#it's still there and you can see it but the key is *only* you can see it

[margeoww]

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pairing: max verstappen x mom!reader

summary: after a long race weekend, Max Verstappen finally comes home to his wife and daughter.

The house was quiet when Max finally stepped through the door, the only sound being the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. It was late—too late—but he still found himself moving carefully, as if afraid to wake the sleeping peace that filled his home.

He had been away for nearly a week, racing on the other side of the world, and though he loved what he did, the absence of his family was something he never quite got used to.

And then, just as he was placing his keys down, a soft voice broke the silence.

—You’re home.

Turning, he found you standing at the hallway entrance, dressed in one of his old Red Bull hoodies, your hair slightly messy from sleep. Your smile was tired but warm, and just like that, the weight of the past days melted away.

Without hesitation, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You smelled like home, like everything he had been missing.

—I missed you. —he mumbled against your skin.

You chuckled, fingers threading through his hair. —I missed you too. We both did.

At that, Max pulled back slightly, a quiet question in his eyes. —Is she asleep?

You nodded. —She asked about you all day, though. Even tried staying up to see you, but you know how that goes.

A fond smile tugged at Max’s lips. His daughter, Brie, had inherited his stubbornness, but she was still too little to fight off sleep for long.

—Can I see her? —he asked softly.

Hand in hand, you led him down the hall to her room. The nightlight cast a soft glow, illuminating the small figure curled up under a blanket. Max crouched beside her tiny bed, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of her breathing, the way her little hand clutched onto one of her favorite stuffed animals.

He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face. —Hey, meisje. —he whispered. —Papa’s home.

Even in sleep, she stirred slightly, as if sensing his presence. His heart clenched.

—You should get some rest too. —you murmured from the doorway.

Max exhaled, pressing a gentle kiss to Brie’s forehead before standing. —Yeah. But first, I just want to hold you for a while.

Back in your bedroom, he pulled you into bed with him, arms wrapped securely around you. For the first time in days, he could truly relax.

—This. —he murmured against your temple. —is the only podium I ever want to be on.

His lips brushed your ear as he whispered. —And when she’s asleep, I’ll show you just how much I missed you.

With that, sleep finally claimed him—safe, warm, and right where he belonged.

[heinousarrogance1]

the post above was the inspiration for this little fantasy, thanks @cutenbrattyyx for aloowing me to use your post here. A Room to Let 

(TW Non-Consent Fantasy)

One of the great things about living in a college town is the number of sophomore girls eager to get off campus housing.  A house conveniently located within easy walking distance of both the campus and the party strip downtown with a fairly spacious bedroom, with a private bathroom, and run of the rest of the house, a cleaner who comes twice a week, and an almost ridiculously low rent, I have a regular stream of applicants every fall. It’s a pretty easy sell even if I am a single older man.

After showing the room a couple of dozen times, I settled on taking in Jenny as this year’s tenant. A cute but also kind of timid girl, never objecting if I was standing a little too close or looking a little too long.  She showed up to move in the weekend before school started ,  and I handed her the key, gave her the wifi password, and helped her move her boxes upstairs.  The whole fatherly helper vibe.

For the first month all was well, she got comfortable around the house, even hand a couple of friends over for a study group in the dining room,  and enjoyed the absence of an RA giving her shit for stumbling in drunk at 3 AM on the weekends. Now if there is one thing you can count on from young women just out of the nest with too much freedom  it’s overspending. The first of the month rolls around and when I knock on her door and ask about the rent she’s sheepishly admitting she is a bit short and can she have a few days.  Of course Jenny.  We keep up this charade for a week and a half.  And it’s Friday night, I hear the shower run in her bathroom and the sounds of her blow dryer going so I know she's getting ready to go out.

Time for my move.  A quick rap on her door and I open it without warning,barging in  to find my cute little sophomore Jenny taking naked mirror selfies.  I stepped over to her, talking loudly about the overdue rent, but the entire time my eyes were on her lithe naked body.  One hand grabbed the wrist holding her phone,twisting it to see that she was taking photos, not video and the other went to the back of her neck, bending her swiftly over the dressing table.I pinned her down with a grip in her neck, her face almost up against the mirror.  “Rent is Due! Jenny..”

She began to beg, “please no, don’t please.. I’ll get the money..” but I just held her naked body down with one hand  in her hair at the back of her neck, as the other freed my cock. She tried to struggle but pinned down and against the dressing table there was no escape.  I pushed my cock into her and she was already wet. God she was so tight and warm around my cock. ���The little slut likes showing off, doesn’t she” I growled in her ear.�� 

 I slammed into her over and over, each thrust bottoming out painfully inside her unwilling little cunt.   Soon her tears started and her objections and resistance  trailed off into deep wracking sobs, as if her body, if not her mind accepting that this is what had to happen.  That’s when I reached around with one hand to rub her clit, a finger gliding over it in time with each thrust into her. It didn’t take long for the little slut to respond, her hips starting to push back, grinding her ass against my almost of their own volition, which only made the rubbing of her clit more intense. It didn't take long before her tormented body betrayed her, cumming hard as she was raped in her own bedroom. 

 I paused, not wanting to cum yet, holding myself still inside her as she came down, then I  started to thrust again, this time slowly, methodically building her back up towards another orgasm.  Her sobs shifted to moans, and again my hand slipped under her to caress her hard little bud, as I moved slowly inside her. This time her orgasm built more slowly, but finally  came crashing over her in waves, making her body shudder. Her moans were feral, like an animal in heat.  I thrust in deep and began to cum inside her, groaning with the pleasure of taking her like this the first time. I would not be the last.  I picked up her phone, sent a quick text message to her friend group begging off the weekend’s activities because she felt sick. Now I had the whole weekend to fully break her.  It’s going to be fun.

bend me over and r@pe me? 🥺

[le-monchou]

am i falling in love with the one? || love and deepspace

xavier listens to you sing in silence, gentle eyes wide open with an intensity in the blue-gray that makes you shudder deep in your heart. he doesn't interrupt, no, how could he, when he inspired such a song, that no matter your ability to sing, you were singing? for him? after you finish, he still sits silently as you fidget in front of him, and he whispers praises breathlessly as he reached for your hands. "you wrote this for me? for me?" he looks away, eyes still wide, wondering how to voice the emotions violently swirling in his chest.

later, he’ll casually hum the melody under his breath when he thinks you’re not listening.

when you sit him down after a long day and start humming, zayne makes sure to listen to every word. his sharp, attentive eyes droop with relaxation and ease, and you try not to smile at the way he slides cozily on the bed, resting on the covers and trying to fight the need to close his eyes and rest. As the song continues, his skin flushes and his ears turn red, and as you end the song, he pulls you closer to him, kissing your torso and your hands. "thank you. the song was beautiful. if you have more, i would love to hear them all."

later, he insists you record it so he can listen to it during his rare breaks.

from the first note, rafayel is mesmerised. it's almost as if he's not even here with you anymore- far away in lemuria, under the ocean, where his home was. his expression softens as he rests his cheek on his fist and closes his eyes, completely absorbed in your voice, as if you’re the only thing that exists. it scares you, a little- the way he can be so absorbed in you like nothing else matters. it is flattering, nonetheless, and when you finish the song, he doesn't say anything for a minute. "it's wonderful. i love it. it's... it's as if you wove the universe into a song just for me."

later, you find him playing the melody on his violin, lost in his own world.

sylus watches you with an unreadable expression and a glass of wine in his hand, red eyes locked onto yours, unblinking but gentle. as you sing, his posture stays relaxed, but you can sense the storm raging beneath his exterior, and you try not to smile- he loves you, loves you, loves you so- but you see the slow tapping of his foot as he clumsily tries to match the beat. by the end of the song, he lets out a breath, one he didn’t realize he was holding, and a slow smirk tugs at his lips as you smile. "you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, sweetie?" his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something else there, something vulnerable, something loving. he won’t say it outright, but the song means more to him than he’ll ever admit verbally, but you know what he means.

later, he hums it absentmindedly, a little off-key, as if it’s been etched into his very soul.

from the first note you sing, caleb’s expression is pure awe, awe in a way that could never be explained, only seen. his eyes widen, and a soft smile spreads across his lips as he listens, phone tossed carelessly to the side. he leans in, elbows on his knees, completely lost in you and your voice, and when the song ends, he blinks rapidly, as if snapping out of a dream he did not want to end. "that was... amazing. no, no, more than amazing." his voice is thick with emotion and earnestness, and before you can react, he wraps you in the warmest hug. though you don't comment, you can feel his heart pounding. "sing it again? please?"

he’ll never get tired of hearing it, and later, he asks you to teach him the melody and the lines so he can sing it back to you.

@valzxx11 requested this in the community and the server and the gods forced me to write this like my hands were on fire so why not :3 it's a very cute idea, and i hope you like this!!! im sorry that these are so short :") || xavier, zayne, and rafayel's headers are by @editshan! || 671 words

[writing-for-marvel]

Bed Chem

Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your roommate Bucky walks in on your sexy Valentine’s Day plans with boyfriend Steve, and you ask him to join.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, MMF threesome, double vaginal penetration, thigh riding, oral (f & m receiving), ever so slight degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, spanking, a little Steve x Bucky, just some porn for your Valentine’s Day reading pleasure

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Who’s the cute guy(s) with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad mm? Happy Valentine’s Day ♥️ banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Your friend hit me up so we could connect, And what are the odds? You send me a text

It was a fortunate coincidence you met Steve Rogers when you did - he was picking up his best friend Bucky, your roommate, for a poker night when you answered the door in skimpy pj shorts and a singlet.

You remember the amorous twinkle in his bright blue eyes as he chatted you up, leaning against the doorframe so that his shirt rode up and you caught a glimpse of his happy trail and the defined oblique muscle which had you squeezing your thighs together.

It was not even 24 hours later, having practically begged Bucky for your number, you received a message asking you out.

That was more than a month ago, and is how you’ve now ended up here, sitting in Steve’s thick lap, his large hands splayed on your ass and his tongue down your throat on Valentine’s Day.

The pads of your fingers feel every toned muscle of his abdomen as your hands work to unbutton his shirt. His body is like that of a God carved from marble, powerful, strapping, and you can’t believe you get to fuck him.

“Be a good girl and get all wet and messy for me.” He orders in that raspy, hungry tone you’ve come to know well. Taking charge, Steve places you on his firm thigh, flexing the muscle beneath you. His hands rock your hips against him, prompting you to grind in fluid motions, your throbbing pussy finally feeling the friction she is desperately craving. “For all the filthy things I’m going to do to you, I need you dripping.”

The damp arousal soaking his pants is evidence you’re already drenched, but you’re resolute in making a mess for him, just like he asks. Whimpers cascade from your lips as you continue to grind against him, following his commands, his growling voice deep in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve practically rips your top and bra off your body, lips latching to your nipple, tongue performing sorcery that makes you see a galaxy of stars behind your eyes.

You’re too caught up in each other, in how Steve’s thick thigh feels against your core, to notice a key turn in the lock, the front door swinging open and Bucky gaping at the front row seat he’s been given to your exhibition on the couch.

By the time you notice Bucky, his erect cock is painfully obvious as an outline in his sweatpants. You shoot him a smile, all the while still rocking your hips, and your best come hither smoulder you can muster with Steve’s mouth sucking on your breast.

“Don’t be shy, Buck. Come closer, get a good look.” A teasing smirk curves on Steve’s lips, only briefly taking his eyes off you above him to invite his best friend over to the pornographic scene taking place on his couch.

You’ve never seen typically forwardly flirty Bucky Barnes look as bashful as he does right now, a flush creeping up the tops of his cheeks, and his bright blue eyes are locked in on your oscillating hips rocking against Steve’s thigh as if he’s seeing a woman naked for the first time.

“C’mon pretty girl, show Bucky how beautiful you look when you cum.”

Steve’s chest reverberates against yours as he speaks in a deep, low voice. That combined with Bucky’s lust blown pupils urge you on, hips taking on a life of their own, angling your pelvis so you’re flawlessly stimulated, now wanting to appease not only your angelic boyfriend but the other pair of astonishingly blue eyes now trained on you.

All it takes is Steve’s supple lips to start sucking on your collarbone, his hands securely squeezing your hips and a small whimper from Bucky as he steps closer, for euphoria to crash over you like a waterfall, drowning you in a suffocating, all consuming, leg shaking, back arching orgasm.

Maybe it's all in my head, But I bеt we’d have really good bеd chem

“You liked that didn’t you, you little slut? Making Bucky watch?” You hum in agreement, your head still hazy from your orgasm, high on the feeling of bliss flowing through your veins.

Bucky adjusts himself and the thought of including him in your Valentine’s night plans makes you salivate. Being in the middle of both of these tantalising men, their muscular, sweaty bodies taking all the pleasure that your body is capable of for themselves, is a dream come true.

“You wanna taste how sweet my girl’s pussy is?” You watch on as Bucky practically jumps on the couch, eagerness etched into the smile growing on his gorgeous face.

You may have had just a teensy crush on Bucky when you first moved in, there’s no denying he has a certain boyish charm and a face card that makes ladies young and old swoon at first sight - a face you’d fantasised about sitting on more than a couple times.

“That’s it, no need to hover, all the way down.” Bucky’s rough hands pull your hips down so you are fully seated on his face, the tip of his tongue circling your already dripping entrance a couple times forcing a groan from the back of your throat.

“Open your mouth for me.” Steve requests, the pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip, and your jaw slackens for him. “Swallow me whole, pretty girl.”

You gag as your boyfriend's large dick hits the back of your throat - it’s not a new sensation, you’ve given Steve many a blowjob before, but not while also seated on a pair of lips that are ravishing your slick folds.

Bucky’s mouth works wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, which makes performing an expert job on Steve that much harder, but you’ve always been up for a challenge.

Using your hands to assist in maximising Steve’s pleasure, Bucky does the same for you - hungry touch roaming all hot skin he can reach from his position below you. There’s a small part of you that is acutely aware that two sets of eager, yearning blue irises are set upon you. But more than any other feeling, capturing both insanely attractive men’s full attention feels powerful, like you’re an unstoppable, raging river that dictates the flow of nature.

“I need you to fuck me.” Your words come out as a moaned plea, desperation as clear in your tone as it is in the arousal flowing out of you that Bucky is gladly lapping up.

“Whose cock do you want, baby?” You hear Steve say, taking your focus away from Bucky’s pretty, hypnotic eyes looking up at you riding his face. “Who do you want to fuck you sensless?”

Your eyes meet Steve’s pale blue ones and he knows without words exactly what you're longing for.

How you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round, Oh, it just makes sense

Steve manhandles you, practically throwing you down on your large bed. Having him looming over you, shoulders wide, thighs thick, cock erect, gives you a fluttering feeling of premonition in your belly. These man are about to ruin you.

The glint in his eye all but tells you he’s about to fuck you in a way where you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Steve flips you over, and pulls you back so your ass is in the air, glistening pussy displayed for him. There’s a sharp smack against the flesh of your ass before he plunges into you, a deep, forceful thrust that makes you gasp with how much air he’s knocked from your lungs.

Bucky takes pleasure in watching Steve fuck you, stroking himself at a leisurely pace as his eyes widen in attempts to not miss a single moment of how exquisite you look while clinging to the sheets and being absolutely ravaged by his best friend.

“Suck him off.” Steve demands, an assertive hand grabbing the back of your neck, pulling your face up from being buried in the blankets that smell just like your boyfriend and towards Bucky’s hard on.

Having both of them filling you from either end of your body does something to you you can’t explain. Never in all your life have you felt this aroused, this needy, this desirable.

Steve makes contact with your ass again as he continues to split you open - your entire body inflates with insurmountable pleasure, a type of high that can barely contain within your corporeal form and transcends multiple planes of reality.

“Aww, you gonna cum already?” Steve taunts gravelly in your ear, feeling your walls flutter around him as the room fills with the sounds of you gagging on Bucky’s dick and Steve’s strong hips rhythmically crashing into your ass.

You don’t even have the opportunity to get a reply out, too busy trying to focus on taking Bucky, when your high hits you like a sudden, almost unpredicted, smack from Steve. The edges of your vision blur, or maybe it’s just your eyes rolling back, as a devastating, white hot pleasure rips through you, rays of warm ecstasy radiating from your core as if you are the sun itself.

And the two men currently sharing in that rapture on your bed certainly regard you as if you’re the centre of their universe in this moment.

How you talk so sweet when you’re doin’ bad things, That's bed chem

“Fuckkkk.” Bucky moans, his large hands finding your waist as you sink all the way down on him. “Steve, your girl’s so wet.”

“Best pussy I’ve ever had.” Steve says with a smirk, watching your face contort in pleasure as you adjust to this new angle with a soft endearment in his eyes. It continually surprises you how he can look at you with such affection when you’re in the middle of doing the filthiest things for him. Even fucking his best friend.

The best way to shut Steve’s vulgar mouth is by giving him something far more alluring to preoccupy his tongue with. He lays down on the bed before you, mesmerised by the way your pussy slides up and down on Bucky’s cock, how you take all of his long member seemingly with ease.

His tantalising fingers carefully, almost painfully so, play with your already sensitive clit, before he dives in tongue first, swirling, sucking, lapping at every drop of arousal gushing from you, paying extra close attention to that spot which makes you dizzy with desire.

“Holy fuck!” You shout into your bedroom which has now become a steamy, sweaty sauna of moans, curses and whimpers. “Right there - oh god! That feels so fucking good!”

The things your man can do with his tongue are otherworldly, and a sense of possessiveness flashes through you - you’re the woman he sinks to his knees for and worship like a queen.

But then Steve does something you’re not expecting - and though you can’t quite see it from your vantage point, you feel Bucky’s chest vibrate beneath you as he groans, presumably as Steve takes Bucky’s balls into his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie.” Bucky breathes next to your ear, in a low moan, a timbre of voice you don’t think you’ve ever heard from him before. He’s clearly enjoying what your boyfriend's tongue is capable of as well.

Bucky’s hands squeeze tighter on your waist, his thrusts not as languid as before as he contends with multiple sources of gratification, something you suspect he has not felt before this very moment. And by the sounds of him panting underneath you, you’re sure he’s loving it.

And I bet it’s even better than in my head

Steve gives one last kiss to your sensitive and puffy clit, before he stands between your legs.

“Need you to turn around for me, pretty girl.” Steve’s voice has an edge of shakiness to it now, desperate need overcoming his usually calm, dominant demeanour.

You do as your told, now facing Bucky’s dazzling eyes that hold a burning desire you’ve never seen gaze at you with. The fluttering in your tummy when your hands rest on his broad, strapping chest and you sink back down on him, indicates to you this definitely isn’t the last time you’d like to see it.

“Want you to take both of us at once, think you can do that for me?”

Lord, you have no idea if your body is even capable of that, but if there are any two people on the planet you’d try for, it’s the two in this king size bed with you. You’re always up for a challenge.

“Yes, please, I need to feel both of you.”

Never in your life have you felt a burn so delectable as when Steve pushes inside you, your walls stretching to accommodate both men’s impressive sizes. Bucky clearly feels it too, how cramped for space you must feel as his groan matches your own, Steve’s cock sliding along Bucky’s as you wiggle your hips to aid in fitting both of them.

You’ve never felt this full before, so stuffed that you’ve truly reached 100% capacity, that it feels like you’re going to burst from being so utterly satiated.

“You were made for this weren’t you?” Steve asks rhetorically, because right at this second it undeniably feels like the three of you were designed for this exact purpose.

“Made to be stuffed with both our cocks.” Bucky adds with a grunt, teeth scraping your collarbone that just adds to the shiver that runs down your spine.

They don’t even have to move inside you for you to know you’re close. You’re not even sure there’s room for movement, everything feels so cramped, but in the best. You’re confined by two sweaty, muscular men intent on making you cum again.

Bucky's firm hands spread you open, whilst Steve’s tender hands on your hips assists with moving you along their cocks, only to push you backwards and you groan as they fill you again. All thoughts evaporate from your mind and all you can feel is them stretching you out, Bucky breathing shallowly beneath you, Steve’s low, melodious tone reverberating from behind you.

“That’s a good girl, cum on our cocks. We’ve got you, gorgeous.”

This time you’re fully aware of the crescendo you’re reaching, the life ruining orgasm that’s about to hit you square in the chest and fracture you into tiny pieces.

However hard you thought you were going to cum, it could not have prepared you for the moment the taut band in your belly finally snaps. Ecstasy in its purest form pulses in your veins, filling your whole, trembling body with a high so powerful the whole galaxy of stars flash behind your eyes.

You’re mumbling incoherent whimpers as the men reach their peak, feeling you clench down even tighter on their dicks, their shafts sliding along one another’s, they both spill their orgasm into you.

You feel gapingly empty when they pull out of you, like there is a crucial part of your anatomy that is now missing and you won’t feel whole again until it’s restored. Steve watches with erotic fascination as all your mixed releases drip from your core, taking a thick finger and pushing it back inside you where it belongs, before grabbing a damp cloth to clean you up.

Once he’s done, Steve lays beside you so you’re sandwiched between him and Bucky, placing gentle kisses to your form as tiredness starts to overtake you from the most incredible night of your life.

You’re not sure where this leaves your relationship with either man, is Bucky fated to simply be your roommate from now on? How can you go back to sleeping just a wall away knowing what phenomenal pleasure he can pull from your naked body? Would your normally dominant and possessive boyfriend mind sharing you with his best friend again?

But one things for sure, you're absolutely positive you’ll never feel completely satiated again unless you have both of their cocks inside you.

I bet we’d have really good bed chem

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[bonbonly]

Hiya Bon, I’ve had a shit day in work and was wondering if you had any thots about biker!carlos??

~💕

hiii, omg im so sorry to hear that!! and as for biker!carlos please im still not over it im going feral ive been going feral over it UGH

bon's thoughts (18+) a/n: only writing this because biker!carlos RUINED me im still studying gang and this is short so im sorry!!!

biker!carlos oh where do i begin, im still like gnawing the bars of my enclosure just thinking about it, and i was just talking to somebody about him dating a uni!reader.

he's waiting on his bike outside a building, and sees you talking to somebody on the breezeway. all you have to do is send him a text and he's grabbing his keys, speeding off to you. has his helmet on and everything, toying with his gloves as you're still ignoring him, chatting to some guy who he definitely doesn't like for a bit too long. biker!carlos just takes off his helmet, biting the gloves off his hand before letting it run through his hair (ok but can he run through me next) and loudly revs up his bike, glaring at you.

arms crossed against his chest, a hardening glare before you finally peel away from your conversation and walk over to him with your books in hand, moving to kiss his cheek. but his eyes are still locked onto your classmate, lips forming into a thin line. and despite his annoyance, he's still helping you with your helmet and asking you to hold on tight as he speeds off to his apartment.

ok but imagine when you're in his apartment, he just lifts you and tosses you onto the couch and takes your clothes off, no words and no explanation. he places the helmet on you, visor down so he can see his reflection. he's definitely fixing his hair in the reflection, smirking because he can't see your confused expression and spits down onto your cunt, letting his cock slide against your folds. your whimpers are a bit muffled and he just chuckles lowly,

"you look good with my helmet on, hermosa," he smiles, before burying himself to the hilt, groaning at how good your walls swallow his aching cock. he's throwing his head back and muttering some curses in spanish under his breath before licking his lips and staring down at you, driving his cock into you at a brutalizing pace.

"i think you forgot who your boyfriend is, mi vida, tsk tsk tsk i always have to remind my precious girl," he grunts, shifting your body into a mating press. he's watching himself on the reflection, watching the way his cock drives into your squelching cunt as he reminds you who gets to fuck your cunt every night.

and if he ever sees your classmate again when he drops you off to class the next day, his gloved hand smacks your ass and he's snickering under his helmet.

[kyunzin]

☆𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘?☆ - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

✰ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ✰ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐊. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ✰ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ✰ them overhearing you say you can take all of them at once (f!reader) ✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✰ pussy licking, fingering, hair pulling, praise, face fucking, manhandling, degrading, sloppy make out, spit kink, cum eating, blowjobs ✰ 𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍��𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ✰did you guys know word counters are useful😀 why had i already hit the word count ages ago (i roughly count by paragraphs 10 lines= 100 words/ 10 paragraphs =1k words yk so 30 paragraphs =3k words. i hit 3 k in like the 27th paragraph) also if you see any words that look like they’re missing a ‘h’ its because that key is broken for me and i probably forgot to edit it in :D

w.c ✰ 3.4

it's almost too much for you to handle

it's probably not a good idea to make promises you might not be able to keep

it's going to be fine, you’ll find a way to get through it since after all you can take it, cant you?

geto sucks in the whine you let out when gojo's tongue doesn't move, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, holding you down when you try to roll your hips into gojo's face. "you'll get what you want soon. 'm gonna give him a little taste so he doesn't bitch, keep your tongue flat and don't move it or else you wont get anything for the rest of the night" you can tell the last bit was directed at gojo as he responds with a hum of 'mm-hmm', the vibrations against your pussy cause your legs to twitch. geto guides your hands down towards gojo's hair and you instinctively you grip onto it.

you're near breathless, panting heavily when geto's lips part from yours, trying to chase his hips but he only breaks the kiss to quickly whisper to you "pull his hair he loves it" you follow his command, tugging firmly at his hair as instructed and the result doesn’t disappoint. gojo's moan goes straight to your core and you shudder in pleasure. "told you, he's a little pain slut" gojo lets out a whine at geto's comment and toji laughs clearly amused by the interaction yet you can only sit there aching for some more stimulation. "i thought you said it was rude to keep your guests waiting, yet here i am still waiting"

even though your words come out breathy toji smirks up at your little quip "fine. since you can't seem to wait, fuck yourself on his tongue but when i tell you to stop you do. understand?" he stands from is position on the floor, making his way to sit in a small arm chair off the side of the queen sized bed. "yes, fuck finally" you get to work immediately drag gojo’s tongue over your aching cunt, pulling his face further into your pussy while he keeps himself still for you to use. "where d’ya find this one, she's so demanding" in your periphery you can see him stroking is cock through his pants.

you ignore his words and focus on working gojo’s tongue, throwing your head back relieved that you’re finally able to gain some stimulation after being left waiting for so long. you can tell gojo’s enjoying this from the little vibrations of noises he lets out as well as his firm grip keeping your legs spread wide out next to him. geto's soft chuckle tickles the crook of your neck at the clear desperation of your movements "found her and her friend talking about all the things she would let us do to her in the middle of campus so proudly" you curl into his touch without halting the movement of your hands.

toji raises is eye brows at geto's words but you're too occupied with the feeling of gojo's wet tongue to notice. "and what exactly would she let us do to her?" toji says with a curious smirk eager to hear the answer. "why don't you tell him, i'm sure you had a lot more to say than what you told us, right?" you can hear the teasing tone in is voice, wishing that you wouldn't have to repeat yourself. a couple of seconds pass without your reply and the two of them realise that you didn't hear them, head thrown back on geto's shoulder, lost in the way gojo's tongue glides up and down your folds.

it’s hard to focus on what their saying when you’re so lost in your pleasure. gojo’s saliva oozes out his mouth, creating a hot wet mess between your legs as he practically drools all over you yet your pleasure is lost without any warning. "i asked you a question," you let out a choked sob when gojo is ripped away from you and try to chase his mouth with your hips only to be stopped by geto, opening your eyes to see gojo's spit soaked face smiling up at you mockingly while he inwardly mourns the loss of your taste on his tongue. "how will we know what to do, if you don't tell us?"

you know there's no use in trying to evade the question yet you're too frustrated to even care. "i want you to fuck my throat. want you to mess me up inside and out. i don't wanna be able to talk or walk after you're done with me," you turn to look at toji who's grin stretches from ear to ear. there's a very visible wet spot marking out where the tip if his cock lies yet his makes no moves to remove himself from his confines. you’d leave it at that but you might as well tell them the full extent of what you want "want you to fuck me up real good, whatever you want. do your worst, i can take it"

even though you may have skipped over a few minor major details you're sure that they would be able to get the gist. "atta girl, that wasn't so hard now was it. now we can finally get to the good shit" he rises from his place on the chair and makes his way over to the three of you with his yes locked with yours. toji's words paired with geto's soft "good girl" sends a thrill down your spine. geto’s calloused hands keep you grounded where you are as you start to get fidgety again “keep still, you’ll get what you want soon princess” his words still your little tremors as the promise of more eases your mind.

"toru' move i didn't get a good taste earlier" toji winks at gojo and as if on cue he follows his words without a moments fail, letting his hair loose from your hands you mourn the loss of his warmth between your legs, and you catch a glimpse of his dejected face as he stands up taking toji's previous place on the seat and you spot the raging tent in his joggers. "looks big doesn't it?" you nod your head as you continue to stare and upon noticing your gaping, gojo’s face lights up again. as if to show off gojo makes quick work of pulling out his cock, geto scoffs as his display and focuses his attention on you.

"i'm sure you'll be able to take it and if not, well i guess that's your problem isn't" you can hear his soft laughter from above you. gojo's size should be the least of your problems right now because the feeling of whatever is poking your head is breaking any hopes you had before of them being average. it’s stupid to keep that idealistic thought. your head snaps downward at the edge of the bed as toji settles himself between your legs with a predatory look in his eyes, stopping a few inches from you. “don’t worry, you’ll be able to take it with a little practice” that does little to ease your worries.

the yelp that you let out when toji lifts your calf and bites it has the other three in the room laughing at you. he keeps up his ministrations while placing each leg over his shoulders. "don't act so surprised sweet cheeks, i'm just getting into position" you can hear gojo mumble something about ‘taking his spot from him’ but pay him no mind as toji licks his way along your thigh "squeeze ya legs if you want, that way i’ll be able to tell how good i'm making you feel since you wont be able to speak" confusion must show on your face yet instead of satisfying your curiosity toji just winks at you.

toji’s calloused hands run up the length of your left leg pushing it to the side ever so gently, while he scatters ostentatious kisses along the other. his frequent kisses have your legs twitching in anticipation as he teases you, taking his sweet time, eyeing you closely until he finally presses a feather light kiss to your spit soaked clit. he pulls back and you watch as a thin wet string connects his lips, glistening with your slick, to your pussy until he licks them clean “s’ as sweet as sugar princess,” he leans down and repeats the motion this time with more emphasis “where’ve you been hiding?”

your response is a choked moan and your hands reach into his hair which he takes that as a sign to continue, sucking on you clit as if he’s expecting something to come out. he soon lets up and smiles down at your now puffy clit like a child proud of their drawing, rubbing his thumb in circles over it while your hand uselessly holds onto his thick wrist as his hand abuses your clit. “that feel good sweet cheeks?” you frantically nod your head as you bite your lips while trying to buck your hips into his touch but he suddenly stops with a harsh slap to your outer thigh which has you whining at the loss of stimulation.

“I want words cheeks and look at me when I’m talking to you” you don’t remember closing your eyes but you open them not surprised to see toji looking up at you from between your legs with a slick covered smile. a few seconds pass without your reply so he pinches your clit in warning and you quickly remember what else he wanted “fuck- yes it feels so fucking good please don’t stop” seemingly satisfied with your response he releases his hold on you and presses a kiss to your clit as if it’s an apology. “there we go. keep makin 'em pretty noises for me and I won’t have to check in so often”

a sudden movement behind you almost causes you to jolt in surprise, in one swift movement your hands are pinned above your head and your vision of toji is obscured by geto’s thighs straddling your chest, looking up to see him smiling at you. his hair frames his face as he looks down at you and he swiftly ties his hair into a bun at the back of his head. from this angle you're faced nearly directly under the swelling in his pants and you're slowly catching onto the meaning of toji's words. "don't look so surprised, this is what you said you wanted isn't it. i'm just giving you what you asked for"

geto's words remind you that even though his smile may look sweet and harmless he's just as cunning as the other two, he’s just able to hide it well. you're pulled out of your thoughts when geto starts to pull down his waistband, lowering it just underneath his balls. feeling it was one thing but seeing it right in front of you makes you worry for the state of your throat after he's done with you. at first glance you can tell that it'll be a mouthful, thick and girthy. geto’s hands gently lift you head from it’s position and your brought out of your thoughts.

"open nice and wide for me" you follow his words without question and two things happen at the same time. one, geto thrusts as much of his cock as he can down your throat causing your throat to constrict around him as you try not to choke and struggle to breathe at the same time. simultaneously toji decides at that exact moment to lick a stipe up your pussy to collect all of yours and his mess on his tongue, laying his tongue flat on your pussy only for it all to dribble back out his mouth creating an even wetter mess. “sounds like you’re having fun over there” gojo taunts.

both motions leave you spluttering around geto's cock and your legs threaten to close around toji's head despite the firm hold he has on them and you can hear gojo’s sardonic laugh in the background. tears begin to well in your eyes until geto taps your cheek to get your attention. “princess, breathe through your nose” you cant help but notice his voice comes out near strained and you hope you’re the reason for it. following his instructions you find that you can actually breath better though you still struggle a bit “isn't that much better?” you let out an appreciative hum and his response is immediate.

your just barely able to make out the small tensing of his abdomen through his shirt however you do feel the way his cock pulses down your throat as you try to maintain a steady breathing pattern. “told you you could take it” your lured into a false sense of security when geto slowly starts to pull back out of your throat only by a couple inches before he practically plunges back in, throwing your breathing off balance again however you remember his advice and try to regain composer as he waits for you. “such a good girl, taking me so well” he praises and you can feel tears begin to well in your eyes.

just when your able to control your breathing again toji agrees with him and his response is short hum into your pussy, which vibrations straight to you core. you had forgotten he was there with how consistent he’s been. as if before had only been a warm up he begins to lap hungrily at your pussy, letting his tongue edge slightly into you as if to tease you. instead of holding your legs apart like before he leaves them to clamp firmly around his head as you slowly try rock your hips into his face as much as you can but he holds you down by your hips “stop fucking moving and let me take care of you”

you hips still at his command and he presses a kiss to your pussy, causing your legs to tense from the feather like touch. “‘s like she’s eager to get her holes stuffed ” gojo snorts from the side of the room. you let out a whine of protest that gets swallowed by geto’s cock and he looks down at you with a disapproving face. “don’t lie to us sweet cheeks” toji bites into the flesh of your thigh and you feels the tears fall rolling down the side of your face from the sting of his teeth digging into your leg. you soon realise denying anything won’t get you anywhere as all motion stops around you.

“that won’t do will it,” geto stars to ease his way out of your mouth “if you’re not eager to be filled then I guess we can wait for the others to get here before we continue then” you hear gojo laugh out from the side of the room “seems like it’s gonna be at least another ten minutes before they all get her, sure you can wait that long princess?” they should know the answer to that question already but you know they won’t be satisfied until they hear it from your mouth. “let her speak” knew it. geto pulls out completely and you can feel the strain in your jaw from having it stretched for so long.

your throat feels raw and a bit too empty without geto occupying it but you push the feeling down so that you can respond before they begin to grow impatient. “please don’t make me wait,” you raise yourself onto your elbows, leaving your face mere centimeters away from geto's dripping tip and look over to gojo “I’m sure if they really wanted to be here they would make an effort to get here faster. so if they miss anything it’s their loss” toji strokes your thigh seemingly pleased with your answer “polite with an attitude, I like her. we might have to keep her” gojo lets out an agreeing hum.

“think she deserves a treat for bein such a good girl for us” before you can even begin to think about what the treat might be toji runs two fingers up your pussy, collecting all the wet mess. you can only assume that he sucks it into his mouth when you hear a pop sound after he removes his fingers from his mouth and your legs twitch again at the stimulation. only a second later does geto begin to inch his cock back into your mouth, holding the sides of your head gently “such cute noises she’s makin for us” geto agrees with a hum as he comes to a halt when he feels your throat close around him.

it’s only then do you realise that the soft mewls and whimpers that you’re hearing are coming from your mouth that’s wrapped around geto’s cock. “since I know you’re begging to be fucked, i’ll do ya a favor "your legs fall back onto the bed when toji rises from his position between your legs “toru come over here and open her up” in the corner of your eye you see gojo hop up with glee jumping almost too eagerly onto the bed, using his hand to practically shove toji out of the way. geto seems to be ignoring their interactions in favor of teasing his cock down your throat with shallow thrusts.

you can tell that he’s holding back from choking you with his cock from the concentrated look on his face as well as the fact that he’s not reaching nearly as deep as he was before. “that’s it. nice and easy” his soft spoken words soothe your nerves however it’s a futile attempt, as without warning gojo slides a nimble finger into you with little resistance and you can feel as his second knuckle breaches your entrance. the stretch of his finger has your throat sporadically closing around geto's cock which causes his concentration slips as his hips stutter, forcing his cock down your throat.

“s-shit sorry” he apologises while wiping tears that fall from you eyes as gojo slides in another finger, pushing in all the way to his knuckles. geto slowly eases his cock out of your throat allowing you to take in a few breaths of air loosening his grip on your hair. “don’t apologise to her,” your eyes dart to the side where you watch toji lazily stroking his cock until gojo curls his fingers and your eyes shoot upwards to geto who is letting out soft breaths while he massages his cock. “remember she said she could take it,” there's a sadistic undertone in his voice when he says “I’m sure she’ll be fine”

gojo repeats the motion and you let out a loud wail and your back fails to arch off the bed with geto’s weight on top of you “she’s squeezing me real tight down here, bet she likes it when you’re rough with her, isn't that right” it’s impossible to respond with how deep geto is now lodged down your throat. “you’re not gonna answer me cutie?” you knows he’s taunting you and you’re sure he’s smirking when he presses his thumb on your clit waiting for a response. your issue is resolved when geto’s pulls you off his cock and your head drops back down onto the pillow and your response is practically immediate.

“yesyesyes- fuck, it feels so good don’t stop” your eyes are a bit glossy from the few tears you shed earlier but you're still able to make out the rise in the corners of geto's lips while he looks down at your disheveled face. he adds insult to injury by rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips, letting his cockhead slightly slip but not fully teasing both himself and you in the process only making bigger mess of your face when it passes the corner of your lips and onto your cheeks. "sorry didn't mean to make such a mess, s'shame you can't clean it yourself." you know the apology’s fake but accept it anyway.

you would try to protest but gojo's relentless assault on your cunt prevents your mouth from making any coherent sounds other than what they can only presume to be his name. "want someone else to clean it up for you princess?" you know that it's futile to speak with geto's cock head laying heavy on the tip of you tongue so you lazily nod your head hoping that it's an accepted answer, in the process you also coat geto's cock with more of you saliva. yet before geto can even acknowledge your answer toji rises from his spot with pace and purpose in his steps. "i'll help ya out, move back"

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

end note ✰ I didn’t want the note to take up too much space but I talk quite a bit so here's an end note ;p. who do you guys want to join next { i might make a poll}? it’s already a challenge to give four people things to do at the same time idk how im going to manage seven.

✰ taglist ✰ @lik0 @yaygurist @dvarlinggg @valleydoli @yeet-ur-feet @silkija @nuggetalli @zillahgocrazy @satoryaa @yaya4thawin @nowhoremones @yeetlixs @happy2delivur @heliumshorns @chocopuchino @luvv4lurd @sorceira @maniaerodesi @chysalxsm @cobraisveryhorny @servalswifey @chrissysblog @futureittomainn @zacatecanaaaa @ichikanu @ameeeeeliie @bluupen @prettybakerswife @blankwashed @klumrine @chadychadyy2k @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @dl-yum @jalepp @kibananya @jjksimp3579 @xemmysblog @shawnberry @bleachisfood @barryatsumu @zennyxxy @dyeforkenma @bloomingheartss @sousblogga @alluresenses @zwmbizz @queenkassradite @dawnhero @xthatpottahfanx @loavibeycipoosan

[voyter]

LOVENOTES ! ... valentines special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

trying your hardest to avoid valentine’s day, you suddenly find yourself at the center of it when a secret admirer starts leaving notes at your door.

word count. 5.2k words warnings. neighbor au. secret admirer koo (hes giving stalker a little more ngl). wrote this while on my period so if reader sounds like a moody bitch you know why. me highkey lowkey channeling my hatred for valentines day in this. pure filthy smut. protected sex. blowjob. titty fuck !! COWGIRL YEEHAW !! kinda subby jungkook (BACK TO MY ROOTS). kinda dom reader.

ana’s notes. happy valentines day xx !! wrote this one in a few days so its short and sweet (also rushed it so i can get back to my other stuff oops). hope she is still somewhat enjoyable .. heh. keep your comments positive or say nothing at all, besos my babies !!

You hated February.

Maybe it was because you were utterly single. Or maybe it was the bitterness that still lingered after all these years. Your last relationship had ended just days before Valentine's Day, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart and a newfound hatred for the most romantic month of the year.

You despised the store displays overflowing with pink and red, the obnoxious heart shaped balloons, the overpriced bouquets of roses, and the sickly sweet scent of chocolates that seemed to mock you at every turn. Love was everywhere — except in your life.

You fucking hated February!

February 10th, 4 days before Valentine’s Day.

“Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook, your cute neighbor, lived in the apartment across from yours. You weren't exactly close, but there was an unspoken familiarity between you, built on polite greetings and the occasional small talk. He was the only person near your age on this floor otherwise occupied by older residents, making your interactions feel practically inevitable.

"Hey," he greeted back, glancing over his shoulder as he jiggled his key into the lock. "How've you been?"

His voice was warm, casual, like he wasn't in a rush to disappear behind his door just yet.

"I'm good. Haven't been doing much but working," you say, fiddling with your keyring in search of the right one.

Jungkook chuckles, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, same. Feels like that’s all I do lately." Work had been wearing him down too — you could see it in the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he rolled his neck like he was trying to shake off the tension.

"Ugh, tell me about it," you groan, exhaling dramatically. "What about you? How are you? How's Bam?"

"We're good, yeah," he says, perking up slightly at the mention of his dog. "He just goes to daycare while l'm at work, so he surprises me when he actually listens well.”

"How cute!" you exclaim. "Your baby's growing up so fast."

"Stop," he whines dramatically. "He's gonna be my baby forever."

You giggle, finally finding the key you were searching for and sliding it into the lock. As you turn it, Jungkook shifts on his feet, hesitating for just a moment before his mouth betrays him.

"Hey, you doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

The question lingers in the air, casual yet hesitant, like he hadn't really planned to ask it. His gaze flickers to you, gauging your reaction, but you're too busy scrunching your nose in mild distaste as you push your door open.

"Not really my thing," you admit. "You?"

"Yeah, not my thing either," he chuckles breathily, looking down at his feet.

"No flowers or chocolates for either of us, huh?" you tease lightly.

Jungkook smirks, shaking his head. "Guess not."

You step inside, gripping the edge of the door. "See you later, Jungkook."

"See you," he says with a smile, just before you shut your door.

With a deep exhale, you toss your keys and purse onto the kitchen counter, the weight of the day settling into your shoulders as you slip off your heels. The relief is instant, but the irritation still lingers.

Why was everyone so obsessed with Valentine's Day? The heart shaped decorations, the endless conversations about sappy plans and gifts — it was exhausting.

Fuck Valentine's Day. Fuck February.

You groan, running a hand down your face. All you wanted was to get through the month without being constantly reminded of how single you were.

Was that too much to ask?

February 11th, 3 days before Valentine’s Day.

Work ends the next day — neither good nor bad. It just ends. The hours blur together, another day checked off the calendar. But the one thing you are sure of? You’re more than ready to get out of this pencil skirt and heels and sink into a nice, warm bubble bath.  

The elevator ride up to your floor is quiet, and you shuffle toward your apartment, already mentally unwinding. But something stops you in your tracks.  

A bouquet of roses sits on the ground in front of your door, deep red petals almost glowing against the dull hallway lighting. An envelope rests beside it.  

Flowers for you. – Ian

Ian… 

You stare at the note, brows furrowing. There was no one named Ian that you knew. No one on this floor by that name either — at least, not that you were aware of. And you weren’t in the mood for some weird mystery admirer situation. You turn it over as if more context might magically appear. But there’s nothing — no last name, no explanation, just those three little words.

With a huff, you unlock your door and step inside, kicking off your heels with a sigh of relief the second you're through. The roses are still clutched in your hand, their scent lingering in the air, but you don’t bother appreciating them. Maybe these were sent to the wrong door. Some poor soul was probably expecting a grand romantic gesture, and now their flowers were here, at your feet.  

Not your problem.  

You glance at the bouquet one last time before scooping it up and marching straight to the trash can. With zero hesitation, you drop the roses inside.

Sorry to whoever was supposed to receive them — should’ve given Ian the right apartment number.

February 12th, 2 days before Valentine’s Day.

Just like yesterday, something was lying by your door. This time, a box of chocolates.  

After just coming back from the gym, sweaty and exhausted, you were just as over this as you were yesterday. If anything, it was even more annoying now.  

You sigh, scooping up the box and envelope before unlocking your door. The weight of exhaustion clings to your body, the post workout soreness settling in. You step inside, kicking the door shut behind you with more force than necessary, and set your keys and water bottle on the kitchen counter.  

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the envelope. You should shower. Eat something. Do literally anything else. But instead, curiosity — or maybe irritation — gets the better of you, and you rip open the note. 

The handwriting inside is neat, precise — almost too careful, like every letter was written with intention.  

Something sweet for someone even sweeter. – Ian

So… Ian was persistent.  

You scoff, grabbing the chocolates and tossing both the box and the note straight into the trash without a second thought. For all you knew, this person could've been a psycho, and you sure as hell weren't going to risk getting poisoned.

Shaking your head, you make your way to the bathroom, stripping off your gym clothes as you go. The hot water is already running by the time you step in, steam curling around you, but even as the warmth soothes your sore muscles, your mind keeps turning.

Who the hell is lan?

Maybe it was someone from a different floor. But that didn't explain how they knew exactly which apartment was yours.

No, whoever it was has been watching you.

February 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day.

It's different this time.

No chocolates. No bouquets. Just an envelope.

A single, unassuming envelope resting against your door like it had been waiting for you.

You grunt as you bend down, fingers hesitating for half a second before you rip it open, right there in the dimly lit hallway.

The answer is right in front of you. – lan

A slow, creeping unease washes over you. Your eyes flick up, scanning the hallway, suddenly hyper aware of how empty it is. The silence feels heavier now, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly.

Right in front of you.

Your breath hitches as you turn your head, your gaze landing on the only thing in front of you.

Jungkook's door.

No fucking way.

You hesitate.

You could just pretend you never figured it out. Walk inside, close the door, and let Jungkook keep thinking you were oblivious. Maybe it would be easier that way — to let him stew in his own nerves, to pretend you were just some ditsy neighbor who never connected the dots.

But he was cute. So, so cute.

And that was enough to make you lift your hand and knock.

The door swings open within seconds, like he'd been waiting on the other side.

Jungkook blinks at you, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

"It's you," you say, holding up the note between your fingers.

A breathy laugh escapes him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

He'd been watching you through the peephole this whole time, waiting.

Jungkook practically knew your schedule — when you left for work, when you got back, the perfect window to sneak out, place his little surprises by your door, and disappear before you could ever catch him in the act.

It was him. All this time.

Jungkook was Ian.

You stare at him, expression unreadable as he leans casually against the doorway, a lazy, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"Thought you'd never figure it out," he says, eyes flickering to the note still pinched between your fingers. "Had to give you a clue."

"How was I supposed to know it was you?!" you exclaim, waving the note in his face. "And what's the deal with lan?"

Jungkook leans against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. "Fake name," he admits with a small smirk. "Thought it'd be fun. Didn't realize you were this clueless, though."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Well, sorry I was too busy thinking I had some creepy stalker to suspect it was my neighbor."

His smirk falters slightly, and he scrunches his nose. "Right... yeah, that part wasn't my best move." He shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I apologize on my behalf. I probably should've kept the letters a little less terrifying."

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, you think?"

Jungkook grins, tilting his head slightly. "But now that you know it's me... can I ask again what you're doing tomorrow?"

You smile, a little too amused. Girly, even. "I told you, Jungkook. Not really my thing."

He exhales dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like you've just wounded him. "How can I make it your thing?"

You bite back a laugh, shaking your head as you turn on your heel and walk toward your door. “Goodnight, Jungkook."

"Really?" he asks, almost desperately.

You pause at your door, glancing at him over your shoulder. "My favorite flowers are lilies," you say simply, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

Jungkook watches you, lips parting slightly like he wasn't expecting that answer. Then, he exhales a quiet laugh, tonguing his cheek. "You're unbelievable."

You shrug, a satisfied little smirk in place. And with that, you slip inside, shutting the door behind you — leaving him standing there, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time, February didn't seem so awful.

February 14th, Valentine’s Day.

You woke up today not absolutely hating it. Which was crazy. Because usually, the moment you remembered it was Valentine's Day, you'd launch into an internal monologue about how stupid, overhyped, and downright annoying this holiday was.

But today? Today was different.

You'd gotten dressed with a little more care, taken your time with your makeup, and even picked out a cute outfit. Now, in the kitchen, seamlessly baking cookies, you spot something slip beneath your apartment door.

Your lips twitch into a smile.

Quickly, you set the pan on the stove, turning off the oven before rushing over. You scoop up the envelope, fingers tearing it open with far more excitement than the past few days.

Your heart does a little flip as your eyes scan the words inside.

Be my Valentine? – Jungkook

Squealing, you completely neglect the cookies as you rush to his apartment. You barely wait a second after knocking twice before the door swings open.

Jungkook stands there, dressed simply — jeans and a shirt — but his hair is styled, and in his hands, he holds a bouquet of pink lilies.

His smile is boyish, teasing. "Yes?"

You beam at him, heart racing. "Yes." You take a step closer. "Yes, yes, yes.'

And then, before you can overthink it, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him.

Jungkook grins against your lips, pecking them once more before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are warm, filled with something soft, something you think you could get used to.

"Come," he says, lacing his fingers with yours. "I wanna show you something."

He sets the lilies down on the counter, just for a moment, before taking your hand again and leading you down the hallway of his apartment. The quiet hum of the space feels different now — charged with something exciting, something you didn't expect.

He stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a room that takes your breath away.

Rose petals scatter across the floor, leading to the bed. The curtains are shut, dimming the room into a soft, intimate glow. Candlelight flickers from every corner, casting warm, golden shadows on the walls.

It's romantic in a way that feels like it could be a dream, but it's real. And it's all for you.

"I would've never pegged you for the romantic type," you tease, your smile playful as you look up at him.

He smirks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try..." he says, almost shyly.

He sounds humble, as if he hadn't spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect — setting up every little detail, making sure nothing was out of place. Even dropping off Bam at his brother's house so there'd be no distractions.

Your smile deepens, and you reach for his hand, gently pulling him toward the bed. "Well, I'm glad you did."

As you guide him closer, your heart beats a little faster. The room feels smaller now, with just the two of you in it, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows that make everything seem more intimate.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes darkening with desire, a playful curve to his lips as he watches you.

You nod, humming in response, your fingers lightly brushing his chest before you gently push him to sit on the bed. His hands rest on the mattress, steadying himself as he looks up at you, his gaze almost too intense — wide eyes, glossy with something hungry and eager, like a desperate puppy awaiting a command.

"I think you deserve something in return, don't you think?" you ask, your voice dripping with sweetness and something more, something sultry.

His breath hitches, a nervous tension creeping into his expression as he stutters, "W- we don't have to..." His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, a mix of hesitation and desire.

You smirk, moving closer, your fingers grazing along the fabric of his shirt. "Oh, come on..." you press, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath on his skin. "Don't you wanna open your present?"

His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see his resolve starting to crumble. The space between you feels charged, and with that one simple question, everything shifts.

You grab his hand, guiding it to the hem of your slip dress, your fingers curling over his as you urge him to pull it up. His breath hitches, and he obeys without hesitation, dragging the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your thighs inch by inch. With your help, the dress finally slips over your head and pools at your feet, forgotten. Your breasts bounce slightly in the confines of your red lingerie, the delicate lace pressing against your flushed skin, a sinful contrast that has his gaze darkening with desire.

You climb onto his lap, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of him. His hands settle gently on your thighs, warm and steady, but you want more. Grabbing his wrists, you guide them lower, pressing his palms firmly against the curve of your ass.  

"Go ahead," you whisper, lips brushing his ear. "I'm all yours."  

A low moan slips from his mouth as his grip tightens. His fingers trail upward, skimming the curve of your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra. With practiced ease, he unhooks it, the straps slipping from your shoulders as the lace falls slack against your skin. You slide it off completely and toss it aside, where it joins the heap of your discarded dress.

"You're so pretty," he breathes, almost whining, his voice dripping with desperation. His fingers flex against your bare skin, and before you can respond, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss.  

It’s all heat and urgency — the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands roam, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch you first. His grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the way his heart pounds just as wildly as yours.

Suddenly, you're slipping off his lap, sinking gracefully to your knees in front of him. His breath hitches, eyes dark with anticipation as he watches you settle between his legs.  

Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. Down, past his firm abs, until you reach his belt. You toy with the buckle, teasing, letting your nails scrape lightly against the leather before you start to undo it, dragging out the moment just to see him squirm.

You make quick work of his belt, unfastening it with a deliberate slowness that has him shifting in anticipation. Then, you tug at his jeans, dragging them down along with his boxers in one smooth motion.  

The moment he's freed, his cock springs up, thick and aching, the tip flushed and already leaking. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, his hands gripping the sheets like he’s barely holding himself together.

His cock is so pretty — long, thick, and flushed a deep, needy red. It twitches under your gaze, and you swear you hear him let out the softest whimper.  

Since you had the audacity to throw away his roses and chocolates, it’s only fair you make it up to him. And what better way than giving him a night to remember?  

You start slow, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling the heat of him pulse against your palm. Your thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the precum before you lean in, lips barely grazing him. Then, with a teasing flick of your tongue, you kitten lick the head, tasting him, savoring the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You take him deeper, your lips stretching around his thickness as you sink down slowly, inch by inch. The weight of him on your tongue makes your thighs clench, and the deep groan he lets out only fuels the heat pooling in your belly.  

His hands fly to your hair, fingers threading through the strands before he gathers them into a makeshift ponytail. He tugs just enough to make you hum around him, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.  

"Ah fuck," he breathes, his grip tightening, his hips twitching like he’s holding back from thrusting deeper.

You take him in until you reach your limit, his tip pressing against the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe through your nose, adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. Then, with a deliberate squeeze of your throat, you swallow around him.  

The reaction is immediate — his whole body jolts, a shudder running through him as a deep, broken moan spills from his lips. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip almost desperate as he fights the urge to push deeper.  

You bob your head a few more times, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him in deep before pulling off with a wet pop. A thin string of spit connects your lips to his flushed tip, and without breaking eye contact, you let it drip onto his cock.  

Wrapping your hand around his slick shaft, you start stroking him, slow and deliberate. The obscene, squelchy sounds echo in the room, mixing with his sharp breaths. His cheeks and ears burn crimson under the dim lighting, and when his hooded eyes finally meet yours, they’re filled with nothing but pure admiration — and need.  

Shifting on your knees, you move closer, the heat of his body radiating against your own. Then, without warning, you do something that catches him completely off guard.  

You grab your breasts, cupping the soft flesh in your hands, and press them together as you lean down, sliding his cock right between them.  

“Oh, gosh,” he moans breathily, his head falling back. His hands grip the sheets beneath him, knuckles turning white as he struggles to ground himself.  

A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips. “You like this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you press your breasts tighter around his cock, moving up and down to create that delicious friction.  

His chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Yes,” he moans, voice rough, almost wrecked. “Fuckin’ love it.”  

His eyes flicker down, hooded and heavy with desire, watching intently as your perfectly manicured fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, pressing them tighter around his cock. The way he glides so easily between them, warm and slick, like he was made to be there — it’s intoxicating. Addictive. And he never wants it to end.  

His breath stutters, his chest rising and falling in ragged pants as he forces himself to keep watching, to burn the image of you into his memory. Every sinful, wet glide. Every soft squeeze of your hands. It’s too fucking good.  

Then, his control begins to slip. His hips twitch, then jerk, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him, unable to hold back any longer. The spark of restraint he’d been holding onto is thinning, unraveling fast, and now he’s moving on pure instinct, desperate for more. His palms press into the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets as his hips start moving, bucking up into the tight warmth of your breasts. It’s slow at first, a gentle roll of his hips, as if he’s savoring the feeling of your soft skin gliding around him.  

But he’s losing himself, second after second. His restraint is slipping, his movements growing more desperate, more needy. The slick sounds of his cock sliding between your tits fill the room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the occasional shaky moan that escapes his lips.  

“You wanna cum?” you ask, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes — such a contrast to the sinful way you’re working him.  

“Yes!” he blurts out, voice strained and desperate. His grip on the sheets tightens, his hips jerking up a little harder, chasing the friction. “So fucking bad!”  

His chest heaves, abs flexing with each ragged breath as he watches you, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s right there — at the brink of his release, barely holding on, waiting for you to give him permission to fall apart.

But you don’t let him.  

Instead, you pull away, leaving him aching, throbbing, desperate. A strangled whine escapes his lips as his cock twitches in the empty space where your warmth once surrounded him. His hands flex against the sheets, like he wants to grab you, to pull you back, to demand you finish what you started.  

But before he can, you rise to your feet and climb back onto his lap, your lips crashing into his in a searing, breath stealing kiss. He groans into your mouth, rough and frustrated, his hands immediately finding your hips, gripping them so tightly you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.  

He’s all anguish, all need, kissing you like he’s trying to take back the pleasure you just ripped away from him. His tongue is desperate, his teeth grazing your lips, his hips bucking up into you on pure instinct. He’s losing his mind, and you love every second of it.

You grab the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin before tugging it up and over his head. He barely hesitates, lifting his arms to help you before tossing it aside, letting it join the mess of discarded clothes on the floor.  

With a frustrated grunt, he kicks off his jeans completely, leaving him bare and exposed, his cock still aching, flushed, and desperate for relief. His eyes stay locked on you, dark and heavy with lust as he shifts back onto the bed, settling against the pillows.  

You strip yourself from your panties before you climb onto the bed, straddling him with ease, your thighs bracketing his waist. His cock, hard and heavy, nudges against your thigh, smearing precum against your flushed skin.  

“Condom?” you ask.  

Without hesitation, he reaches over to his nightstand, yanking the drawer open. His movements are hurried, almost frantic, as he grabs a foil packet from the box inside. The crinkle of the wrapper fills the space between you as he rips it open with his teeth, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, dark and filled with anticipation.

He rolls the condom just over the tip, his breath shaky, but before he can finish, you take over. Your fingers brush against his as you grasp the base of his cock, sliding the latex down slowly, teasingly, making sure it fits snugly around his thick length.  

Then, with a steadying breath, you adjust yourself over him, holding his cock by the base as you position yourself just right. The anticipation is thick in the air, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin — though you both know he’s barely holding himself together. Slowly, you sink down, taking him inch by inch, feeling the way he stretches you open. The delicious burn has you both gasping, your breath hitching as pleasure overtakes you. Beneath you, Jungkook moans, his jaw clenched as he fights to keep control, his fingers pressing bruising marks into your hips.  

Your hands find their way on his broad, sweaty chest, fingers splayed across his firm muscles as you start to move. Lifting up just enough before sinking back down, rolling your hips in a way that has him cursing under his breath.  

As the stretch becomes more comfortable and your pussy grows wetter, the glide becomes effortless, letting you move with ease. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mingling with both of your breathy moans.  

You start bouncing faster, your rhythm picking up with each passing second. His cock drags against your walls just right, hitting that spot that makes your back arch, your nails digging into his chest.  

“You’re so fuckin’ big, baby,” you moan, your voice breaking with every bounce, pleasure shooting through you with each movement.  

Beneath you, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh — flustered, shy even. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as if your words are too much for him to handle. He doesn’t say anything back, just exhales shakily, completely overwhelmed by the way you feel wrapped around him.  

You push yourself up from his chest, hands moving behind you to plant firmly on his thighs, changing the angle. The shift makes everything deeper, makes his cock hit spots that have your head tilting back, a sharp moan escaping your lips.  

His hands roam up your waist, his fingers spreading wide as they slide up to your tits. He palms them with reverence, his touch almost hesitant at first, before he gives in, squeezing, kneading, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples. His breath stutters beneath you, his head pressing back into the pillows, completely lost in the way you feel.

One of his hands slowly makes its way down, his fingers grazing over your stomach before his thumb finds your clit. The first touch is gentle, testing, but when he feels the way you shudder above him, the way your walls flutter around his cock, he starts rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves.  

A sharp gasp escapes you, your thighs trembling as the pleasure intensifies. “Jungkook-” you whimper, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as your movements start getting sloppy, more frantic.  

He just watches you, completely mesmerized. His breath is ragged, his brows drawn together in pure concentration as he works you closer to your high, his thumb pressing down a little harder, rubbing faster, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your bouncing.  

His cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside you, and with his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit, the pleasure swells uncontrollably. It’s too much — all consuming, dizzying, rushing over you faster than you expected.  

Sensing the closeness of your release, Jungkook plants his feet against the mattress, gripping your waist tighter as he thrusts up into you. His pace stutters, his hips snapping up with more urgency as he nears his own breaking point, chasing the same high that you were.

At that exact moment, you clench tightly around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, intense and electrifying. It’s as if everything pulses in rhythm, the shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you. At the same time, he’s driven to the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting deep inside the condom, his body trembling as his release mixes with yours.

You both ride out your highs, your bodies trembling together as the room fills with your breathy moans, the sound thick with pleasure. Each shudder, each gasp, echoes in the stillness, a shared moment of pure connection and release.

Once the pleasure starts to subside, you gently pull yourself off of Jungkook’s softening cock, settling beside him. He removes the condom with a quick, practiced motion, tying it up before tossing it into the trash beside his nightstand. With a soft sigh, he reclines back, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your chest. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly massaging his scalp as the two of you linger in the quiet, comfortable warmth of each other’s embrace.

“Thank you for today,” you say softly, your voice laced with gratitude.

Jungkook lifts his head from your chest, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His smirk is playful as he teases, “Is it your thing now? Or should I have Ian sending you flowers and letters every year from now on?”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Maybe have Jungkook send them instead, yeah?”

He hums in thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Noted,” he says with a grin before leaning in, capturing your lips in another sweet kiss. He pulls back slightly, a playful spark in his gaze. “So, how about dinner and a movie?”

You sit up, a teasing smile forming as you push him back by his chest, then straddle him once more. You lean down, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “I was thinking maybe round two.”

He chuckles, a low sound of amusement escaping him as his hand reaches for another condom in the drawer. A playful glint dances in his eyes as he prepares for what’s to come.

Oh yeah, Valentine’s Day was most definitely your thing now.

© voyter 2025, all rights reserved.

[squiddy-god]

♡Will you be my valentine?♡

lads x reader

Hehehehe ok ok so i would like to say, keep in mind this is mostly based in american valentines day and not valentines/white day so i tried to mix them, but i'll do white day too. I might make some more spicy hcs later  

Cw ; fluff, gn reader (still mc but written to be inclusive), use of pet names, jealousy, possessiveness. Use of the word “bride” but in a gn way? If you know you know. Use of y/n because what else am i supposed to use?? Caleb slander in zayne’s part vice versa. Xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb 

Xavier 

No 

He is not asking to be your valentine, you ARE his valentine and he makes that known so immediately 

The month of february hits and he sees you watching those videos of people sad their partner hasnt asked them to be their valentine and he just goes “good thing you are my valentine” 

Don't correct him and say he hasn't asked

You. are.

I can absolutely see him getting you one of those teddybears with a heart or some other stuffed animal for the holiday but he is immediately beefing

He has beef with the STUFFY HE GOT YOU. 

On a side note i think he 100% is the type to get jealous over your plushies “why do you get to sleep in their bed and i don't?” those snuggles are HIS and he won't share 

If you make him chocolate he is on cloud 9, not only does he get a snack but also its from you and means he's special~

Now if you receive chocolates from someone? Some secret admirer? He is melting those sweets with his gaze- he wants them in the trash 5 seconds ago 

I think he would get you one of those softer springtime bouquets, i feel like it just fits him more 

Zayne 

He is STRUGGLING 

I think he would ask the night before, asking if you'd like to go on a date since it is a special occasion

Based on his 100 days texts he seems like the type who even if it doesn't seem like it holds holidays like this in a surprisingly high regard. So i think he would ask if you would like to be his valentine 

Hehe milkshake date with zayne, one of the cute cheesy ones with the heart straws 

Big fan of the sweets, usually rejects any attempts to give him chocolates but for you he feels himself almost anticipating it, and when it happens he savors them throughout the day 

I think he'd be the type to give you those elegant single roses 

I can also see that he REALLY wanted to be your valentine as a kid, with those chalky candy hearts and little kid cards, he always got one frome you and he kept all of them. Unfortunately there was a dirty mutt preventing him from actually being your childhood valentine 

If you receive chocolate from some kind of admirer he is a little put off, something about it simmers under his skin just a little bit, fortunately this is an easily curd ailment- the prescription of course being 20 doses of kisses. 

Rafayel 

He's lowkey waiting for YOU to ask HIM to be your valentine.

 And he will be pouting about it 

Feel like we don't talk enough about how the little fishie is lowkey a bit scary?? He sees this as the inevitable, you are his, his valentine, his love, his bride 

His fishie <3

When one of you finally cracks and asks the other to be your valentine he is very pleased with himself. 

Long walk on the beach, picnic by the shore where the salty air can kiss your skin 

If you give him chocolate he is scarfing it down high key. Probably plays the weak frail card complaining about how his wrist hurts so clearly you have to feed him 

I can see him getting you those rainbow rose bouquets or one with lots of different colored roses to make a soft but colorful bouquet. 

Now if you received chocolate from an admirer he is pouting 

Whining frfr 

Type to go “oh why don't you go eat THEIR chocolate?” this will either last all of 5 seconds before he is switching it up and demanding kisses as repayment for emotional damages or until you don't give in (5 second max) and he's back to being dramatic 

Don't be shocked if they go missing tho 

Sylus 

Sylus does not simply ask for you to be his valentine, he woos you 

The month of february is his month to shine truly, because it starts small, subtle. 

A flower here and there, a single rose or a little heart 

It's a few days before valentines day and he's thoroughly romanced you when he pulls you close using his evol to ask if you'd like to be his valentine 

The day itself consists of you waking up, bed? Covered in rose petals. Sylus? Holding one of those really big heart shaped rose bouquets made of the glitter roses everyone went crazy for. Then dinner followed by a joyride 

Cough cough the biggest teddy bear he could find in white. 

If you give him chocolates he's sooooooo pleased. Savors them throughout the day and next day thinking about you 

Like i mentioned the rose bouquet game is top tier, his whole house is full of them, every vase full of those deep red roses because he wasn't you to look over and think of him.

Drives you to some obscure far out location to watch the stars for a while, the ride obviously enjoyable but even more so is being in his arms for such a tender moment. 

Now if you receive chocolate from someone he is so so smug, sylus gives off the vibes of like “hmm yes i know my kitten is the best, obviously they cant help but be charmed”  

Caleb 

Hs been your valentine every year since childhood (the dirty mutt in question)  

But this year is the first year he's really going to be your valentine, where he doesn't have to pretend like he doesn't mean it with his whole chest 

That isn't stopping him from teasing you, he wants to get you to admit that you want him to be your valentine

But he is a weak man, and he crumbles at the slightest hint of puppy eyes or pouting 

He is asking you on feb 1st 12:02am to be his valentine  

On the day itself he wakes you up with breakfast, heart shaped pancakes, eggs and your preferred protein 

Definitely writing something like “be mine?” on those pancakes 

I think the bouquet he gives you is a very classic one, roses and baby's breath tied with a silky red ribbon 

If you give him chocolate he is like a excited puppy, he's always given you the chocolate he gets from others, and he's always gotten chocolate from you but this time is special this time it's real 

A cute little day date around the city so he can show off that he won. And it includes those matching built a bear with the voice box. “I love you” “Miss me pipsqueak?” “i'll be home soon, love you” “*smooch smooch smooch smooch noise*” “i miss you so much y/n” for your bear and his has “i love you” “miss you so much caleb” “waiting for you at home, love you” “*smooch smooch smooch smooch*” “we’ll be together soon” and you best believe he is going to be taking that bear with him and playing those lines again and again 

If you get chocolate from someone else he is laughing on the outside but internally it's just “bomb them, keep bombing them-” if he's there when you get them he is absolutely standing behind you ominously to glare down the poor soul trying to shoot their shot. He spent your childhood puppy guarding you from elsa he is not losing now

[ravens-bird]

Maybe, Meant to Be.

Pairing: Sylus x GN!Reader

Tags: Valentine's Day fic lol, fluff, love confession, first confession, established relationship, kitten. Nicknames used - Sweetie, Kitten.

wc: around 1k.

Note: So I'm back to crying over him... I blame today's Valentine's/Azure's Blessings Festival messages.

Inspired by This Fanart I found reuploaded on Pinterest.

You Don’t Know When It All Began. 

Was it when he first smiled at you — genuinely, without his usual sharpness? 

Was it when he pretended to be so bothered by a stray cat that gave birth outside one of his villas, yet still took in the only surviving kitten, placing it in a high place so it wouldn’t escape or, worse, get hurt?

Or maybe it was when he tried to comfort you when you were having a bad day, humming off-key, knowing it would make you smile?

Oh, or was it the moment he stepped in front of you during a wanderer attack, shielding you without hesitation — prioritising your safety over his own? 

Or perhaps it was all the times after that, when he wordlessly stepped in, guarding your back so you could focus on the fight, knowing he would keep you safe? 

Sylus may have brushed these off, claiming that it was nothing serious, but you knew. 

You knew that it was so much more. 

That you meant so much more to him than he let on. 

From grand gestures, like the time he won a boxing championship and dedicated the victory to you, slipping the ring symbolising his victory onto your finger as he announced that he won just for your sake.

To the small, simple ones. Adjusting your coat on chilly nights so you don’t get cold. Sending Mephisto or the twins to keep an eye on you when he couldn’t be there himself, especially when you insisted on running headfirst into danger. Reading an entire book about candy-making — mastering it, even — just so he could give you candy he made himself on Valentine’s Day. 

Even eating the accidentally ruined chocolate you had made while practicing. 

You don’t know when it all began. 

Maybe falling in love with Sylus had happened this way — a slow, steady trust building over time, until without realising it, you had let your guard down around him.

Piece by piece, you had given him fragments of your heart, never noticing how much of it he held. And by the time you did, you were already falling — headfirst, hoping he will catch you in his arms. 

And he did. Every time. Steadily. Unfailingly. 

Now, as he stands in front of you, holding a kitten in his arms, his gaze soft as the tiny creature nuzzled into his chest, his smile unguarded, there’s a warm, tingling feeling in your chest.

He hasn’t noticed the change in your expression, too busy entertaining the snuggly feline in his arms. But the only thing you can think is I love you. 

You don’t think he realizes it, and keeping it to yourself didn’t feel right.

So you say it.

“Sylus.”

“Hmm?” There’s a smile playing on his lips as he glances up, and the second he sees your expression, he blinks. “What’s wrong, Sweetie?”

Your lips twitch, and warmth blooms in your chest, spilling over as the words finally leave your mouth.

“I love you, Sylus.”

For a moment, he appears startled, caught off-guard. His eyebrows lift, his lips parting in surprise as he processes the words. 

But then, it changes. A slow, pleased smile spreads across his face, and the warmth in your chest spreads all the way to your fingertips as his cheeks tinge a faint pink. 

A rare sight. He appears almost bashful as he chuckles softly, saying the words that have you smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. 

“I love you too, Sweetie.”

You step closer, reaching to cradle his cheek, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. His skin is faintly warm under your touch, and though his blush has cooled, the pleased expression he's wearing tells you that you were right to tell him, after all. 

How else would you have seen him like this? 

You open your mouth to say something more, but before you can, a tiny paw presses against your chin, accompanied by a rather indignant meow that has you snapping out of the moment. 

You look down and notice the kitten squirming in his arms, clearly displeased about being trapped between the two of you. You laugh softly, instead reaching out to scratch behind its ears.

Sylus hums, amusement lacing his voice. "Where did that come from?" 

You shrug, giving the kitten’s tiny nose a light boop before looking at him again.

"Felt like telling you.” Your voice is light, honest. "Thought i should be upfront about my feelings."

Because you know he struggles with this — accepting love, believing he deserves it. That somewhere, deep down, he still wonders if happiness is something he’s allowed to have. You see it in the way he sometimes hesitates when you hold his hand, in the way he brushes off his own kindness like it’s nothing. 

But it’s not nothing. He’s not nothing. And if he won’t believe it himself, then you’ll just have to remind him, over and over, until he does. 

He chuckles again, shaking his head, but when he shifts the kitten to one arm, and takes your hand in another, giving it a gentle squeeze, you know he’s learning to believe it. 

“Your words are coated in honey, Kitten.”

He says it a touch teasingly, and you roll your eyes, reaching your free hand up to lightly pinch his cheek. His eyebrows lift, but he doesn’t move away. 

“Let’s go home, Sylus.”

He shrugs, fingers lacing through yours as you turn to walk together, the kitten nestling sleepily into the crook of his elbow.

And as you glance at Sylus, feeling the warmth of his touch, you think — This is it. This is exactly where I’m meant to be. 

Maybe, it was always meant to be.

Masterlist.

Divider from here.

[sapphiresaphics]

You’re right. It is polite to do that. But it’s also… I dunno… kinda boring? And it often doesn’t push the story forward.

Let’s look at it this way: We know that initially they planned on several additional seasons and ultimately were only given 2. We don’t know when that cut back was dictated to them from up on high, but it’s very easy to assume it happened sometime between season 1 and 2’s production. Very likely after most of season 1’s setup had already been finished and animated.

And, given how little time they had available to them for season 2, they opted instead to focus on ways to communicate this stuff non-verbally most of the time and to trust that we, as smart intelligent viewers, can piece together stuff ourselves.

They have a grand total of 18 episodes in total for this entire show. There are other shows that have double that number for just one season. Time is of the essence and every frame costs hundreds of dollars. So if it’s not really relevant it goes on the cutting room floor. Arcane is nothing if not EFFICIENT with its storytelling. And that’s a stylistic choice the creators have made.

And let’s not forget this doesn’t just exist around Caitlyn. Vi never apologizes for punching Powder as a kid. She apologizes for leaving and calling her a Jinx, but never for punching her. Vi also punches Isha. It’s an accident, but she still never apologizes for that either. Ekko never apologizes for kidnapping Vi and Caitlyn. Jinx never apologizes for killing Ekko’s friends. Jayce never apologizes for killing a child. Ambessa never apologizes for slapping Mel. Heimerdinger never apologizes for letting the undercity’s problems fester for so long. Mel never really apologizes for using Jayce and Viktor as investments. The list goes on. So WHY is it ONLY on Caitlyn in these critiques about the show?

A couple more little quibbles and distinctions:

Vi was never forced to become an enforcer. When Caitlyn asks her to become an enforcer, Vi turns her down. It’s not until after Caitlyn almost dies during the memorial attack does Vi reconsider the offer. And she doesn’t do it because she was pressured into it, she does it because she wants to keep Caitlyn safe. The only thing Vi trusts are her fists. If she’s there, she can take care of Jinx while also protecting the woman she loves. Even if it means putting on the Enforcer uniform.

Also, Vi doesn’t care about Zaun all that much. She never fought for the city. In fact, she has been actively hostile towards Zaun since Season 1. Let’s not forget that she went in performing vigilante Justice and got a kid killed in the process. Her goal has always been to protect her family, and that means people like Jinx and Caitlyn.

As for the “I’m sorry I was wrong?” Caitlyn DOES that. It’s just non-verbally. See, when Caitlyn has Jinx locked up she doesn’t know what to do with her. She has seen first hand that Jinx can be trusted. She is not the maniacal raving lunatic that killed her mother anymore. She has changed. She tries to talk to Jinx, but that doesn’t help her make a decision.

So she lets Vi choose. She intentionally leaves the prison empty of guards and allows Vi to steal the keys to free her sister. She has no guarantee that she will ever see Vi again, and she suspects that Vi and Jinx will just run away together. That’s why when she goes down there and finds Vi locked in the cell instead of Jinx, she knows what happened. And when Vi is at her lowest, thinking she betrayed Caitlyn by going behind her back to free Jinx against her wishes, Caitlyn tells her “no, I let you do this. Because I give up on hating your sister. You are more important to me than my hatred of Jinx and you should be free to make your own decisions about who you get to love.”

That’s WHY Vi jumps on Caitlyn in the prison cell. Caitlyn just told her that she was giving up stoking the flames of the fire that tore them apart. This is akin to a loved one giving up alcohol or smoking or going to therapy or basically tossing aside their abusive habits because their love for their partner is more important to them than their vices. That was like the BIGGEST apology Caitlyn could ever give Vi. No amount of “I’m sorry” does THAT justice.

I get it, you wanted her to SAY the words. But the show doesn’t do that. The show is a VISUAL show and ACTIONS speak louder than words ever could. So Arcane does Caitlyn’s apology through her actions. To assume the worst in Caitlyn after such a grand gesture is kinda silly IMO.

No disrespect, I just find a lot of this stuff to be kinda nitpicky. The show is a visual show. It tells its narrative visually. It always has. It always will. Demanding Caitlyn say “sorry” when no one else ever does and ignoring that she performs one of the greatest acts of love you could give a partner is frustrating to say the least.

“Caitlyn never apologizes for her actions so how do we know she’s remorseful of them?”

Well you see… when Caitlyn gets asked if she likes men or women by Vi, we never get an answer from Caitlyn there either. But then later in the episode we SEE her behaving differently and flirting with a woman. So that answers our question for us. We don’t need to hear her say “I’m a lesbian” or “I like girls” because the show SHOWS us that she likes girls.

Often times if you have a concern like this, it IS addressed in the show. Just not in blatantly obvious and vocal ways. You actually need to pay attention.

So like… yea, we don’t really hear Caitlyn say outright “I feel remorse for my actions” but there’s like a MOUNTAIN of evidence (Kirammountains worth haha) that show she feels this way. From her confrontational arguments with Ambessa, to her pointing a gun at singe, to her sneaking around tracking singe, to her betraying Ambessa, to her shouting “I know!” when confronted by Vi, to her saying to Jinx “hating you I’ve hated myself,” to her ultimately letting Vi free her sister thus proving to Vi that she’s letting her hatred for Jinx go, to her sad “are you still in this fight, Violet?” at the end of the show… using the context clues the characters provide through facial acting and body language we can TELL that she’s remorseful.

Imagine that!

[chleem]

are you taking requests?

Frat!Drew taking care of his sick gf ❤️‍🔥

⋆.˚ Warnings: fluff, swearing, making out, symptoms of fever mentioned, (still, read at own caution

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: okok i really enjoyed writing this one btw happy valentines!

word count: 4.7k

──── 𝜗𝜚 ─────

The door creaks open with a faint squeal, the unmistakable sound of keys jangling through the room. 

You peek from underneath your covers, and you see Drew, your boyfriend, coming into your dorm. It’s not surprising, since he always tends to drop by after his classes, knowing you’d be here. 

But today, you wish he wasn’t here. The last thing you want is for him to see you like this—sick, drained, and barely holding it together. 

And trust, you’ve seen yourself this morning, and you looked like a mess—felt like one too. Your hair’s tangled, face pale, and eyes heavy with exhaustion. The feverish sheen on your skin isn't helping either. 

Definitely not the best version of yourself, and you’d rather he didn’t see it.

He doesn’t seem to notice right away, his eyes lighting up when he spots you in bed. 

“Hey, babe,” he calls out, lazily dropping his bag on the chair, “I’ve got, lunch.”

You don’t even sit up, barely managing a faint smile. You should’ve at least looked excited, or at least, when he walked in, greet him. 

But the burning sensation in your throat prevents it, along with what felt like the sun riding your face.

Drew hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering over to you, before he puts the food down on the desk and moves toward you.

He’s quiet for a moment, brows furrowed with his smile fading, his eyes scanning over your features. The concern in his eyes overtakes the blue in them, and it’s like you can see every worry he has for you reflected there.

He mutters something under his breath, the realization sinking in. 

His hand comes in contact with your forehead, cold compared to it, “you’re, shit, burning up.”

Without another word, Drew stands up, moving towards your mini fridge. 

He pulls open the door, kneeling down to inspect its contents. You could only assume he’s getting something cold to press against your forehead. 

“Drew…” you choke out, your voice weak and strained. "I’m fine, I’m fine, really.”

You watch as he gets up with a cold water bottle in his hand, making his way back to you. 

“No, you’re not,” he says, his voice soft but firm. 

The bed creaks under Drew's weight as he sits down beside you. 

He raises his hand to press the bottle against your forehead, but with all the energy left inside of you, you move away.

“No—no, I—I don’t need…” you protest, your words shaky. 

You can see the way Drew has a little smirk forming on the corners of his mouth, like he finds this amusing, or cute, even. But that’s impossible, with how disgustingly sick you are right now. 

“Come here,” 

His other hand wraps around your wrist, attempting to pull you back in. 

“No-“

“Babe-"

“No,” you whine, trying to shake off the grip he has on you. It’s not tight, but it’s enough to make you feel like there’s no escaping his care. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, and with one final tug, you’re lying close next to him again, your body too tired to resist. 

He takes the cold bottle, pressing it to your forehead gently, the coolness almost immediately providing some relief from the heat that's been overwhelming you.

You flinch slightly at the contact, then slowly melt into it.

Drew's hand stays steady, a comforting presence you can’t deny even if you try. 

“How long have you been like this?”

“Just this morning,” you mutter, and you take his hand around your wrist, interlocking his fingers with yours, the simple act grounding you in the moment. 

Your attention drifts to the way his hands look around yours—rough yet soft.

“Didn’t even text me,” you hear him scold, his voice holding a touch of playful frustration. “Not even a call-“

“I can’t even sit up,” you excuse, your voice cracking slightly. 

His thumb moves absently over your knuckles, “y’know why- why you’re sick?”

You tear your eyes away from his hand, meeting the blue eyes of his. 

“Because of this small, small ass dorm,”

A playful smile tugs at his lips, his eyes teasing as they look down at you. You can’t help but smile too, having heard this from him many times before. 

You already know what Drew’s next lines will be-

“Y’know how much better my frat is,”

-and it makes you chuckle weakly.

Your hand comes up in an attempt to push him away, and it causes his signature deep, throaty laugh to escape him.

“I didn’t text because-“ a cough escapes you between words, “I look ugly right now.”

You watch the way Drew’s eyes settle on your face, lingering on every little detail, his mouth slightly open, as if he’s speechless, and for a moment, you almost forget that you’re sick.

“…you do,” he finally speaks up, after what felt like eternity, “look worse than ever.”

"Oh my god," you mutter, a smile on your lips. You make another attempt to push him away, that only brings him closer, his laughter low and genuine. “Get out-“

“Shhh,” he lightly coos, the smile wide on his lips, “y’know I don’t mind.”

"That's worse," you whisper, a pout forming on your lips as you look away from him. The warmth of his teasing makes your chest feel lighter, even as you try to act annoyed.

You hear him chuckle again, then you feel his hand leave yours. It rests gently on your chin, tilting your face back toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His eyes are softer now, the teasing giving way to something deeper, a tenderness that makes you feel seen in a way you didn’t expect.

“Y’know I don’t mind,” Drew repeats, this time more softer and, with a certain, almost promising tone in them. 

And with the way he's slowly leaning down, eyes locked into yours, lips parted, you know what’s going to happen next. 

For a split second, all you can focus on is the closeness, the warmth, the anticipation…

But then reality hits you.

“I’m sick,” you whisper, hand resting on his chest as you push against him, your face flushed not from the fever, but from the sudden rush of nerves.

Drew pauses, hovering just inches away from your lips, his breath warm on your skin. “I don’t care,” he murmurs, the need to kiss you obvious, as if it’ll physically harm him if he doesn’t do so. 

“I’m sick,” you repeat, eyes flickering to his lips. 

“Mhm,” he bites down on his lower lip, his hand gently cupping your cheek. 

You don’t even realize that he’s dropped the bottle that was against your forehead. 

“I’m sick, Drew,” your voice cracks, and you giggle, noticing how it cracked. 

“I missed you,” he suddenly confesses, his breath against your skin not as hot as the blush on your cheeks. 

The admission catches you off guard, but it melts something inside of you. 

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. It’s like an automatic response, one that brings him to lay gently on top of you, the pressure light.

“I’m sick,”

You repeat, for the thousandth time. 

“I’know,”

And just like that, Drew kisses you.

It’s gentle at first, like he’s testing the waters, a light brush of his lips against yours. But the more you let yourself melt into him, the deeper the kiss becomes, a massaging of tongues. 

Despite the burning, sickening feeling coursing through your veins, Drew’s kiss seemed like the cure. No, it was better than the cure itself. 

You could feel yourself go breathless, the arch of your back enough to prove how much you enjoyed this. 

Drew does too, a low groan escaping him. 

You could feel him shift above you, supposedly to bring his whole body onto the bed. 

Your legs instinctively spread underneath the covers, feeling one of his knees between them, then your hands threading through his hair. 

Drew’s lips trail down to your neck, leaving soft love bites that make your heart race. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, everything feels like a perfect moment.

But like all good things, it all comes to an end.

A cough erupts from you, deep and nasty, the kind that only old people seem capable of producing. It causes your entire body shake.

Drew’s movements come to a halt, his reaction buried into the nape of your neck. 

You could feel your face flush from embarrassment, your grip on his hair tightening. 

Then, slowly, he pulls up, his face inches from yours.

The way his blue eyes are looking at you, so close, it’s almost overwhelming.

“…sexy,” 

he says, a chuckle following after, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

You don’t even realize you’ve been frowning until laughter comes out of you. The sound surprises you, your chest lightening from his teasing and the absurdity of it all.

“Shit,” you say between laughs, your hands leaving his hair to cover your eyes. 

Drew watches you, his grin softening. He loves it when you laugh, especially if he’s the one that makes you laugh like that- genuine, free, and unburdened by everything else.

“Sexy, just my type,” he adds on, and you laugh even harder, despite the stinging in your head. 

“Oh my god,” you exhale, the words a mix of disbelief and amusement, as your laughter gradually comes to an end.

The sound of it lingers in the air for a moment, filling the space between you two.

You lightly push him off of you, and Drew lands on your small bed next to you with a soft chuckle, his body sinking into the mattress.

“I’ll fuck you even though-”

he starts, his voice teasing but with an underlying sincerity. 

The words are strange, but the way he says them makes you glance over at him, his body fully angled toward you, his arm tucked under his head. “-you’re dangerously sick.”

You shift your body to face him, mirroring the way he tucks his arm under his head.

“I wouldn’t,” you whisper back to him, eyes locking into his. 

He’s studying your features again- intensity in his eyes as he lingers a beat too long. 

“What?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“If you were me? Or if I was sick?”

“If I were you-“

“So if I was sick, would you fuck me-“

“What?”

“Yeah, if I was-“

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?” You chuckle, your lips curling into a playful grin, as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“God, now I feel stupid for saying that-“

Drew laughs, but you can tell he’s not really embarrassed. He doesn’t feel stupid for saying it. If anything, he’s being completely genuine and honest, even if the words were a little out of field.

“You’re stupid no matter what you say,” 

You tease, a chuckle following after. 

He doesn’t laugh. 

Instead, his gaze lingers on you, more intent than before. His eyes are gentle, yet there’s a depth to them that makes you feel like he’s seeing you in a way that’s more than just surface level. It’s clear he’s not joking anymore.

“…I guess I am,” he mumbles, almost like a whisper.

You can’t help but look at Drew the same way, taking in the way his hair falls messily around his face, the natural plumpness of his red lips, and blueness of his eyes.

“…yeah, you are,” you whisper, more to yourself. 

Your eyelids start to feel heavier, the exhaustion from being sick catching up to you. 

You let out a small yawn, knowing that you’re unable to fight the sleepiness anymore.

Your eyes flutter just enough to see Drew’s hand reach out, landing gently on your waist to pull you closer to his embrace. He wraps his arms around you, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. 

At that moment, you can feel yourself relax into the familiar scent of Drew. The steady rise and fall of his chest is soothing, and the sound of his heartbeat lulls you further into comfort.

A soft sigh escapes you as you finally let go, finding peace in the safety of his arms, letting the quiet of the moment carry you off into a restful, much-needed sleep.

——

hours later

You wake up slowly, a soft grogginess lingering in your mind as your room comes into focus. 

The bed feels a bit colder than before, and you blink a few times, confused at first.

You stretch your arms out, only to realize you’re spread across the bed, your body tangled in the covers. 

You also realize that Drew's missing, the entire warmth of him gone, and for a moment, panic flutters in your chest.

“Drew?” you murmur, your voice raspy and thick from sleep.

As you turn your head to look around, you finally spot him. 

He’s sitting beside your pillow, leaning back against the headboard. 

You blink again, a little surprised. 

He gives you a small smile, “hey sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but that’s when you feel the cool, almost damp cloth on your forehead. Your hand reaches up, and you tug at the cold bandage, frowning. “What?-“

“Cooling patch,” Drew says softly, a light chuckle escaping his lips at your reaction.

Your mind stirs as you process how he managed to get one, but before you could ask more, you feel one of his arms hook under against your boobs, pulling you to sit upright.

“Oh,” you giggle stupidly, noticing how effortlessly he does it.

Drew laughs too, and lets his hand rest there, his thumb gently rubbing small circles against your skin, his touch soothing.

His other hand reaches to your nightstand, and he hands you a glass of water. 

“Here,” he murmurs, glancing down at the cup as he holds it out.

You reach to take it, but just as your fingers touch the glass, his hand doesn’t let go. His fingers curl gently around yours, enveloping your hand as he guides the glass to your mouth.

You laugh softly at his persistence, feeling his warm touch around yours. His lips curl into a small, playful smile as you take a few sips, the cool water soothing your dry throat.

“Better?” he asks, his gaze soft and patient, still holding the cup for you.

“No,” you tease, a playful smirk tugging at your lips, though part of it is true. You still feel a bit off, but the way Drew is looking after you makes it all feel a little more bearable. 

His expression softens even more, a faint chuckle escaping him as he tilts his head slightly, “you want me to kiss you again?”

The sudden question catches you off-guard, your eyes widening. 

“Seemed to work earlier,” Drew adds, with a playful wink.

“Is that your cure for everything?” you tease back.

“Sadly, no,” he shakes his head, before planting a quick kiss to your temple, the warmth lingering there. “But, I do have this-“

He sets the cup on back on the nightstand, before leaning down to the floor, and your eyes follow his every move in anticipation. 

The sound of plastic bags rustling fills the air, and then, Drew pulls out the all-too-familiar packaging of that disgustingly, bitter fever medicine.

Your face scrunches up at the sight, the thought of it already making your stomach turn. “Ugh, seriously?” you laugh, already imagining the taste.

He smirks, holding it up like it's some sort of prize. “Yup,” he teases, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watches your reaction.

“You need to eat first, though,” Drew adds, and before you can protest, he leans down once more, rummaging through the plastic bag at his feet. 

This time, he pulls out a takeout box, different from the one he had earlier.

It hits you: so that's how he got everything. The medicine, the cooling patch, the food—it all makes sense now. He must've gone out to buy it all while you were still sleeping.

He carefully sets the box on your lap, smiling as he opens it to reveal fried rice, from your favorite Chinese place. Even through your clogged nose, you can smell the delicious taste of it. 

Your heart swells at the thoughtfulness of this man, your boyfriend. 

The way he’s gone out of his way to make sure you’re taken care of, to comfort you, and to help you feel better—despite everything, it’s like he’s always a step ahead.

You can't help but smile, and for a moment, you forget the sickness, simply basking in how lucky you are to have him by your side. 

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice laced with genuine appreciation. The smile on your lips tugs a little wider, and you look up at him, meeting his eyes, your gaze soft and filled with gratitude. 

It’s not just the food or the medicine, but the kindness behind it all. The quiet reassurance that, in moments like these, you’re not alone.

Drew’s mouth is slightly open, and he seems a little taken aback by your sincerity. He quickly shakes it off, almost shyly, the hand around you pulling at the fabric of your shirt. 

His voice is quiet as he murmurs, “It’s nothing… I told you, I've got you.”

His words hang in the air, and despite the simplicity of the statement, they resonate deeper than anything he could say.

You nod, whispering, "I know.”

As your eyes drift down to the food in your lap, a realization settles in for the both of you - you need utensils. 

“Fuck,” Drew chuckles softly. He leans down again, the soft rustle of plastic filling the silence before he effortlessly tears open the packaging with one hand.

He hands the chopsticks, and you take it, starting to eat. 

The familiar taste hits your tongue almost immediately, and you let out a small moan due to how good it is.

Drew watches you, his smile softening. “Good?” he asks, a hint of pride in his tone.

“Perfect,” you smile, his attention making you feel light. 

You laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder as you continue to eat, savoring both the meal and the comfort of his presence.

——

True to his word, he really does got you. 

Over the next few days, Drew was with you, stuck to you, almost. At least, whenever you were awake, he was there—by your side, ensuring you had everything you needed. 

Whether it was fetching you water, making sure you were comfortable, or just sitting beside you quietly scrolling his phone, he was always present.

Showering? Thankfully, your dorm had its own private bathroom, so Drew could help when needed. Whether it was holding you steady, washing your hair, or just sitting on the bathroom seat watching over you.

Meals? Takeout or deliveries. Drew made sure you ate, even when you didn’t feel like it.

And the medicine? Drew was strict about it. He made sure you took it on time, never missing a dose.

Last but not least, your class notes. You never quite figured out how he did it, but somehow, Drew had them. You’d notice a stack of neatly organized notebooks by your desk, or catch a glimpse of him typing away on his laptop. 

You knew you had to find a way to repay him for everything he’d done for you. It felt like a huge debt—which you would have to find a way to pay once you were back to full health.

The opportunity came sooner than you expected. 

Just two days after you started feeling better, you got a message from Drew—a photo of him lying in bed, looking completely miserable. 

He had that all-too-familiar expression on his face—exhausted, feverish, and looking like he’d just been hit by a truck. The same look you had just a few days ago.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the essentials: fever medicine, water, tissues, cooling patches, etc.

When you arrived at his frat house, one of his roommates answered the door, clearly expecting you. “He’s upstairs,” he said, yawning, probably tired from whatever party he was at the night before. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, before heading upstairs, knocking gently on Drew’s door before opening it. 

There he was, sprawled out on the bed, looking like he was in no mood to move, his face flushed and eyes barely open.

“Aww, poor baby,” you say softly, making your way over to his bed. 

You sat down beside his pillow, watching him as he slowly turns his head to look at you, a weak but amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You came?” Drew murmurs, his voice hoarse. “You didn’t have to-“

His words are cut off by a sudden cough, loud and rough, and you instinctively reach out, running your hand through his hair in a soothing gesture. 

“Well, you sent me that picture,” you start, talking about that selfie, “was I suppose to ignore it?”

Drew gives a tired chuckle, “…it’s that kiss.”

“What?”

“That kiss-“

“-which one?”

“Aw, fuck,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut, clearly bothered by the headache that's making him wince.

You brush his messy hair out of the way, your palm resting against his forehead. Yep, he’s burning up, just like how you were a few days ago. 

You reach into the plastic bag, pulling out the cooling patches, the ones Drew had used for you not long ago. 

You peel one off, carefully pressing the cooling patch onto his forehead. You note the look of relief across his features, his lips curling up into a faint smile.

“Every- every kiss we shared,” he murmurs, answering your playful question from earlier. 

Drew might have kissed you a bit too much, while you were sick. 

You chuckle quietly, remembering how his lips always seemed to find their way to you, even when you could barely keep your eyes open or your head from spinning.

“Are you blaming me?”

Drew shifts in his spot, and you can tell he’s trying to sit up, but the fever has him weak. You move quickly to help him, your hands gentle as you support his back and guide him into a sitting position.

“Yeah,” he mutters, leaning back into his headboard, a lazy look in his blue eyes, “you’re- too fucking hot.”

You shake your head, a smile on your lips, “gosh- even a fever isn’t enough to shut you up.”

You reach down to get the bottle of water from the bag, the sound of Drew’s laugh softly echoing through the room. 

You open the tightly sealed bottle of water with a little more force than necessary, and as you glance up to hand it to him, you find Drew already staring at you. 

His gaze is either starry-eyed or unfocused, with his lips parted.

And the combination of his flushed face and the cooling patch on his forehead makes him look comically adorable.

You try to hide the grin tugging at your lips, but it's impossible.

“Drew?” You call out. 

Out of nowhere, he leans down, his movements slow but deliberate. Before you can even register what’s happening, he’s hugging your waist, pulling you closer to him with a surprising amount of strength.

You blink, caught off guard, the warmth of his embrace making your heart skip. 

“Drew?” you repeat, voice hitched. 

He stays there for a moment, face muffled into your lower abdomen. His grip into your shirt tightens just a little, as if he doesn’t want to let go. 

His breath is warm against the area there, his weight slowly pressing into your lower stomach. 

The way he’s clinging onto you feels more intimate than it should, his back rising and falling with every breath he takes, your hand slowly finding itself trailing under his shirt, rubbing onto the skin there. 

“Just... need this,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against you.

“…okay,” you whisper, as you give him the comfort he craves.

He then murmurs something else to your lower stomach, which causes him to shyly rub his face deeper down. 

You furrow your eyebrows, fingertips coming to a halt on tracing his back. 

“…did you say something?” You ask, looking down at him. 

He says it again, but it’s too muffled in. 

“…I can’t hear you,” you tell him, genuinely unable to hear whatever he just said. 

He lifts his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of blue, shining up at you. For a moment, you can see the tiredness strip from his eyes, replaced with something much deeper. 

“I- keep doing that,” Drew says, referring to the way your hands trace over the outline of every muscle on his back. 

“Oh,” you smile, doing it. 

You don’t know why, but you thought he was gonna tell you something important. Something he hasn’t said before. 

And Drew didn’t know why he didn’t say it- why he didn’t say it directly to your face. 

He didn’t know why the simple act of saying ‘I love you’ felt so difficult, especially when it seemed like the perfect moment (at least for him) for it. 

His heart was full, yet the words stuck in his throat. It pounds loudly in his chest, making him nervous in ways he wasn’t sure of. 

Maybe it was the fever rush, or maybe it was just the closeness, the way you were here, holding him.

Maybe it wasn’t the way he’d imagined it—said into your eyes, clear and strong. No, he said it to your lower stomach, muffled by his own vulnerability.

But the words were out there, and even if they weren’t exactly how he intended, Drew knew he meant them with every part of himself.

Then, interrupting his thoughts, another nasty cough ripped through him, causing his body to shake violently, you shaking along too. 

“Oh- babe,” you chuckled gently, patting his back to get those coughs out, “sit up and drink some water, mhm?”

Drew gave a small nod, though he didn’t make an immediate move. His exhaustion weighed heavy on him, but your gentle encouragement was enough to coax him into action. 

With your support, he shifted slowly, leaning back just enough to reach the water you had brought earlier.

You watched him take a few sips, his hands steadying on the bottle. 

“Better?”

“No,” he teases, the corner of his lips curling into a grin. The familiarity of that line makes you roll your eyes at him, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

He chuckles too, but then his grin fades into something softer, more sincere, as he leans back against the headboard, sliding a bit further into his pillow.

The look in his eyes is a quiet invitation, asking you to lay down with him.

You don’t need to think twice. You kick off your shoes, urging him to scoot over, and slide under the covers with him. 

This time, it’s Drew who rests his head into your chest, his arms holding you tightly to him. His leg comes up between yours, almost as if caging you in completely. 

His grip on you is possessive yet gentle, and it makes you feel like nothing else matters in this moment but the two of you, tangled up in each other's presence.

And maybe, holding you is just what Drew needs too, as a ‘cure’ for his fever. 

-------------------------------

bit long- but only bc i had so much fun writing this, hope you like it!

elevator | other

[boybandbaby]

Better (Spencer Reid x Fem!NonBAU!Reader)

word count: 1127

warnings/tags: reader wears makeup, insecurities, sweet reid, as always if I missed anything lmk

note: still trying to figure out how to write Spencer please don’t judge me 🥺

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You and Spencer were supposed to be going on a date tonight. Key phrase being: supposed to.

As you see the time flick from 5:41pm to 5:42pm, you angrily toss the spray bottle of water and hair product into the sink. You take a look at your reflection and see red rimmed eyes and a frown.

Spencer would be here at 6pm to pick you up for your dinner reservations at 7pm. You sighed as you thought about how hurt he would be when you cancelled on him. You both found your date nights sacred with your busy schedule and the demanding nature of his job.

Tonight though, you just couldn’t do it. Your hair was not working with you and you kept crying through your face of makeup. Your cheeks had tracks of eye makeup that cut through the foundation. You felt as horrible as you believed you looked.

Deciding to just rip the bandaid off, you pick up your phone from the sink and press on Spencer’s contact. It rang once before his sweet voice was cutting through the phone.

“Hi!” He breathed. You could hear his excitement through the phone. He had been wanting to see you all week why he was away on a case.

“Hi, Spence.” You croaked out.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He lowers his voice to a soft whisper.

“I-“ you gulp. “I don’t think I can go out tonight. I think I might be getting sick.” You weakly cough out.

There’s silence for a brief moment except for the whirring of the subway car.

It’s only a few seconds that feel like minutes before Spencer speaks. “Oh…” You know from his tone he is disappointed by the change of plans.

“I’m really sorry, Spencer. I really wanted to see you but I just… I’m not feeling up to it today.” You wince. “Can we reschedule?”

“I’m only a few stops away from you. I can come take care of you?” He asks, hoping you’ll agree to his offer.

“I just need to get some rest. Can I call you in the morning?” You ask.

“I don’t want to push you but I really want to see you. Sick or not. Is that okay?” He pleads.

You really don’t want him to see you like this but you’re sure one of his hugs is the only thing that could make you feel better so you agree. “Yeah, okay.” you sniffle.

“Great, thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

Precisely 20 minutes later, you hear a soft knock on your door. You’ve tried your best to remove all remnants of your small breakdown including smoothing your hair into place and scrubbing the layers of makeup. You open the door to Spencer’s already worried yet hopeful face.

He has his satchel around his chest, a plastic bag in his right hand and a bouquet of flowers in his left.

“Hi, beautiful.” He smiles shyly.

His words cause an immediate reaction in you. He’s sweet and always means what he says but you just don’t feel beautiful right now.

Tears flood your eyes and your shoulders slump. Spencer’s smile drops and he hops into action.

He steps inside your apartment and shuts the door. He throws his satchel off his body and onto the floor with the plastic bag and flowers. He wraps his arms around your back as you bury your face in his chest.

You stay in his embrace until your shoulder shakes die down and your face is sticky with tears.

“Come here, let me see you.” He pulls back and cups your face in his hand. His eyes sweep your face as his expression softens. “What’s going on?”

You lean into his hands and hold his hips. “Do you think I’m ugly?” You mumble.

His lets out an incredulous gasp. “What? Absolutely not. What makes you think that?”

“I was trying really hard to get ready but my hair wasn’t cooperating with me. Then I kept trying to redo my makeup because I kept crying and my face got all cakey. I scrubbed it all off and my face started feeling itchy from the scrubbing and then I just felt icky.” You sob, covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I just don’t feel like going out when I’m feeling like this.”

Spencer tries to pry your hands from your face. “You know I like you no matter how you look right?”

“I just wanted to look nice.” You deflect.

“You always look nice.” He compliments. “You don’t need to do anything other than be here with me for us to have a good time. We don’t have to go if you don’t want too. We can stay in and order delivery.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. You nod before leaning in to capture his lips.

“What’s in the bag?” You nod to the floor. “And are those for me?”

“Of course. My pretty girl gets pretty flowers.” He smiles and picks up the plastic bag. “I also got you medicine and snacks but now that I know you’re a liar…” He trails off.

“I’m sorry! It was the only excuse I could think of that would’ve kept you from seeing me like this.”

“I’m not that bad with germs anymore.”

“Yeah, that bad.” You tease.

“Don’t be mean to me.” He hands you the flowers, joking. “You go settle in, I’ll get these into some water.” He kisses your cheek before heading to the kitchen.

You head to the bathroom and began splashing your face with cold water to alleviate the puffiness.

You hear Spencer’s footsteps approaching as he jogs to the bathroom. Before you can drop him, he grabs your face cloth before you can reach for it. He turns you around so your backside is resting against the sink. He gently pats the water drips from your face and grabs your bag of face products. He helps you moisturize, his soft hands rubbing the cream onto your cheeks. You look at him as he bites his lip in concentration.

“Thank you.” You whisper, hands resting on his hips. “For being patient with me”.

“Always.” His eyes flicker to down to meet yours. “Whenever you need some reassurance or you just need me to be here, tell me. I’ll come running.”

You nod and squeeze his hips. He smiles into it before turning you to face the mirror. “How did I do?” You watch him in the mirror as he waits for an answer.

“You did perfect, Dr. Reid.”

“I must’ve if you’re bringing out the honorifics.”

You laugh before pushing your butt back into him to nudge him away from you. “Let’s go order the food, you goof.”

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[vunblr]

Retribution (Blue-collar Bucky #3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Borderline non-con elements. Brat-taming. Power Play. Overstimulation. Edging. Mild Bondage. Unprotected Sex. Breeding Kink if you squint. Degradation. Light Impact Play.

Summary: Bucky crossed the line first, and she pushed back harder. Now, payback comes with fogged-up windows in a rocking van.

Word Count: 6.5k.

note: Another issue of filthy filth.

Bucky sat in the van’s driver’s seat, tapping his thumbs against the worn leather of the steering wheel, and biting his bottom lip.

Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But fuck it.

His boss barely questioned him anymore, not when he was the best worker on-site, handling five times the workload of anyone else with half the complaints. If the foreman found out one of the company vans was missing for a few hours?

Bucky would just say he needed it to attend to… an emergency.

Yeah. That’d work.

He rolled his shoulders, stretching his fingers against the wheel as his heartbeat picked up, a slow, thump of anticipation. Then, across the street, the bakery lights flickered off.

His pulse jumped.

There she was.

Stepping out, locking the door, blissfully unaware of what was coming for her. Bucky grinned, slow and sharp, as he reached for the keys.

Payback time, Muffin.

-----

The van door slid open silently, and a shadow moved in the dim light of the streetlamp.

She didn’t hear a thing.

Didn’t sense the presence behind her as the bakery’s metal shutters locked tight behind her.

Didn’t have time to react before a strong, cold hand clamped over her mouth.

Her muffled gasp barely made it past his palm before she was weightless, swept clean off her feet in one smooth motion. Bucky’s vibranium arm curled tight around her waist, pulling her flush against his solid chest, holding her with effortless control. Her feet dangled off the ground, her body pinned against his as he strode straight into the van’s dark interior.

The door slid shut behind them with a heavy thud.

No one noticed. The few people still lingering on the street barely glanced their way, wrapped up in their own worlds.

Bucky let out a low chuckle, brushing his lips to the shell of her ear as he finally uncovered her mouth, trailing his fingers down to her throat, teasing. “Shhh, sweetheart,” he murmured, in a silky, amused voice.

Her breath was sharp, chest rising and falling fast against him, but he felt it—the way her body melted just a little, the way her nails curled into his shirt instead of pushing away when she recognized the voice.

His grip loosened, just slightly, stroking her pulse with his thumb.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you get away with that, did you?”

Her breath hitched, then she scowled and delivered a sharp slap to his shoulder. Bucky barely flinched.

“You scared me to death!” she huffed, clearly unimpressed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He just grinned, teeth flashing in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with me, Muffin,” he purred, on her ear. “If anything-” With a quick, practiced motion, he pulled a plastic zip tie from his pocket, looping it around her wrists with ease, “I haven’t felt this... invigorated in years.”

The soft rasp of the plastic locking into place sent a thrill down his spine, as his fingers tested the bind: not tight enough to bruise, but just enough to keep her still.

Her eyes widened.

“What-”

“As you see, I’m being considerate,” he cut in smoothly, quirking a brow. “No taser here.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a mocking whisper near her ear.

“Just ol’ reliable tools.”

She let out a sharp breath, but instead of the reaction he expected -fear, doubt- her eyes dropped lower.

And then, she smirked.

“Is this supposed to scare me?” she challenged.

Her gaze flicked to his lap -to the obvious tent in his jeans- and when she looked back up at him, her smirk had only widened.

“Because I can see you are already a little excited under your pants, Sarge.”

Damn woman.

Bucky wasn’t about to let her get in his head.

Not after what she pulled.

He needed to teach her a lesson.

His grip on her bound wrists tightened, just slightly, as he tilted his head, watching her with lazy amusement.

“You know, Muffin, you surprised me the other day,” he mused, “Didn’t take you for such a fierce little thing.” His fingers trailed down the column of her throat, feeling the way her pulse jumped beneath his touch. “Still,” he continued, chuckling dryly, “I should’ve known... since no woman in her right mind wants to deal with me.”

And there it was.

That self-deprecating tone, creeping in like a bad habit.

She hated that. Hated how he couldn’t see what she saw in him.

“Bucky-”

“No.” His grip on her tightened slightly. “As you told me the last time, you don’t get to talk unless I say so.”

She stilled, slightly narrowing her eyes.

Then, unbothered, he started rummaging through a nearby blue bag, fishing out exactly what he needed. When he turned back, he was holding a gag. A soft, pink silicone ball strapped to black leather.

Her brows shot up. “Really? Of all the th-”

She didn’t get to finish.

With a swift movement, he slid the gag into place, gently coaxing her mouth open with his fingers. The ball slipped between her teeth, filling the space perfectly, silencing whatever smartass remark she was about to make.

Bucky fastened the buckle at the back of her head, ensuring it was snug, but not too tight. Then, with the audacity of a man who was enjoying this way too much, he tapped his fingers against the ball nestled between her lips. “I put some strawberry flavoring on it.” His smirk widened. “Thought it was a nice touch.”

She rolled her eyes, mumbling something against the gag, a muffled protest, no doubt, but it was useless now.

He just grinned, dragging a finger leisurely down the exposed skin of her throat. “Where were we?” he mused, as if he didn’t already know. “Oh, right. That little stunt you pulled on me at the community center.” His tone was mocking, but there was something else beneath it, something sharper, something that still itched at his pride.

“I’ll admit,” he continued, playing with the buttons of her blouse, teasing them open one by one, “that I pushed our boundaries a little too much.” Then he leaned in, dropping his voice to a dangerous murmur. “But what you did?”

His grip tightened on the fabric, and with one sharp tug, the blouse ripped open, with the remaining buttons snapping off, scattering across the van’s floor.

Her eyes widened.

Bucky just clicked his tongue.

“Tsk, tsk.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “What exactly did you think was gonna happen next, hmm?” He asked, running the back of his knuckles over the newly exposed skin, feeling her shiver.

“Didn’t think I’d just take it like some pansy, did you?” His lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. “Newsflash, Muffin-”

His hands gripped her waist, pressing his thumbs deep into her soft flesh as if reminding her exactly who she was dealing with.

“I’m not.”

His masculine pride still stung, his ego bruised. Not just because of what she’d done, but because of what it had made him feel. Bucky Barnes had been raised in the Depression and had spent his early years scraping by, learning that a man was supposed to provide, protect, and endure.

Then came the war, the military, the title of Sergeant, men at his charge, and then, of course, the fall. Everything had been taken from him.

And for one humiliating, aching night, she had taken his control again. And fuck if he was going to let that stand.

----

Bucky shifted her body, positioning her against a makeshift nest of blankets he’d thrown in the back of the van.

She landed with a soft thud, brow quirking as she took in the setup, a silent, unimpressed ‘how thoughtful’ written all over her face.

His smirk widened. As if reading her mind, he shrugged. “Just the best for my girl.”

Her breath hitched, but she forced herself not to react to it. Just tucked that little piece of information into a dark corner of her mind, to pull out and examine later.

Before she could dwell on it, he was moving again.

Strong hands gripped her wrists, guiding them above her head, and hooked the plastic restraint to the iron framework of the back doors. Then, without warning, without preamble, he tore her bra clean in half. The fabric gave way instantly, a sharp, satisfying sound, another casualty to his inhuman strength.

Her muffled protest was immediate, but Bucky just tilted his head, feigning confusion. “What? You tryna say something, Muffin?”

He ran a slow, teasing finger down her now bare, perfect tits, watching the way her nipples tightened under his touch. “Ohhh, I get it,” he drawled, dragging his thumb over one peaked bud, just light enough to tease, not enough to satisfy. “You’re thanking me. No need for all that, sweetheart. This is a service.”

Her glare was priceless.

He just grinned, dropping his eyes to the swell of her breasts, appreciating them openly, hungrily, like he had all the time in the world. “Fuck, I love these.”

His hands cupped them, and tested their weight, flicking his thumbs lazily over her nipples before rolling them between calloused fingers. “You know what really gets me going?” His voice dipped. “This damn apron you wear on Wednesdays.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, confused at first. Then, she gazed at the piece of cloth on the van’s floor, peeking from her tote bag. The discount apron. The too-tight, slightly shrunken one that pulled just a little too snug over her chest.

Bucky let out a low, wicked chuckle. “Fuckin’ thing should be illegal.”

He pinched both nipples at once, harder this time, savoring the way her thighs twitched, the way her breath hitched just enough to tell on her. Then, his eyes flicked around the van, scanning for anything useful.

There.

A roll of measuring tape lay tossed near the passenger seat, with an old pencil tucked beside it. His smirk returned, slow and dangerous.

Grabbing the measuring tape, he looped it around the base of her breast, tightening just enough to squeeze, just enough to make her feel it.

He leaned down, his mouth a breath away from the other peak, voice low, dangerous, and unbearably smug.

“Bet you’re dying to know what I’m gonna do next.”

Bucky pulled the measuring tape tighter, watching the way her breast swelled slightly against the pressure.

“Would you look at that, Muffin?” he murmured, dragging the edge of his thumb over her straining nipple, deliberately ignoring the other one, the one waiting for his mouth. He let the measuring tape hang loose, just enough to remind her it was there, then reached for the pencil.

"Hold still."

She tensed in anticipation, as he dragged the pencil’s blunt end across her skin, tracing invisible shapes, leaving nothing but tingles on her skin. “Gotta make some calculations.” His voice was too smooth, too casual as if he weren’t about to ruin her. The eraser tip circled her nipple, teasingly slow.

Then, flick.

She shuddered, the sharp little smack made her body jolt.

Bucky smirked.

“Oh, you liked that?” He flicked again, this time using his fingers instead, watching with rapt attention as the peak stiffened even more, flushed, sensitive, swollen.

His other hand, still gripping the measuring tape, tugged just enough to add more pressure, making her hyper-aware of every touch.

“Thought you were the one teaching lessons, sweetheart,” he mused, before finally -finally- closing his mouth around the other bud.

She gasped against the gag, head tipping back, the contrast of wet heat and cool restriction making her arch into his mouth.

Bucky hummed, sucking deeply, feeling the way her hips rolled instinctively, chasing friction. He pulled off with a lewd pop. “I think we need more research.”

His fingers tightened on the tape.

“You up for that, Muffin?”

-----

He took a moment to admire his handiwork.

Her nipples were pert, swollen, and sensitive from his teasing and the faint indentations of the measuring tape still lingered on her soft skin. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, but it was the way she looked at him -that half-lidded, needy, utterly ruined expression- that nearly sent him over the edge right then and there.

Fuck.

He should’ve jerked off before this.

He knew that.

But oh no. He wanted to stuff her good when the time came, wanted her tight, soaked, and squirming for him.

His fingers twitched as he reached for the clasp of her skirt, peeling the fabric down her thighs, exposing more and more of her skin until it pooled uselessly at her ankles.

And then-

His brain stalled.

Because there they were.

Her panties.

White cotton. Little red apples sprayed across the fabric.

Ridiculous. Innocent. Completely obscene.

Something about the contrast, the sweetness clashing against the absolute filth of their situation, sent a sharp, possessive jolt straight to his cock.

Bucky dragged his thumb over the fabric, pressing against the damp patch already waiting there, and his voice came out low, rough, almost breathless.

“Muffin.”

A slow grin spread across his face as he let his thumb press a little firmer, just enough to make her squirm.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

She let out a muffled whimper behind the gag, and her body tensed, trying to press her thighs together. But he was already there, with his hand between them, keeping her open.

He chuckled, full of satisfaction. “Ohh, what’s that, sweetheart?” He tilted his head, mockingly sympathetic. “You have somethin’ to say?”

Her eyes burned into him, as her brows furrowed like she wanted to snap back, but all that came out was a pathetic little sound, breathy and needy.

Bucky groaned, rubbing his fingers in slow, lazy circles over the wet patch, watching her squirm. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The cotton was ruined, sticky, and transparent, clinging to her pussy like a second skin. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he let his fingers explore tracing the soaked fabric, finding her clit through the flimsy material, pressing just enough to make her thighs tremble.

A slow smirk curled across his lips as he pinched the fabric again, tugging it against her swollen clit just to watch her jump. “Walkin’ around in these cute little panties like you’re all sweet and innocent.” He clicked his tongue. “Look at you now. Fuckin’ desperate for some.” He dragged his knuckles over the damp cotton, with voice laced with condescension. “You like this, don’t you? Gettin’ all sloppy in these little girl panties while I wreck you.” Her breath hitched, and her fingers flexed uselessly in the restraints. He just grinned. “Should make you wear ‘em every time I fuck you stupid.” He stated, as his fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing over the soaked fabric, relishing the way she twitched, helplessly bound and at his mercy.

“You know, maybe you’re unaware,” he mused with a certain arrogance, “But my strength is not the only thing I have enhanced.” His fingers stroked, pressed, and toyed. “All my senses are.”

She let out a muffled, shaky exhale, as her chest rose and fell too fast, her body betraying her completely. He smirked, dragging his nose along her throat, inhaling deeply, making a show of it.

“I can fucking smell you.”

His words sent a violent shudder through her body, and fuck, that did something to him.

“Even when you’re meters away, Muffin, I can smell your needy little pussy, beggin’ for it.” He mumbled, as his teeth scraped the shell of her ear, and his fingers found her clit again, tugging sharply at the soaked fabric until she let out a muffled cry, jerking her hips.

His cock throbbed painfully at her reaction.

“Imagine it now, sweetheart.” His voice was thick, almost reverent, almost ruined. “So close.” He rolled his hips against her thigh, letting her feel just how hard she made him, just how much her body was driving him insane.

His fingers curled, gripping the panties cruelly, pulling them tight, rubbing the soaked cotton directly against her swollen clit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmured, watching her tense, writhe, gasp behind the gag. “Look at you. Squirming. Dripping.” He chuckled darkly. “Not so fun when it’s you, huh?” he mocked, trailing his fingers over her slick folds without giving her anything more than a tease.

Her muffled whimper sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock again, but he held himself back. Barely.

Then finally, he hooked his fingers into the soaked underwear, tearing it down her thighs, exposing her completely and he couldn’t suppress a groan.

Her slickness glistened in the dim light, coating her pussy and her bare thighs. She was so fucking ready, so perfect… but she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

Not yet.

Bucky dragged his fingers through her naked folds, barely pressing where she needed him, spreading her open, watching how her little hole clenched around nothing.

She whined, trying to close her legs but he pinned them apart, smirking as she struggled.

“Oh, no.” His tone was mocking, taunting, laced with dark amusement. “You remember how you left me, Muffin?”

His fingers finally found her clit, but instead of stroking, he tapped it.

Once. Twice.

Then, a sharp little slap against the over-sensitive bundle of nerves.

Her body jerked. A muffled cry left her throat.

“Made me sob for it. Left me in a fucking puddle, dripping all over the goddamn floor.” His fingers dragged through her wetness again, spreading it messily, but never giving her the pressure she so badly needed.

“Feels like torture, isn’t it?” he murmured, grinning against her inner thigh. “Imagine how I felt, sweetheart.”

His tongue flicked out, barely touching her clit, just a whisper of contact before he pulled back again. “Dripping. Desperate. Aching. And you just-” His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing lightly, keeping her on edge. “-kept pushing.”

His fingers circled her entrance, dipping in just enough to tease, to give her hope, before pulling away completely, before bringing them up to his mouth.

“I should leave you like this. Tied up. Soaked. Helpless.” Bucky’s voice was a slow, cruel, laced with mocking satisfaction as he watched her squirm beneath him, tense, needy, and on edge.

Then, just as her muffled whimper broke the silence-

“But I’m a gentleman.”

And with zero warning, zero build-up, zero pretense, he plunged two fingers knuckle-deep inside her.

Her back arched violently, and her body strained against the restraints, as a wrecked, muffled moan ripped through her throat while her walls fluttered and clenched around the sudden intrusion.

Bucky groaned, low and strained, because fuck-

The way she wrapped around his fingers, hot and tight and dripping, it nearly made him jizz in his goddamn jeans.

He stayed still, fingers buried deep, letting her feel it, letting her realize how completely at his mercy she was.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached for the gag, working the buckle free, pulling the saliva-slicked ball from between her lips.

Her breathing was ragged, and her lips swollen, her gaze heavy-lidded and ruined .

Bucky smirked, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip, watching the way it trembled.

“Ready to beg for it, Muffin?”

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky blinked, and his smirk faltered just slightly as he tilted his head, studying her.

She was wrecked, flushed, panting, and yet, those were the first words out of her mouth?

He raised a brow, with his fingers still buried inside her, waiting, listening.

“You just… you made me so mad. I’ve never done something like that before.”

Ah.

So that’s what this was about.

She was talking about the ruler incident.

He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he curled his fingers just slightly, just enough to make her twitch.

“That so?”

She bit her lip, nodding, thighs trembling.

“Sorry if I overstepped.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

He could smell bullshit a mile away.

But this?

This wasn’t that.

She was being sincere.

And fuck, he almost gave in.

Almost.

Instead, he rewarded her honesty with a slow, deep stroke of his fingers, dragging along that perfect, aching spot inside her.

She gasped, rolling her hips into it, chasing more.

“…And?” he pressed, in a deceptively light tone.

Her brows furrowed. “And what?”

Bucky’s movements stopped entirely.

She whined immediately, a sharp, needy little sound.

His grin returned, slow and infuriatingly smug. “I’m not hearing you beg for it.”

She bit her lip, and her expression was equal part frustrated and desperate. “I said I was sorry.” Her voice was softer now, breathier. “Please.”

Bucky’s smirk didn’t waver, but inside?

He was hanging on by a goddamn thread.

“Please what?” he drawled, fingers still buried inside her, still not moving, sensing the way her walls fluttered, clenched, begged.

She swallowed, feeling her cheeks starting to burn.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose.

Fuck.

Her voice was too raw, too open, and something inside him twisted painfully.

Then, she delivered the final blow.

“And I want to cum on your cock.”

His whole body locked up.

Shit.

Fuck.

Bucky had been prepared to tease her a little longer, keep her squirming, and make her pay for what she did.

But he couldn’t say no to that.

His self-control just snapped.

With a low growl, he pulled his fingers out of her, sucking them as he tore open his jeans, pulling out his aching, heavy cock.

It was already leaking, flushed deep red, twitching at nothing, so painfully hard he almost felt lightheaded.

He lined himself up, dragging the tip through her slick folds, watching her body tremble beneath him. His gaze flicked up, locking onto hers.

“Hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart.” Then, in one slow, brutal stroke He pushed inside.

The debauched moan that spilled from her lips almost made Bucky spill inside her.

His entire body locked up, and his cock throbbed violently at the way she tightened around him, so wet, so fucking perfect.

For a split second, his vision blurred, his brain short-circuited, and every nerve screamed at him to just let go, to give in, to lose himself completely.

But he couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

He forced his face into something composed, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached, digging his fingers into her thighs like a lifeline.

No weakness. Not now.

He dragged in a shaky breath, exhaling through his nose and then, without warning, without preamble,

He fucked her.

Hard. Deep. Relentless.

The van rocked with each brutal snap of his hips, and the sound of wet, obscene slaps filled the tight space, mixing with her gasps, moans, and the sharp little cries she couldn’t bite back.

Bucky gritted his teeth, eyes dark, locked onto the way her breasts bounced wildly with every brutal thrust, the way her wrists strained against the restraints, the way her pussy stretched, taking him so perfectly at every punishing drag and it was too much, too fucking good.

Bucky needed more.

With a tight grip, he grabbed her legs from behind her knees and shoved them up toward her chest, folding her in half, and pressing his own weight against the back of her thighs.

The new angle was devastating, deep, consuming, raw.

Her sharp cry of pleasure sent a violent shudder down his spine.

“Look at me while I fuck you.”

His voice was gravel and heated, commanding, possessive.

Her glazed, pleasure-drunk eyes snapped to his, wide, wrecked, obedient.

Perfect.

But as he relished that sight, something ugly, something hungry swirled inside him and his grip tightened, his thrusts turned sharper, harder.

“Are you seeing other guys besides me?”

She blinked, dazed. “What?”

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her down, keeping her open.

“Answer. The. Fucking. Question.”

Each word was punctuated by a brutal snap of his hips, bullying the tip of his thick cock against her cervix, forcing choked gasps, broken moans, and wrecked sounds from her throat.

Her body arched, trembling, completely at his mercy.

“N-no, only you!”

He groaned, deep and satisfied, never relenting his rhythm, never faltering.

“That’s right, Muffin.”

Then his hand slid up, gripping her jaw, keeping her locked on him.

“And it’s gonna stay that way.”

If she weren’t so overwhelmed, so utterly wrecked, she might’ve had the nerve to call him out on that. Because wasn’t it him who always adamantly reminded her of the nature of their relationship?

Wasn’t it Bucky fucking Barnes who set the rules, who told her over and over this was just a casual thing, no strings, no expectations?

And yet, here he was.

Fucking her like he owned her.

Demanding exclusivity like it was his goddamn right.

If she could breathe properly, if her brain wasn’t being pounded into incoherence, she might’ve had something smart to say.

But right now?

Right now, she could only take it.

The van kept rocking obscenely, and the squeak of the suspension mixed with the filthy, wet sounds of skin meeting skin. Each brutal thrust sent a shudder through the vehicle, and the rhythmic banging against the interior walls was a vulgar reminder of just how hard he was fucking her.

Bucky’s grip on her thighs tightened, with his chest still pressed against the back of her legs, keeping her folded, helpless, spread open just for him.

“Shit. Listen to that, sweetheart.” His voice was thick, rough, absolutely wrecked. “Whole damn van knows you’re gettin’ fucked stupid.”

His cock slammed deep, tearing another sharp, broken moan from her throat. She twitched beneath him and her wrists pulled at the restraints, caught between pleasure and the raw ferocity of the situation.

He smirked, dragging his teeth over her calf, watching the way her body reacted to every touch, every thrust, every filthy word.

“Hope you’re not shy, Muffin. ‘Cause if anyone walks by… they’ll know exactly what’s happening in here just in front of the shop. Maybe I should crack a window open, hm?”

Her eyes went wide, panicked, and needy. Fuck, the perfect reaction.

“Let the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” His pace never slowed, as his cock kept slamming deep inside her, making her cry out. “Let ‘em know how their chirpy baker…” his hand slid over her tummy, up to her bouncing tits, squeezing and claiming, “…with her fuckin’ slutty, little girl apple panties…” He drove into her harder, making her arch, tremble, choke on a moan. “…gets fucked like a whore in a construction van.”

He leaned in, breath hot against her parted lips, grinning as her body clenched around him, as she soaked his cock even more.

“And loves every second of it.”

She let out a wrecked, desperate moan, rolling her hips to meet him, chasing more, more, more.

Bucky just chuckled, dragging a rough hand down her stomach, over her twitching clit, feeling the way her whole body shook.

“Drippin’ all over me, Muffin. So fuckin’ filthy.”

His thumb pressed against her swollen bundle of nerves, rubbing slow, teasing circles, never quite giving her enough.

“You like this, hm? Bein’ put in your place?”

She nodded frantically, babbling something incoherent, something like begging.

He groaned, feeling her pulse around him, how her body screamed for release, but he wasn’t done with her yet. Not until he got what he wanted.

“Use your words, Muffin,” he taunted, slowing his thrusts to deep, deliberate grinds, dragging his cock slow and thick along her fluttering walls.

Her thighs trembled, her bound hands clenching uselessly, her body desperate, completely at his mercy.

“Come on, sweetheart.” His voice was low, rough, dangerously smooth. “You were so good at givin’ me orders the other day, where’s that mouth now, huh?”

She sobbed out something unintelligible, a high-pitched whine caught between frustration and pleasure. He smirked, pressing his thumb harder against her clit, but still rubbing slow, teasing circles.

“Beg me for it. Beg me to cum. Beg me to fill you up.”

Her breath stuttered, and then her chest heaved, as she snapped her wide, dazed eyes to his.

And then, fuck.

“I want it.” Her voice was shaky, wrecked. “I want your cum inside me.”

Bucky’s stomach tightened, and his restraint started snapping thread by thread.

But she wasn’t done.

“Want you to fuck it deep, Sarge. Want you to make a mess of me-”

His cock jerked violently, and his grip bruised against her thighs, as his head tipped back with a low, guttural groan.

Oh, fuck, she was trying to kill him. He slammed his hips harder, more desperate now, more primal.

“Yeah? That what you want?” His voice was wrecked, and uneven, and his rhythm turned frantic and sharp. “Want me to breed this pretty little pussy, huh?”

She nodded frantically, gasping, babbling, begging, toes curling, as her legs trembled against his sides. He grinned against her throat, feeling the way her body shivered, how she gasped and trembled beneath him.

“Well then,” he murmured in a tone thick with lust and satisfaction, scraping his teeth over her pulse again, biting just enough to leave a mark.

“Guess it’s time to let you milk my fucking cock.”

The rubbing on her clit turned ruthless, his fingers pressing tight and mercilessly, every stroke dragging her closer, shoving her straight toward the edge. Somehow his thrusts became sharper, brutal, slamming deep, forcing her to take all of him, stretching her open, making her feel every inch of his aching cock. Her wrists strained against the restraints, her thighs twitched, and her tits bounced wildly between them, every inch of her was shaken, wrecked, overwhelmed.

Bucky groaned, watching her fall apart beneath him. “Come on, Muffin.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, his voice a low, dangerous command. “Be my good little slut and cream all over my cock.” He could feel it, the way her body tensed, thighs trembling violently, and her slick, clenching pussy squeezing around him like a fist.

“That’s it, Muffin. Gonna make a mess all over me, huh?”

She sobbed his name, rolling back her head as her body arched off the blankets, helpless against the force of her orgasm crashing down.

And fuck, he felt it.

The way she tightened, spasmed, and squeezed around his cock, drenching him in slick, hot, unbearable bliss.

He growled as he watched her come undone, feeling it, fucking loving it.

Because he did that.

He made her fall apart like that.

His fingers never let up, rubbing her swollen, overstimulated clit, forcing wave after wave to crash through her body until she was twitching, gasping, completely broken beneath him.

“Fuck, look at you.” His voice was gritted, strained, dangerously close to breaking.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum for me.”

His grip tightened on her thighs, pinning her down as his thrusts turned erratic, frantic, mindless. His cock twitched, throbbed, ached, buried deep inside her soaked, pulsing heat.

“Shit- ‘m gonna fill you up, sweetheart.” His hands roamed frantically, gripping her tits, her waist, her thighs, anything he could anchor himself to. “Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside this messy little pussy.”

His rhythm stuttered, his breath caught, and then, a guttural, wrecked moan tore from his throat as his hips slammed forward one final time, burying himself as deep as he could go, and his cock twitched violently inside her.

Then, pure, white-hot bliss.

He spilled thick, hot ropes of cum into her, filling her exactly like he promised, coating her tight walls, as his grip became bruising holding her down, forcing her to take all of it.

“Fuck- fuck- fuck.” His head dropped forward, and his body shook as he rode out the overwhelming, gut-wrenching orgasm tearing through his heated body. Her pussy kept clenching around him greedily, milking him for every last drop, sending aftershocks of overstimulation down his spine, his thighs, and his cock.

He let out a shaky breath, bracketing her head with his forearms as he hovered over her, still buried deep inside her, with his hips still twitching and his cock slowly softening bathed in the mess he’d made.

Then he felt it, the light press of her thighs against his chest, a small, wordless cue. A flicker of awareness cut through his post-orgasmic haze.

Shit.

She was still folded up, with her legs pinned tight against her chest, nearly suffocated by the position.

With a muttered curse, he shifted, easing back slightly, gripping her thighs to guide them down gently, letting her stretch out on the rumpled blankets beneath them.

But when his gaze drifted lower, his brows pulled together.

A faint rash bloomed across the soft skin of her buttocks, raw, irritated. It was the mark of friction from his zipper, his belt, or whatever the fuck else had been in the way.

His jaw ticked.

He’d wanted to return the favor, to humiliate her like she had him, fucking her fully clothed, keeping her vulnerable, exposed, at his mercy.

And fuck, it had felt good.

But now, seeing the evidence of it on her skin…

A small, unwelcome pang of guilt curled in the back of his mind. He shoved it down, masking it behind the lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

There was no point in dwelling on it now.

Instead, he let his gaze drift over her wrecked body, taking in the way her chest still rose and fell unevenly, the way her thighs twitched in the aftermath.

She looked fucked-out, used, ruined, and yet, still so damn pretty.

Bucky exhaled slowly, scanning the mess he made.

Without a word, he glanced around, reaching for the apron, the Wednesday apron, the one that pulled too tight over her tits. He balled it up, dragging the fabric over his softening cock, wiping away the mess with slow, deliberate strokes.

Then, just because he could, he balled it up and dropped it onto her belly.

Her eyes flickered open, and her lips parted as she realized exactly what he’d just done. A slow, dangerous glare settled on her face, and Bucky didn’t miss it.

He smirked, completely unbothered, tracing lazy circles over her thigh with his thumb. “At least it’s not your shirt.”

He winked, smug and satisfied, before reaching up with his vibranium hand.

With a single effortless tug, the plastic restraints snapped, freeing her wrists.

She let out a slow breath, as her arms fell limply to her sides, and he saw the raw marks on her skin, faint but noticeable.

Bucky didn’t linger.

Didn’t watch her rub at her wrists, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he turned away, tucking himself back into his jeans, adjusting his belt, and dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

The van suddenly felt too quiet.

No more ragged moans, no more filthy taunts, no more rocking suspension giving away their sins. Just the sound of rustling fabric as she sat up and started putting her clothes back on.

No words.

No glances.

Just a methodical routine, like she was resetting something, like she was trying to put distance between them. He listened, still facing away, the sound of buttons slipping through holes, the scrape of her nails over her wrists as she rubbed at the faint marks he’d left. Something about it unsettled him.

Something about it felt wrong.

It had been months since they’d started this situationship, and the lines had been clear from the beginning. Just fucking. Nothing more.

And yet, his attitude in her class had blurred them.

Her retaliation had shattered them.

And now?

Now, this whole damn thing felt like a losing game.

Yeah, maybe she’d gone too far with the taser.

But he’d shoved her into a van, tied her up, fucked her senseless like it was his right. That wasn’t retribution. That was something else.

Something neither of them had planned for.

And as she straightened her blouse, fixing what he’d torn, smoothing down the same damn apron he’d just wiped his cum on, he clenched his jaw, swallowing back the urge to say something, anything, to break the silence.

But before he could stop himself, before he could think better of it-

“Need a ride?”

The words left his mouth almost too casual, like he hadn’t just fucked her in the back of his work van, like he hadn’t just borderline kidnapped her in some twisted act of retaliation.

She paused, mid-button, and her fingers lingered at the collar of her blouse.

A slow, deliberate inhale.

Then -finally- her eyes flicked to his.

For a beat, she just studied him with an unreadable expression, like she was trying to figure something out, piece together whatever the hell this had become.

Then, slowly, she rolled her shoulders, stretching her sore limbs, testing the lingering ache between her thighs. Bucky noticed. Of course, he noticed, and his hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to reach for her, to rub the red marks on her wrists, sooth her.

But that wasn’t what this was.

That wasn’t what they did.

So instead, he did what he always did.

He watched her.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sighing through her nose. After a second of hesitation, she lifted the apron off her lap, frowning when she saw the mess he’d left on it, and flicked her eyes back to him. Then, in a move so quick he barely had time to react-

She balled up the apron and chucked it straight at his face.

He let out a gruff sound, catching the apron midair, scowling when he saw his vibranium fingers smeared with the cum staining the fabric.

Fucking hell.

His jaw ticked, and the muscles in his forearm flexed as he gripped the soiled cloth tightly, too tightly. When he flicked his gaze back up, she was already ending the fix on her blouse like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just been tied up beneath him, writhing, begging, taking everything he gave her.

Like she hadn’t just fucked up his head all over again.

She reached for the door handle, pausing only for a second before throwing him a smug little smirk over her shoulder.

“See you around, Sarge.”

Bucky didn’t respond. Just sat there with his legs spread, resting his forearms on his thighs, and still gripping the soiled apron with his vibranium fingers.

His gaze followed her, something unreadable flickering behind his half-lidded, heavy stare, his chest still rising and falling deep and slow.

What he didn’t get to see, was how the confident little smirk faded slowly, shifting into something pensive. She bit her lip, slowing her pace, as her mind wandered to the van, to him, to everything that just happened.

On the way he held her down, fucked her like he owned her, and then hesitated, even for a second, when he saw the marks he’d left.

On the way he had blurred the lines between retaliation and something else entirely.

On the way he had called her his girl without even realizing it.

And, on the way she didn’t have corrected him.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[kxtsukixoxo]

Hi!! I love your work .❤️❤️❤️ could you do izuku midoriya with the prompt “i'm going to make you regret this.”. Maybe the reader has been teasing izuku all day while he’s at his office or something like that.

authors note - i had so much fun writing this!! <3

here’s the valentine’s day event, there’s still prompts available!! ⊹. warnings - nsfw content

izuku groaned as your notification bubble popped up on his phone, once again. he knew exactly what that meant, yet another text or picture teasing him mercilessly, while he worked. 

he briskly searched for the call button underneath your display picture as he huffed on his way to the bathroom, you hadn’t answered yet. izuku’s right hand balanced his frame on the sink behind him, as the other held his phone, impatiently waiting for you to pick up. you finally did, “cut it out babe” he whined as you giggled, “nah uh, this is what you get for leaving me alone, all slick and wet for you, but you’re not here to help me” he could practically hear your pouting, as your words dripped off him like honey running loosely down his body. “fuck.” izuku panted as he threw his head back, “i’m gonna make you regret this baby” he huffed out as he loosened his tie. your giggle could be heard on the other end of the line as you whispered out “i look forward to it zu” 

izuku rushed to his car, after cancelling all his classes for the day, making sure aizawa would see to his class, he plopped into the drivers seat as he ran his hand through his hair. “you’re gonna be the death of me” izuku panted out while he spoke to himself, twisting the keys, igniting the engine. 

you’d js got out of the shower, tightening the string around your bathrobe, when you heard the impatient wrap of someone’s knuckles against your door, figuring it was possibly urgent, you rushed to the door, forgetting about changing into your set of clothes splayed across the bed. 

just a millisecond after you opened the door, izuku’s hands slid around your waist as he buried his face into dip between your neck and shoulder, “you really shouldn’t walk around like that baby” he muttered against your soft skin. you couldn’t tell when he did it, but you somehow ended up pressed against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he explored every nook and corner of your mouth, finally lifting you off and carrying you towards the queen sized bed, the both of you shared. “this is punishment. don’t forget that hm?” izuku murmured as his green tussled hair fell onto your face as he placed a kiss on your lips. 

“Oh, pretty girl," Izuku murmurs, a faux pout curling his lips as he admires the tears rolling down your face. A thumb wipes them away languidly, drawing slow circles over the apple of your cheek while he coos at your little blubbers, your timid sniffles and delicate whimpers. "You're doing amazing, such a good little thing, aren't you?"

The lilt in his voice is sly, sadistic, and his eyes shine with something wicked, barely-contained in the darkened green hues that leer down at you. His words hardly register, a heavy fog crawling through your mind as you come down from yet another high; all you can feel are his lips pressing against your cheeks in gentle pecks, and his tongue flicking over the salty trails while he mumbles against your skin.

"Look at my baby." He brushes his nose against yours in a soft bunny kiss before pulling back. "You sound so cute crying for me like that."

The sobs that were dying down begin bubbling up once more as his hand swirls around your swollen clit. Your legs tremble beneath his touch, burning as they tense in anticipation of the pleasure only Izuku can bring you; your breath hitches in your throat, a hiccuped gasp escaping you when his already-drenched fingers slide back into your quivering hole. You're sensitive to the touch, and he only takes advantage of that, crooking his digits against your silky walls to make you arch into him, panting breathlessly.

"Oh, is this what you want, angel?" he asks, unyielding as he slides a third finger in, and the stretch is excruciating in the most delicious way.

"It's too much, zuku-can't-again-ah, please!"

"'please?' Please what, baby?" he urges, his other hand smoothing down your body to circle your breasts, pinching and tweaking a bud to push your body to its limits. Your nerves are burning like a live wire, precariously sensitive to the slightest touch, just waiting for the right stimulant to push you over the edge and set your body alight. "Want me to stop?"

"No!" you cry, shaking your head as you cling to his fingers, pussy tightening around him as the waves of another high begin rolling in. "No- don't stop, don't- want you to- keep- like that, like that, please."

He hums against your neck, teeth teasing over your pulse with little nibbles. "Like this? Are you close, angel?"

"So, so close-"

"You want to cum for me? Cum all over my fingers again?"

You're nodding your head, barely paying attention to his words. Yeah, yeah, leaves your lips in high-pitched squeals as your nails dig into his skin, the tides of your release rearing back to crash all over you. "Please— please, want to cum, gonna— gonna cum—"

And just as the wave of your climax peaks, it evaporates into thin air. You let out a whiny exclamation at the loss of an orgasm, a pitiful no, please, please— slurring out of you when Izuku pulls his fingers away completely, leaving your greedy, needy hole to clench around nothing, desperately clinging to the receding tides of your high.

Your hand drops to finish yourself off, to catch the waves before they disperse, but Izuku easily twines his fingers with yours, pinning your hand above your head to hold you still. You're humping the air, rutting against his hardness to bring you some relief, but it's too late, it's all gone. You crumble beneath him, melting into a puddle of woe and tears as you look up at him with those pretty, doe eyes, pleading for a semblance of his mercy.

"Aw, poor baby." The mock pity in his voice is overflowing as he ignores the way your bottom lip quivers with the loss of your relief, the way your brows furrow with stunted, childish anger at his action. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, but the devilish upturn of his smirk says otherwise, "but I told you before, didn't I?"

Once more, his hand slips down to your dripping sex, rubbing the oversensitive bundle of nerves in slow, firm figure-eights. "This is a punishment" he grunts, dipping his head to lavish his tongue over the sweet spots on your neck before he sinks his teeth into the plush skin and buries his fingers back into your tight, warm cunt. "And I don't think you've learned your lesson just yet."

[00valentina-writes00]

Could you do Ambessa and Sevika with a reader who's really introverted? Thank youu🫂❤️

♡♥︎ 𝕊𝔼𝕍𝕀𝕂𝔸 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕄𝔹𝔼𝕊𝕊𝔸 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥 ♥︎♡

♡𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒♡

♥︎ Sevika respects your need for space. She’ll give you the quiet moments you crave, but she also won’t hesitate to check in, making sure you’re okay. She’s the type to simply sit beside you in silence, just feeling your presence without pushing for interaction.

♥︎ She’s not much for small talk, so she’s perfectly content with your more reserved conversations. She likes the deeper, meaningful moments, especially when you share something you’ve been thinking about in the comfort of silence.

♥︎ Sevika notices the subtle signs that you need time alone. She won’t ask questions—she’ll just leave you to your space without making you feel guilty about it. She knows when to give you space without making it an issue.

♥︎ When she does interact with you, it’s always in a way that feels comforting rather than overwhelming. Her low, steady voice helps keep your anxiety at bay, and she always speaks in a calm, no-nonsense tone.

♥︎ She understands when you don’t want to go out, and she’ll stay in with you. Whether that means watching something low-key or simply spending time in each other’s company without the need for words, Sevika gets it.

♥︎ Despite her tough exterior, she’ll sometimes offer small, thoughtful gestures. Like making sure you have a hot drink or making your favorite meal, even if you never asked for it.

♥︎ She won’t push you to be more social. If you don’t want to deal with people, she’s more than happy to take care of things without dragging you into them. She values your peace and understands your boundaries.

♥︎ Sevika’s got a weirdly soft side when it comes to you. She’s the type to gently brush her fingers through your hair or rub your back when you’re feeling overwhelmed, always keeping it quiet and steady.

♥︎ She doesn’t make a big deal out of it when you’re not up for physical affection, but she makes sure you know she’s still there with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet touch when you need it.

♥︎ At times, she’ll give you a look, almost like she’s checking if you’re okay. She’s so observant, catching even the smallest shift in your mood. Sometimes, all it takes is a nod from you, and she’ll know how to adjust without saying a word.

♥︎ She’s a master at knowing when to be quiet and when to speak. If you’re deep in thought or in your head, she won’t try to force conversation—she lets you come to her when you’re ready

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re feeling anxious, Sevika won’t ask what’s wrong. Instead, she’ll just do something familiar—like sitting with you, offering a cigarette, or doing something that feels grounding for both of you.

♥︎ She’ll never judge you for being quiet or withdrawn. There’s no pressure to be anything other than yourself with her, and she’s one of the few people who sees the value in your silence.

♥︎ Despite her commanding presence, Sevika has a weird way of knowing exactly how to make you feel safe when you’re overwhelmed. It’s in the way she stands, the way she quietly observes, always creating space for you to be yourself without fear of judgment.

♥︎ She doesn’t mind if you’re the type to retreat into books, music, or your own thoughts. She’ll sit next to you, just existing with you, content that you’re sharing that space in your own way.

♥︎ Sevika understands your need for independence. She doesn’t try to fix everything. Instead, she lets you deal with things at your own pace, offering support only when you ask for it.

♥︎ When she sees you come out of your shell—even a little—she’s oddly proud of you. There’s a soft edge to her smirk when she catches you laughing or talking with someone. She’ll never outright compliment you on it, but you can tell she’s impressed.

♥︎ She’s the type of girlfriend who will insist you take breaks and step away from stress, but she’ll also respect it if you want to handle things on your own. It’s all about balance for her.

♥︎ When you get overwhelmed in a crowd, Sevika will always find a way to get you out of there. Whether it’s making an excuse to leave early or simply pulling you to the side for a quick exit, she’s got you.

♥︎ She knows you might prefer just one-on-one time, so she’ll do what she can to make sure you’re never pressured into group settings that make you uncomfortable.

♥︎ Sevika’s loyalty runs deep. When you’re down, she’ll stay by your side, a steady presence in the background, quietly supportive, offering you the space you need while also being there when you want her.

♥︎ Finally, she’s the kind of partner who’s happy to let you be exactly who you are—quiet, introverted, and uniquely you. She appreciates your calm, your quiet strength, and the way you help her see the world from a different perspective.

♡𝔸𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒♡

♥︎ While Ambessa is commanding and often larger-than-life in her presence, she knows how to make you feel safe in your introversion. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, she’ll create a space where it’s just the two of you, letting you retreat into the comfort of silence.

♥︎ When you’re too tired to talk, Ambessa will gently remind you that you don’t need to say anything—your presence alone is enough for her. She understands that sometimes, silence speaks volumes.

♥︎ If you’re ever feeling drained after a long day, Ambessa will offer you her company without demanding anything from you. She might pour you a drink, sit beside you, and simply exist in your space without pressuring you to be anything other than yourself.

♥︎ She’ll occasionally tease you, but it’s always lighthearted and with affection. She enjoys seeing the subtle shifts in your expression when you try to hide your smile or laughter at her dry wit.

♥︎ Ambessa knows the value of personal time, and she’s perfectly content with letting you retreat into your own thoughts. She’ll never take it personally if you need space; she understands that your quiet moments are just as important as your shared moments.

♥︎ When you’re feeling particularly introverted, she’ll find ways to give you space while still being close. She might work nearby, allowing you to feel her presence without being forced to interact if you’re not up for it.

♥︎ Ambessa will sometimes look at you in a way that says everything—those deep, knowing glances that speak volumes without words. She’s incredibly perceptive and can sense when you’re feeling overwhelmed without you saying a thing.

♥︎ If you need a break from the chaos around you, Ambessa will ensure that you can escape to a quieter place. Whether it’s her private office or just a secluded corner, she’ll make sure there’s peace for you when you need it.

♥︎ When she knows you’re feeling anxious or stressed, Ambessa will offer her hand or give you a touch of reassurance. She’s not the type to force conversation, but her touch is often all you need to feel grounded again.

♥︎ Despite her intimidating persona, she’ll soften her voice when she speaks to you, knowing that you’re more comfortable when things aren’t too loud or intense. Her words come with purpose, but also a gentleness that helps ease your mind.

♥︎ Ambessa doesn’t mind when you’re introverted around others. She’s proud of your calm, quiet strength, and she’ll often give you a knowing look, silently acknowledging that you’re doing just fine without saying a word.

♥︎ She enjoys watching you in your element when you’re doing something you love, whether it’s reading, sketching, or simply taking a walk alone. Her gaze is full of quiet admiration as she watches you retreat into your thoughts, appreciating the depth of who you are.

♥︎ When you’re not feeling like talking, Ambessa will give you small affirmations to remind you that you’re valued. It might be a compliment, a small smile, or simply a soft “I’m proud of you” when you least expect it.

♥︎ Ambessa knows how to read your body language, and she can tell when you’re beginning to feel drained. When that happens, she’ll shift gears and create a more private, calming environment for you without making it awkward

♥︎ If you’re having trouble navigating a social event or gathering, Ambessa will be your rock. She’ll make sure you don’t feel pressured to perform socially, and she’ll give you an out if you need one.

♥︎ When you do choose to open up, Ambessa listens with unwavering attention. She never interrupts, never judges, and always values the words you do share. Her silence in those moments is the most supportive kind of presence.

♥︎ Ambessa is fiercely protective of your peace. If anyone or anything threatens to disturb your calm, she’s quick to put it in its place. She’ll handle it quietly, often with a few choice words, making sure your introverted nature isn’t pushed out of balance.

♥︎ She’ll often surprise you with small gifts or gestures that show she’s thinking of you. A book she thinks you’d love, a quiet walk around the city, or even a cup of tea with your favorite flavor—it’s her way of showing she cares without overwhelming you.

♥︎ When you need to recharge, Ambessa will make sure to give you the time you need. She won’t pressure you to interact with her or others, knowing that sometimes the best way to show affection is by letting you be yourself.

♥︎ She’s not the type to need constant reassurance, but she’ll make sure you feel seen. When you’re with her, it’s like nothing else matters; it’s just the two of you, with her providing the kind of quiet strength that balances out your own.

[apollosdaydreams]

Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Reader doesn’t know the hat rule, so Tyler teaches her it

Warnings: smut (18+ only), age gap?, Tyler: 28, Reader: 23. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) Sorry if this sucks in still pretty new to writing smut lol,



Tyler and you were at the rodeo, enjoying each other's company after a frustrating day of chasing. You looked over on your left where Tyler was sitting, giving him a small smile. Looking up at his hat then back to his eyes.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He said while cocking his head to the side slightly and smirking. You looked down with a soft smile shaking your head slightly, then looking back up at him and shrugging your shoulders.

“Nothing.” You said.

“Nothing?” He replied. “I can see the gears turning sweetheart.” You just rolled your eyes at him and playfully pushed his shoulder. “Just enjoy the show Ty.” You replied with a soft laugh. You then turned to watch the rodeo and Ty couldn’t take his eyes off you, he just gave you a soft smile, eventually pulling his eyes away and started to watch as well. As you watched the rodeo you would often look over to your side to watch Tyler. He was leaning over and his forearms were on his knees, his tongue sticking out in focus. You giggled a little bit and grabbed the hat off his head, Tyler then quickly looked over in confusion before he smirked. You gave him a smile and a small laugh.

“I think I look better in this than you, what do you think?” You asked, as you playfully pretended to strike poses. Tyler couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “Yeah you do….” He mumbled.

Tyler and you were both walking back to the motel you and the others were staying at, Tylers hat still on your head. You guys walked up to the other Tornado Wranglers, and they were sitting by a fire they had made. Boone looked over at Ty and you and smirked when he saw that you were wearing Tylers hat.

“Nice hat you got there y/n.” He said with a soft laugh, and the others joined in on it. You were unaware of why they were laughing, you really thought that they thought that Tyler’s hat looked good on you.

“I know right!” you said happily. “I think I look better in this than Ty does.”

Boone looked at Tyler, then back at you. “You know what they say y/n?” he asked, and you gave him a slightly confused look. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You cocked your head to the side for a second before realizing what he meant. Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red, you looked over at Tyler with slight shock and horror written all over your face.

“Oh my god Tyler! I didn't know, I didn't mean to imply anything.” you said quickly, taking off his hat and handing it over to him. At that moment Tyler realized that you didn't know that hat rule. “It's alright sweetheart, don't worry about it.” He said softly, putting his hat back on and trying to calm you down and not embarrass you even more. The pet name only made you blush harder. You were embarrassed now, wanting to dig yourself a hole and never crawl out of it.

“I’m getting tired guys, I’ll see you in the morning.” You said softly. Kate looked at you with soft eyes, knowing the crush you had on Tyler. “Night y/n. Sleep well.” She said, the others also saying goodnight.

You made your way up the stairs of the motel and pulled out your keys to your room that you were sharing with Kate for the night. Before you could get the key in the door you heard someone clearing their throat behind you, looking at who made the noise you looked behind you and saw it was Tyer.

“Oh, hey Ty…” you said quietly, before he could get a word out you were already apologizing. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by wearing your hat, I honestly didn’t know about the ‘hat rule’ ” you said with an awkward laugh and using finger quotes over ‘hat rule’. Tyler smiled at your rambling. “It’s alright sweetheart, plus I did think you looked really good in my hat, even if you didn’t know the hat rule.” Tyler joked. You rolled his eyes at him and playfully gave his shoulder a soft push. “Oh shut your yapper Tyler.” You said laughing. Tyler couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your laughing. “But you know it’s fine if you weren't trying to insinuate anything.” He said, making a small step forward to you. “But if you were, well I wouldn't be complaining sweetheart.” He said with his signature smirk. You could feel your cheeks redden slightly, looking up at Tyler, then looking at his lips, then back at his eyes, before you took a small step forward and cupped his face with your hands pulling him closer to you. Tyler pushed you against the wall, kissing you hard. Teeth clashing every once in a while before you pull away gasping for air.

“Let's take this to your room cowboy….” You whispered.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Tyler said with a side smile.

Shaking your head slightly and letting out a small laugh you followed Tyler to his room, he quickly pulled the keys to the room out of his pocket and opened the door, letting you go in first, and quickly following behind you. Before he closed the door he put the ‘do not disturb' placard on the door, locking it behind him. You quickly stepped out of your shoes, and Tyler quickly did the same thing, then quickly pulled you in for a deep kiss, slowly bringing you over to his bed, once the back of your legs made contact with the bed he pushed you softly. You then pulled Tyler down by the collar of his shirt. His hands slowly raked down your body before he started to toy with the button on your jean shorts.

“Can I take these off ya? Dyin’ to see what you have under them.” He said kissing your neck, making you moan. “Yes, take them off please.” Tyler then quickly pulled them off of you, and then flipped you over so you were on top. He then reached for his belt taking it off and throwing it off to the side, before he unbuttoned his pants also throwing it off to the side. Leaving him in his boxers and his shirt, his length showing through his boxers from how hard he had become.

His hands slid under your shirt, you shivered at the feeling. Not knowing if it was because his hands were cold or something else. You then slowly felt him begin to take off your shirt, tossing it to the side. Leaving you only in a lacy bra and matching panites.

“God sweetheart you, are just, wow, fucking beautiful.” He mumbled against your neck, making you blush.

“Ty I think you should take this off.” Tugging at his t-shirt.

“Fuck sweetheart, I wanna see you with out anything on.” He said reaching for the hem of your shirt. Looking at you in the eyes, “Is that alright? Can I take this off?” He asked, but you couldn’t find yourself to form any words, only nodding your head. “Sweetheart I need words.” He said, you gulped and took a deep breath. “Yes, please, yes you can take it off Ty. Pulling your shirt off and tossing it to the side with the other articles of loose clothing. His thumbs playing with your painty line, as you grinded on top of him. His hands were all over your body, reaching for the back of your bra he quickly got it off, his hands then slowly moving to your panties.

“How much do you like these?” He asked.

Shrugging, “I mean I like them I guess.” You said confused, before you could ask why Tyler quickly ripped them in half throwing the ruined panties away. Gasping, “Tyler!” you said. “Those were expensive.” Tyler grinned into your neck. “I’ll buy you one in every color sweetheart.”

“You should take these off…” You said pulling at the waistband of his boxers. He then brought his hands down and quickly pulled them down slightly, his cock then sprung to his stomach. Looking down at him, your eyes widened.

“Ty, I don't think that will fit.” You said looking at his dick. Tyler smiled smugly, bringing you closer to him by your hips, both of you gasping slightly. “It will fit sweetheart.” He said. You then looked down and grabbed his dick lining him up with you as you slowly sank down. Tyler groaned as you slowly fit all of him in you. “See told you it will fit.” He said breathing heavily. You rolled your eyes at him and you slowly began to move up and down his length. You looked over to your side and saw the hat that was on Tyler’s head just moments ago. Reaching for it you put it on your own head, smiling down at Tyler. Tyler moaned, he couldn't believe the sight that was in front of him.

“You look so perfect, wearing my hat, in my bed.” He whispered, hips lips trailing down your neck.

“Stop talking.” You muttered, pulling him closer to you. Tyler chuckled softly, “yes ma’am.” He said, his accent strong and heavy. He gripped your hips harder helping you ride him. Your hands were resting on Tylers chest, you then felt Tyler move his hands towards your clit. Moaning out as the pad of his finger made contact with the bundle of nerves.

“Ty… please.” You moaned breathy. He laughed slightly, rubbing the bundle of nerves harder and thrusting up harder. Before you knew it you coils feel your legs begin to shake as you came crying out.

“Holy fuck.” Tyler whispered, finishing after you, his pace slowing.

*^*^*^*^*^

You were laying down next to Tyler, both of you trying to get air back into your lungs.

​​

“That was-”

“Incredible, I know.” Tyler said, answering for you.

Leaning your head on Tylers shoulder you jumped slightly as you heard someone knock.

“Next time would it kill ya to be quiet?!” Boone yelled from outside.

You blushed in embarrassment, Tyler only laughed and brought you closer to him. “Yeah, yeah, sure Boone!”

Spoiler alert you didn't listen to Boone.

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