in the strength of that - saying, well, why assume things will ever get easier? Let’s get easy now! - and actually I really like having a robot vacuum!!

There have been more causes than I could help with, but my promotion has strengthened the coffers, so this month I’ve been able to donate to a few!

Due to childcare falling through, I had to take all three kids to an antifash protest in the cold and was dreading it - the walking, the whining, is it going to be awkward, i trust the organisers but HE’S not bringing his kids, GOD. But then my neighbour and her giant puppy came with us! on purpose! And we knew a lot of people there and the kids played.

I had to buy some clothes for work, and I never buy anything new (never having money) and was scared I’d get it wrong (stupid and weird) but I buckled up and bought these: https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/rosamoth-button-up-midi-skirt https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/swamplife-frog-embroidered-linen-blend-high-waist-midaxi-skirt

And it sounds bonkers, but the amount of people at work, etc, who have come up and instantly allied themselves with me on the strength of Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt has strengthened my convictions. Strongly recommend Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt and their emotional equivalents if you hit a stage of career where you need to suddenly level up.

I am thinking about counterweights. And kindness. And the balance of the turning world. And the light in the sky coming back. And, unfortunately, Killie, but he’s a counterweight too; sure, he’s awful, but we already know he contains the seeds of becoming okay.

As evidence suggests that many things do.

Thank you for your shining kindness, and my love back to you 💫

[revelboo]

I was wondering if you would ever write for a bayverse mech? If so, could we maybe please get a bayverse Mirage fic? I love how goofy and unserious he is

Sure! He’s on my list, anyway

Valentine’s Oneshot-Mirage

ROtB Mirage x Reader

• “Oh, sweetspark. Baby, look at you,” he says, transforming and standing as you come down the stairs into the garage. Because this? He’s never seen you dressed up like this, that midnight blue material shimmering with your movements. “That for me?” Please, let it be for him. Maybe you’re finally coming around, because he’s been flirting. Trying to get your attention and you just laugh. Think he’s joking.

• “No, it’s not for you. That new guy at work asked me out.” And his grin falters, servos flexing and then tapping against his thigh. Why does he look like a kicked puppy all of a sudden? Uncertain, you toy with your hem. He flirts all the time, but that’s just him. Shameless teasing his style. It’s not like he was serious. Right?

• Primus, why does that hurt so much? The idea of you smiling for someone else. Would you let that guy hold your hand? Kiss you? Do more? How well do you know this person? Not better than you know him, so why? “You like this guy?” Wants to ask you to change. Maybe those baggy jeans you like and an oversized t-shirt. Something that doesn’t scream frag me. “I mean, of course you do. Never mind.” Running a hand over his helm, he paces. Just say it. Say anything to keep you from going out that door dressed like that to meet someone else. Just ripping his spark out with those soft hands.

• “He’s nice,” you say, watching him pace. And you’ve never seen him so agitated before. Wait, is he jealous? Hear his muttered ‘of course, he is.’ And he is jealous. Freezing as all of his shameless flirting shifts. All those little compliments, the way he’s constantly reaching to touch you, run a servo through your hair, against your back or arm. Biting your bottom lip you watch him press his servos against his helm venting loudly. “But, there is this other guy. He’s great.” Your best friend.

• There’s even more competition? Rocking to a stop, he stares down at you. “Yeah? You like him, too?” Doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to know. But can’t stop himself. You can love whoever you want, he’s still going to watch over you. Protect you even as it kills him inside. “Guess he makes you happy?”

• Heart racing, you fist your hem. If you’re wrong about this he’s probably going to laugh at you. “He’s my best friend. I mean he’s always cutting up, flirting, so I didn’t realize he was serious.” Shoulders lifting in a shrug, he stares at you, his hand slowly falling. Not saying anything. “He always has my back and I just, I’m sorry I didn’t realize, but I like him, too.”

• Him. Primus, you’re talking about him. Finally seeing him. “Yeah? Babe, this guy, he’d wait for you. Wait forever if he needed to. Because you’re worth it.” Going to his knees when you take an uncertain step his way and lay a little hand in his much bigger palm when he offers it. Trusting yourself to him. Other hand cupping you, he’s afraid to move as you reach up an arm and he slowly bends to let you curl it around his neck. Hugging him. “This guy loves you.”

[trashytracktales]

For VDay requests: Lando takes her to a nice dinner and she gets mad at him idk maybe he does something without realizing. And then they come back home and shes still pissed but he looks so good after he changes in his comfy clothes so they end up fucking on the couch or something but that's when she tells him why was she mad at him ❤🥀

Happy Valentine's Day guys xx

Torn on Valentine | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for this request, I actually had so much fun with it. Enjoy your reading and happy Valentine’s, my lovelies!!

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🩷summary ──── Lando notices immediately that his girlfriend is angry with him. However, he has no idea why. But whatever the reason might be, he is determined to remind her exactly why she can't stay mad for long. It's Valentine’s Day, after all.

🩷pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🩷rating ──── explicit

🩷category ──── F/M

🩷warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, teasing, jealous!reader, mild dominance, begging, unprotected sex, slight angst-to-smut.

🩷word count ──── 4.4k (4.444 to be exact hehe)

🩷date ──── Feb. 14, 2025

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

VALENTINE’S DAY IS ruined.

Lando had gone all out to make sure that won’t happen, starting the morning by waking her up with muffins in bed, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the sheets as he pressed lazy little kisses to her neck.

They spent the day walking around the city, and shopping, wandering through little boutiques where he insisted on buying her anything and everything she had laid her eyes on.

And then, la pièce de résistance: a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A soft melody played from a piano in the corner, setting the perfect atmosphere. The food was great, the wine was good, and every detail screamed romance, from the flickering candle between them to the way Lando’s thumb traced tiny heart shapes on her hand as they talked, his eyes never leaving hers.

All in all, it had been perfect. Until he ruined it.

The moment was burned into her mind, replaying it over and over again, like a broken record. The waiter, a girl who had been a little too friendly with him all night, had leaned in when she refilled his wine at some point, brushing his shoulder with a touch that lingered for too long. And Lando, oblivious as ever, had winked at her.

Winked.

She knew her boyfriend. Knew he was clueless about these things, that his flirty nature wasn’t always intentional. But that didn’t make it sting any less. Because the waiter had noticed. She smirked at him, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and acted like his girlfriend wasn’t literally sitting on the other side of the table.

After that, she had gone silent.

The entire ride home, she stared out the window, with her arms crossed and lips pursed, and her knees facing the opposite way from him. Lando figured something was wrong ever since; he glanced at her between shifts, brows furrowing, but he didn’t say anything, probably thinking she was just tired.

Then they got home, and she had barely looked at him as she changed into something more comfortable, still replaying the scene in her head.

Had he done it on purpose? Probably not. But did it matter?

That’s… debatable. It mattered to her.

Deprived by every emotion except irritation, she followed Lando setting up his last surprise of the day — a cozy movie marathon on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets, sweets and drinks, and a bunch of her favorite Valentine’s-themed movies ready to run.

Now, their apartment is quiet except for the hum of the TV that neither of them is really watching. The tension between them is thick, lingering in the air like a storm that hasn’t broken. Yet.

She breathes heavily, sitting curled up on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and arms crossed over her chest. Lando, on the other side, is content to let her be.

Until he isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we playing the guessing game again?” he finally asks, voice edged with concern. He knows that she needs time to process whatever’s bothering her at the moment, but his patience has limits, too.

She doesn’t look at him, just shrugs as she lies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Lando puffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’ve been side-eyeing me like I insulted your entire family ever since we got back. It’s annoying, you know? If you have something to say…” his voice trails off, but he feels a wave of anger building inside, so he decides to let go before making it worse.

Her jaw tightens.

She doesn’t want to give in, mostly because she knows that the reason why she’s mad is, well, kind of absurd. But at the same time, she’s frustrated in a way that isn’t just about her boyfriend winking at other girls. The weight of the week has been pressing down on her shoulders, and she needs something — him — but she’s too stubborn to say it. Especially now. Still, her eyes keep flickering down, lingering on the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the lazy way he’s sprawled out, legs spread wide.

He catches her looking, fighting a smile as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. “You wanna sit on it?”

Her head snaps toward him, face heating instantly at his question. “What?”

Lando shrugs, “You keep looking,” he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending you don’t want to.”

She scoffs, but can’t deny it. She does want to. Desperately. But she’s mad at him. So, she says nothing. Just presses her lips together, turning her attention back to the screen like she isn’t thinking about climbing onto his lap and letting him pull her apart, little by little.

On the TV, the main characters are making out, sending her mind spinning relentlessly, fueling her sudden desire. Apparently, that’s enough for her to decide that she has to put an end to it, finally taking Lando’s advice and speak her mind. But he’s faster. His hands are reaching out for her, almost like they appeared out of nowhere, gripping her waist, effortlessly pulling her onto his lap.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips, but she doesn’t fight him, and doesn’t push him away. If anything, she melts just a little, legs instinctively settling on either side of his hips.

He looks up at her, fingers squeezing at her waist. “That’s better, hm?”

She glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Lando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he counters, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs, thumbs brushing tiny, teasing circles on her skin. “And you’re not exactly running away.”

She hates how smug he is. Hates how easily he sees through her act. Hates how good he looks right now.

But then his hands slide further up, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her ass, pressing her down against him just enough for her to feel him through the fabric of his sweats. And the feeling is… intense to say the least, since she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and her pajama shorts.

Lando watches her closely, aware of the effect he has on her. “Gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to make you forget?”

She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But when he shifts beneath her, dragging her forward so deliciously slow, her resolve crumbles.

Her hands grip his shoulders, nails pressing in. “Shut up.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes, exasperated by his attitude, “Shut up and do something.”

Lando grins at her bluntness, fingers tightening on her hips as he rolls her against him again. “Ask nicely.”

She huffs annoyed, but so needy it aches. “Lando,” she warns in a low voice.

Lando shakes his head. “No, baby. You know how this works,” he reminds her, lips brushing against her neck as his hands keep guide her movements. “Use your words.”

She breathes lightly, head tipping back as the friction sends heat pooling low in her belly. “Please?”

“See, that’s a good start,” he chuckles, nipping at her jaw and dragging his tongue over the sting, “But I know you can do better.”

Her pride wars with her desperation, but it’s a losing battle. She needs more than that, and she knows he won’t give it to her until she breaks.

Next time she speaks, her voice is a whisper, breathy yet sweet, “I need you, please.”

He smirks as he watches her through his eyelashes, happy with the state he managed to put her in so easily. “There goes my girl.”

Lando can see the shift in her the second he finishes his sentence. It’s in the way frustration morphs into impatience, and how her breath hitches every time he grinds her against him but doesn’t give her what she really wants.

“I know you’re enjoying this, but there’s no reason for you to take your sweet ass time, you know that,” she mutters, her voice edged with irritation.

Lando shrugs. “And you know I like watching you squirm.”

She rolls her eyes, but her body betrays her — again and again. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, while her thighs tense around his waist. With a sharp exhale, she moves on her own now, hands sliding down between them, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. Lando follows her movements, amused, but doesn’t stop her as she pulls them down just enough to free him.

Her breath catches at the sight: he’s already hard, the head flushed deep red, leaking just slightly.

She glances back at him, brows raised, but Lando shrugs again, as if the reason is obvious. “You on my lap, begging? Kinda hard not to get… you know, hard.”

Her stomach clenches at his nonchalance, the way he acts like it’s inevitable. Like, of course he’d be this ready for her. Duh.

Lando exhales excited as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking just enough to make his hips twitch beneath her. His breath gets slightly unsteady after that, but his control remains.

“Getting bold now?” he asks, eyes locked on her as he pushes her shirt up just a little, tracing his fingers along the warm skin of her waist.

The girl doesn’t answer, just bites her lip as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down and letting them catch on the curve of her thighs before she kicks them away. That’s when the teasing glint in Lando’s eyes fades, replaced with something darker. He swallows hard, hands settling firm on her hips as he drinks her in.

“So soft,” he mumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

She feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being half-naked. It’s like he’s seeing everything, because he knows her so deeply. Like he’s about to ruin her in the best way possible.

And she’s going to let him.

Lando wraps his hand around hers and, together, they pump his cock slowly, his gaze always on her, watching the way her body responds to the sight of it. Then he runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there while he moves purposely, dragging the length of himself through her folds, groaning at how slick and warm she is.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to hers for a second, while she needs to hold on to him with both hands now. “You’re dripping.”

She whimpers as he does it again, sliding against her, teasing her clit with the thick head before pulling back, drawing out her frustration.

“Lando, don’t…” she whines, shifting against his chest, trying to get more of him.

Lando laughs, low and raspy, but his grip on her isn’t loosening one bit. “Patience, baby.”

“I need—”

“Yeah?” he cuts her off, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance this time, barely pushing in before pulling back out. “What? This what you need?”

Her stomach flips at the feeling, so raw, unable to spit out any words. Instead, she only manages to nod.

To show her that he appreciates her honesty, Lando guides her hips, dragging her along his length, pressing his swollen tip against her clit once more and holding her there. Without moving. She gasps, her whole body shuddering as the pressure sends sparks through her nerves.

Lando groans, feeling how she pulses against him, how her body aches for more. “Well, shit. That’s pretty,” he admits, watching her fall apart in his hands.

She lets a little cry out in protest, trying to push down, but he keeps her there, right on the edge of everything, everything.

“You gonna beg for it again?” he asks in a teasing voice.

She wants to fight him on it, but she can’t. Not when she’s this close to him, when every second of waiting feels like pure, unfiltered torture.

She shakes her head, her little cry turning into a throaty moan.

Lando gets ecstatic at the sound and the way her body shivers — so desperate, so utterly wrecked for him before he’s even inside her. For a split second, he considers giving in completely. But then he remembers she’s mad at him. Or at least, she was. And if she thinks she can get away with that attitude without consequence, she needs to understand that she’s sorely mistaken.

Instead of giving her what she wants, Lando kisses her. Hard. His lips crash into hers, swallowing the whimper of frustration that slips from her throat. He starts guiding her against him, harder now, making her ride the thick length of his cock without ever letting her sink onto it, the friction sweet but never enough. She tries to pull back, gasping against his mouth, but he doesn’t let her. One hand tangles in her hair, holding her close, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

Until her patience snaps and, with a sharp gasp, she bites his lip, just hard enough to make him hiss, her nails digging into his scalp as she pulls at his curls. Lando moans, a low, needy sound that strikes her like lightning. The sting, the fight, the way she’s clawing for a type of control she won’t get — not yet — motivates him to keep teasing her.

Annoyed, she lets her hand slip between them, fingers wrapping around his cock, slick and throbbing, before she finally sinks down onto him. Because, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to take matters into your own hands.

At that, both of them go silent.

Her body tightens around him instantly, the fullness of him stealing her breath, making her walls flutter as she adjusts to his length.

Lando’s forehead presses against hers, his lips parting with a violent inhale, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes, voice wrecked, “What buttons did I push?”

She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Neither does he.

They just sit like that, their bodies locked together so perfectly it almost feels cruel to even blink. The fight, the frustration, the teasing… it all fades away in one moment, replaced by something more intense. Something profund.

When she shifts just slightly, Lando whines, feeling the way she clenches around him, and how perfectly they fit together. The thought makes him throb inside her, the heat of her making his pulse race.

She presses her forehead harder against his, her breath shaky. “Baby,” she whispers, “Shit, you feel so good.”

Lando opens his eyes, finding hers already on him.

For a second, he’s happy to simply look at her. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are swollen from his kisses, the way she’s barely holding herself together — everything about her is perfection. Then, he lifts her up, and the sudden rush of cool air against his cock makes him moan.

She shrieks at the emptiness, at the way her body aches to take him back. “Please, not now,” she pleads.

Before she can continue, he shoves himself back in, agonizingly slow, making her feel every inch of him as he stretches her again. As a result, her head falls forward, a desperate whimper breaking from her throat.

Lando keeps his eyes on her, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “Already falling apart, love? I’ve barely even started.”

She whines, arms wrapping around his neck, hips twitching like she wants more. Much more.

“This what you needed, yes?” Lando taunts, rolling his hips just enough to make her lose her mind. “You gonna stop being a brat now?”

She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Lando smiles, dragging himself out just to push back in, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Keep those pretty eyes open,” he instructs, nipping at her jaw, “Come on. I wanna watch you break for me.”

Because he is absolutely evil, Lando keeps it slow. Too slow.

Every roll of his hips is calculated, dragging himself out so she feel his cock slipping away, then pushing back in deep, filling her up so completely it makes her walls pulsate. She can’t do anything but take it, her senses overwhelmed by him — by the rough drag of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips, the filthy sound of their bodies meeting.

Then his hands move, sliding up from her waist, fingers tracing over her ribs before finally cupping her breasts. It makes her gasp, her back arching into his touch as his thumbs sweep over her nipples, teasing a little, then rolling them between his fingers.

“So sensitive, look at that,” says Lando, his voice thick with lust. “Are you shaking, baby?”

She is. Her thighs tremble where they straddle him, her whole body squeezing him with every slow thrust, every lazy swipe of his thumbs against her skin.

His gaze drops between them, and his breath stutters at the image. “Beautiful.”

She doesn’t understand at first, too lost in how slowly he fucks her, but then he guides her chin down, forcing her to look.

And oh, fuck.

She can see everything: the way her body stretches to take him in, the way she’s dripping down his entire length, making a mess on his lap, and the way her thighs are trembling on each side of him.

Lando’s heart starts beating faster, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “See how you’re fucking ruining me?”

She lets out a soft, broken moan, fingers playing absentmindedly with the curls at the back of his head, mostly to anchor herself in the moment.

“Lan…”

“I know, love,” his tongue flicks against her pulse point before he kisses her jaw. “Not so mad at me now, are you?”

Right now? No. She realizes she’s not. She can’t be. Not when he’s touching her like this, fucking into her with such lazy, devastating precision. Not when he’s whispering filth into her ear while looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Her hands move, framing his face, tilting it up so she can kiss him again. But this time, their kiss is different. It’s not angry, not desperate, but tender and loving. A kiss that makes Lando’s grip falter, that steals the breath from his lungs and sends him to a new world that’s only inhabited by them.

She whimpers hungrily against his lips, and that’s what breaks him, because he knows he broke her first.

A guttural moan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into her thighs. And then he snaps. “Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispers next to her ear, thrusting into her harder. It takes her by surprise, the way he is holding her so tight like he’s trying to fuse them together. “Need you,” he adds.

The sudden change in pace fractures something in her brain to the point she can’t remember anything else except his name.

“It’s okay you’re mad,” Lando assures her. “You can be as mad as you want, yeah? All day, everyday,” he groans, voice wrecked. “I’m still gonna fuck you like this. Gonna give you exactly what you need. Whenever you need me, love.”

Her head falls back, a loud moan spilling from her lips as he loses himself in her, in the heat, the mess, and the way she clings to him.

“Always gonna take care of my girl,” he promises, sealing the words against her skin. “No matter what.”

She can feel his control slipping in the way his thrusts deepen, the rhythm faltering slightly as his breath becomes gradually uneven. He’s still trying to hold back, but she can tell he’s far from behaving. She feels his cock twitching so deliciously inside her, and the way his hands melt with her skin almost painfully on her hips. Every new sensation makes her dizzy, until it’s too much. The pressure building in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of him inside her, the way his hands start roaming over her skin, and his mouth leaving hot trails across her neck — all too much.

With a shaky breath, she collapses forward, her body unable to keep steady, falling against his chest as her hands slide weakly to his sides.

“I can’t,” she gasps, “Can’t hold myself up.”

Lando’s hands move immediately, his hold firm on her back, and voice filled with a deep urgency, “I got you, baby. You know I do.”

And then he flips them, his strength not-so-surprising as he rolls them onto the couch, her body now on her back with him above her. The new angle makes them both moan in unison, the sudden shift in depth making every movement feel sharper, more intense.

Lando’s hands find her thighs, pulling them apart so he can press deeper, pushing into her with a delicious force that makes her stomach tighten and her toes curl. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room — wet, sticky, perfect. Her hands reach up, gripping the back of the couch, her nails scratching at the fabric, trying to keep herself grounded as he fucks her harder.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando groans, his face flushed with sweat, his lips parted as he stares down at her, eyes wild with need. “You’re so fucking perfect, can’t get enough of you.”

She can feel him getting closer, the way his movements grow sloppier, more desperate, but there’s no slowing him down. He’s all in — in her, in the moment, and she can barely breathe under the weight of it all.

The sounds of their passion are unrestrained, loud, their breath ragged and frantic. It’s all they hear now: her moans, his grunts, the soft squeak of the couch beneath them. But as the tension starts to crack, she feels herself spiraling as closer to the edge as he is, and she finally feels the last remnants of her jealousy fade away.

She looks up at him, her vision blurry from the pleasure. “You… winked at the waiter.”

Lando freezes for just a moment, his thrusts shallow, and he looks down at her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he forces himself to regain control. “I did?” he breathes out wildly, his lips twitching with a laugh that’s barely contained.

She moans, biting her lip as she writhes under him, “Yes, when she came back with the wine,” she admits, her voice soft, barely a whisper. “It was so stupid, I wanted to throw it in your face.”

Lando finally laughs, a genuine chuckle, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her lips before pulling back. “Wanted to be mad, but you’re too busy getting fucked to even care now, hm?”

She wants to argue, wants to tell him he’s being a cocky bastard, but the words get lost in the sound of her own moans as his rhythm picks up again, faster this time, his cock hitting places inside her that have her seeing stars.

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice full of the tension and the blinding pressure building in her chest, “I’m so... Fuck. I’m close.”

Lando doesn’t ease off. “I know, baby. I feel it.” He pushes her closer, his hands gripping her legs just right, his thrusts brutal and relentless. “Wanna come for me?”

She doesn’t have enough time to process his words. The wave hits her hard, crashing over her like an unstoppable force, and her body goes taut, every nerve lighting up as she cries out, her back arching off the couch as she cums around him.

And Lando isn’t far behind.

He slams into her once more, and then his head falls on her chest with a groan as he releases, the hot pulse of his cum filling her up just as her own orgasm shakes through her. Breathless, they stay like that, bodies joined, both of them tangled in the aftershocks of their release.

“Next time, don’t wink at other girls if you want to keep your eyes,” she finally says, feeling him softening inside her.

“Next time,” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath, “Don’t go non-verbal on me. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. “You never mean it like that, do you?”

The air between them thickens, leaving behind an almost palpable silence. Affected by her last affirmation, Lando’s hands find home on her skin, the touch light, slightly hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the fragile calm that’s settled between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She traces her fingers through his curls, her body feeling like a flame now, flickering gently after being ignited. There’s a warmth spreading from her chest, outwards, a comfort that soothes the storm inside her. But still, her heart races, and the lingering heat from their connection seems to hum through her veins.

Lando shifts, moving to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her. She nestles into him, feeling the heat of his skin and the sweat against hers, the warmth of him grounding her.

“You okay?” she hears him again.

“Yeah... just needed a moment to catch my breath,” her voice is a soft murmur in his ears.

Lando smiles weakly, his lips curling with that familiar grin. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, fingers skimming her cheek like a whisper, and the gesture is enough to make her chest tighten.

“You’re everything I need, silly. Always.”

She knows that. And luckily, the storm inside her has subsided. “I’m sorry, too. For being stubborn,” she whispers, her voice full of a quiet vulnerability.

Lando chuckles, “Stubborn is an understatement.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Don’t push it.”

His hands, once firm and assertive, now trace delicate patterns over her skin, mapping every curve, every inch of her as though trying to imprint her into his soul. There is no need for words now, not anymore.

As Lando presses another soft kiss to her lips, she remembers why they will always be able to overcome any childish misunderstanding.

“I love you,” she says, her voice steady.

He smiles, feeling a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. And, instead of saying it back, Lando tilts his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a teasing smirk.

Then, he winks at her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[beatlblog]

#is it insanity#or is it the TRUTH (via @loveistoshare)

#iceberg model of mental illness (via @suemesueyou)

#imagine being op and making this iceberg from memory (via @frodolives)

wait you're not op?

#my entry to fandom is more like get back to 8 days apart which opened up a 100 foot drop in the earth (via @get-back-homeward)

#i bring up Paris a minimum of twice a month#I’m like#oh yeah totally normal to take your best mate on a trip to Paris INSTEAD OF YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND (via @prettyboyrose1974)

#i swear india is the greatest mystery of the beatles fandom (via @maccaroni-and-cheese)

truly the budapest of mclennon

#this is so much#i dont trust a single word that comes out of phillip norman's mouth. but aside from that excellent work. no notes (via @hippiebeatles)

dem roi tha e#mclennon (via @nuynkume)

#me gustan estos icebergs (via @akamy08wt)

#someone record this to the tune of we didn't start the fire#ALL MY LOVING NOW AND THEN/CAN YOU TAKE ME BACK AGAIN?? (via @scurator)

via (@ohwellokcomputer)

#team nothing happened in india but something happened in new york immediately after india#at some point between landing and the first interview they did on that trip (via @spinnach)

#thank you for doing my work for me this is fantastic#you’re right this could go deeper i made this like 2 yrs ago and even just in this time so much new stuff has come out lol#if anybody wants to expand feel free!#once again great work paulmccartneygrindr… my one critique is that there is another even more deranged howard stern interview out there (via @frodolives)

#this is beautiful I need to print this out into a little book to carry around like mormons (via @asurrogateblog)

#bro this is the most wonderful thing ever#I adore op more than my non-existent children (via @highlyincorrect)

#thank you for your service 🫡#this is such a fun read#seeeing everything together makes me crazy#the boys really did have something going on (via @beatsfornone)

#reading all these at work like Cody Ko voice Damm makes you think... makes u think..#the beatles#i guess man... (via @sidneylumet)

#YOU ARE AN ANGEL OMGGGGG#the beatles#mclennon#son las 2 am y voy a leer lo que pueda y luego a mimir#im very normal about this (via @cuatrocientos-trece)

#not to critique these as a non truther#but as a son of a casual mclennon truther the yoko revealing bisexuality thing is like number 1 on the iceberg i feel#like most people above a certain age know that#i know that and i wouldn't really consider myself a big beatle guy#idk abt the rest tho carry on (via @chirpychipslive)

#it's more of an ice metropolis really#the average man was never meant to have this much lore (via @wreathedwith)

the tiers of insanity

[kazutora-kurokawa]

BLLK NSFW Boyfriend Headcanons

♡ NSFW, fem reader, oral->fem and male receiving, soft sex, rough sex, hair pulling, biting, cum eating, creampie, fingering, overstimulation ♡

Characters: Rin, Sae, Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Gagamaru, Nagi, Reo, Barou, Shidou

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

⚽ Rin is a total mean!dom during sex and loves getting rough with you, his favorite part is when you're crying but begging him to go harder

⚽ Sae is a mean!dom as well, but he's great at aftercare and prioritizing your needs, which often ends up with him fingering you until you're sobbing for him to slow down but he can't help it because you look so cute when you're overstimulated

⚽ Gagamaru hates to admit it, but he almost nut in his pants once when you playfully tugged his hair (you weren't even having sex, he's just down horrendous)

⚽ Reo is amazing at giving head (you've seen his tongue so you know), he can spend hours between your legs just lapping at your sloppy cunt

⚽ Bachira loves when you give him head, one because you're good at it, and two because he gets to return the favor; he also likes 69-ing

⚽ Everyone knows that Shidou is an absolute freak in and out of the bedroom, he loves watching you swallow his cum and is obsessed with eating his cum out of your pussy after creampieing you

⚽ Isagi is probably the most vanilla guy in bed, but he makes up for it by giving you the deepest strokes possible, you swear you can feel this man in your guts with every thrust he takes

⚽ Chigiri looks soft but he often gets a little aggressive in bed, especially if he's feeling particularly clingy; he'll usually bite on your neck, shoulders, and thighs to mark you up and make sure people know you're his

⚽ Barou knows how much you love his muscles, so he satisfies your obsession by putting you in headlocks during sex until he feels you cream all over his cock

⚽ Nagi is super flexible and always tries to get you to agree to weird positions during sex, he also enjoys lazy morning sex with you because even if he's exhausted he can make time to fill you to the brim

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

[candycandy00]

General NSFW Headcanons for One Piece Men

These are just some general sex/intimacy based Headcanons for some of my favorite OP men. I left out Law and Kid until I see more of them post time skip.

Keep in mind these are just my personal opinions! These are all assuming a Fem Reader. Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Luffy: 

I’ve noticed while rewatching/ catching up that this guy is a hugger. He’s not shy at all about giving out affection to people he cares about, and I think that would carry over to more intimate moments. He’d definitely be the type to snuggle up to you during sex, wanting to be as physically close as possible. He might even wrap his arms around you multiple times, not in a restraining way but in a “I just want to completely wrap myself around you” way. 

Some people seem to think Luffy would be completely clueless about sex, but I disagree. I think it’s very likely that Ace explained a few things to him. They were at perfect ages (17 and 14) before Ace set out for a big brother to tell his younger brother about stuff like that. Even if Ace had no actual experience himself, he had to have heard a lot of talk from the bandits. So I think Luffy is aware of the basics at least, and his instincts would cover for whatever knowledge he lacks. He’s surprisingly perceptive at times.

Zoro:

Zoro is the one who would be clueless. Not about the mechanics of sex, but about what you want. This man would miss every signal you send his way, so you’d have to literally state outright that you want to have sex with him. During the act, you’d have to be very clear about what you want him to do, at least the first few times. You’re better off just taking his hands or head and putting them where you want because this guy can’t follow directions to save his life. 

Once the two of you have had sex a few times and he’s learned what you like, he would be a great lover. Zoro puts his all into everything he does, and that includes pleasing his darling. One of his best points is his stamina. He could go for multiple rounds without breaking a sweat, so prepare for long nights.

Sanji:

He’s all about his darling’s pleasure. He’d get much more satisfaction from watching you cum than from cumming himself. He would have a massive praise kink, both giving and receiving. He’d also be clingy and want to be intimate in some way with you nearly all the time (though he’d be happy with just cuddling, giving massages, etc. if you’re too tired for sex sometimes). He’d definitely prioritize your needs and wants over his own, mostly because making you happy is what he needs and wants. 

I think he’s definitely a virgin, and he’s the type who will fall madly in love with the first woman who sleeps with him. Once he’s in love and in a committed relationship, he’s not going to be chasing other women. He’ll still notice a beautiful lady, but he won’t comment on them or visibly react, because he doesn’t want to upset his darling or make her feel insecure.

Usopp: 

This guy right here? He’s the one to keep your eye on. Because once he actually gets some experience, he’ll be one of the best lovers in the series. The first time he’s gonna be nervous and awkward, probably boasting that he’s had a thousand lovers whom he satisfied completely (while nearly fainting from nerves). But once he gets over those initial nerves, he’s gonna lock in on learning all the best techniques. When Usopp gets serious about something, he studies and practices until he’s great at it. 

I also have a headcanon that he’s got a huge dick (I mean, look at that nose) and just doesn’t know how to use it yet. Emphasis on yet. Give him some time and he’ll rock your world.

Franky:

The best thing about Franky as a lover is that he’s completely nonjudgmental. Have a wild kink you wanna try? He’s shrugging and saying sure, let’s go for it. Insecure about a part of your body? He’s showing you some crazy modification he’s made to his own just to prove all bodies are unique and wonderful. You’re never gonna feel shamed over anything with Franky, and that’s so freeing. The next best thing is that this guy will come equipped with all sorts of toys and gadgets to spice up the sex. If he doesn’t have what you want, he can just construct it on the fly. 

It’s hard for me to decide whether I think he’s had a lot of experience or not. I’m guessing he’s had some given his age, background, and being a self professed pervert. He seems like he would be a sex positive person, or maybe just see it as no big deal. Just another way to express affection. I think he’s pretty chill about sex, basically.

Brook:

Okay, so Brook is pretty limited by the fact that he’s a skeleton and has no dick or tongue to work with. But he does have those long pianist’s fingers, and he’d certainly be happy to use them to please his darling. As we all know, he also has a panty fetish, so the easiest way to get him riled up would be to model the cute new sets you bought. He’s still a gentleman though, so he treats his darling with care and respect, always asking for permission before touching you and making you feel valued. 

He probably had a decent amount of experience when he was alive, but he’s very new to being intimate as a skeleton. There would be some trial and error and he might get a little depressed about his limitations, but I think he’d get over it fairly quickly and just be happy to have someone special in his, uh, life.

Ace: 

In my opinion, Ace would be very warm and loving in bed. Very passionate. Like his brother, he’d be very affectionate with his darling. This is a man who places a ton of value on bonds, on loving and being loved. He’s definitely going to show how much he loves you, in the most intimate way possible. Think lots of eye contact, physical closeness, slow and very deep fucking. I don’t think he’d be the super romantic type to leave a trail of rose petals to the bed or whatever, but once the two of you are in bed he’s giving you his undivided attention and just enjoying the feeling of being inside you. Also kinda think he’d have a bit of a breeding kink. 

I think it’s highly likely he’s had some experience. He’s a handsome, likable guy who traveled around a lot by himself. Judging by how he blushed around Makino, it’s a safe bet he likes ladies. Specifically, pretty ladies who show him kindness. I don’t think he’d be shy or awkward but I can’t really see him acting like some arrogant sex god either.

Shanks:

Get ready for some sloppy drunken sex. I’m talking making out as you both make your way to the bed, tripping on stuff along the way and giggling like teenagers. You might not remember everything that happened, but you know it was fun! I somehow can’t picture Shanks settling down in a committed relationship but he would agree to being exclusive with you. So you guys wouldn’t be a couple but anytime he’s drunk and horny you’re the one he goes to. And if you’re in his crew, you’re probably half drunk yourself. But you guys have an agreement, so consent was already given. Shanks would give you a great time and be charming and funny, but he’s gone by the time you wake up. 

He’s definitely had an active sex life. He’s too charming not to. Too well traveled and handsome. And while some of his past lovers miss him, none of them regret their time with him and look back on it fondly.

Buggy:

Similar to Usopp, Buggy would be full of false bravado at first. But when it comes time to do the deed, he’s strangely shy. Buggy isn’t used to being loved and cherished. He hasn’t had that since he was a kid, so he’s going to need a lot of reassuring. You’d have to stroke his ego a bit to get him in the right headspace to have sex. But once you do, he’ll be a surprisingly sweet and giving lover. He’ll want to be a dom, but will usually end up being a bit subby to you. He’d probably become very emotionally attached to you if you give him a blowjob. Giving him any sort of kindness or genuine love will make him fall head over heels.

I’m torn between thinking Buggy is still a virgin and thinking he had some experience in his younger, wilder days. He doesn’t strike me as the type to have a lot of one night stands, but he could have had a relationship at some point that we just don’t know about.

Crocodile:

A lot of people want to see him as a brat tamer, and I see the appeal, but in my opinion he’d prefer a mature relationship. I think he’d want someone classy that would match his vibe. So he’s going to keep his darling dressed up in the finest clothes and jewelry. I have a headcanon that he’s a sucker for fancy lingerie. He loves buying it for you, seeing you wear it, and especially taking it off you, slowly, piece by piece. I also think he’d be into some light bondage. Nothing too elaborate, just tying your wrists together with his belt occasionally. 

For Crocodile, the most intimate act would be showering together. Because of his weakness to water, he’s incredibly vulnerable while showering, so he’s only going to invite you to join him if he trusts you completely. Doesn’t get more intimate than that.

Rob Lucci:

He’s going to be a very stoic lover, not very verbal at all in the heat of the moment, but his body will tell you all you need to know. He would be very primal, hands on your throat, taking you from behind, growling in your ear. But at the same time, he’s making sure you’re totally satisfied. Don’t expect an actual relationship with this man. He’ll rearrange your guts and then disappear before you can roll over. But he keeps coming back to you. He might even develop a soft spot for you, so long as you respect his privacy and don’t ask for a commitment. 

The bird stays in the room, but give it some crackers as a distraction and it won’t stare the whole time. 

[transforming-transformer]

Call Me Chad

Charlie never thought that a beautiful girl like Rachel would show any real interest in a geek like him, but to use him just to get to Jack? His dumb musclehead roommate who he also had to tutor to get paid enough by his football coach? He felt heartbroken, trying to find the right words to say to her to not leave him. 

“I just can’t see a future between us, especially if you’re not hot like Jack,” Rachel said, as Jack wrapped his arm around her slender waist.

“Bro, she’ll never continue dating a nerdy loser like you,” Jack scoffed, cutting Charlie off.

The small, twig-like nerd lips quivered and his reddened eyes burst into tears as he ran out of the frat party, only to be caught by a few of Jack’s douchebag posse to be stripped till he was completely naked and eventually dunked into the swimming pool. It left him embarrassed, vulnerable and overwhelmed, as he was surrounded by pompous, superficial jerks that kept laughing and sneering at him. All of it turned his shame and guilt into anger and vengeance—

———

“CHARLIE! Wake up, man. The library’s gonna close in half an hour.”

Charlie woke up disgruntled and deeply frustrated. Fuck, he’d dreamt about the set-up. Again. It’d been a few weeks since he got dumped, and it still consumed his mind like crazy. He rubbed his eyes softly and looked up to see his good friend William waving his hand in front of Charlie’s face. 

“Hey, you okay? You’ve been dozing off quite a bit during study group,” William asked, looking concerned.

Charlie sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I’m awake. Just…”

“The set-up?” William replied. Charlie froze.

“Was it that obvious?” 

“Charlie, it’s the only thing that’s been on your mind for three months, and with the way things happened, I wouldn’t blame you for being so fixated on it,” William rubbed Charlie’s back caringly as he spoke, his hand pushing his glasses back up to position. 

Charlie sighed again, and sunk his head down. “But I shouldn’t be. I should have moved on by now, found someone new—”

William cut him off. “Don’t you dare go into what-ifs. That’ll only keep you miserable.”

“I know… it’s just… I wanna be someone’s special someone, but I can’t when I look like a stick and have to compete with huge muscle guys like Jack and his friends…” Charlie shook his head, frustrated and exasperated, while William gave him a comforting bro hug…

But William wished he could be more than just a friend to Charlie. See, William had been there for Charlie pretty much all their lives, growing up together and being very close. Hell, William had especially been there for him that night too: picking him up from the frat house; sitting with and comforting Charlie in his dorm; making sure he ate well and didn’t binge or starve himself; if anything, William would’ve made a great, loving boyfriend to Charlie… if only Charlie wasn’t so painfully straight and thought this was just a good friend looking out for a friend in pain. He, too, was frustrated by Charlie’s situation and constant thinking of the past.

Charlie rose from his chair and looked at William, smiling softly. “Thanks for being here for me, Will. It really means a lot to have a friend like you,” he said before walking away.

“L-likewise, Charlie. I’ll see you later,” Will replied, a smile forced onto his lips as he watched Charlie leave the library. Fuck, if only there was something he could do to make both his and Charlie’s situations ease up, but also align so they could be together.

Just as William was about to leave, he noticed a shimmer out of the corner of his eye. Turning to see where it came from, he noticed an old, rickety door with an oddly polished handle built in between the bookshelves. “Huh, I’d not seen that there before…” he mumbled as he walked over to it and turned the handle. The door swiftly opened, and Will stepped into what looked like a dusty, abandoned storage room, covered in cobwebs, rags and dust. He was intrigued at first, but screamed when he heard the door slam behind him without warning.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT??” he shouted, grabbing his phone and turning its flashlight on to look around for the source of the door closing. As he kept searching, a bunch of lanterns mysteriously flared up, suddenly illuminating the room to reveal an ancient-looking book on a cobwebbed lectern. After taking a few breaths to calm down, Will blew the dust off the book, to see its title: “The Jock Bible”. An Ancient Greek-style illustration of a hot, muscular guy adorned the cover.

“Hmm, interesting name for a book…” he pursed his lips, intrigued as he lifted the cover. He was suddenly overwhelmed when a golden aura emerged from the pages and blinded him, filling him with immense knowledge, knowledge that could play to both his benefit, as well as Charlie’s. The thoughts swirling in his mind made him smirk. Perhaps there could be a way to make Charlie his after all… though he himself might want to use it for his own needs too.

The next morning, Charlie waited in line at the cafeteria, concealing himself in a purple hoodie to not draw any attention from people. The party had made him embarrassingly and overwhelmingly visible, which gnawed at him and forced the poor nerd to resort to wearing more and more hoodies, just to hide. As he neared the trays and plates on the way to the buffet, he felt a firm, thick-fingered hand grab his shoulder, which sent shivers down his spine.

“Hey there, Chad, man you’re looking more huge every day,” a deep voice spoke.

“Wait, that voice is familiar,” Charlie thought, and turned around to see a handsome hunk standing there, in a blue tank top and grey sweatpants, which threw him off so much he jumped. The jock in front of him chuckled, while Charlie gripped his tray.

“Bro, chill, looks like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” he smirked as he eyed Charlie up and down. Another shiver ran down the nerd’s spine, and he felt strangely… comfortable.  Charlie took a few steps back as he still felt nervous around this guy, even if he was more chill about it, but the musclehead sauntered over and slapped the nerd’s back.

“Come on, let’s sit together and chat, Chad,” he said.

Charlie replied back, firmly, “My name’s not Chad! It’s Charlie!”

The jock shook his head and smirked. “Nah, dude, you’re Chad alright. One of the biggest dudes I’d ever seen.”

Afraid of this guy and what he was saying, Charlie threw his tray at the jock and made a run for it. He ran past the building he was supposed to have class in in an hour, past his residence hall, he even ran past the fraternity quad. When he stopped and took a breath, he looked around to see he was in the athletics area of campus, which spooked him. He could see the gym and the football field in front of him, and as he took a step back to wonder what the hell was going on, that slight shiver that ran down his spine tingled once more, and all of a sudden, his shirt felt extremely tight on him, as if compressing him.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, panting as he peeled off his shirt to no avail, the fabric tearing at his growing body. The buttons on his shirt bounced off as he felt his muscles grow at a rapid rate, which made him almost scream, while his shirt finally fell to the ground in a pile of shredded rags, to reveal a shocking surprise: rounded shoulders, defined pecs, washboard abs, toned arms, and a pair of legs strong enough to crush watermelons.

“H-holy shit, I’m buff??” he asked himself, and as he curled his arm into a flex, his bicep vein popped out, showing just how lean he was. His eyes went wide in horror. “What the fuck is going on??”

“Chad, Bro, I told you, you’re looking more huge everyday,” the jock from the canteen said, appearing as if out of nowhere. Charlie jumped and stepped back.

“Who the fuck are you?” Charlie asked, shutting his mouth as he heard a deep, bovine voice emerge from his mouth. “What the fuck is happening to me? What are you doing to me?” he cried, cowering in fear.

“That’s not the Chad I know. Dude, you’re the cockiest, most confident sigma jock on campus, not some wussy nerd,” the jock responded with a chuckle.

“I keep telling you, my name’s not Chad! It’s Chad—” Charlie tried to say his own name, but the name Chad slipped out of his lips instead. No matter how hard he tried, the name Chad stuck to his tongue like honey. “What the hell is going on?”

“You’ll see when we’re done, Chad.” The jock winked and sauntered away, his muscles defined by the sunlight above while Charlie watched, confused and terrified altogether. What did that musclehead mean by “you’ll see when we’re done”?

Walking back to his dorm, Charlie felt exposed. Embarrassed. He tried to cover up his body, but his hands, large as they were, were unable to fully cover his massively ripped chest, which bounced with every step he took. The now-lean muscular nerd, glasses still on, kept his head hung low to avoid attracting any more attention. However, when he was a few feet away from the front door, he heard giggles and whistles from the other side of the street. Charlie looked up, and noticed a trio of sorority girls looking at him. No, not just looking. Ogling him. Licking their lips and blowing kisses at him. As they did, his spine tingled… and he thought his dick was getting hard too. He smirked back at them with a confident grin, flexing one of his arms. The girls giggled even more, which made the nerd blush, until he realized his dick was still soft and limp. 

His face went pale at the realization, and before he could even try to process what the hell was going on, Charlie ran off into his residence hall, until he was finally in the comfort of his own room. Not at all realizing that he’d dropped and broken his glasses on the way.

———

It had been an intense two days since that strange jock pestered Charlie, and since he… well, got the body of one. He was still confused as to how he could just magically buff up like he did, especially since it looked like he’d been working out since he was thirteen and played football at the same time. Scouring through Google to find answers, there seemed to be no solution to changing himself back to his normal nerdy self. Not just that, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding like this - he was bound to step outside and run into people.

“Ughhhh, what do I do?” he asked himself.

Then, he realized there was one person he hadn’t seen since his change. William.

Charlie grabbed his phone and, with his meaty fingers, sent a message to his best friend, hoping he could have someone to trust with his secret.

CHARLIE: <<William, I need your help>>

The nerd-in-a-jock’s-body held his breath, waiting for a response, and sure enough, the text bubble showed up as William typed out his reply… one that poor Charlie was not expecting.

WILLIAM: <<sup chad? i was wondering where u went>>

Charlie was baffled, and in his shock, dropped his phone. Did that jock steal William’s phone? Was this some sort of elaborate prank that Jack and his buddies were pulling? His phone buzzed again, and he picked it up to see a new message from whoever had his bestie’s phone.

WILLIAM: <<earth to chad, bruh sometimes you can be so thick huhuhu>>

As he read this, he felt an intense fog fill his mind, obscuring his panic and attempts to make sense of the situation. A chuckle left his lips, and his hand covered them in waning concern. Charlie wasn’t dumb… was he? 

He put the phone down on his bed, and looked around the mess of a bedroom he was in: empty packs of chips, half-full bottles of soda and water, clothes strewn in every corner. Well, less clothes, more like shredded pieces of fabric that were once clothes that used to fit his lanky frame. All that survived were some of his oversized t-shirts and baggy jeans, which were more form-fitting on his now-muscular physique, leaving little to the imagination. That, and a set of gym clothes he found outside his door the night after his sudden second puberty. A tight grey Under Armour compression shirt that showed off his massive pecs, a pair of black five-inch inseam shorts that hugged his thighs, and a jockstrap.

If anything, his room resembled what he thought a douchey jock’s dorm would look like.

Charlie stood up, and he felt his head go woozy, the fog in his mind intensifying and concealing more of his usual train of thought. He sniffed like a dog, sensing there was an awful stench coming from inside his room. He first thought it was his clothes - sure, they had some cheesy scent to them, but not as intense as this one was. His shoes? Rank, but not what he was looking—OH, it was himself. Charlie’s pits reeked like crazy, his B.O. filling up the room and replacing the oxygen in it. Normally, he would wrinkle his nose in disgust, but with his mind in a daze, he let out another chuckle.

“Bruh, I reek,” he said, in a low, bovine tone reminiscent of Jack.

Fuck, Jack. That sexy motherfucker, with muscles that glistened with sweat, a handsome face that he could just kiss, and a dick worth sucking—

Wait, what??

Charlie quickly got dressed in the new gym clothes he got, not even bothering to shower or clean himself up, grabbed his phone and bag, and ran out of his dorm, pushing some of his fellow nerds out of the way. He made it outside, the sun shining on his chiseled face, and he began to saunter over to…

Wait, where was he going again?

He pulled out his phone, and looked through his calendar to see what class he had. He’d already missed his degree-required Python Coding class at 8:30 AM, History of Japan at 11:30 AM, and now it was past 2:00 PM. Charlie had… Physiology of Exercise at 3:00 PM followed by HIT DA GYM at 6:00 PM? As he regained some of his composure, Charlie was shaken. These two things on his roster were stuff a jock would study and do. He usually had Study Group with his friends at six… what the fuck was going on with him?

As the nerd felt some of the mind fog ease and dissipate, he noticed the same trio of girls from two days back, the ones Charlie flexed for, but this time they were accompanied by their frat bro boyfriends - all looked like they were cut from the same cloth: white, chiseled jawlines, built bodies. Charlie’s jaw dropped at the sight of these men, his cock was getting hard just by ogling them, and tenting visibly in his tight shorts. He was straight! Into girls! He wasn’t gay. He… he couldn’t be. He grabbed his bag and covered his obscene bulge, waddling over to the library to calm himself down and figure out what was happening to him.

———

William, meanwhile, was returning to his room at the Eta Theta Tau frat house, locking the door behind him as he pulled out The Jock Bible from his backpack. He smirked as he flexed his biceps in front of the full-length mirror on the wall, before sitting down and opening the magical tome that had granted him not only the body and life he’d dreamt of. He charmed his way, literally and figuratively, into Eta Theta Tau, the college football team, and even the Honors Society. He became insanely popular, grew in strength as he did bicep curls with 28-kilogram dumbbells, gained a rugged handsomeness by stealing some traits from his fellow frat bros, all of which made William more visible and prominent in the social fabric of campus life. 

The Jock Bible also gave the new frat bro, actually more like the Frat President, immense power to reshape reality and whoever he wanted to fit his new life. That included his crush on Charlie, soon to be his dumb boyfriend Chad. He laughed as he remembered scaring the shit out of his skinny nerd friend, taunting him into growing his muscles. They were getting big enough for William’s, or rather Will’s, taste, but he wasn’t so much into Charlie’s intellect. It kinda drove an unseen wedge between the two of them, and made Will feel dumb sometimes.

Well, with this next phase of the plan, that was about to change, and now he wondered what Charlie was doing with his text messages from earlier.

“Charlie, I can’t wait to make you my blissfully dumb muscle slut,” he chuckled as he turned the pages of the book to see what else he could pull off.

———

Charlie stumbled out of the library two hours later. It was fine, he thought, I can skip this class, it’s not even a class I remember signing up for. As he walked around, the golden rays of sunlight hitting his perfectly-tanned skin, he saw the jock who’d made him into an oaf of a man strutting in his direction. Charlie hid behind a tree, his breath picking up as he shivered nervously. His mind felt somewhat the same, but also felt a bit slower than usual.

“Who is this dude, and what does he want with me?” he asked himself.

He suddenly gasped as he felt a bunch of hands grab his arm, yanking him from his very obvious hiding place. Charlie’s eyes went wide when he saw who pulled him out - it was Jack and his group of bros, smirks on their faces as they looked at him.

“Yo, Chad, why’re you hiding from us dude?” Jack chuckled, patting the nerd’s back.

One of his posse, Dan, smirked. “Bruh, we got push day at six, you’ll be there, right?” he asked.

Charlie was even more confused, seeing his tormentors treat him as if he were like one of them. No, they were treating him as one of them. Panic rose inside Charlie, as it was quite the shift. Something felt really off, but before he could even speak his mind, his mouth spoke for him. “You know it, my man. Gotta get this chest so huge it’ll break a bra in half,” Charlie grinned back involuntarily, his hand cupping his pecs, which caused him to moan.

The group of jocks laughed out loud, as Jack held onto Charlie’s shoulder. “Man, you gotta control yourself, no one’s gotta know you turn yourself on,” he replied. Charlie stared at Jack, noticing that he was taller and bulkier than his bully. That was a welcome sight for him, considering he wanted revenge for the set-up, but there was something about Jack being smaller yet still muscular that Charlie was starting to find… hot. The posse sauntered off, cackling amongst themselves as the jock-nerd ogled them, feeling more confused than he did earlier. Poor Charlie, if only he knew…

The hours flew by, and before Charlie knew it, it was nearly six. He sat down on a rock by the lake, tears in his eyes as he watched the sun set, the sky filled with gold and the water crashing against the rocks below him. “What’s the matter with me?” he asked himself, rubbing his reddened eyes with his bear-like paws.

“Bro, chillax, you’re a jock now,” a voice bellowed in his head. Charlie turned around, trying to figure out where this jock-voice came from.

“Let go, man. No need for smarts anymore when you’re this jacked.”

His breath got heavier as he realized it was coming from his own head. “But… this isn’t me! I’m not a musclehead. I’m not friends with Jack. I’m not…” he paused.

“What, gay as a three dollar bill?” the voice, which he assumed must be the Chad everyone thought he was, asked. Charlie nodded.

“I’m straight, I’m into girls,” he stuttered out, feeling even more confused as his mind conjured up an image of the jock who’d started all this.

Chad chuckled dumbly. “Dude, chicks don’t really care about our muscles, but the bros? Man, do they want a piece of the action. Don’t you wanna finally enjoy life and get to fuck someone?”

Charlie gulped. This jock persona was right, even though it was hard to listen to an oaf, even if he was in his own mind. “I… I guess…”

“Then let go man, don’t be such a pussy. You’ll get everything you ever dreamed of,” Chad replied, and Charlie felt his lips curl into a jock-like smirk. One full of confidence, as if he knew he was the shit.

Charlie was now, though, now that he really, really thought about it. He had muscles now, and big ones too. He looked like he could play for the college football team as a tight end or a quarterback with his size. His face looked like it’d been carved by the ancient Greeks or Michelangelo, with how sharp his features were.`As for the python swinging between his legs? Well, I bet Jack’s couldn’t even compare.

“I just don’t wanna be—”

“What, an asshole? An arrogant douchebag?”

“Bingo,” Charlie sighed. “It all feels so surreal, but I don’t wanna betray who I am.”

Chad laughed. “Bruh, trust me, I’m just as dopey and curious as you are. I’m you, just hotter, more confident… maybe dumber, but at least I use my body and my mind for what actually matters.”

“So I’m just supposed to let go—what the fuck??”

Charlie screamed, as he suddenly found himself in the middle of the campus gym, and in the middle of a rep on the incline bench. His arms lifted the barbell with ease.

“How’d I get here?” he asked himself.

“You talked too much, little dude, had to get to the gym in time,” Chad replied as Charlie watched his body betray him, pushing and grunting through a few more reps on the bench press before setting the barbell down and sitting upright. “Trust me man, you, me, we can be happy if we choose to be.” Charlie stood up and saw his humongous body in one of the mirrors on the wall, his mouth agape in wonder while he flexed his biceps. They were the size of his former head. As he flexed, he felt… content. Strong as fuck. Happy, even.

“There we go, little dude, you and I are gonna become one sexy Chad by the end of tonight,” Chad spoke with Charlie’s mouth, and Charlie… well, he understood now. Maybe this was just what he needed.

———

Chad kept up the push day workout, grueling through incline bench presses, cable flys, weighted tricep dips, dumbbell skull crushers… the list went on. Grinding through each rep, Charlie felt his muscles pump up even more, sending a thrill of strength and cockiness through him, while Chad grunted, fixing his bulge every now and again. As the pair-in-one-body sauntered around each machine, they felt eyes staring at them - some girls found him hot, others found him disgusting when his B.O. wafted into their noses, while the other dudes… they thirsted over his physique, complimenting him.

“Holy shit, bro, you look huge!” one gym bro said.

Another one replied, “Dude, you’re the real alpha here.” 

Chadlie smirked when a cute twink named Jamie came up to him and asked, “Um… excuse me, how do I work out to look just like you?” The twink’s bubble butt bounced, and Chad just wanted to plow his fuckstick inside that cute boy’s hole. Charlie stammered as he tried to give some tips, but he felt his hand cup the boy’s ass, squeezing that soft flesh between his fingers.

Jamie blushed scarlet. “W-would you wanna head to the showers?”

Chadie nodded, a sly grin on his face as he picked up the cutie and strutted to the locker room, grabbing a pair of towels and carrying Jamie into one of the private shower cubicles. Charlie couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but Chad could. The jock ripped off Jamie’s gym clothes off his slender body, while the very slutty twink got to work, peeling the stud’s shorts and jockstrap to the floor and getting onto his knees. Jamie licked the tip of Chadie’s cock, the jock shuddering in pleasure as his little boy guided his ten-inch monster through his dick-sucking lips and into his oh-so-perfectly-tight mouth. 

“Fuckkkkk bro,” Chad and Charlie both moaned, their body’s hand grabbing Jamie’s soft, curly hair, letting his fingers run through each lock before gripping the twink’s head, then slamming his cock further down his throat, his lips meeting the base of his jock cock. Every inch of Charlie’s resistance to becoming Chad was wearing down with each thrust of his hips, precum dripping into Jamie’s throat as the twink cupped his baseball-sized nuts and massaged them so nicely, he almost busted one. But they kept going, and once he felt like his dick had been lubed up enough by the amazing sloppy he was getting, he pulled Jamie’s head off and lifted the twink up, turning him around and bending his sweet ass over.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, slut,” Charlie whispered seductively into Jamie’s ear. Or was it Chad? It was unclear now who was who, as the nerd began to let the jock into him, letting go as he plowed Jamie’s ass raw. The twink whined like a bitch in heat as he couldn’t hold on for much longer, as Charlie kept ramming his cock against Jamie’s prostate so hard that he could only see stars. Jamie came from his tiny nub, but Chad kept going, fucking the cutie as if he were just a plaything, grunting like a beast as he neared his own climax.

“Holy shit bro, I’m gonna CUMMMMMM!” the jock shouted, as he blew a massive load inside Jamie’s tight ass, filling it up to the brim and letting it leak a bit out of the twink’s hole as he slid out. In his mind, Charlie’s and Chad’s minds melted together in orgasmic bliss, blending together to create a cocky yet dopey, dumb yet curious, straight-passing yet gay-as-fuck jock - the Chad everyone knew him to be. He took a deep breath as he turned the shower on, washing Jamie’s lithe body, while the cutie lathered up his huge muscles, kissing a few times, before drying each other up.

Jamie grabbed Chad’s phone and blushed as he typed in his number. “Call me, Chad.” The twink’s ass bounced hypnotically as he ran to his locker, got dressed, and headed out. Chad chuckled, cupping his bulge. He left a missed call for Jamie to save his contact, then got dressed in his gym clothes again, his scent barely erased by the shower he just had.

As Chad made his way back to his room, Will bumped into him, a slight blush on his frat-bro face. He looked up into Chad’s empty eyes and dumb grin, and noted them down in his head. “So, gave in to the jock life, Chad?” he asked.

“Dude, it’s soooo chill. No thoughts, just lifting, fucking, sleeping. I mean, I still have some smarts, but like, they’re all workout and nutrition shit, you feel me?” Chad replied, chuckling like the typical himbo he now was, as his fingers ran through his hair.

Will smirked. It worked. Charlie, or Chad now, could finally be his. But not just that, he seemed taller and bigger than ever. He moved closer to the jock he made, and smiled. “I get you, bro. Though, I have a question. You still into chicks?”

Chad let out a boastful laugh. “Nah man, dudes are the only ones who can appreciate all this,” he said as he gestured to his muscular body, his right arm flexed to show off.

“Is that so?” Will asked, flexing his own pecs to show off. “Then, mind if I say, I find you fucking hot, dude,” he whispered, cupping Chad’s bulge sexily. However, shock flooded his face when the jock pushed him off.

“Sorry, dude. I mean, you’re hot and all, but I’m only into cute twinks,” Chad replied with a firm frown, before sauntering off.

Will was confused as fuck. The Jock Bible promised him that anyone he turned into a jock would worship him, become his boyfriend and servant. Maybe that’s because he hadn’t read the footnotes - the fine print stated that whoever the converted jock would fuck first would be his desired lover. That was Jamie the twink. Now, Chad was dumb as a pile of rocks, but clearly, Will was dumber for missing this, and the Jock Bible weaved its magic into his mind, making sure he was dumb enough to forget about its existence and its powers, leaving him powerless and too dumb for college, that he soon dropped out.

And as for Chad? Well, with Jamie as his lover, and with his dopey confidence in life, who wouldn’t want to be like him?

———

Hello, Tumblr! I'm back with a new story after a long while - this one's a commission I'd been working on for some time now, though life had thrown me a few obstacles in getting it finished. Hope y'all enjoy this one!

If you're interested in commissioning a story from me, see my post on commissions here! If you can't or don't want to commission any stories, you can also tip me over on ko-fi.

[interlude63]

Weddings and Wounds

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, toxic relationship, jealous!Rafe, possessive behavior, mention of forced marriage also english isn’t my first language.

Summary: You’ve been dating Rafe Cameron for a few years—maybe it’s finally time to make it official.

Word count: 2.5k

──────────────────────

Even though you’d been with Rafe for almost three years now, you still hadn’t gotten used to the fancy parties Cameron threw so often. This time, it was a much more important occasion—his cousin’s wedding. You wore an elegant, silky dress with a tailored fit. Of course, your boyfriend picked it out and paid for it.

“I told you that dress would look amazing on you. I always know what’s best for you, huh?” you heard Rafe say as he leaned against the door of his room.

“Yeah, it looks good,” you quietly responded. You didn’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead, you played with the fabric of the dress with your trembling fingers until you felt his hand on yours. His other hand gently grabbed your chin, and that’s when you finally met those intense blue eyes.

“You don’t like it or something?” he asked.

“No, I love it, Rafe. I’m just a little nervous, you know?” you said. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, even though you hated the dress. You hated every dress Rafe had bought for you, every flower, every necklace, every perfume.

It wasn’t that those presents were unappealing to you—no, they were probably the most expensive and luxurious things you owned. But it all felt like an illusion. The gifts were meant to show others that your relationship with Rafe was perfect, that he cared about you and spoiled you. But they didn’t know the dark truth behind every gift.

“You’re nervous, huh?” he repeated your words, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, princess. I have an idea to soothe your mind.” His fingers traced along your jaw, and when he saw your scared wide eyes, his smile only grew. He placed a small kiss on your lips and pulled back slightly to look at you again.

“Hmm, what would you say?” he asked in low tone, his hand beginning to wander along your body, dangerously close to your core.

“Rafe, the wedding starts in, like, 20 minutes. I think we should go to the car...” you tried to stop him, but it was Cameron’s firstborn son, so of course he insisted.

“Come on, we have plenty of time.” He murmured, his lips pressing against yours in a hungry kiss. Without waiting for a response he firmly pushed you onto his bed.

“Besides you look really really good in this dress babe”

──────────────────────

You ended up enjoying yourself at the wedding more than you expected. The music and food were great. You thought Rafe would be glued to you the whole time, always keeping an eye on you like most of the parties you attend to. But it turned out that Ward wanted to introduce him to some businessmen (his father always found a way to network and make connections, even at a wedding)

While your boyfriend was busy talking to them, you had some time to chat with Sarah. Even though she was Rafe’s sister, you hadn’t talked much before. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to—Rafe just never really let you. He didn’t like sharing you, especially with her, since he thought she was a spoiled, dumb bitch, as he has said many times.

"Hey, I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to ask, but Rafe said you’re hanging out with John B now?" Well, he didn’t say it exactly like that. It was more like, "Did you know Sarah is sucking off some fucking Pogue?" But there’s no way you are repeating that word for word.

“Oh yes, we’re kind of together. I mean, he didn’t ask me yet, but we spend a lot of time together, and I really like him,” she replied, and you could see the love in her eyes when she talked about John B. “I don’t want you to think I don’t like Topper or something. We just weren’t meant to be, I guess.”

Of course, she felt the need to explain herself—you were Topper’s friend, after all. Well, kind of. He was one of the two guys Rafe let you hang out with, the other being Kelce. But Rafe didn’t like it when you spent too much time talking to his guy friends. He’d cut you off mid-sentence and “joke” that they were trying to steal his girl, but you could always recognize the serious tone, knowing he meant it.

“But what about you? How are you even managing to stay with my brother for so long? I mean, no offense, but he’s kind of an asshole.”

Sarah knew Rafe was far from the perfect image he tried to portray, but she had no idea just how bad he could actually be.

You just awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, well, he’s really—”

Rafe suddenly joined the table, his gaze flickering between you and Sarah. “I see that you enjoy talking with my sister,” he said, his voice laced with irritation. “More than with me, huh?”

Sarah, unfazed, responded, “We were actually talking about you.”

Rafe’s expression tightened, a sharp edge creeping into his tone. “Really?” he said, his smile thin and forced. “How interesting. What exactly do you have to say about me?”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his gaze. It was clear he wasn’t just curious—there was something more beneath his words, a flicker of frustration that you couldn’t ignore.

“I was just trying to say how good and loving you are” you said quickly, trying to ease the tension that hung thick between you both.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, intense and unreadable. For a moment, you were scared he wouldn’t believe you, that your words wouldn’t be enough to shift the mood.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally responded, his voice low and quiet, as if he were weighing his words carefully. “You know I’ll always take care of you.” he said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As Ward and Rose joined you, their voices faded into the background, murmuring about wedding decorations. You couldn’t really focus on their conversation—it all seemed too distant. That is, until Ward spoke, his words pulling you back to the moment.

“You know, seeing all this today… makes you think, doesn’t it?” he said, a knowing smile on his face.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “Well, I mean, you two have been together for how long now?” His tone was casual, but there was something more in his words. “Maybe it’s time to make it official, huh?”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, the sound shaky even to your own ears. Make it official. The idea of being Rafe’s wife—tied to him forever—terrified you. You already felt vulnerable as his girlfriend, but you couldn’t even imagine the weight of being his wife. You hesitated, unsure how to respond, but before you could gather your thoughts, Ward cut in, his voice teasing.

“Just saying, you never know when the right moment hits. Might be sooner than you think.” His gaze flicked to Rafe, who was looking at you now, his eyes unreadable.

Your heart raced. The thought of marrying Rafe felt suffocating, but what could you do?

──────────────────────

“It’s getting kind of late, huh? We’re heading back. Come on,” Rafe said, hurrying you toward his Jeep. He opened the passenger door for you, but the sharp, forceful way he slammed it shut made it clear—he was angry. For some reason. And that wasn’t a good sign, especially since you were supposed to spend the night at his mansion.

The drive was painfully silent. The only sound was Rafe’s heavy sighs, each one deeper than the last, like he was wrestling with something intense in his mind.

“Rafe?” you asked softly, but there was no response.

“Rafe,” you said again, this time a little louder, a little more desperate.

“Can’t you just shut up?!” His voice shot back, sharp and filled with anger.

He didn’t even glance at you. His eyes were locked on the road, hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The tension in the car was suffocating, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of fear and confusion.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, Rafe stormed out of the car without a word, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t look back as he made his way to the mansion’s front door, opening it with a force that echoed through the night. You hesitated for a moment, but you knew better than to stay behind. Reluctantly, you followed, heart racing as you made your way up the stairs to his room.

When you reached the room, you found him halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, movements sharp. But then your eyes met his — filled with fury, burning like a storm ready to explode.

For a moment, neither of you moved, just stood there, locked in a tense stare. The silence was suffocating, until he broke it.

“You don’t have anything to fucking say?” His voice was like a slap.

Confused and a little shaken, you furrowed your brows, trying to process his words, but your heart was racing, your thoughts jumbled.

Rafe ran a hand through his messy, dirty blonde hair, his frustration clear as he moved toward you. His eyes burned with anger.

“Of course you don’t,” he spat, his voice full of venom. “You know why?” He didn’t wait for an answer, his gaze sharpening as he watched the confusion on your face, the look only making his anger flare up further. “Because you don’t think.”

“You embarrassed me,” he hissed, taking another step toward you, his presence almost suffocating. The tension between you two was unbearable now, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

“You made me look like a fucking idiot,” Rafe repeated, his voice low and sharp. “In front of my father, in front of Rose—everyone.” His hand shot out, gripping your jaw tightly, forcing you to meet his furious gaze.

“I’m sorry, Rafe. I didn’t mean to,” your voice trembled, the fear clear in every word.

He nodded slowly, a cruel smirk spreading across his face as he flicked his tongue over his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re sorry, huh?” he mocked, taking a step closer, his breath hot against your skin. “But you still don’t want to marry your own boyfriend, right?”

so it was about that.

“It’s not what I meant, Rafe,” you tried to reason, your voice trembling, but he cut you off with a bitter laugh.

“I swear, you’re making me mad on purpose,” he growled, his words sharp and filled with frustration.

You shook your head, as much as you could with his firm hold on your cheeks, the pressure making it hard to breathe. But Rafe didn’t stop.

He nodded slowly, his expression twisted with emotion. “You like it, don’t you?” His voice shook, full of frustration and bitterness. “It’s like your favorite thing in the world.”

“I’m sorry, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to pull his hands away, but his grip was like iron.

“Yeah, you said that,” he snapped, his tone colder than before, the anger still burning beneath it.

He let go of your face—for now—and pointed sharply at his chest. “I’m your boyfriend, okay?” His voice was a low, dangerous growl.

You turned your head to the side, a small act of defiance that only seemed to fuel his anger.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he demanded, his words a lingering threat in the air, his tone dripping with anger. “As your boyfriend, I expect some damn respect.”

You barely whispered, “I do—” the words swallowed by the weight of your fear and anxiety.

He tilted his head slightly, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Anger still simmered in his eyes, but there was something wicked in the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Show me then,” he ordered, his voice low and cold as he pressed his hands firmly on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees.

As you sank down in front of him, the weight of the moment hit you. His intentions became clear when he began to unbuckle his belt, and a sick realization settled in—you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

The house was empty. Ward and Rose were still celebrating at the wedding with Sarah, and Wheezie was probably fast asleep in her room. No one was coming. No one would hear. It was just you and Rafe.

You knew there was no reasoning with him. You knew Rafe too well—his volatile nature, the way his anger twisted into something dangerous, something unstoppable. Once his mind was set, there was no turning him back. And tonight, you could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t going to stop.

After he unbuckled his belt, the pants followed, unzipping to reveal his already semi-hard cock.

After all these times you had him in your mouth, it still made you feel suffocated by his size, the intensity always leaving you gasping.

“We’ll see just how much you really respect me.” He said and every part of you screamed to stop, to fight back, but the fear kept you frozen. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no—not when you knew the consequences of defying him would be far worse than enduring this humiliation.

His hand pressed against your head, guiding you with a firm yet controlling rhythm, forcing you to move in time.

His fury made him harsher than ever, as if your body was no longer your own, but a puppet to his demands. When you stole a brief glance up, your tear-filled eyes locked with his —there was nothing kind in it, only cold, detached control.

You just wanted it to end. You were drained, struggling to breathe, your throat raw with pain. Tears streamed down your face, but Rafe didn’t care. If anything, it only seemed to turn him on more.

He was even rougher now, his loud groans echoing through the room, each one more intense than the last. “You better not waste a single drop.” He spoke in a hoarse voice and moments later, he came in your mouth, you could feel warmth and the salty taste on your tongue as he continued to use you beyond his climax. After he finally let you go and saw that you had swallowed, he murmured, “Good.”

Rafe was looking down at you, but then he bent slightly and gently stroked your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. His breathing gradually evened out, and with a chuckle, he said, “God, I can’t believe my future wife is such a slut.”

[neeeooon]

hii! could i ask for blue lock and hq guys with a reader who also plays the sport? like for example nagi with a reader who also plays soccer? i’d prefer the pre-timeskip if that’s okay.

you can chose anyone so long as it has nagi and osamu miya, tysm and sorry if i sound a little demanding at the end djsjdh😭😭

no tysm for saying who you want!! it’s much easier for me that way (and it’s been a while since i watch the hq season w the twins so i’m sorry if they’re way ooc) 🤍 thank you for the request!

when you play a sport ;

bf bllk + bf hq (pre-timeskip) x gn!reader

nagi seishiro

-> “you’re the guy who practices soccer after school, right?” you catch him in class one day. nagi slowly looks up at you. “sure.” “i have a few pointers i think will help, a lot!” “i only play with reo.”

-> so you find reo and ask him, instead. that’s how you became their unofficial coach, and the three of you spent most evenings playing together

-> “here, try moving your hips like this,” you offer, guiding nagi’s body toward the ball. “it’ll widen your shoot range!” “oh. thanks.” “no problem! hey, is reo not coming?”

-> nagi turns away from you, hoping you don’t see how red his ears are when he remembers the pointers reo gave him when it came to talking to you. “no.”

-> from then on, reo seems to be “miraculously busy!” every time you invite him to practice, but he always pushes you and nagi together

itoshi rin

-> “get out of your head,” you encouraged gently as you approached rin after your private practice one evening. he asked you, surprisingly, to help him master a few shots after playing against someone named isagi

-> rin huffed a frustrated sigh but didn’t argue with you. he knew you were right, that he needed to focus on this, not the future. his plays. his brother

-> you gave him a nudge. “come on. let’s call it early. i’ll clean up and meet you outside!”

-> you understood rin’s desire to get stronger, but his drive was much different than yours. you played because you enjoyed it; he played to win

-> when you finally finished cleaning (rin silently joined you), you ran a hand through his hair and let it settle on the back of his neck. “when we play together, let’s play together, okay? just you and me, nothing else.” … okay :)”

bachira meguru

-> you learned how to play soccer for him, since you often noticed bachira playing alone. your friends thought it was silly, but you quickly fell in love with the sport

-> you started dating not long after that, and have been playing together ever since

-> “y/n! i’m gonna pass to you ☺️” “okay!” you pass it back and watch him light up as he dribbles it to the goal and shoots

-> though you have your own teams, you prefer practicing together. “y/n?” “yes?” “… promise we’ll always play soccer together? even when we get old?”

-> he showed you his invitation to blue lock after that. “of course we’ll always play together, bachira! it’ll be easy when we’re both playing professional soccer~” “maybe we’ll even play against each other one day!”

miya osamu

-> the miya twins were a legend at your school. at every school. they were called, “the most powerful duo” in volleyball, and you wanted to play them

-> you were tidying up the court after practice one day when you heard the door open and jumped when you spotted the grey-haired twin

-> “you play?” he asked, lips set in a flat line as he watched you fumble with your laces. “um, yeah?” “cool.” “… do you wanna play?” “not really. i’ll help you practice, though.”

-> two months later, you’re holding snacks for him as you cheer from the sidelines. your team lost their match, so you decided to cheer him on instead

-> “samu! stop letting sumu distract you!” “wh-y/n?!” “doing great, sumu!”

miya atsumu

-> “woah! can you set to me, too?”

-> atsumu was pulled from his concentration with a start, whipping around to find you ogling at him with a ball in your hands. “yeah, i’ve got time!” that was how you met your boyfriend :)

-> you were a bench warmer, so it wasn’t often that you got to play in actual games. atsumu was the only reason you didn’t quit since he spent his free time setting to you so you could practice your spikes

-> “you’re not bad! not as good as me, but—owie!” “i had something in my eye!” “sure, y/n. sure :)”

-> he helps you practice almost every day after that, his brother tagging along at times, but never contributing much other than a little comment here or there. your team made it to nationals, and he was cheering in the stands the entire time

suna rintaro

-> you weren’t a blocker, but you did play volleyball, so you understood some of the frustrations that came with the game, especially the aches and pains

-> suna sucked in a tiny breath as you finished taping his fingers. there was a little miscalculation in one of his plays, which lead to his fingers getting jammed

-> “does that feel okay? is it too tight?” he hums in response, letting you pat his hand a few times before sighing. “all good.”

-> you skipped your practice that evening to hang out with him, and you end up laying side by side on your bed watching videos of the twins fighting during practice

-> “why do you have so many? is this what you do instead of practice?” “yes.” “no wonder you messed your hand up.” “😐” “sorry, love you~”