#like I don’t know but I always end up getting slowly pushed out of groups | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosyrosethings · 11 days ago

Text

Snowed in

This is slowwww burn. Enemies to lovers. I love a good slow burn

7k+ words

Y/N’s breath puffed into the frozen air as she slammed her car door shut, the sound echoing across the quiet clearing. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she stepped forward, scarf pulled tighter around her neck, eyes lifting toward the cabin nestled between towering pines.

It was bigger than she expected—three stories of rich timber and stone, with a wraparound porch and smoke curling lazily from the chimney. Warm golden light spilled from the windows, glowing like a promise against the cold gray sky. It would’ve been the perfect winter escape—if he wasn’t coming.

She sighed sharply, her breath fogging up her glasses. Of course Harry Styles was coming. Of course he had to be part of this.

The group trip had sounded great in theory: a week in a mountain cabin with friends, no work, just snow, booze, board games, and long mornings in pajamas. Y/N had needed the break—desperately. And it might’ve been just what she needed, if it weren’t for the single walking migraine that came bundled with dimples and a British accent.

Harry Styles was a menace. A flirty, smug, utterly infuriating headache of a man who lived to push her buttons. He always knew just what to say, what look to give, how to hover one second too long. Every interaction was a tug-of-war—one he acted like he was enjoying a little too much. She swore he only said her name like that—low and drawn out—just to make her skin crawl.

And worse? It worked.

She’d made sure to arrive first. If she had to be stuck here all week, she’d at least claim the best room. Hoisting her duffel bag onto one shoulder, she trudged up the porch stairs and brushed snow from her sleeves. The front door creaked open with a gentle push—unlocked, just like Mitch promised.

Inside, the cabin was warm and still, filled with the soft glow of firelight and the scent of cedar. Thick beams crossed the ceiling, a stone fireplace crackled quietly at the far end of the room, and plush rugs softened the dark wood floors. She stepped in slowly, letting the quiet settle over her like a blanket. For just a moment, it was perfect.

Then the front door flew open behind her with a burst of icy air.

“Don’t tell me you beat me here,” called a voice that made her jaw tighten on instinct.

She didn’t even need to look. She knew that voice.

Harry Styles stepped inside like he owned the place, snow dusting his boots and curls poking out from beneath a black beanie. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, eyes bright and full of mischief. That stupid, irresistible grin was already on his face.

“Unfortunately,” she muttered without turning around.

“Wow,” he said, unzipping his coat. “You came early. That’s cute. Trying to set up booby traps before I arrive?”

“Actually, I came early so I wouldn’t have to see your face for a few hours.”

He let out a laugh that was far too delighted. “God, you missed me.”

“I missed peace.”

Harry strolled farther in, glancing around like he was already rating the decor. “You know, the more you insult me, the more I’m convinced you dream about me at night.”

“I don’t dream about clowns.”

He raised a brow. “That’s weird. I dream about you sometimes.”

Y/N turned slowly, fixing him with a glare. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet,” he said, gesturing around them with mock innocence, “here you are. Sharing a roof with me.”

Before she could snap back, her phone buzzed so did Harry’s . Then again. Then a third time. She pulled it out and opened the group chat.

Dan: Roads are closing—storm’s worse than they predicted Lauren: They won’t let us past the ranger checkpoint Mitch: They’re putting us up at this little lodge halfway up the mountain Jessica: We’ll have to wait out the storm, prob can’t get to the cabin tonight Dan: You guys hold it down. Try not to kill each other Lauren: Or worse... hook up lol Y/N: I hope the snow swallows you all

She stared at the screen. Then slowly looked up. Harry was already grinning. “You have got to be kidding me.” She said under her breath.

“Just us,” he said, arms outstretched like it was a dream come true. “In a beautiful, secluded cabin. Four bedrooms. And yet, I know you’ll still find ways to bump into me.”

“In your dreams.”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

Y/N groaned and turned for the stairs. “I’m claiming the biggest room.”

“Already did.”

She froze. “Excuse me?”

“I was here first,” he said, smug. “Technically. I parked in the back, took the back stairs. My bag’s already on the bed. Mountain view, window seat, king bed. Super cozy.”

“You sneaky little—”

“Now, now,” he said, holding up his hands like he was diffusing a bomb. “Still three other bedrooms left. Unless, of course... you want to share?”

She turned slowly, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I’d rather eat a blue jean jacket.”

He burst out laughing as she stormed up the stairs.

Y/N flung open the second bedroom door with more force than necessary. It wasn’t as big as the master, but it would do—queen bed, soft blankets, a little window with a snow-covered view. Most importantly, it was far enough away from Harry’s room that she wouldn’t have to hear him breathing.

She tossed her bag onto the bed and sat down, still bundled in her coat. Outside, the snow was falling faster now—thick, heavy flakes swirling in the wind. It was almost hypnotic, the way it danced through the air, piling higher along the porch and creeping up the trees.

They weren’t going anywhere tonight. That much was clear.

She had just finished unpacking when it happened.

Click.

The heater cut off.

A strange silence followed—no humming refrigerator, no subtle buzz of electricity. Just the low crackle of the fire from downstairs and the eerie groan of the wind pressing against the walls.

Then darkness.

Y/N paused, mid-step, her pulse skipping as the reality settled in.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, flicking the light switch a few more times.

Nothing.

From downstairs came Harry’s voice: “Power’s out!”

She rolled her eyes and shouted back, “Thanks, Sherlock!”

She quickly changed into some pjs, looking in bag for some kind of light source besides her phone to save battery.

Nothing.

Just a book, a portable charger, Yarn, and her pride.

The wind howled again, louder now, rattling the window beside her like a warning. The room was already getting colder. Upstairs suddenly felt very far away from the fire—and far too close to the storm.

With a grumble, she grabbed her phone and her book and headed downstairs.

The living room was dim, lit only by the fireplace’s faint orange glow. Harry was crouched in front of it, sleeves rolled up, feeding a fresh log into the flames. Sparks popped and danced up the chimney, and the heat slowly returned to the room.

Y/N stopped at the bottom step, arms crossed over her chest.

Harry looked up. “Look who finally decided to join me.”

“It’s freezing upstairs,” she said flatly. “And I don’t feel like being trapped in a horror movie setting alone.”

“Sure. That’s why,” he said, grinning. “Not because you missed me?”

She gave him a look. “I’d rather sleep outside.”

Harry stood and brushed off his hands. “Suit yourself. But unless you want to become a human popsicle, this fire is your best friend now.”

She walked to the far end of the couch and sat down stiffly, curling her legs under her. “Don’t talk to me.”

“No promises,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

A few moments later, he returned with a cardboard box and a lighter. “Found these in the drawer next to the fridge. Candles.”

Y/N took them wordlessly and began lighting them one by one, placing them across the room—on the mantle, the windowsill, the coffee table. Warm golden light flickered to life in small halos, casting long shadows and softening the edges of the cabin.

The room shrank around them, cozier now, quieter.

She picked up her book, flipped to her dogeared page, and began reading. Harry dropped into the armchair closest to the fire, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he stared into the flames.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke.

Outside, the storm roared like an angry beast, but inside, all was still.

Until—

Growl.

It was faint, but unmistakable.

Y/N froze, eyes locked on the page. She tried to play it off by flipping to the next chapter like nothing happened.

Harry opened one eye. “Was that… you?”

She didn’t answer.

“That was your stomach,” he said, grinning.

“It was the wind.”

“The wind doesn’t sound hungry, Y/N.”

She snapped her book shut. “Do not start.”

Harry stood with a stretch, heading into the kitchen. “Relax. I brought food.”

“Oh good,” she called. “Protein bars and bad decisions?”

“Funny. But no,” he said, rummaging through his bag. “Tonight, we dine like kings.”

He returned with two packs of instant ramen, a small pot, and a grin that made her immediately suspicious.

“You brought ramen?”

“Laugh all you want, but I knew we’d end up needing it. Mountain weather waits for no man.”

“I’d rather starve.”

Harry shrugged and headed toward the stove. “Suit yourself. But when you faint from hunger, I’m not catching you.”

She didn’t reply—but her eyes followed him as he knelt beside the wood-burning stove, coaxing the flames higher. He looked completely in his element, sleeves pushed up, focus sharp, hands steady. It was annoying how competent he looked.

And how good.

She turned back to her book, scowling at the page like it had personally offended her.

Behind her, she heard the familiar sound of water heating. Then the soft rustle of plastic as he tore open the ramen packets.

“Just so you know,” Harry said, “I’m making two bowls. Because I know you. You’ll pretend you’re not hungry, then creep into the kitchen at midnight like a raccoon.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

The scent of ramen filled the room, savory and warm. Her stomach growled again.

“I’m not eating that,” she said, sharper this time.

“Didn’t say you were,” he said casually, pouring noodles into the steaming water. “But I’m placing one bowl near you and walking away. What happens after that is between you and your integrity.”

Y/N didn’t answer. But her eyes flicked toward the stove. The ramen smelled criminally good. Salty, warm, comforting in the way only cheap noodles could be when you’re snowed in, half-frozen, and pretending not to starve in front of your nemesis.

Y/N tried to ignore it.

Harry stirred the pot slowly, adding the seasoning packets like he was cooking for a five-star review. When the noodles were ready, he ladled them into two mismatched ceramic bowls and grabbed a pair of forks.

He approached the couch and, without a word, set one steaming bowl down on the coffee table in front of her.

She glanced at it.

Then back at him.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, settling into the other end of the couch. “But if it was, honestly? I’d be impressed with myself.”

She glared. Her stomach growled again.

He wiggled his brows. “You gonna eat it or dramatically waste it to prove a point?”

Y/N let out a low groan and snatched the bowl. “I hate you.”

“You say that,” Harry said, twirling noodles onto his fork, “but you’re eating my food. Sitting in my firelight. Basking in my radiant charm.”

“Basking in your delusions.”

They both dug in, the room quiet except for the clink of forks and the soft whistle of wind outside. For a long stretch of time, they didn’t speak. Just ate. And sat. And didn’t hate it.

The silence felt different now.

Not stiff.

Not hostile.

Just… warm.

Y/N leaned back into the couch when her bowl was empty, curling the blanket tighter around her legs. Harry remained at the other end, his posture loose, gaze on the fire.

“You know,” he said, voice soft, “if this storm keeps up, I’m calling dibs on the big blanket tomorrow.”

She didn’t look over. “I’ll smother you with it.”

He chuckled, low and rough. “Sounds romantic.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was laced with something unspoken.

Something new.

The fire crackled, burning low and golden. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside, it felt distant. Muted.

Eventually, Harry stood and gathered their empty bowls, placing them in the sink before returning to the couch with a heavy sigh. He dropped beside her again, lounging like it was his right.

She gave him a look. “You have your own space.”

“And yet,” he said, propping his feet on the coffee table, “this couch is cozy. Candle-lit. Warm. And you didn’t tell me to leave.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to her book. She flipped a page, pretending to be immersed in the story—but his presence was louder than any paragraph.

After a few minutes, he tilted his head toward her.

“What are you reading?”

She didn’t look up. “You wouldn’t care.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not a comic or a sports article, so…”

He smirked. “You’re adorable when you’re judgmental.” She ignored that.

“Come on,” he said, nudging her with his foot. “Read it out loud.”

She glanced at him, confused. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Your voice is nice. And the wind sounds like it’s trying to eat the house. Distract me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“You owe me.”

“For what?”

“For feeding you. I could’ve made one bowl. I made two. That’s sacrifice.”

“That’s survival.”

“Still counts.”

She sighed, long and theatrical, then flipped back to the top of the chapter. “Fine. But if you interrupt me, I stop.”

He grinned and held up both hands. “Scout’s honor.”

Y/N cleared her throat and began reading, her voice steady and calm. The flickering fire beside them cast moving shadows along the walls, and Harry leaned back, watching her with quiet interest.

For once, he didn’t interrupt.

He didn’t tease.

He just listened.

She wasn’t used to that—not from him. But something about the way he was looking at her made her cheeks warm. Made her voice wobble just slightly before she caught herself.

She read until the end of the chapter, then gently folded the corner of the page and shut the book.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

Harry blinked slowly, like waking from a dream. “That’s where it ends?”

“Yes. Thats the end of the chapter."

“That’s criminal. Rachel’s about to ruin her life.”

“You were actually paying attention?”

“Obviously. She slept with Dex, Darcy's Fiance. There’s no turning back now.”

Y/N stared at him. “You know all their names?”

“I’m invested,” he said seriously. “You roped me into a soap opera.”

She laughed before she could stop herself—a soft, reluctant sound that made Harry smile wider.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered.

“And you,” he said, shifting closer, “are kind of cute when you read."

She scoffed. “You’re pushing it.”

He held out his hand. “Give me the book. I’ll read the next chapter.”

“You?”

“I have a British accent. It’ll be very dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes, but handed it over.

Harry adjusted on the couch, stretching his legs out with the book in his lap. He cleared his throat with exaggerated flair.

“Chapter Nine,” he announced in a mock-theatrical voice. “The morning after, I woke up feeling guilty… but not quite guilty enough.”

Y/N groaned, pulling the blanket over her face.

“Regret.”

“Shh. I’m reading.”

To her surprise, he wasn’t half bad. His voice, while occasionally dramatic for effect, dipped low and smooth at the right moments. His pacing was steady, and when he didn’t know a word, he rolled right through it like it didn’t matter. And it didn’t—not when he made the story sound like it belonged to him.

She peeked out from under the blanket and studied him quietly.

Harry’s curls had fallen into his face again, his lips moving softly with each line. His brow furrowed a little when the main character said something reckless. His mouth twitched into a smirk when the tension in the story spiked. He was... focused. Softened by firelight. And honestly, kind of beautiful.

Y/N blinked that thought away immediately. Nope. No. Absolutely not.

But then he stopped again—mid-sentence—and raised his brows with that familiar, knowing grin.

“Oh, this one’s good,” he said, holding the book up like it was evidence. Then he read, “‘I knew I was flirting. And I knew he was flirting back. But I also knew I wouldn’t stop.’”

Y/N groaned. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Harry looked over the top of the book, grinning. “You sure? Sounds familiar.”

“In what world?”

“In this cabin. Right now.”

“You are delusional.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “Maybe. But you’re smiling.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the curve of her mouth. “Back to reading, pretty boy.”

Harry paused. Blinked. Then slowly smiled—this time softer. More real.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Y/N opened her mouth. Closed it.

There was something in the way he said it—like it wasn’t a joke this time. Like he really wanted to know. And with the firelight flickering behind him, casting a golden glow on his skin and catching in his lashes, she couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t.

She looked away, fingers tightening slightly in the blanket. “Shut up.”

Harry chuckled, but the grin he wore wasn’t teasing now—it was warm. Gentle. The kind of smile that lingered, even after he turned back to the page.

He cleared his throat and read on, but Y/N wasn’t really listening anymore.

Because now she was the one sneaking glances.

And for the first time since they’d gotten snowed in…

She wasn’t sure if she hated it.

She turned her attention back to the fire—but it was no use. Her eyes kept drifting back to him. To the way he absently tapped the side of the book with his finger.

She didn’t realize she was slipping until her head gently tilted toward the arm of the couch. Her eyelids blinked slower. The warmth of the room, the steady cadence of his voice, the way her body had finally stopped fighting—all of it lulled her deeper.

By the time Harry flipped the next page, she was completely still.

He glanced over.

Y/N was curled up in her corner of the couch, her face relaxed, her lips parted slightly in sleep. One hand still held the edge of the blanket, like she’d tried to fight it, but lost.

He smiled to himself and lowered the book.

“You couldn’t hang, huh?” he whispered.

Carefully, he set the book down on the coffee table, then turned back toward her. She looked peaceful—peaceful in a way he’d never seen her. All the snark and sharp edges melted off, just warmth and soft lashes and slow breaths.

Harry hesitated.

Then he reached behind her, grabbed the throw blanket and gently draped it over her. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

He paused a moment longer, looking at her.

He’d spent years getting under her skin.

Teasing her, pushing her, watching her snap back at him with fire in her voice. And yeah, he’d loved every second of it. But this? This quiet moment, where she trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him?

It undid something in him.

“Goodnight angry,” he murmured.

He considered heading to his room, giving her space—but the warmth of the fire, the soft light of the candles, and her presence just a few inches away kept him still.

So he stayed.

He shifted gently onto his side of the couch, pulling the blanket over himself, careful not to disturb her.

And for the first time since arriving, Harry didn’t feel like pretending he didn’t care.

He closed his eyes, the storm still whispering outside, and let sleep take him too.

Y/N stirred in her sleep, the creeping chill tugging her gently out of her dreams. Her nose twitched. Her fingers flexed, brushing against something warm and solid.

That was the first clue something was… off.

The rest hit her all at once.

There was a strong arm wrapped snug around her waist. A warm chest pressed up against her back. A leg—oh god, someone’s leg—tangled over hers. And she wasn’t cold. Not really. Not where they were touching. She was actually kind of… cozy?

Still half-asleep, she nestled into the warmth, letting herself enjoy it for a moment. Whoever it was, they were warm and still and—

Wait.

That scent.

Cedarwood. Laundry detergent. Trouble.

Her eyes snapped open.

No. No, no, no.

She shifted her head slowly, heart beginning to race as her gaze dropped to the pale arm curled tightly around her midsection. That was not her blanket. That was a man. And that—

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice rasping out into the quiet.

In one sharp motion, she jolted upright like she’d just discovered a tarantula in her bed.

The blanket flew off, and Harry groaned behind her, arm flopping where she’d been.

“What the—”

He blinked up at her, bleary-eyed and confused, his curls a mess and his voice thick with sleep. “Why’d you move? We were warm.”

Y/N stared at him like she was trying to manifest fire from her pupils. “Were we cuddling?!”

Harry yawned. “It’s called body heat, sweetheart.”

She scrambled off the couch like she’d been electrocuted. “No. Nope. No, no, no.”

Still lounging on his side, Harry propped his head up with one hand, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For saving your life. It’s called survival cuddling.”

“I’d rather freeze to death.”

“You didn’t seem to mind a second ago.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Because damn it, she had liked it just for a second. Before she realized who it was. Before Harry’s obnoxious charm showed up at full volume.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like armor. “I must’ve been sleep-deprived. Or delusional.”

Harry stretched lazily, unbothered and still shirtless. “I’m a great cuddler, Y/N. It’s okay to admit that.”

“You spooned me like a heat-seeking missile.”

He grinned. “You were the one radiating warmth.”

She gave him a flat look. “You’re not cute.”

He shrugged. “You did call me pretty last night.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“Sure it was.”

Before she could fire back, a frigid gust whistled against the windows, and they both turned to glance at the hearth. The fire was completely out. Just ash and cold logs.

Y/N sighed and rubbed her arms. “Perfect. Now we’re actually gonna freeze.”

Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll get more firewood. Don’t go passing out without me.”

“Trust me,” she muttered, stalking toward the kitchen. “You’ve cured me of any desire to sleep.”

As he disappeared into the hall to grab wood from the closet, she watched him go—shirtless, annoyingly tall, and still wearing that smug grin.

She scowled.

And yet, the ghost of warmth where he’d held her still lingered. And for some reason… that annoyed her most of all.

By the time Harry dragged himself off the floor and toward the stack of firewood in the back room, Y/N had wrapped herself in a blanket so tightly she looked like a grumpy little burrito—warm, silent, and very much Not In The Mood.

The cabin was freezing—again. The fire had gone out overnight, and without power, the chill seeped into everything that wasn’t pressed up against the hearth.

She didn’t say anything as Harry disappeared down the hall. When he returned with an armful of logs, she watched from the couch—quietly, like a cat perched on alert. He didn’t speak either, just dropped to his knees and got to work rebuilding the fire.

It only took him a few minutes to get it going again—he was weirdly good at it, crouched low in his hoodie and sweats, sleeves pushed up, curls falling into his eyes as he coaxed flames from kindling like he did this all the time.

And maybe he did.

Which was somehow more irritating.

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, biting back the part of her brain that wanted to compliment him. Or at the very least... thank him.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

"Fire’s back," he said finally, brushing ash from his palms as he stood. The fire crackled again, warm golden light spilling across the cabin floor. “You’re welcome.”

She didn’t look up. “Congratulations on fulfilling basic survival instincts.”

"You really know how to say ‘thank you,’" he muttered, walking past her toward the kitchen. “And to think I was sensing improvement.”

Y/N didn’t respond. Instead, she reached into her tote bag and pulled out a tangled skein of golden-brown yarn and her favorite crochet hook—slipping into rhythm the moment the yarn touched her fingers. Hook. Pull. Twist. Loop. Her mind began to settle. A scarf, maybe. She didn’t care what it was. It was something to do with her hands while her brain spun in circles.

Across the room, she heard the familiar rustling of a duffel bag being unzipped. Water clinking into a small pot. The stove creaked open—still warm from last night—and a match hissed to life. No eggs this morning.

Just ramen. Again.

It was weirdly comforting.

She didn’t say anything, but her stomach did.

Harry didn’t even turn around. “Didn’t even argue this time. Growth.”

“I’m reserving my insults for later,” she said coolly, not looking up from her stitches.

“Save your energy,” he called back. “You’re gonna need it to slurp this world-class noodle masterpiece.”

“You mean boil noodles and dump powder in?”

“Gordon Ramsay’s shaking.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but kept crocheting. The crackle of the fire, the bubbling pot, and the smell of salty broth slowly warming the room—it was peaceful, in a weird, very not normal way.

Twenty minutes later, he appeared at the edge of her vision, holding out a ceramic bowl with a fork sticking out.

She eyed it warily.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, nudging it closer.

“Unless you count sodium as a weapon.” Y/N took the bowl with a soft grunt of thanks, still not meeting his eyes.

Harry dropped onto the floor beside the couch, cross-legged, cradling his own bowl. “We’ve officially peaked. Noodles by candlelight.”

“You’re romanticizing instant ramen,” she muttered, digging in.

He slurped dramatically. “That’s because this is romantic.”

She smirked, barely.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that was… not awkward. Not quite comfortable either. Something in between. Something new.

Y/N peeked at him once. Just once.

But of course, he caught her.

“What?” he asked, noodles hanging out of his mouth like a fool.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“I was judging.”

“Same thing,” he said, swallowing. “But go ahead, admit it. I make excellent apocalypse noodles.”

She considered. “They’re edible.”

“High praise,” he said, mock-bowing his head.

When she finished her bowl, she set it aside and reached for her yarn again. Harry leaned back on one hand and watched her fingers move.

“So… that your new scarf?”

“Maybe.”

He watched a little longer, then added, “You always crochet when you’re annoyed?”

She didn’t look up. “It’s either this or fight someone.”

He snorted. “You’re full of sunshine.”

She kept going, calm and rhythmic. “Crochet doesn’t talk back. Doesn’t flirt. Doesn’t leave its socks everywhere.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I do none of those things.”

“You flirted with a squirrel yesterday.”

“That squirrel was asking for it.”

Y/N choked on a laugh and shook her head. The moment stretched, softening like dough under a rolling pin. No tension. No snark. Just two people thawing—slowly—beside the fire.

Harry tilted his head, eyeing her half-finished piece. “Make me something?”

She looked at him like he had sprouted antlers. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I’ll wear it. And think of you every time I do.”

“That’s supposed to make me want to make you something?”

His grin widened. “Come on. I’d look good in something you made.”

Y/N paused, stared at him, then muttered, “A muzzle.”

Harry laughed—really laughed. Not one of his smug little chuckles or sarcastic scoffs, but a genuine, warm burst of amusement that crinkled his eyes and curled his dimples.

She wasn’t used to hearing that kind of laugh from him.

She definitely wasn’t used to liking it.And that unsettled her more than the blizzard howling outside. It cracked something open in her chest, something quiet and hesitant and unfamiliar.

They fell into an easy silence after that. The fire glowed steadily now, golden and soft, casting lazy shadows on the cabin walls. Their ramen bowls sat empty on the floor beside them. Y/N’s yarn moved between her fingers like it had a heartbeat of its own—loop, pull, twist, repeat. Soothing, steady. But her eyes kept drifting, flicking toward him more often than she wanted to admit.

Then Harry leaned forward and picked up the book they’d started the night before—the same one she’d read to him by candlelight. His thumb brushed over the dog-eared corner he'd folded down before he fell asleep.

“I could read a bit more,” he said casually, already flipping it open. “Unless you’re too busy knitting me a muzzle.”

“It’s crochet,” she corrected, without missing a stitch.

He smirked. “Still not denying it.”

“I’m considering gag options.”

“Charming,” he murmured with a grin, already settling back into the couch. He adjusted until he was half-reclined again, legs stretched out and the book open on his lap. The firelight danced across his face and the worn paperback, softening both in a way that made her throat tighten unexpectedly.

Y/N didn’t stop him.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t even roll her eyes.

Instead, she just kept crocheting as his voice filled the room again—low and warm and surprisingly steady, each word threading between them like another row in the blanket between her hands.

The fire crackled quietly, a low hum behind Harry’s words. Outside, the wind pressed against the windows like a whisper, muffled by thick snow. Inside, everything felt smaller. Closer.

Safer.

Before they knew it Time clicked away, Harry read without pause, his voice dipping with tension, rising with humor. The tips of his fingers tapped the page as he spoke. He didn’t rush. Didn’t perform. It almost felt like he forgot she was there—like he read for himself.

Y/N curled her legs beneath her and tried to focus on her stitches, but her hands were stiff with cold. The blanket wrapped around her wasn’t cutting it anymore. The fire helped, sure—but her body craved something more immediate. Something warm and alive.

Something like the man sitting next to her.

She told herself it was just the temperature. Just comfort. Just necessity.

But her body was already leaning before her mind caught up.

First, her shoulder brushed against his arm.

Harry’s eyes flicked to her, a quiet glance, but he didn’t stop reading. He didn’t flinch or shift away. Instead, he adjusted slightly, tilting the book so she could see the page better. His posture relaxed, the corner of the throw blanket brushing her knee now.

It was a silent invitation.

She didn’t pull back.

A few pages later, her knee nudged against his.

Then the blanket slipped off one shoulder, goosebumps rising instantly along her skin.

Without missing a word, Harry reached behind them, grabbed the thicker throw blanket draped over the couch, and gently, wordlessly laid it across both of them. His hand grazed her arm in the process—warm and steady, grounding her like an anchor.

Y/N’s breath caught.

It was subtle.

Barely anything.

But somehow… it was everything.

She didn’t lean away. Didn’t speak.

She just listened—to the story, to the fire, to the steady, deliberate rhythm of his voice beside her.

And when she finally let her hook fall into her lap, resting her yarn beside her, she didn’t even notice her head tipping onto his shoulder.

She should’ve shifted. Should’ve made a sarcastic quip. Should’ve rebuilt the distance they’d so carefully maintained since the moment they met.

But instead… she let it happen.

Harry didn’t speak. Didn’t tease.

His arm moved slowly behind her back, slipping across her shoulders and resting with gentle weight along the curve of her body. He didn’t squeeze. Didn’t pull. Just held her—warm and patient, as if he’d known all along she would fold eventually.

He read on like nothing had changed.

But it had.

Y/N sat curled beneath his arm, blanket pooled around them both, the steady rise and fall of his voice softening into something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time—safe. It wasn’t the story anymore that had her full attention. It was him. The way his chest moved beneath her cheek. The slow cadence of his breathing. The warmth that radiated off him like a second fire.

Her fingers twitched slightly beneath the blanket and—without meaning to—came to rest lightly over his chest.

Harry’s voice faltered for half a second. Barely noticeable. But she heard it.

He cleared his throat, blinked down at the page, and continued reading.

The book was hitting its emotional stride. Rachel was unraveling. Dex was making excuses. Darcy was still in the dark. The drama should’ve made Y/N roll her eyes—but now, it felt different. Like every word was being read not just aloud, but to her.

Specifically.

Intentionally.

And yet, it wasn’t performative. There was no smugness, no smirk on his face. Harry wasn’t playing a role anymore. He was just a boy reading a book, holding a girl who used to swear she hated him.

Somewhere around the middle of the chapter, her eyes started to flutter shut. Not from boredom. Not even from sleep. But from the calm—the peace—that had settled deep in her chest.

Her head dropped fully onto his shoulder. She felt his muscles tense just a little. Then relax again.

She didn’t mean to nuzzle closer.

But she did.

And he didn’t stop her.

His hand shifted slightly, brushing up her arm until it rested at the bend of her shoulder. The pads of his fingers touched her like she might disappear if he held too tight.

She didn’t.

She stayed.

By the time he finished the chapter, the room had gone quiet again.

He glanced down at her.

Y/N was still awake—barely—but her eyes were half-lidded, lashes brushing her cheeks, mouth parted the slightest bit. Her fingers were still resting against his chest. Her body tucked along his side like it had always belonged there.

Harry closed the book slowly and rested it on the table.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t want to break the moment.

Instead, he looked at her. Really looked.

She wasn’t scowling.

Wasn’t rolling her eyes.

Wasn’t biting back a sharp remark.

She just looked… soft.

Warm.

Real.

Like someone he hadn’t fully met yet—but wanted to.

He exhaled slowly and let his head fall back against the cushion. One arm still around her, his other hand drifted beneath the blanket and found her wrist, thumb brushing gently against her skin.

///

The room was quiet now.

Outside, the wind had calmed, settling into a gentle hush as snow drifted steadily from the sky. Inside, the fire burned low—an amber flicker casting long, slow shadows across the wood-paneled walls. The candles had melted into puddles at their bases, the scent of wax and cedar still hanging faintly in the air.

Y/N stirred.

She blinked slowly, breath catching as her brain registered warmth. Not just from the fire—but from beneath her. Around her.

Soft cotton brushed her cheek.

A rhythmic rise and fall pressed against her ear.

She was warm—warmer than she had been in days.

And then… she realized why.

She was in Harry’s lap.

Her entire body, tucked up in the fetal position, was curled over him like he was a makeshift mattress. Her head rested against his chest, right over his heart. One of his arms cradled her back, the other resting lazily on the armrest. Her legs were folded across the couch cushions—but she was definitely on him.

Panic flared first. Sharp and fast.

She jolted upright a little too quickly, like she’d just realized she’d been snuggling the devil himself. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

Harry, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open. His lashes were mussed, his curls a soft halo around his face, and his T-shirt was wrinkled from the weight of her cheek. He looked far too good for someone just waking up.

A crooked smirk curved his lips. “Well, well,” he murmured, voice deep and sleep-slicked. “Look who decided to wake up.”

She stared at him, still trying to get her brain to reboot. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“You were out cold,” he said, stretching slightly beneath her. “Didn’t move when I shifted. Or when the fire popped. Or when I put the blanket back on you.”

“I—” She paused, biting her lip. “I thought I fell asleep on the couch.”

He blinked. “You did. I just happened to be part of it.”

She groaned and flopped forward again, face hitting his chest with a muffled thud. “God. This is humiliating.”

“Disagree,” he said lightly, his fingers brushing her arm through the blanket. “You’re surprisingly cuddly.”

“I’m cold,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“You’re clingy,” he corrected.

“You’re annoying.”

“And yet, here we are.”

His arm was still around her—loose, casual, but firm enough to remind her just how close they’d gotten. Her hand was resting on his stomach, blanket slipped halfway off her shoulder, and she hadn’t even noticed.

She thought about pulling away again. She really did.

But the fire was barely burning, and his chest was warm, and his voice sounded like home in a way it had absolutely no right to.

So she stayed.

Harry didn’t say anything more. Just shifted a little to give her more room, then leaned his head back and exhaled softly through his nose. His fingers trailed slow, absentminded circles on the back of her sweatshirt—barely-there movements, rhythmic and comforting.

Y/N's pulse thudded louder in her ears.

This wasn’t just convenience. This wasn’t just about staying warm.

It was something else.

Eventually, she whispered, “You’re not… what I thought you were.”

Harry tilted his head just enough to glance down at her. “No?”

“I mean, you are. Kind of. But also not.”

He chuckled. “That clears it up.”

She pulled the blanket higher. “I mean… I thought you were all talk. Just ego and flirting and jokes.”

“I am.”

“But you’re also…” She trailed off.

Softer.

Sweeter.

Steadier than she wanted to admit.

Harry smiled lazily. “You can say devastatingly charming. I won’t stop you.”

She elbowed him lightly. “Shut up.”

He laughed again—low and genuine—and this time it tugged something loose in her chest.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. Just laid there, tangled under the blanket, breathing in sync.

Y/N’s eyes began to droop again. Her fingers curled loosely into the hem of his T-shirt. Harry’s hand never stopped tracing her back. The fire crackled, and somewhere between the silence and the comfort, she let herself drift off again

The morning sunlight crept in slow and honeyed, stretching long arms across the hardwood floors and casting warm halos around the quiet room. The fire had burned down to ash, leaving only a faint smell of smoke and the chilled hush of a new day. But still, there was warmth.

Because of him.

Y/N stirred, her face nestled against smooth cotton and bare skin. Her cheek rested squarely on Harry’s chest—his shirt nowhere in sight. One of his arms was tucked behind his head, the other curled tightly around her waist, anchoring her to him. Her thigh draped across his, tangled under the thick blanket that had slipped slightly to reveal the sculpted lines of his stomach.

She blinked slowly.

Took in the rise and fall of his chest beneath her ear. The way his hand rested just beneath her ribs. His scent—soap, firewood, and something inherently him.

And for the briefest, most dangerous moment… she smiled.

It was peaceful. Soothing.

Safe.

And then—the creak.

The front door groaned against the cold.

Voices.

Footsteps crunching snow on the porch. A laugh. A loud, familiar one.

Her heart stopped.

She jolted upright like she’d been electrocuted. “Oh my God—”

Harry stirred, a low sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. “What—?”

She was already wriggling out of his arms, panicking, shoving the blanket aside with a flurry of limbs and regret. Her bare foot hit the cold floor. “Shit, shit, shit—”

“Y/N?” he mumbled, voice gravelly and dazed.

Too late.

The door flew open with a ding from the old bell overhead, and cold air rushed in.

Jessica stomped into the cabin first, wrapped in a marshmallow of a puffer coat, cheeks flushed from the snow. “Y/N! You’re still alive!”

Y/N, halfway to standing, scrambled upright and grabbed the nearest throw blanket, hugging it around her like armor. She forced a tight smile, trying not to breathe like she’d just been sprinting across landmines.

“Hey,” she choked out. “Glad you made it safely.”

Behind Jessica, a second girl stepped inside—shaking snow from her coat, eyes bright and curious.

Taylor.

Long, shiny waves of chestnut-brown hair framed her face like a shampoo commercial. Her skin glowed against the cold, and her bright blue eyes immediately scanned the room like she was taking inventory of the space—and the people in it.

Y/N felt her stomach twist.

Not because Taylor wasn’t nice. But because she was perfect. The kind of effortless pretty that made you question your own reflection. And the way she looked at Harry when her eyes landed on him?

Well. That said enough.

Harry, who was only just now sitting up, blinked blearily, shirtless and still blanket-wrapped. His curls were messy. His voice was thick with sleep. “Morning…”

Taylor stopped mid-step, jaw slightly slack.

Jessica’s brows rose as her eyes ping-ponged from Harry’s bare chest to Y/N’s flustered appearance.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jessica asked, too casual to be casual.

Y/N snorted—too loud, too fake. “No. No! God, no. I was just… up early. Reading.”

Taylor blinked slowly, eyes still glued to Harry like she hadn’t heard a word. “Hi,” she said, smiling. “You must be Harry.”

Harry rubbed his eyes, squinting toward the sound of her voice. “Uh… I think so?”

Jessica smirked. “He’s usually a little more charming once he’s fully conscious.”

Taylor giggled, stepping farther into the room, but Harry’s gaze had already drifted past her—landing briefly on Y/N.

She wasn’t looking at him.

She was looking anywhere but him.

Still, he caught the way her fingers clenched tighter around the blanket at her chest. The flush across her cheeks that wasn’t from the cold.

Y/N turned her back quickly, darting toward the kitchen, mumbling something about tea.

Jessica didn’t miss it.

Behind her, Harry stood, blanket slipping down slightly as he stretched. His skin glowed in the morning light, shadows cutting across his arms and torso like artwork. Taylor’s stare was hungry. Obvious.

“Ohh its so cold in here” Taylor sad sweetly.

Harry yawned and reached for his shirt.

“Yeah. I’ll go grab some more firewood.”

As he padded past, Taylor turned to watch him, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip just slightly.

Y/N, from the kitchen, poured water into the kettle a little too forcefully.

Jessica leaned against the counter, one eyebrow cocked. “You good?”

“Peachy,” Y/N muttered.

Jessica smirked. “You’re glowing.”

Y/N gave her a look. “I’m actually coming down from high after thinking someone was breaking in to kill us.”

“Uh huh.”

Behind them, the door creaked again as Harry stepped into the back room to get firewood, and Taylor moved a little further just to watch him.

Y/N stared down at the tea kettle, face tight.

Jessica studied her best friend for a moment, then casually said, “So You and didn't kill each other?"

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harrystyles fanfic

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 9 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Summary: Lt. Riley sure has been taking a lot of smoke breaks lately. Strange that you always seem to disappear at the same time too.

Author's Note: Just a quick little one shot I came up with to get me back into the swing of things and give you all a little snack for what's to come.

“Again?” Soap questions as he watches the lieutenant stand up from the back of the table, cigarette pack in hand. “Ye have a real problem mate. Swear yer married te those things these days, always havin’ te go out fer another smoke. Ye should get some help fer yer addiction, L.T.”

Lt. Riley doesn’t stop to reply, moving his chair back in without missing a beat. “Maybe I’m just tryin’ ta have an excuse to fuckin’ leave so ya can’t persuade me into stayin’ for more of your inane drivel,” he returns dryly. “ ‘Sides, it’s gettin’ late.”

Soap rolls his eyes skeptically at the statement. “Whatever ye say,” he chuckles, brushing off the comment like nothing and letting the lieutenant walk off without consequence, something rare for the mouthy sergeant, but Lt. Riley is too preoccupied to pay it much attention.

From your place at the table, you carefully sneak glances to watch as the hulking form of your superior locks eyes with you for only a second before he makes his way over to the door of the mess hall and opens it to step out into the night air. You force yourself not to linger too long in his direction, redirecting your attention back to your fellow operatives that still sit around you chatting even though dinner had ended some time ago.

It doesn’t take long for the conversation to pick right back up where it left off, though you stay silent as you slowly try to fade yourself out of the group without anyone noticing your absence. The heated topic of the best explosive types has everyone engaged and you see your opportunity to leave and slip out undetected.

Too bad you don't notice a couple eyes dart your way before they turn back to one another to share a knowing look and a smirk. Yet nothing is said out loud and you make it out with incident.

Stepping out into the cool night, you find it odd that there are no signs of life near the door, no 6’4” military officer propped against the brick smoking. The unexpected absence makes your heart leap, but as you let your eyes adjust to the dark you catch movement off to your side. At the edge of the building you can just make out the dissipating wispy trail of vapor as it floats up towards the sky. Bingo, that’s what you are looking for. Turning your feet in the direction of the smoke, you make your way over, the soles of your shoes crunching over the gravel scattered along the ground and echoing off the walls of the building. You don’t have far to go and as soon as your body rounds the corner, your wrist is grabbed up by long fingers into the palm of a large, rough hand.

You know this grip intimately.

“Lookin’ for somethin’, pretty girl?” the familiar gruff voice hits your ears as your body is pushed back first into the rough surface of the wall.

Tilting your head up, you look directly into that skull-masked face and instantaneously a smile spreads across your lips. “Was looking for someone, actually,” you answer confidently, a bit of playfulness to your tone.

Hooking your thumbs through the front belt loops on his jeans, you pull him in closer so that he is pinned against you. “And wouldn’t you know, I just found him,” you say.

Fuck, did you have to play on his one weakness so early?

“Was wonderin’ when you’d fuckin’ break away,” he chuckles to disguise that fact that your little maneuver has caused his pulse to race violently through his veins.

Those large, greedy hands find their place on the curve of your hips and he wonders if you can feel his thudding heartbeat through his touch as he stands there in the silence with you. He’s waiting patiently for what comes next, the simple ritual you've developed that you put into practice whenever you’re alone together. Right now he is still under the guise of Ghost and only you can bring out the man behind the mask.

Searching his chest to find the neckline of his shirt, you dig your fingers inside and find the edge of the fabric keeping his face hidden from you. You tug at the balaclava to free it before you pull it up and off his features, bunching it together and pushing it to the top of his head so that he wears it like a beanie. And suddenly there he is: not Ghost, not Lt. Riley, but Simon, your Simon in the flesh once again.

“Didn’t want to make it too obvious,” you return as you take him all in, fingertips following the line of his cheek, “the others aren’t that oblivious; they’ll put two and two together if given enough clues. We could get caught, you know. How long till they figure out that I always seem to go missing whenever you go for a smoke?”

There is a coolness on your hip now as one of his hands finds its way around the back of your neck to hold you in place as his thumb smoothly caresses over the delicate skin of your cheek in long, slow strokes. “Don’t care anymore,” he mutters as his gaze lingers at your eyes before they drift down to your full lips. There is a yearning in his chest watching them part as he drags that same thumb heavily across the length and it blooms as he hears the quiet sigh you release at feeling his touch over that sensitive bit of skin.

“It’s gettin’ harder and harder ta keep my hands to myself whenever you’re ‘round.”

He leans in as he holds you steady by the back of the head, his face getting closer and closer until his balmy breath wafts over your bottom lip. It’s intoxicating the way the presence of your mouth lingering just out of reach makes the skin on his tingle with anticipation and he suspends you both in the tantalizing feeling of the moment for a few seconds without speaking, just letting the sensations play out.

The agonizing depth of his need pools in the pit of his stomach, making him clench his hand around your spine as it overwhelms his body. “Don’t wanna have ta keep holdin’ back.”

Being pressed against you, you can easily feel him take in a shuddered breath. “Get such a fuckin’ cravin’ for your lips sometimes it feels like I’m goin’ insane,” he whispers the words into your face, his nose gliding against the tip of your own as his mouth ghosts over yours until you tremble in his grasp as his temptation overwhelms you.

Your heartbeat pounds hard against your ribcage and you can hear it in your head. His intensity is enough to make you dizzy, your vision hazy at best as you are consumed with him and only him. No one has ever had this much control over you, but with Simon it is effortless the way he owns all the free space in your mind so that it takes the most minimal effort to have you falling apart, melting in his hands.

In the shadow of the mess hall, hidden in the dark with just you and him, the world seems to completely fall away. Whatever waits outside that moment for you both is forgotten, pushed aside to make room for the need you share for each other.

“Simon,” you moan his name, your eyes fluttering closed as your desperation overtakes you and leaves you begging for him to break the distance still between you.

God, the way his name falls so sweetly from your lips makes him just as feral now as it did the first time he heard you use it. He is insatiable in the way he is willing to do anything just to hear you say it again.

The air outside tonight is cool, but the atmosphere between your bodies is heated from the sticky, warm breath that you both share between your mouths, the proximity of your bodies, the rise in blood pressure that makes your skin hot to the touch. It’s getting harder to breathe and yet the thought of you pulling away from him before he can get his fill of you is torture.

“Swear I’ve never missed someone tha way I miss ya when I have ta stay away,” he says, followed quickly by a groan into your face as you place your palm on his sternum to feel the weighty rise and fall of his broad chest.

Your touch is exhilarating and suddenly his whole body is aroused as if struck by lightning. Unintentionally, his hips move on instinct and begin to grind into yours, the growing bulge in the crotch of his pants making him desperate for more friction and you immediately meet his need with your own. That last shred of his sanity is waning fast the more you both rub yourselves against each other until out of the haze filling his mind and distracting him from his goal he finally finds the last bit of clarity to speak before he completely falls apart.

“Christ, I will never get enough of ya, sweetheart.” And with a brief pause, Simon inhales and leans in hungrily to capture your lips with his.

His mouth dominates your own with urgency, as if at any moment you will be snatched from his hands and he will be left starving for the sensation of your mouth tangling with his.

Your back is slammed into the uneven texture of the brick, jagged bits of clay grating the skin of your back through your t-shirt from the force of your lieutenant aggressively capturing your mouth over and again. Sweet spit and heated lips mingling as he insatiably devours your kiss to leave a wreck of flesh behind on the lower half of your face that only burns for more of his embraces.

Shrouded in the dark your bodies melt together with yours being swallowed by the bulk of his, those bulging muscles along his abdomen pressing into you, pinning you to the wall until you can hardly catch your breath. You hold onto him to keep him from drifting, two tight fists balled up with his shirt as your need overwhelms every sense in an intensity that is shared like an electrical current through your bodies.

Large, coarse hands cup around your face, tilting your head upward to him as his tongue juts out from between his teeth and over his lips to prod against yours until you open your mouth and allow him to shove it in. That thick muscle fills the cavity full as he explores, feeling you, tasting you, memorizing the inside of your mouth. The nicotine on his breath is still pungent from the cigarette that is glowing discarded on the ground at your feet, its sharp notes dancing over the surface of your taste buds as you suck on his tongue.

His knee finds its way between your legs, pressing up into the wall behind you so that the bulk of his thigh is pushed against the mound of your sex, giving you access to something you can ride as your desire intensifies. The stimulation is like a catalyst and without hesitation you begin to roll your hips into it.

Simon is pawing desperately at your clothing to get beneath it and make contact with as much soft, warm skin as his hands can enjoy when a sudden loud clang somewhere close by breaks you both out of the spell of your lust. Two heads return side to side in search for the source of the noise, only to find that nothing is out of place. But the moment is broken and you are both now fully aware of how exposed you are just out in the open.

“Meet at mine after lights out, yeah?” Simon says through heavy panting, holding your face cupped between his hands as he struggles to gain back his composure, at least enough to cross base without drawing attention to himself and the bulge straining against the front of his jeans.

You nod, scrambling to regulate your own quick breathing.

He quickly pulls your face back in for one more feverish kiss before releasing you, pulling down his mask, and briskly heading off into the night. It's still about an hour you have left to wait and though you know that it isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, as you clench your thighs together, you know it won't come soon enough.

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neos127 · 9 months ago

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enhypen x fem!reader | brought the heat back

genre. toxic enha! established relationship + hcs cw. the boys are pretty toxic & manipulative notes. obv this isn’t how i believe they act irl! i was just inspired by bthb lyrics

heeseung . . . ‘why is he looking at you like that’, heeseung thought as the two of you were sitting in a cafe. to say he was a jealous person was an understatement— heeseung was very possessive. you were his and his only, why couldn’t people understand that.

“hee, calm down.” you mumbled, noticing the way he gripped the small coffee cup, the drink spilling onto his hand. heeseung sighed, letting you clean him up. as soon as you discarded the coffee covered wet wipe, heeseung immediately pulled you to his side, making you sit against him in the booth.

“heeseung…” you warned the boy, feeling his lips trace your neck. the man who had been looking at you prior looked away in embarrassment. you never really favored pda, but your possessive boyfriend certainly did.

“tell me that you’re mine. mine only.” he muttered in between kisses, causing you to blush furiously. you let out a nervous giggle before turning your head to meet heeseung’s eyes.

“i’m yours, always.”

jay . . . you were positive that jay’s arms hadn’t left your waist since you arrived at the party. whenever you two stood in a group, jay would stand behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder/head. any time a guy even glance at you, his grip would tighten. you had to stop jay from getting into a fight when a guy had approached you, trying to get you into one of the spare rooms.

jay had thrown his beer into the guy’s face, about to swing at his face before you pulled him away.

“jay…i was okay. i can handle myself.” you sighed as the two of you sat on the front lawn, waiting for his best friend to pick you both up.

“i know but, you’re my girl. they don’t even deserve to have the pleasure of looking at you.” jay muttered, his jaw clenching. you let out a curt laugh before reaching over and messing with his hair.

“and i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you replied, leaning over to kiss him.

jake . . . your boyfriend was acting like a child, and you weren’t too pleased about it.

“get off the phone.” he murmured against your ear before continuing his assault on your neck. you were positive that jake had left a couple hickeys on your skin already. he had been sucking on your neck and running his tongue over the marks constantly since you started your project. you were working on it with a male classmate and jake didn’t like that.

jake’s kisses only increased the more you ignored him, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting under your bra. you let out a soft moan, freezing when you realized that you were still on call.

“y/n, you okay?” your project partner, heeseung spoke up. before you could even get a word in, jake spoke up for you.

“she’s busy.” jake sneered before pressing the red ‘end call’ button on your phone. you turned to face the man, about to sold him but jake didn’t care. he interrupted you with a kiss, already lifting you out of your seat and towards your bed.

“it’s my turn to have your attention.”

sunghoon . . . you had never seen sunghoon so angry before, it was honestly worrying. you knew that your boyfriend was the jealous type, and his emotions were only heightened whenever he had a game. a member on the opposing team made a score, winking and making some crude remarks towards you. sunghoon already hated him, especially since he always seemed to hit on you.

your boyfriend was already pissed off so he absolutely lost it, throwing his helmet on the ice and roughly spitting out his mouth guard before slamming the guy against the wall of the rink. you didn’t pick up much of what sunghoon said, only a couple of curses here and there. the guy pushed sunghoon off which resulted in him swinging at his face. you gasped and stood up, watching as sunghoon was pulled away by his teammates.

he ended up receiving a red card and was chewed out by his coach before he stomped to the locker room. you followed after him, wanting to comfort your boyfriend who was obviously fired up.

“sunghoon! what the hell was that?” you called after him, nearly getting hit by the door on your way into the locker room.

“that dickwad is a piece of shit. i can’t stand him. especially when he thinks that he can just look at you without me wanting to pull his teeth out.” sunghoon snarled, his voice still raised as he paced around.

you frowned, putting a hand on his chest to try to calm him down. he stopped, taking a deep breath before placing his hand over yours and leaning against the lockers.

“you’re mine only. i can’t let other guys talk about you like that.” sunghoon said, leaning over to rest his forehead against yours. you smiled, finding his possessiveness to be a bit attractive. even though it got him benched for the next few games.

“don’t worry, i don’t accept attention from any other guy but you.” you whispered, running your thumb on his bottom lip.

sunoo . . . “who was that guy you spoke to earlier.” sunoo asked, cornering you in the kitchen one night. you jumped a bit at his presence, not expecting your boyfriend to still be up as you grabbed a glass of water.

“just a friend.” you replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal. to sunoo it was a big deal. he couldn’t stand the attention you would get from men, it made him extremely envious when you decided to be nice and engage.

“why were you smiling at him like that?” sunoo asked, his tone extremely calm but his gaze was hard and set on you.

“sunoo, he didn’t mean anything to me.” you replied, placing the glass down and walking over to sunoo. you rested your hands on either side of his face, giving him a reassuring smile. you knew how jealous your boyfriend could get, especially when it came to guys giving you their attention. if a guy happened to look at you for a second too long, sunoo felt like snapping their neck.

“he better not.” he mumbled before pulling you into a heated kiss.

jungwon . . . was it unfair of jungwon to rip you away from a lunch with your friend? possibly. but the friend was a guy, a guy who wasn’t your loving boyfriend. he couldn’t have your attention stolen by sim jaeyun when he was simply sitting at home bored out of his mind. so, jungwon called you up, pretending to sound sick so you would come to his apartment. he knew that he was your weakness, you would do anything for your precious jungwon.

so you excused yourself from lunch and raced to jungwon’s apartment, worried about your boyfriend. jungwon laid on his bed, putting a frown on his face as he explained that his ‘stomach ache’ was debilitating. you cooed at the boy, softly running your hands through his hair.

jungwon sighed, fighting back a small smirk. he finally had you to himself again…he was in heaven.

riki . . . the boy was fidgeting, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched a store clerk clearly flirt with you. he had been watching the guy ever since you two walked into the store, the punk had been waiting for a chance to get you alone.

“i was wondering if i could get your number?” the guy asked, pulling his phone out. you froze, feeling awkward already. you were about to tell him that you had a boyfriend before you felt a presence behind you.

riki towered over you, his height seeming to intimidate the store clerk in front of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist possessively, resting his head on top of yours.

“she’s taken.” riki said curtly, his eyes darkening as he stared down the guy in front of you. he nodded, quickly walking away without another word.

“riki…” you giggled, turning around to face your boyfriend who looked extremely pissed. riki had always been a jealous boyfriend and it was amusing to see how he subtly staked his claim over you.

“these idiots don’t deserve an ounce of your attention.” he grumbled, keeping an arm around your waist as he pulled you out of the store. you let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“riki, where are we going? i want my snacks.”

“a different store without that asshole.”

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meinii · 3 months ago

Text

“mine.”

summary: Caleb can be mean, especially when he gets jealous

content: SMUT (18+), possessiveness, jealousy, underwear gets ripped,teasing, begging, he cums inside, breeding

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

you went out partying with your friends, it was supposed to be a calm girls night

or at least that’s what you had told Caleb.

he also had a night out with his friends, little did you know– you would’ve ended up in the same club.

you were sipping your drink, dancing with some stranger and just enjoying your night

unaware to you, someone on the other side of the room was not enjoying his night at all.

his eyes glued on you, the sway of your hips, the way your lips hugged the straw from your drink and, of course, the guy who kept trying to touch you.

he was fuming, thoughts running in his head, he wanted to punch that loser who got the honor to dance with you, he wanted to pull you away and remind you that you’re his, and only his.

suddently you felt a warm body touching your back, his hands clinging around your hips and pushing you towards him as you looked over– Caleb was here.

he was staring at the guy with a killer stare, the guy getting the signal just leaves you two alone, he doesn’t really need that trouble

“calm girls night uh?” he whispered in your ear

you swallowed hard, your body tensing as Caleb’s grip on your hips tightened. the heat of his breath tickled your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his voice was low, controlled—but you could hear the underlying edge of irritation.

you turned around slowly, forcing a small, guilty smile. “it was supposed to be,” you murmured, placing a hand on his chest as if that would calm him.

Caleb let out a sharp exhale, his jaw clenching as his eyes flickered down to your barely-there dress, then back up to your lips

“didn’t look that way from where I was standing” his fingers traced small circles on your hip, but the possessive grip never eased.

you glanced over at his group of friends, who were watching with amused smirks, clearly enjoying the show. your own friends were nowhere to be found, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“are you mad?” you asked, tilting your head, knowing damn well he was.

his eyes darkened, and he leaned in until his lips nearly brushed your ear.

“you tell me,” he murmured “do I look like a man who enjoys watching his girl dance with another guy?”

your breath hitched. Caleb was intense—he always had been. but something about seeing him like this, raw with jealousy, sent thrill through you.

before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and started leading you through the crowd. “where are we going?” you asked, your heart racing.

he didn’t stop, didn’t even look back as he replied, “somewhere I don’t have to watch other guys put their hands on what’s mine.”

he led you to his car, still opening the passanger seat door for you– he’s angry not a brute

the tension in the car was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and Caleb's frustration. his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched as his eyes stayed fixed on the road. the muscles in his forearms flexed with every sharp turn, his grip tightening each time he replayed the scene from the club in his head.

you shifted in your seat, your skin still warm from the way his hands had claimed you on the dance floor. he was pissed —but you could tell it wasn't just anger. it was something deeper, something primal. he hated feeling like he had to compete for you. hated the idea of someone else touching what was his.

"Caleb," you finally spoke, your voice softer than you expected.

his fingers twitched against the wheel, but he didn't respond.

you reached out, resting your hand on his thigh. that got a reaction. his jaw ticked, his grip on the wheel tightening as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"you're mad," you said, as if it wasn't obvious.

he let out a low, humorless chuckle. "mad doesn't even begin to cover it."

you bit your lip, suppressing the smirk that threatened to form. you should probably feel guilty, but a part of you-the reckless, teasing part-liked seeing him like this.

possessive. needing to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

the car pulled up to his house, and before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Caleb was already out, slamming the driver's side door shut. he walked around to your side, yanking the passenger door open, and suddenly he was leaning in, his face inches trom yours.

"out," he ordered, voice low and firm.

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, stepping out of the car as he shut the door behind you. the moment you turned to face him, his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"you think this is funny?" he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration, his eyes searching yours.

you swallowed hard, the heat of his body against yours sending a thrill through you. you knew you shouldn't push him, but something about seeing him this possessive and jealous was making it difficult to resist.

"I..." you began, but your words trailed off as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck. his lips brushed against your skin, a featherlight caress that sent shivers down your spine.

Caleb's grip on your waist tightened as he leaned in even closer, his mouth moving to the sensitive spot just below your ear. he nipped softly at the skin, and you let out a small gasp, unable to resist the wave of desire coursing through you.

Caleb pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intent and heated. "inside" he commanded, his voice a low rumble

without another word, he took your hand and led you to the house, his grip firm and possessive.

as you walked into the house, you felt the heavy weight of Caleb's presence behind you. every step you took seemed to ignite the tension between you.

once inside, Caleb closed and locked the door behind you, his eyes raking over your body

you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way it traced every curve of your body, as if he was memorizing every inch of you

Caleb crossed the distance between you in two strides, his hands cupping your face as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss

his mouth was hot and demanding, his tongue tangling with yours as he backed you up against the wall.

he broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, "mine." before his mouth was on yours again

he walked you backwards towards his bedroom, his body pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your skin.

It was like he was trying to erase any trace of that other guy who had touched you, replacing it with his own claim

Caleb pushed you onto the bed, his body looming over yours as he followed you down. he kissed you like a man starved, his tongue and teeth leaving no inch of your skin unexplored

he pulled back slightly, his hands glided down your sides, skimming over the fabric of your dress, teasing the skin beneath.

he leaned in, his lips tracing a path along your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh

“you look so damn good in this dress,” he murmured, “I should’ve been the one dancing with you tonight”

his fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, slowly inching it higher, revealing more of your thighs

“but you weren’t thinking about me, were you?” he asked, his lips hovering close to your ear

"I was just having fun" you muttered, your voice breathless as his fingers traced patterns along your inner thigh, so close and yet so far from where you wanted him

Caleb let out a mocking chuckle, his mouth descending to your neck, his lips hot and firm against your skin

"is that so?" he murmured, his hand moving higher, his touch teasing and maddening.

he suddenly withdrew, his eyes dark with determination.

“now,” he said, “I’ll be the one having fun.”

with a swift, fluid motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his hands pinning your wrists to the bed

without any warning, his hands moved to the hem of your panties, and with a swift, determined motion, he tore the fabric apart. the sound of it ripping echoed in the room, and the feel of it sent a shiver down your spine

he put his tip near your entrance, teasing you

a moan came out of you “please–“

“say it,” he started playing with your clit “say that you’re mine”

that’s all he wanted, you’re his and everyone needs to know it

“I’m yours” your breath unsteady “I’m yours Caleb, please”

a satisfied smirk was plastered on his face as he finally buried himself inside you, he was giving it to you so hard you couldn’t help but keep moaning his name as your eyes rolled back

“I’ll make sure everyone knows it” his voice low

“I’ll mark you for life” his pace becoming sloppier as you start pushing your hips back into him

“we’ll build the perfect family and everyone will know how easily you come undone under my touch”

so he came inside you, filling you up just like he always dreamed of ૮꒰ྀི > . < ꒱ྀིა

#lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x you #caleb smut #lads #lads x reader #lads smut #smut #x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #lnds smut

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cutielando · 3 months ago

Text

strip poker | lando norris

synopsis: in which a simple flight from Africa turns into something fun and endearing

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

Flying with Lando was always a fun endeavor.

Why?

Mainly because you never knew which side of him you were going to get.

He would either get very quiet and sleep and cuddle with you the entire flight, ignoring everybody around him; or, he would go wild, demand that everybody entertain him because he was bored and he wanted to play something with everyone.

And this time, as you were on the flight back to Monaco with Lando, Oscar and a couple other people from the team, it was the latter side of Lando that made an appearance.

Which is precisely the reason how they ended up playing strip poker, while you opted to sit it out and read your book on your Kindle device.

Even though Lando had begged you to play with them (mainly because he wanted to see you in less clothes than you were wearing, of course).

"Please? Just one game and then you can rest" he had whined, his lips jutted out into a cute pout which almost made you change your mind.

Key word: almost.

You shook your head, giggling at Lando's antics.

“I’m no good at poker, and I really don’t feel like having you explain everything to me a thousand times because we both know I won’t get it” you said, smiling fondly at him.

It was true, unfortunately.

Lando had always loved a good game of poker, especially with Max and his close friends.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t understand the game for the life of you. Yes, you would get the basics, but everything beyond that was just too much for you.

Not to mention that your poker face sucked ass.

“Are you sure? I’m sure Oscar wouldn’t mind” he said, giving it one last try.

Oscar, having been setting up the game next to you, turned his head towards you and nodded with a friendly smile.

Oh, he was too innocent for Lando’s version of poker.

“I’m sure. I have a really good book here, I’ll be fine. I’ll take a peek from time to time to see how you’re doing” you said, patting his cheek before pecking his lips and pushing him towards Oscar.

He huffed but agreed, eager to finally show Oscar how the Norris men played poker.

♡♡♡♡♡

"NO! You're cheating, I refuse to believe this, Oscar!" Lando's loud voice boomed through the small cabin of the plane.

For the past hour, there was only soft chatter and laughter gravitating your way from where the boys were playing poker.

Then, slowly and gradually, the laughter started to cease, only to be replaced by Lando's shrieks and accusations of cheating thrown at Oscar and other members of the McLaren team that were flying with you guys.

Giggling to yourself, you looked up from your Kindle and saw that Lando was taking off his sweatshirt, leaving him topless and furiously red in the face.

"What's going on?" you asked, biting your lip as you looked at the group.

Lando didn’t say anything, but his face was doing all the speaking for him.

He was fuming, staring daggers at Oscar while the Aussie couldn’t stop laughing at his antics.

“Lando is just a sore loser” Oscar said after he finally let his laughter die down.

“That’s not true! YOU’RE CHEATING” Lando shouted back, making both you and Oscar laugh even louder than before.

You threw your head back and kept laughing at how your boyfriend was adamant that Oscar was somehow cheating, all the while he was pouting as he stared back at you with a defeated look.

“It’s not funny, you know” he said as he got up to stretch, making his way over to your little reading corner you had set up for yourself.

You smiled, reaching up to hold his cheek in your hand.

“We both know it’s hilarious, baby” you cooed, scrunching your your nose as Lando glared at you.

He hated it when you babied him in front of other people, but you knew he secretly enjoyed it, but just didn’t want to admit it.

“Can you come play now? I’m bored and I’m losing because you aren’t playing with me” Lando said, pouting.

You cocked your head, prepared to argue with him because you weren’t feeling it.

But when you saw the desperate look in Lando’s eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him.

And so you found yourself sitting next to Lando, losing impeccably at the game of poker against Oscar and the other team members.

Article after article of clothing was flying off of you, but Lando suddenly became aware of the fact that if you lost another game, you would have to take off your hoodie and show your bra to the other guys, which is when he put a stop to the game.

“Okay, that’s enough for today” he had suddenly said, after you had lost yet another round of poker and was starting to take off your hoodie.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed, your hoodie already half-way off, just under your bra.

Lando huffed, taking your hand and pulling you up with him back to your little corner on the plane.

He guided you to sit down in your seat, got you settled and then sat down next to you, shuffling until he was resting his head on your chest.

You brought your hand up to twiddle with the strands of his curls, enjoying the soft hair beneath your fingers and scratching Lando’s scalp, something he loved beyond words.

“Why did you stop the game so suddenly? I thought you had wanted me to play with you guys” you asked, your tone quiet so nobody else would hear you.

Lando huffed, burying his head further into the fabric of your hoodie.

He mumbled something into your chest, but the fabric in the way blocked everything out, preventing you from understanding what he was saying.

"I can't hear you, Lan" you said softly, craning your neck to look at him better.

He sighed and lifted his head slightly, still pouting.

"I said, I didn't want the others to see you without your clothes on" he murmured, and understanding suddenly washed over you.

If you were being honest, you hadn't even thought about that.

McLaren was just as much your second family as it was Lando's, and you'd never shied away from any of them, being very comfortable with every member of his team.

But you realized that while you loved them all equally like your brothers, the thought of any of them seeing you naked wasn't particularly comfortable to you.

Especially Oscar, who was shy enough and introverted as it is.

"Oh, I completely forgot about that part when I said I'd play. I'm sorry, I should've said no" you said, softly running your hands through his hair and caressing his cheek.

Lando sighed and got up, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and helping you settle in his side.

"I should've thought about that before I asked you to play with us. Stupid me" he murmured, his lips now pressed against your forehead.

You giggled, not bothering to contradict him because you knew he was partially correct.

And that's how, instead of continuing the game of strip poker, the two of you spent the remaining of the flight cuddled into each other, snoozing softly.

With Lando still topless and mad he had lost.

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grimesbunny · 4 months ago

Text

earn your spot

rick grimes

cw mean rick (?) face fcking. dirty talk / dumbification

summary: you get turned on by rick scolding you and make it up to him with mindblowing sloppy. i hate writing bjs #menshouldneverfeelpleasure but it’s rick. sooo like.

you always feared for the day you’d be on the receiving end of rick’s rage, much less his disappointment. but you should’ve realized you were setting yourself up by being on your best behavior since the group rescued you. gunning for the loyalest soldier category set expectations a smidge too high, made your mistake seem all the more dire. you can’t remember what exactly you did — veering off of rick’s plan slightly on your last run in with walkers because you assumed your role couldn’t be that important — but you jeopardized the safety of the group and that’s all that matters. it’s hard to recall all the tiny details when you have a man scolding you about the principle.

it’s not like you haven’t seen him angry before, quite the opposite— you’ve witnessed a height of his rage once and it’s stuck with you ever since. rick’s the type of person you don’t want to upset, and not just because you’re intimidated, but because he has a sense of honor about him that makes you admire him. makes you want to please him and be labeled good in his book.

you knew you were fucked after being shooed away by him like an insistent fly while on the run. exiled to wait in the car on “lookout.” the ride back to the prison is eerily silent, and your muscles ache with how tense they are by the time he finally unloads. he has the decency to pull you to the side, away from watchful eyes, but his voice carries.

it’s a chastising. there’s no other word for it. the tears that sting the corners of your eyes are to be expected— you could never handle being reprimanded very well— it’s the heat gathering in your core that comes as a shock. rick’s dirty and disheveled from the run, sweat sticking his curls to his forehead while his eyes bore into yours. seemingly looking past your pout and glistening stare.

“are you questioning my judgment, kid?”

you can’t tell what’s meant to be rhetorical or not at this point, but you shake your head anyway, a nervous laugh pushing from your wobbly lips. “of- of course not.”

“then help me understand.” he says, almost defeatedly. he’s got you caged in at this point, unconsciously backing you further into the grimey prison wall. “i laid out the instructions clear and simple for you, did i not?”

with you being new, and rick being pulled in three different directions every five seconds, it’s not often that you have his full attention like you do now. never for this long, especially. it’s pathetic, but you don’t know what to do with it. you shrink in on yourself, thighs clenching together while your face grows warmer and warmer.

“i thought you were smarter than this. if you can’t handle a run, i think we need to rethink your role here.”

“no!” you exclaim. flashbacks to being all alone out there for so long ring through your mind. “i can handle it, rick. i’m sorry, i fucked up, i wasn’t thinking.”

“i don’t think you fully grasp that when we’re out there— it’s life and death. there’s no room for you to turn your brain off.” he lightly taps the side of your head for emphasis, and you involuntarily lean into the contact. it makes his eyes go curious, brows caving in just slightly. “it’s us or them. i can’t have another threat— another liability out there. or you may as well join ‘em.”

his words pierce you in the stomach like a knife. the whirlwind of conflicting emotions is making your head spin, and you reach for his arm for stability without thinking. “rick… i understand. i promise you, i do. i won’t disobey you again.”

his gaze slowly drops and lands on the contact in what feels like several heavy seconds. you’re frozen in place, unsure of whether to let go or not. the muscle of his arm relaxes when he meets your eyes again.

“i’m… disappointed. i’m trying to do right by you, but i need you to show me that you want to be here.” the way his voice has dropped an octave is distracting, and you feel the words as much as you hear them. feel them as a tingle up your spine, a pulsing that blossoms in between your thighs.

if you allowed yourself, you might wonder if he was talking about the run anymore.

“i do.” you nod. feeling emboldened, you squeeze his arm, eyes widening up at him intently. “how can i prove it to you?”

his eyes darken, and a smug sense of pride swells in you at the way his mouth drops open but no words come out. his eyes do a quick sweep of the area the two of you are in. empty cell block. secluded. alone.

“what are you asking for?” he tilts his head, almost challenging. “do you even know yourself?”

a lapse of confidence suddenly makes you hesitate. before you go to apologize and maybe run out of the room, rick speaks again.

“yeah, you know good and well, don’t you?” he whispers it like a thought between the two of you. “christ, i’m tryin’ to talk some sense into you and you’re lookin’ at me like…” he trails off, eyes dipping down to your lips. and then he laughs, turns his face and shakes his head.

“like— like what?” you feign innocence. pulling as he’s pushing.

he takes a step closer you didn’t know was possible, and you can feel the ghost of his weight against yours.

he seems to consider his next words. “do you know how distracting it is to have to watch you blink at me like that whenever i speak, like i’m some kind’a god? watch you fein for my attention, knowing i’d be the bad guy if i gave it to you how i want to?”

you’re too stunned to speak. from where you stand, any sudden movements and he might back away, might talk himself out of whatever it is that the two of you are building up to.

“you like it, don’t you? teasing me until i snap. i bet…” he sucks in a breath, and you hold yours in anticipation. the hand of the arm you’re holding tentatively comes to rest on your hip. “if i were to reach my hand down you’d be soaked through these tiny shorts.”

you gulp down all the saliva that has collected in your throat. your heart is thumping so hard you feel like he can hear it as you take it upon yourself. guiding his hand where you want it the most, where you’ve dreamt of it several times. his fingers slide against your clothed lips, and sure enough, you can feel the dampness accumulating.

“fuck.” he breathes out. his resolve seemed to crumble, head dipping as his free hand goes to pin you against the wall. “get this wet whenever i talk to you? hm?”

you nod quickly. might as well not hold anything back, now that you’re finally in the position you’ve been craving since you laid eyes on him.

“cmon, what’s got you all quiet now, honey? i thought you could handle it?” his fingers have gone greedy, attempting to circle your clit through your clothing. the friction feels like heaven, and you can’t stop yourself from bucking into his hand. “i thought you wanted to prove it to me?”

“fuck, yeah. i want to.” all you can seem to do is nod, desperate with it. your eyes dart to the tent in his jeans. it looks so hefty, thick and bulging. you’ve never wanted to see anything more in your life. “i want to make it up to you, rick. earn… earn back my spot here. just tell me what to do.”

“yeah?” he dips his head lower to force eye contact with you again. you take your hand and gingerly glide your fingers along the outline of him pressed against his jeans, bottom lip catching between your teeth. he doesn’t move, keen on letting you feel for yourself. “well… i‘m not sure if you can take it.”

the faux sympathy in his voice almost makes you whimper. “i can, i promise. please.”

he reached down to undo his gun holster and it’s all you need to hear to drop to your knees, forcing back a wince at the impact from the cold floor. he leaves it to you to unzip his pants.

“look at me.” he orders, the authority in his tone gives you no choice but to oblige instantly. he’s larger than life above you, and somehow a much hotter view from below. it spurs you on, makes you more eager to free his cock from its confines.

you pull his pants down just enough to watch it spring out. nothing could’ve prepared you for it; long and thick and meaty, already leaking from the swollen, red tip. the sight makes you audibly whine, much to rick’s amusement.

“never seen a cock before, sweetheart?”

“never this big.” you admit, squirming to get some friction on your cunt. that draws a noise out of him, and you watch his cock twitch with it.

you grasp it hesitantly, looking up at him to check for his reaction. it’s been a long time since you’ve done any of this, and it’s not like you had much experience in the first place. you don’t want to disappoint him.

under the weight of his gaze, you reach out to place a kiss to his tip, letting his precum ooze onto your lips. his hips buck forward slightly into your mouth.

“christ, aren’t you pretty like this?” he sighs.

you feel yourself blush, kitten licking his tip to hide your smile as you gaze up at him. his eyes are lidded, his patience showing on his face. finally, you wrap your lips around his spongy head, suckling gently.

“alright, none of that. you don’t get to tease anymore.” he soothes your hair into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, using it as leverage to begin moving your head at the pace he wants. he stuffs your throat all too quickly, your gags and moans muffled by the girth of him filling your mouth. it’s too much and not enough at once, and for the second time today you feel yourself about to cry. “just fuckin’ take it.”

it’s messy and suffocating, but you can’t think of any place you’d rather be than on your knees for him, letting him use your mouth to get off.

“your throat — feels so perfect, baby. about time i put this pretty mouth to good use, huh?” he chuckles breathlessly. you grasp his strong thighs for purchase, willing him to slow down. “i should’ve known this is what it would take to get you to listen. you just needed your fill, didn’t you?”

you nod as best as you can, eyes wide up at him. merciful, he pulls you off to let you breathe, watching a line of spit follow your lips. his dick is covered in it, glistening and raw. you splutter, and somewhere down the line the tears you felt had started flowing freely down your cheeks.

“rick,” your voice cracks pitifully. “it hurts.”

“i know, but you can take it, remember? you’re a big girl.” he places a hand sweetly on your jaw, rubbing his tip against your spit-soaked lips. “gotta be good at something if you want to stay here.”

the throbbing of your knees is overpowered by the ache in your cunt. you can’t believe the predicament you’ve found yourself in.

“you don’t have to think anymore, sweetheart. not good at that today anyway, hm? just relax your jaw and let me in.” he coaxes, pushing past your lips. you do as he says, letting your jaw go lax and his lips stretch into a mean grin. “there you go.”

all it takes is a few more thrusts of his hips. the sight of you with tears streaming down your face, squirming all over your heel for friction on your clit. the feeling of your warm throat constricting around him. he pulls out abruptly, and you watch intently as he rapidly fists his cock.

“here it comes, baby.”

he’s aiming for your face, but you stick your tongue out, desperate to take catch some of his seed on your tongue. his orgasm is ripped out of him, shooting off thick ropes that never seem to end.

you swallow it happily, yet somehow your smile is still bashful afterward.

he’s panting, shaking his head. “what am i going to do with you?”

#rushed ending AS SLWAYS😭😭🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️#rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #twd x reader #twd smut #the walking dead smut #the walking dead x reader

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webbluvrsugar · 6 months ago

Note

so how abouttt bully reader messing with ethan by flirting with him & she’s like kinda teasing him in that way bc she knows he has a big fat crush on her

kinda like regina george energy a little bit where she acts soo nice as a way of mocking you dhzbsb

or alternatively,, alison dilaurentis’ energy towards emily fields iykyk🙂‍↕️

a/n: this really hit the spot!! Also sorry for taking so long to write this T-T

not proofread

﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆. ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭ Ethan has a big fat crush on bully!reader

Ethan keeps telling himself he needs to stop telling Chad everything, sure the guy is his best friend but he’s also completely awful at keeping secrets and he always ends up telling someone. So Ethan didn’t really believe him when he said “Chill man, your secret’s safe with me.”, he knew he would tell someone, he just didn’t expect he would tell you and that you would be so forward to make him know you know.

The group decided to go to the movies and while everyone finished paying for their tickets, you and Ethan waited in line to get your popcorn. It didn’t take more than 5 minutes without your phone for you to turn your attention to him and remembered what Chad told you when you were both passed out drunk, a mumble of incoherent words which you could only make out to be “Ethan is toootally in love with you.”

“So… Ethan..” you say, sultry, he turns his attention to you almost unsure.

“Yeah?” He questions, steps forward when another person leaves the line.

“Chad told me you had a crush on a girl at campus, soo cute,” you smile, he returns the smile nervously. “you’ll finally get to — I don’t know — hold hands and walk around for the first time.”

He slightly blushes, holds his hands together as he slowly nods at you.

“Well.. yeah but it’s not exactly like that…” he tries to explain.

“Who is she?” You question, fiddle with your hair as you take another step closer.

Now, Ethan doesn’t want to exactly tell you who the girl is, but he also doesn’t know how to cover himself up for the mess Chad made — jesus, he really needs to reevaluate his friends.

“You wouldn’t know her.”

Surely, you’ll drop it, right?

“Come on, I know every single soul in that place, even the weird ones like you.” You push, lean into him with a soft smile.

You finally get your turn, Ethan hands the ticket to the cashier before he nervously turns to look at you. “No but she’s just… like… uhhhh…”

“You don’t need to pretend, Ethan, I know you like me.” You chuckle, lean onto the counter as you wait. “It’s kinda cute, you know? You have that little fantasy in your mind.”

He swallows, his lips press onto a line as he grabs his popcorn and his drink, slowly nods towards you.

“I wonder what other shit you think about in that room of yours.” You smirk, glance at your popcorn and than back at him.

Ethan sighs and rolls his eyes, makes an effort to grab your stuff too. He doesn’t know why he does it, but you flash him a smile of approval that makes him forget he’s being humiliated right in front of the others as you walk inside the dark rooms of the theatre.

And when the movie is playing the most cheesy, romantic scenes you’ve seen, you can’t help but turn to Ethan, lay a hand in his thigh, maybe taking a sip of his drink and leaving that glossy pink mark around his straw.

He’s not thinking about how he carried your drinks anymore.

He’s much more focused on that small little detail instead of the movie, it even makes him move the popcorn to hide something else.

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viasdiary · 4 months ago

Note

actual freaky req😓 i cant stop thinking ab luigi being a camp counselor. i was wondering if u can make a smutty long fic ab u being a counselor too or smn on the camp wtv and having a crush on him and he has to like walk u to ur cabin one night and it gets freaky and u guys like gotta be quiet.?!? idk i feel like i need it #ovulation😭

i lowkey freestyled so this is hardly porn with plot, it's just like pure smut 😭 this request was great though i loved writing it

☆ worth the wait (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ warnings: rough sex, overstim, teasing

☆ word count: 2.9k

you weren’t sure when it had started. maybe it was when he first smiled at you during the camp orientation, that wide grin that somehow made you feel like the only person in the room. or maybe it was the way his eyes would occasionally flicker toward you, like he couldn’t quite help himself. his attention always seemed just a little more intense, a little more personal than what you had grown used to.

he was beautiful. you’d felt that way since the first time you’d laid eyes on him. his soft dark curls, the two freckles delicately placed on each side of his perfect smile, his strong nose bridge, his sharp jawline - you’d been studying every single detail about him this past summer, and sometimes if you looked close enough, you’d see him studying you too.

he wasn’t overt about it — luigi wasn’t the type to make his interest obvious. but you saw right through him. you felt the way his gaze lingered a second longer than necessary when your paths crossed. little things, like the way his eyes moved slowly over your face before dropping lower, tracking the way your shirt clung to your body, damp from the heat.

it was torturous, seeing him, being near him, but never having him. you’d stare at his strong arms, his broad shoulders, wondering what holding him would feel like. your attraction bordered obsession, and as the camp came to an end, you wondered if you’d ever have him — or even be able to tell him how you felt.

you glance over at him, standing near the door of the main cabin, hands in his pockets, chatting with a couple of other campers. he has that same relaxed look on his face.

"hey, lu" you say when you reach him, barely loud enough to be heard over the clatter of voices in the background.

he turns, that easy smile spreading across his face.

"hey," he replies, voice low. "what’s up?"

you shrug, trying to stop the smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips.

"nothing. just thought i should let you know i’m about to turn in for the night."

his brow furrows for a moment, like he’s weighing your words. his eyes flicker over your face, then back to the group of campers, but he doesn’t look away. something shifts between you, a quiet understanding. he pushes off from the doorframe, moving closer.

"it’s kinda early," he says, his voice dropping lower. "you sure?" he asks.

you meet his eyes, the tension hanging heavy between you.

"yeah, but i… i could use a little company before i do." you hint, a slight chuckle escaping your mouth.

his smile widens just a little, eyes darkening as he looks you over.

"company, huh?" his gaze flickers briefly down to the ground and then back up to meet your eyes. "and what kind of company do you have in mind?"

you can’t help the small shiver that runs down your spine. you give him another look—a silent invitation. you take a slow step toward him, until you’re standing just a little too close, so close you can feel the heat of his body, smell the faint trace of his cologne. your heart beats faster, and when you glance up at him, you can see the way his breath catches. he doesn’t move away.

“i think you know,” you say softly. "just... come with me." the words come out quieter this time. you can feel your pulse racing, but you don’t back down. not now.

he’s quiet for a moment, studying your face like he’s trying to make sure this isn’t just some game. he’s so close now, the tension between you both so thick you can barely breathe. then, finally, he nods, his lips curving into something far more knowing.

"well, alright," he says grinning. "lead the way."

you don’t waste another second. you turn, walking quickly toward the small cabin where you’ve been staying, his footsteps following closely behind you.

when you reach the door, you pause, hand on the knob. you push the door open, stepping over the threshold, and taking a seat on the bed. luigi trails behind you, closing the door and taking a seat next to you. you turn to face him, your chest tight with anticipation. his brown eyes are locked on yours, following every movement you make, and for a moment, neither of you says a word.

"so," you start, your voice trembling a little as you try to make yourself steady. "i’ve been thinking about this for a while."

he seems so amused at how flustered you are. he moves a bit closer, his hand reaching for your arm.

"yeah?" his lips brush lightly against your ear as he speaks, sending a shiver down your spine. "and what exactly have you been thinkin’ about?"

you can’t hold it in anymore. you need him—need the weight of his body, the feel of him close to you. you lean forward into his space, your body practically magnetized to his. his chest is warm under your palm, his body so solid, so real. your breath catches in your throat as you look at him.

“i’ve wanted this… you… for so long.” you whisper the words, and they hang in the air as you look at him.

A slight grin spreads across luigi’s face, his gaze softening as he leans in closer.

"should've told me," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "i've been wanting you too. been thinking about it every single day."

"show me," you breathe, barely audible.

that's all it takes. luigi closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his soft curls, your body pressing against his.

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more - passionate, desperate, filled with months of pent-up longing.

Luigi's hands roam your body. he breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck as he gently pushes you back onto the bed. you gasp as he finds a sensitive spot, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"god, you're so cute," he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "i've wanted to do this for so long."

you pull him back up for another searing kiss, reveling in the weight of his body on top of yours. your hands slip under his shirt, exploring the taut muscles of his back. luigi groans into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

“fuck, we could’ve been doing this all summer.” he says, breaking the kiss.

you can't help but smile against his lips at that thought. "well," you whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, "we'll just have to make up for lost time."

he chuckles softly as he captures your lips once more. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. you gasp at the contact, feeling him pressing against you.

"this okay?" he murmurs, his lips trailing along your jawline.

"more than okay," you breathe , arching into his touch. "please, luigi. i need you."

he doesn't need to be told twice. with deft fingers, he begins unbuttoning your shirt, his lips following the path of newly exposed skin. you shiver under his ministrations, your own hands fumbling with the hem of his, lifting it and running your hands across his body, feeling his abs and the broad expanse of his chest.

“like what you see?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” you say, giggling.

you can't stop the quiet moan that escapes your lips as his bare skin presses against yours. he kisses you again, his hands making quick work of your jeans. your hands slide down his chest, pausing briefly at the waistband of his shorts, before slipping them down and taking his thick cock in your hand. he groans as you stroke him, his hips rocking into your hand.

"you're driving me fuckin’ crazy," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.

"that's the point," you reply, a breathless laugh escaping you.

“you’re so good at this,”

“just for you, lu” you say, chuckling softly

"you look so fuckin' beautiful right now" he says, his voice low and husky.

he helps you out of your pants, his hands tracing the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts. your body melts under his touch, heat pooling between your thighs. you've never wanted anyone more than this.

he presses his fingers into the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, spreading them apart as his lips move down to your collarbone.

your breath catches as his fingers tease the edge of your panties, slipping underneath and brushing against your clit. he chuckles against your skin as he feels how wet you are.

"mmm, someone's eager," he says, his voice laced with amusement.

you bite back a whimper as he rubs slow circles against your clit his other hand cups your breast, his thumb teasing the peak of your nipple. you arch into his touch, desperate for more.

“looks like you’re just as worked up as i am,” you reply, grinning.

“you’re so tight around my fingers,” he says softly

"luigi, please," you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders. "i need you."

"patience, sweetheart." he says, moving down your body and placing his face between your thighs.

you can't help but groan in anticipation. he's so close, his breath hot against your skin. you can't wait any longer. you wrap your legs around his head, pulling him closer.

he doesn't hesitate. his tongue traces the length of your slit, circling your clit before plunging into you. you gasp as he licks and sucks at you, pleasure washing over your body. you writhe under his touch, his fingers moving just right as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"how's that feel?" he asks, pulling away slightly to look up at you.

"so fuckin' good," you groan, your fingers threading through his hair. "don't stop."

he continues, his tongue moving faster and harder, bringing you closer and closer to release. your thighs clench around his head, your hands grasping at his shoulders as the pressure builds. you can't hold on any longer. you come undone, your body shuddering with pleasure.

he holds you close, murmuring praise and reassurance as you come down from your high.

"you did so good for me," he says, kissing his way back up your body.

you lean in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. you reach for his cock again, stroking him slowly. he groans into your mouth, his hips rocking against your hand.

"fuck, sweetheart," he mutters, his hands gripping your waist.

"let me return the favor," you whisper, rolling him onto his back.

you run your hands along his bare thighs before taking him in your mouth, licking and sucking his length. he groans, his hands fisting in the sheets. you can't get enough of him, his taste, the way he feels against your tongue. you want to give him everything he's given you, bring him the same pleasure he's brought you.

"pretty girl," he murmurs, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust.

you continue working his length, taking him deeper, until he hits the back of your throat. he moans, his hands moving to your hair.

"jesus, you're amazing," he groans, his hips bucking slightly. "just like that."

you move faster, feeling his control start to slip. his grip tightens on your hair, his hips thrusting harder. you can tell he's close, and you double down, working him with your mouth and hand until he's shuddering, spilling into your mouth.

you swallow, looking up at him through your lashes. he's panting, his eyes dark as he gazes down at you.

"y'know how many times i've thought about you goin' down on me like that?” he asks, breathlessly chuckling.

you smile, licking your lips. "as many times as i've thought about it, probably."

he pulls you back up to his mouth, kissing you deeply. you lose yourself in the feeling of his lips, his tongue, the way his hands roam your body. he rolls you over, his weight pressing you into the mattress. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

his cock hardens against you, pressing against your inner thigh. you gasp, breaking the kiss

"you have no idea how much i've fuckin' wanted this" you say softly.

he kisses down your neck, his lips trailing across your collarbone. his hand slides between your legs, his fingers brushing against your dripping entrance.

“oh, i think i’ve got a pretty good idea,” he teases, his eyes fixed on the mess you’re making on his fingers.

"you’re so wet for me," he whispers, pushing a finger into you.

"i've been thinking about this since the moment i met you," you moan, arching against him.

"tell me how much you've wanted me," he says, adding another finger.

"so much, luigi," you gasp, his fingers moving faster.

"you've got me now." he says, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit.

the pleasure builds quickly, the sensation of his fingers inside you coupled with the friction of his thumb is enough to send you over the edge. you finish with a soft moan, your body trembling as he works you through it.

he's relentless, his fingers continuing their ministrations even as you come down from your orgasm. he presses his lips to yours, his tongue parting your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

"i wanna feel you," you moan, desperate for more.

"tell me how bad."

"bad," you pant, gripping his arm.

"hm? how bad, sweetheart?" he teases, a grin spreading across his face.

"so fucking bad," you groan, feeling him push into you.

he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. you cry out, the feeling almost too much to bear. he starts to move, slowly at first, then faster, his hips snapping against yours. you match his pace, your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you hard.

"that's it, baby, just like that," he groans, his hands gripping your hips.

your thighs shake as he pounds into you, pleasure building with every thrust. you cling to him, your fingers tangling in his curls, holding him close. he buries his face in your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

“you’re being so rough,” you whine.

“i know, sweetheart, i know” he coos

“you fuckin’ wanted this though, you gotta take it,” he says, smiling against your skin

“it’s too much,” you gasp.

“i’m trying my best to be gentle, baby,” he says, chuckling softly.

his pace is relentless as his hips slam against yours, your grip on his shoulders driving him insane as he fucks deep into you.

“i can’t take it, lu” you cry.

“you asked for this. shut the fuck up and take it,” he grunts. clearly he’s abandoned any intentions of being gentle with you.

"you're so fuckin’ tight around me, sweetheart" he whispers softly, grabbing your hand to hold it, interlocking his fingers with yours.

"you feel even better than i'd imagined" he says, his voice rough and low. you moan in response, unable to form words as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

"that's it," he groans, his hips bucking into yours. "cum for me."

you don't last long after that. you cry out, the sound muffled by his shoulder as you shudder, your orgasm hitting hard and fast. luigi's not far behind, his thrusts becoming erratic before he collapses on top of you.

he presses his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

you smile, tracing patterns on his back as he catches his breath. he looks down at you, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"was that worth the wait?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

you laugh, leaning up for a kiss.

"we've still got all night, sweetheart," he murmurs, kissing you deeply.

#luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione fanfic #real person fiction #free luigi

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simmerandwrite · 2 months ago

Text

grapefruit sidecar (part 1)

part of the Sink Into Me universe

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader x mob! Bucky Barnes

Summary: It was just an innocent question. You definitely didn't have any ulterior motives: “Have you ever had a threesome?” But when Steve admits something from his past with Bucky, you can't help but wonder...

Part 1: The Club | Part 2: The Penthouse

Warnings: 18+!!! established relationship (Steve x reader), MFM threesome shenanigans

Notes: here we gooooo! I don't think you *need* to read Sink Into Me to enjoy this two part series, but hey - feel free to read it! enjoy! and yes in my mind these two fuck like owen gray and small hands what who said that

“Have you ever had a threesome?”

The question came from your lips so casually, so innocently that Steve wasn’t sure he had heard you correctly. He stilled his pen and lifted his eyes to you, curled up in the corner of the couch in his office.

You were typing away on your phone, nursing the tail end of a hangover. Steve had insisted he could take you home to have a nap following the late brunch you shared together, but you insisted you wanted to just orbit near him for the rest of the day.

He couldn’t say no to that. But he also couldn’t keep putting off some paperwork, so armed with an oversized iced tea for hydration, you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he worked. And now he knew exactly why you had encouraged him to get a nice throw blanket to keep at the office too.

Steve cleared his throat, finally drawing your eyes to his. You gave him a cheeky smile.

“And where is that question coming from?”

“Uhm,” you started slowly, sitting up a bit straighter as you put your phone down. “A weird turn of topics in the group chat with the girls.”

Something about your smile made Steve think that wasn’t the whole truth.

He laughed. Okay, he’d play along. “And is my response going to be the next topic in the group chat with the girls?”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t do that. Just because Maria loves updating us on her sex life constantly, doesn’t mean I contribute the same way. Scouts honour.”

Steve pushed back on his chair and stood, removing his glasses as he walked over to join you.

“Weird place for pillow talk,” he said, planting himself beside you on the couch. You were quick to adjust and cozy up at his side. “But yes, I’ve had a threesome. More than one.”

“Oooh. With who?”

One of his eyebrows shot up, scanning your curious wide eyes. “Sweetheart.”

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just wondering how threesomes even happen. I’ve never had one, thought about it I guess but like.. who executes the idea? Do you talk about it beforehand or does it just happen? Who makes sure it’s fair?”

Steve let out a hard laugh. “When I’m involved, everyone has always had a good time. It’s been fair.”

“Okay but with who?”

He hesitated.

“Come onnnnn. Who was it? When was it? Wait. Have you had more than one? Was it with someone I know? You know I don’t care about your history with Sharon. She probably has some attractive girlfriends.”

Steve blew out a breath. What did he have to lose here? You and him were both typically very secure in your relationship, but he still didn’t want to unintentionally hurt any feelings.

“Okay. If you really want to know.” He shook his head, somehow confused he was even talking to you about this. “I’ve had a few. Haven’t happened in a while, usually there are just certain circumstances where… It happened organically. With a repeat participant.”

You nodded, eager. “Whoooo?”

“Usually it was me, and that repeat participant, and a nice girl we found at the club.”

“Steve.” You groaned out his name. “Just tell me. Who is she?”

Steve’s lips grew into a small smirk as he gave you a sideways glance. “Not a she.”

You gasped, sitting up on your knees at his side. “What? Who? Oh my god, I shouldn’t have just assumed it was a woman.” You stopped your train of thought and narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Oh my god. Oh my god! Is it Bucky?”

Steve raised his eyebrows then gave you a slow nod.

“Ahh!!” You tapped your hand on his shoulder, excited. “That makes so much sense. You two have such a close friendship and honestly, that’s..” You let out a long breath, closing your eyes for a second. “That’s really hot. You and Bucky. Damn.”

Steve shifted slightly in his position, raising an eyebrow and watching as you grew excited beside him on the couch. “Sorry? That’s really what?”

“Steve.” You opened one eye and looked at him quickly. “You heard me. Listen, I’m not blind. Bucky is attractive. But don’t– I’m not, like, attracted to him. Okay, well, I am but not like that.”

“Like how then?” Steve couldn’t help but make you squirm about this whole topic now. It was something he hadn’t ever considered with you - sharing your intimacy with anyone else. Mostly because the idea of any other person on the planet even looking at you like that made him fire up with a possessive side he had a hard time hiding. But… Bucky wasn’t just anyone.

There was a certain thrill that Bucky and Steve used to share when they’d do this together. The experiences were never really planned but Steve knew if someone caught his eye that Bucky would be interested in just as much as he was, and they were both in the mood for a little extra fun, then it was only fair to throw it on the table. They had their own signal, even. A quick side hug with a keyword dropped into the conversation, followed by a confirmation double ear tug.

It had always been a sober choice, too.

“Stop,” you replied quietly, leaning into Steve’s shoulder again. “Forget I said anything.”

“I can forget it.. If that’s what you want.” He extended his hand to prop your chin up, encouraging you to look him in the eyes again. “But if it’s something you want to discuss further..”

You pulled back slightly. “What?” It looked like your mind was misfiring as you found your words. “But.. wouldn’t that be weird? Also.. wait. Are you – Hmm. It sounds fun but kind of scary and.. How do you even start and..” You paused and closed your eyes again. “Would Bucky even want to… with me..? Am I even his type?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve turned directly to you, grasping your hands in his. “You have no idea.”

—

Steve knew the right moment would present itself. Because the millisecond you had started the conversation with him about it, he had a feeling it would happen eventually. But, it was important that the timing was just right.

Mostly because he didn’t want you to worry or panic about it. In fact, in the few conversations you and Steve had shared about the entire threesome topic, he had made it abundantly clear that you would be in charge. That was usually the method Steve and Bucky followed anyway, depending on the third person sharing a bed with them.

Really though, after all of this chatter about the possibility, Steve could see your confidence and excitement growing. You had told Steve it was his responsibility to read your energy and Bucky’s to make sure everything felt right. And Steve had suggested maybe easing into the whole thing anyways. Maybe you didn’t go all the way right away.

But, the right moment had to arrive.

And on a very ordinary Saturday night at the club, things seemed to be aligning. First and foremost, Steve knew you were in a great mood. You had an extra day off, you’d recently finished a big project at work and Steve had even just surprised you with a shopping spree. He knew how rarely you spent money on yourself, especially for new pieces of clothing. He had been especially generous when it came to a few pieces of lingerie.

One set specifically he knew you had on under that new dress. While the club wasn’t always your preferred location for a Saturday night, you had been the one to suggest it this time. You wanted to dance with your girls and who was Steve to hold you back?

As for Bucky, Steve knew his friend had recently gone on a few bumpy first dates. First dates that didn’t deliver because it was clear from Bucky’s on and off grumpy mood that he was pretty pent up. Steve knew it was still a shot in the dark if Bucky would want to participate, but maybe he’d want to let off some steam and have fun.

So, when it was early enough in the night that both you and Bucky hadn’t yet overindulged, Steve started to put a plan into action.

When you came back upstairs to his private area for a break from the dance floor, Steve handed you a glass of water.

“I’m cutting you off,” he whispered into your ear.

“I’ve only had one glass of –”

“Baby..” Steve pressed a kiss against your neck. “Just trust me. You go back down and dance while I chat with Bucky.”

You let out a small gasp, reaching out to grab the lapel of Steve’s suit. “Wait. Really? Are we–”

Steve cut you off with a kiss, then motioned towards the dancefloor. You gave him a coy smile over your shoulder as you hurried down to find Wanda and Maria again.

With a deep breath, Steve ran a hand through his hair then headed towards the bar. Bucky had his back against the counter, sipping a rocks glass as he surveyed the space. Steve stopped at Bucky’s side, giving him a small nudge on the arm.

“What are you drinkin’?” Steve prompted, matching Bucky’s pose.

Bucky furrowed his brow, turning to look at Steve. “Whiskey.”

“Wanna switch it up?” Steve asked slowly, turning his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Maybe we split a grapefruit sidecar?”

Bucky nearly choked as he turned to face Steve directly. “What? Rogers, I’m not going to .. If you are planning to fuck this up with your girl over some other broad.. I’m going to fuckin’ kick your ass and–”

Steve brought his hands up to stop Bucky from doing exactly that. “Jesus, Buck. Don’t think so fucking little of me, punk.” Steve rolled his neck then leaned in closer. “This invite is coming from me and my girl.”

Bucky’s eyes blew open, mouth slightly agape as he looked at Steve. “Are you serious?”

Steve grinned, raising his eyebrows up for a brief moment. “You need a second to mull it over?”

Bucky blinked, clearly letting his mind catch up. He quickly discarded his glass on the bar and raised his hand to tug on his earlobe. “Stevie, you know I’d never admit to having impure thoughts about your girl but..”

Steve laughed then grasped Bucky’s shoulder. “My office. 20 minutes.”

–

Steve came and found you on the dancefloor not long after he had pitched that tonight would be the night. And holy shit, you couldn’t believe it. You were buzzing with more than just excitement - there was a flutter of nerves and impossibilities flashing through your mind too.

Even though Steve had quite thoroughly told you how much fun you’d all have, how Bucky would enjoy himself just as much as you would, if not more. Despite those reassurances, you wouldn’t believe it could even happen until, well, it happened.

Now, as you were heading to Steve’s office - there seemed to be some sort of electricity in the air.

God, you looked hot tonight. That was helping a lot. Out of all the clothes Steve had dropped down cash for, the dress you were wearing had been one of your favourites. It hugged the curves of your body in the most perfect way, with a generous view of your chest and a short hemline that left little to the imagination. You had felt effortlessly sexy in it, especially with the lacy garments underneath threatening to peak out at the top.

Steve’s office was empty when you both arrived, the walls dulling the bass from trickling in from the club. Steve left the big lights off, opting for just lamplight and ambiance from the illuminated Brooklyn skyline seeping in.

Before you could start nervously pacing, Steve pulled you into his arms. He was leaning against the edge of the desk and you stood between his legs.

“Hey, remember what I said before..” Steve started, slowly tracing his fingers up and down your arms as he kept eye contact with you. “If you change your mind, at any point.. You just say so. And then it’s over, no questions asked.”

You nodded. “I know. Thank you.” As much as you were trying to keep it together, you couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m excited. But I'm nervous, too. How does this start and–”

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. After a few seconds, there was a voice.

“It’s, uh, me. Bucky.”

Steve glanced down at you, giving you one last look waiting for your confirmation. You responded with a coy smile and a nod, shifting around to lean against Steve. He draped his arms around you and called out for Bucky to come in.

You had always been aware of how attractive Bucky was. You were a normal, warm blooded woman after all. But there was something even hotter about seeing him cross through the doorway, knowing full well what intentions you all shared. And the fact that Bucky looked nervous, like his confidence wasn’t guarding him as it usually did, made it all feel even better.

Fuck. These men and their suits, too. Bucky was wearing black on black on black and the way his metal arm glinted under the lamplight, you nearly choked.

Bucky shut the door behind him, glancing over his shoulder quickly to look back at Steve. You sensed Steve’s nod, because Bucky made sure to lock the door, too. Then after an awkward silence, Bucky took it upon himself to sit on the couch.

“So,” Steve started, all calm and casual as his fingertips skated against your exposed collarbone.

All you could do was stare straight ahead at Bucky, watching him watching you and Steve. Fuck, what happened now? How did you cross this line and–

You gasped as Steve’s lips found your neckline, weakening your knees as his tongue and lips explored your skin.

“Sweetheart,” Steve paused, moving one hand down your body and toying with the bottom of your dress. “How are you feeling?”

You whimpered, closing your eyes. “G-good. Yeah, so good.”

Steve grinned against your neck, pressing another kiss under your ear. “Buck?”

You looked back towards Bucky as he took a second to reply. He was already adjusting the top of his jeans, taking in slow breaths. “Yeah, so far so..” When he bit his lip, you nearly collapsed.

Steve lowered his voice, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Baby, what do you want? You wanna help Bucky feel even better?”

Holy fuck, you did. You really did. Jesus Christ almighty, the whole concept of Steve encouraging you to put your mouth on Bucky was electric.

“You already makin’ a mess of those nice panties, baby?” You nodded again, looking back up at Steve as he grabbed your neck. “You take care of Bucky then he’ll watch me take care of you. How’s that sound?”

Your reply was a jumbled up moan of positivity as Steve kissed you again, hard and wet before squeezing your hips and swatting your ass.

As you walked towards him, Bucky sat up just a bit straighter on the couch. He was still nervous but judging by how he was running his hands down his thighs, you only imagined how excited he was, too.

“Hi Bucky,” you said quietly as you very slowly got down on your knees. “Can I..” You dragged your tongue across your lips, then glanced down at his belt.

Bucky swallowed hard, sparing another glance towards Steve before looking back at you. He sucked in a breath then reached his hand out to steady your chin. “Only if you want to, doll.”

You couldn’t help but smile, genuinely. Despite being on your knees in front of him, you were grateful that Bucky was still confirming your own interest in this whole thing.

“Yes, please.” You nodded and placed your hands on his knees, slowing running them up his slacks until you met his belt buckle.

He was quick to assist you in your task, pulling at his belt and lifting his hips as you yanked on his pants and boxers. His cock was already hard and ready and you couldn’t even help yourself, immediately reaching for it.

“Fuck,” Bucky exhaled, hands clutching the couch as you ran your hands against it.

“Buck,” Steve called out from across the room. “Pillow.”

You looked up at Bucky, who was scrambling to reach out and grab a nearby throw pillow from the opposite side of the couch. Without a second thought, he lifted it to rest behind his head before Steve interrupted him.

“For her knees, you dumbass,” Steve laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, helping you position it under your knees.

You didn’t reply, but instead you gave Bucky a sweet smile then got to work. You swiped your tongue around the head of his cock, before trailing it down along the soft silk of his shaft. Then you took a deep breath and slowly opened your lips, sucking on the tip.

Bucky’s hands gripped the couch even tighter, barely resisting the urge to thrust his hips upwards. You appreciated his restraint, though you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Your name left his lips, like a curse word. “Doll..” You felt one of his hands against your jaw. “Look at me.” Your eyes darted up to his and he really cursed this time. “Fuck, oh fuck. Yes, look at you with my cock in your mouth. So fucking sexy.”

That set you off, attempting to take even more of his length into your mouth as you looked at him. Whatever you couldn’t fit, you stroked with one of your hands, fueled by the drool dripping past your lips.

You got into a groove, shifting through a pattern of swirling your tongue, sucking long and hard and adding in both fists stroking on and off too. Above you, Bucky seemed to be in a euphoric state. And he couldn’t stop praising you for it, either.

“Jesus Christ, doll. This fucking mouth. So pretty, so fucking pretty with a cock in it. You do this for Stevie too, don’t you? You’ve done it right here on this couch haven’t you?”

Something about the way Bucky talked about you and Steve really riled you up. You hollowed out your cheeks, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes as you waited for him. After a second you, pulled back and grinned.

“I let him fuck my face right here, Bucky. Do you wanna do that too?”

Bucky licked his lips and grinned right back, grabbing the side of your head ever so gently and guiding you right back down onto his cock. Then, he did exactly what he wanted. His hips thrusted up quickly, moving in and out of your mouth in record time. You gagged against him as he held you there briefly, then slowed down.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ come, doll,” he fell back against the couch as you took over once more, both hands alternating between massaging his balls and stroking up. You took him back into your mouth, sucking harder as Bucky’s moans grew louder.

“So close, so fucking..” You pulled back and Bucky grabbed his cock with one hand, steadying your open mouth before him with the other. He growled as he came, hard. You stuck your tongue out, smiling wide as his climax washed over him, unloading onto your tongue and lips. You let it sit there in your mouth for a few extra seconds, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you swallowed it down.

He collapsed against the couch, eyes blown open wide. “Holy fucking shit. Stevie, the mouth on your girl..”

“You can address your compliments to her directly, Buck,” Steve laughed, standing from where he had been sitting in his chair and coming over to help you up. “You might have made his brain malfunction, sweetheart.”

You smiled proudly, meeting Steve’s lips for a kiss. You leaned against him again, tilting your head up to him. “Need you inside me, please?”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. His hand rested against the base of your neck, holding you flush against his chest. “And can Bucky watch?”

You couldn’t help but giggle and nod.

Bucky’s eyes opened slowly, as a smirk grew on his face too. He didn’t even bother cleaning himself up or pulling his pants into place again, simply leaning back and watching carefully as Steve led you over towards his desk.

Steve took his time, kissing you quite generously as he peeled your dress up towards your waist. You felt him smile against your lips as his hands tugged on your underwear, sliding his fingers towards your center. Just as he had predicted, you had clearly really enjoyed yourself, as your soaked panties indicated.

“I’m gonna slide right in, baby,” he breathed against your neck, swirling his fingers around your clit. “Maybe next time, we do this at the same time. Do you want to try that? Bucky in your mouth while you’re full of me?”

You groaned, twitching as Steve’s fingers sped up. It wasn’t long until your orgasm approached and soon enough you were quivering in Steve’s arms, ricocheting your way up and down the rollercoaster of senses as Steve turned and pressed you against his desk.

You laid down across it, on your stomach with your ass up in the air. You could feel Steve behind you, shoving your underwear to the side as he freed himself from his own pants. You gripped the edge of the desk as he entered you, slowly at first to make sure you were comfortable and ready.

Across the room, you watched as Bucky was gripping his own cock, somehow hard again. Steve held onto your hips and thrusted steady, letting out his own series of grunts and moans as he fucked you.

Between your own moaning and Steve’s, you could barely hear Bucky across the room but he said your name out loud. You met his eyes as he was rubbing his shaft.

“You’re incredible, doll. Absolutely fucking incredible. And look at you, taking Steve so well. You like that, huh? Being so fucking full of him?”

With your own orgasm approaching, all you could do was cry out in agreement. Steve growled behind you, speeding up as he gripped your hips even tighter.

“Look what you did to Bucky, baby,” Steve smacked his hand against your ass, holding you tight against him. “With just your mouth..”

Bucky smirked, biting his lip as he watched you bounce against the desk. “Gonna let me feel that pussy next time?”

Your climax felt volcanic - a flurry of neurons firing off in your brain as you quivered, safely pressed against the desk as the weight of Steve covered you like a warm blanket. He came right after, growling in your ear as he spilled into you. Steve stayed in place after, as if unable to let go as he caught his breath.

As you came back down to earth, Steve eventually stood, taking a moment to clean you up before coaxing you back into his desk chair. Yeah, you definitely needed a few more minutes. If you stood, you might fall down like a baby deer.

You leaned back into the soft leather chair, eyes closed as you grinned.

Steve kneeled before you, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee as he fixed your skirt.

“Baby, you okay?”

You opened your eyes and looked down. He was flush and seemed awfully content. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him smile like that before.

You bit your lip, resisting your urge to scream with joy. You glanced from Steve over to Bucky. He was still sitting on the couch, though his pants were done up and buckled again.

“I’m really good. Like, wow. Great. Amazing.”

Bucky laughed from his spot. “Doll, you’re amazing. I..” He sat up a bit straighter. “Best sidecar I’ve ever had.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking back to Steve again. They were wearing matching grins. You didn’t want to ask.

“I have worked up an appetite though..” You moved to stand. Steve got to his feet and offered his hand. “How do we feel about milkshakes?”

You collected yourself as Steve and Bucky strategized the best way to sneak out of the club and find a table at your favourite diner.

There was a shift, though. When Bucky opened the car door for you, exchanging another smirk with Steve. Something in the air felt different.

Part 2 - The Penthouse

#story: grapefruit sidecar #story: sink into me #steve rogers x reader #mob boss steve rogers #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x you #mob boss steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #simmerandwrite

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corpsebasil · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepy -> pure Ethan fluff here

Ethan’s best friend likes him more than she’ll admit, and he has a habit of sleeping on her.

Tara caught you the first time it happened.

You were at Ethan and Chad’s dorm, studying for your Econ exam with Tara, when you’d found yourself curled up against Ethan, head in his lap, dozing away from boredom.

“Look how cute.” Tara whispered to Chad, pointing her pen at the two of you. Ethan’s head had fallen back to rest against the wall, his eyes closed as the two of you slept.

The next time was at the Halloween party. This time it was Ethan, exhausted from the alcohol and the noise, that had sat next to you on the couch beside Anika and Mindy. And when his head had moved to lay against your shoulder, his breaths slowing as he found comfort in your presence, you’d had to shush Mindy so she wouldn’t wake him up with her loud gossiping.

Most recently, you’d been found by Chad, curled up together under the covers in Ethan’s bed, his arm slung over your waist as your head burrowed in the space between his neck and shoulder.

No one in your friend group understood why the two of you weren’t together. It made no sense—you were always attached at the hip and, whenever you hung out, you always inevitably seemed to be napping with one another. For Ethan, it was because he was constantly stressed, and with you he could relax, breathing in the scent of your perfume and running tentative hands over your soft skin. For you, it was…

Well, you weren’t entirely sure.

So when you began receiving messages from your friend’s shared group-chat you gave a wary glance to Ethan where he laid curled up in a ball beside you, his head in your lap.

Core Four

Chad: Alright Y/N, spill the tea. What’s going on w you and E?

Chad: That rhymed

Chad: lol

Y/N: nothings going on why?

Tara: surrrre

Tara: *image*

Tara: looks like a whole lot of ‘nothing’

Y/N: stopppp when did you take that??

Chad: what the HELLL 🔥🔥🔥

Y/N: Tara delete that pls

Tara: no I’m making it my lock screen 😏

Chad: I thought I was your lock screen

Mindy: As long as his Ghostface ass stays away from me I don’t care who he naps with. Next subject.

Chad: don’t be boring

Y/N: *left groupchat*

Tara: noooo

You sighed, turning off your phone and chucking it to the end of the bed before running your nails absentmindedly through Ethan’s curls. Truth was, you did like your friend. You just didn’t know how to tell him.

“Y/N.” Ethan grumbled, lifting his head a fraction as he blinked sleepily. “What’s going…on?”

“Hey, Sleepy.” You smiled down at him, then squeaked when he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you under the covers next to him, his head moving to rest on your stomach. “E, what the—”

“Just go to sleep, please.” He grumbled, voice drowsy. “Need your…” he trailed off and your face flushed, but you made yourself comfortable, resting a hand against his head as you relaxed, your eyes slowly closing.

“Come on.” Tara was urging, watching as you did your makeup and ignored her. “Just get together all ready I’m sick of this.”

“He’s my friend, Tare.” You argued, raising a brow at her in the vanity mirror. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” She asked, flouncing over. “Because I heard that Chad says he likes you.”

“Chad likes me?” You asked, confused, and Tara rolled her eyes.

“No dumbass. Ethan likes you.”

You blinked at her for a moment before shaking your head.

“I call bullshit.”

“What kind of friends nap together all the time?” She pushed, approaching to crouch on the floor beside you, crossing her arms and resting them on your legs. “I mean—come on. Come on. The boy can’t keep his hands off you.”

“That’s bull—” your phone rang and you both jumped. You reached out but Tara grabbed it first and you yelped, diving for the brunette as she giggled and ran, answering the call.

“Hey Sleepy.” She cooed, reading off Ethan’s contact name. She shot you a wink as your face burned. “What’s—” she paused. Then she looked at you, a curious expression on her face. “Yeah, yeah. She’s here, hold on.” Tara passed you the phone and you snatched it away, heartbeat quickening as you answered.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” Ethan’s voice met your ear and you tensed. He sounded…sad? Distressed? “Can you come over? Please?”

“Why what happened?” You asked, already standing up. Screw it, you’d take your makeup wipes with you and remove your half-finished look. Tara was watching you, looking a bit worried, as she handed you your purse.

“I don’t know I just…can you just come?”

“Yeah. Yeah, E.” You said, listening to the phone click as you looked to Tara. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing he—he kind of sounded like…like he was crying or something. All he said was ‘Tara, give me Y/N please.’” She paused. “Is he okay, or—?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry for leaving. Dunkin in the morning?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

So you left, going to Ethan’s dorm as fast as you could. You knew Chad was out with Mindy and Anika, and assumed that that’s why Ethan had called. But why did he sound so…upset?

You used your spare key that Ethan had made you to enter, knocking first, then pushed inside. When you got to Ethan’s room you saw him sitting with his head in his hands, but he soon looked up at you. His expression was pained and you felt a stab of anxiety run through you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, setting your stuff down as you moved to him, sitting down beside your friend.

“I um..” he trailed off, looking at you then away. “this is embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” You said, reaching out to rub his back. “Tell me what happened.” Baby. You’d almost called him baby at the end of that sentence. You were insanely glad that you hadn’t.

“I have night terrors.” He said after a weighted pause, his eyes shifting to yours. “I cant sleep sometimes. When I’m alone I—I just…I just toss and turn. Everything freaks me out I don’t like to be alone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him.

“Night terrors? About what?”

“Well,” his face turned a shade of pink and he looked away. “well I was trying to go to bed and then I saw you and—” he paused, breath hitching, and you felt your chest tighten. “It’s fine. You’re here now, right? You’re fine.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself, his eyes darting across your face like he wasn’t sure this was real, and something in you cracked.

“Is that why you’re always so tired with me?” You asked, frowning. “Because you cant sleep alone?”

“No.” He said, and you stared at him in confusion, but he cut you off before you could speak. “I sleep with you because I feel…safe with you.” He seemed embarrassed again and glanced down at his hands. “I don’t feel comfortable with anyone else. Not like—not like you..” he sighed and blinked up at the ceiling, seeming to fight back a wince. “Im totally weirding you out right now, aren’t I.”

You watched him for a moment, contemplative, before you kicked off your shoes. He could only stare as you moved to the opposite side of his bed and shoved your shorts off, left in a huge t-shirt curtesy of Ethan himself.

“It’s not weird.” You said, slipping under the covers, and smacked the mattress next to you. He still stared, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, E. Get in the bed.”

A hesitant laugh left him as he did so, climbing in beside you. It was muscle memory, at this point: your head on his chest, his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. You felt his soft breaths on your hair as you settled, adjusting into the familiarity of his body as you rested.

“You know I care about you, right?” Ethan asked into the darkness, his thumb brushing soft strokes against your waist. “Like..more than anyone.”

You smiled against him.

“Are you saying you have a crush on me, Sleepy?” You teased, and he startled you by instantly saying, “Yeah”.

You sat up a bit, looking at him, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks had gone red. You brushed his hair away from his forehead and ran your fingers across his cheek, your head tilting.

“Then do something about it.” You whispered, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, before he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to yours.

Core Four

Chad: Y/N?

Chad: Y/N I know you’re getting these messages. I added you back to the groupchat a week ago.

Y/N: what do you want

Chad: my BOY over here says he’s going to his GIRLFRIENDS HOUSE TO WATCH A MOVIE

Chad: WHICH?? GIRLFRIEND???

Tara: WHAT

Mindy: Ew.

Y/N: he has a girlfriend?

Chad: …

Chad: it’s not you??? he just left the house like an hour ago

Y/N: why would you think it’s me??

Chad: BECAUSE

Tara: nooo my fave ship

Mindy: Thank God.

Y/N: *image*

Y/N: idk what movie he was planning on watching because this man is out like a fuckin light

Tara: AHHHHHHHHHHHJOANASKNKSN

Chad: WHAT THE HEEEEEELLLLLL🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

Mindy: I hate you all.

#ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #scream six #tara carpenter #Chad meeks Martin #mindy meeks martin #scream 6

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inloveinsickness · 10 months ago

Text

❝ DISTANT DESIRES ❞ — miya atsumu (18+)

cw. MDNI, f!reader, timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, pet names (baby, princess, darling), fluff to smut, sexting, sending risqué photos, teasing, phone sex, masturbation, language, dirty talk, not beta read word count. ~ 2.3k synopsis. atsumu’s away and misses the way you feel against his skin before a big game.

shutting down and closing your laptop, you push yourself up from the uncomfortable desk chair, groaning as you twist and turn, popping your neck and back as you stretch the tense muscles. another day at the office, done and dusted.

you switch out your fluffy fox office slippers for the black slingbacks you came in, walking towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the scene before you. the sun has set, the moon slowly coming out to play — it’s a friday night, groups of friends and couples alike take the streets to celebrate the end of a busy work week. city lights shine over the crowded roads, hustle and bustle illuminated by the vibrant colours of osaka’s nightlife.

you’d be one with the crowd below if not for the fatigue of crunch time seeping deep into your bones, it’s been one hell of a day, a week even, you’ve lost all concept of time, feeling a little more drained than usual without your love here.

the msby black jackals have a series of away games in tokyo, so naturally, atsumu’s been away for the past couple of days, and you miss him dearly. you understood why he had to go, it just didn’t make sense for him to make the commute everyday and waste precious time that could be spent resting, even if it meant still being by your side. it doesn’t make you miss him any less though, you’ve never been apart from him for more than a day since he asked you to move in with him two summers ago, and you feel it even more so now that he’s put on a ring on your finger.

casting one last look at the files and mountains of paperwork, you sigh, packing up your things and swinging your tote over your shoulder, preparing to finally leave the office. the rest of the floor is empty and the lights are dimmed, pretty much everyone in the building has already left for the night. honestly you were too busy to even notice, feeling stressed is an understatement with multiple deadlines looming.

bzzt. bzzt. your phone buzzes as you’re exiting the main elevator and walking to your parked car— 2 new messages from tsumu ♡

tsumu ♡ : hi princess tsumu ♡ : i miss you

just his name alone is enough to perk you up and put a smile on your weary face, spreading a warmth in your soul, like a fireplace crackling to life in a chilly cabin up in the northern mountains in the dead of winter.

me : hi baby me : i miss you too :(

climbing into the driver's seat, you allow yourself to sink into the leather seats, quickly shooting him a message that you'll be driving in case you take a while to respond and that you'll text him when you get home, getting the car started and heading home.

in the meantime, atsumu's sprawled out on his back over the plush ivory sheets on his queen bed, fresh out of the shower after practice and dinner with the boys, lazily toying with his phone while staring at the ceiling. he thinks the bed's much too large for just him alone, still defaulting to laying on his side of the bed — it's a force of habit that comes with living together, missing the warmth of your embrace and the scent of your strawberry vanilla shampoo lingering on what would've been your pillow.

he knows you’ve been slaving away at work while he was gone, you’re usually home by now but if you’re only just leaving the office at this hour, you’re probably clocking voluntary overtime just to clear as much off your plate as possible. you never liked bringing work home anyway.

he hopes you’ve been taking care of yourself, not that you don’t normally, but you tend to get stuck in your head sometimes when you’re busy and pushed to the limits. regardless, he always worries, despite you telling him that you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself, that he shouldn’t worry his pretty lil head about you.

atsumu thinks he has a growing distaste for away games. they usually mean that he has to be away from you, meaning he’s a tad bit more grouchy than usual, a bit more snappy, much to the team’s chagrin. there’s no point searching the stands for you when you won’t be there, no you to kiss him good luck before lining up, no you to dick down the night before for some fun, overnight loving and a good night’s sleep.

well, lady luck seems to be on his side because little did he know, you’d be coming home to find a very exciting parcel sitting at your doorstep.

you on the other hand, are slightly puzzled. strange, you didn’t receive any delivery notifications, but you won’t say no to a haul. who knows, it might just be what you need at the end of a shitty day, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt nobody.

stepping out of your shoes and leaving your coat hung by the door, you bring the cardboard box up on your kitchen counter, carefully slicing it open with the first knife you could find. with a gasp, you lift up the contents of the box to find a very lovely set of lace lingerie. i forgot i ordered this.

in a burst of excitement, you immediately bring the dainty piece of fabric to the bedroom, peeling off your black pencil skirt and white button up. putting it on, you stand in front of floor length mirror, hands lightly tracing over the fine details of patterned lace in admiration. it’s beautiful, hugging your figure in all the right places, and you happen to know someone who would love it even more.

flicking on the light switch of your shared walk-in closet, your eyes zero-in on a green shoe box sitting in the corner of the room. it’s tucked away, no one’s ever really needed it, the contents being kept more so for nostalgic purposes, but you’re really hoping what you’re looking for is still in there.

kneeling down to open it up, you come face to face with atsumu’s high school jersey. inarizaki’s #7. perfect, just what you were looking for.

with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you put the jersey on. atsumu’s definitely grown larger and more buff in the several years since high school, but he wasn’t by any means small to begin with, the dri-fit material hanging loose on your frame and ending right by your upper thighs.

it unfortunately no longer smells like him, having been kept away for that long, but just a little spritz of his perfume should do the trick. it’s a far cry from having him here with you but it’ll do for now.

crawling into bed and getting tangled in the soft sheets, you raise the hem of the jersey just to tastefully expose your skimpily clad lower half, arching your back just a little and angling your phone to snap a photo. you’ve definitely taken more risqué photos in the past, for sure, but given you were both apart, much farther than just a short drive, you know this will be enough to set him off, leaving just enough room for imagination.

less than a minute after you hit send, your phone rings with an incoming call and checking the caller ID, sure enough, it’s atsumu.

biting back a smile, you feign innocence, propping your phone up between your ear and shoulder, picking at your manicured nails as you lean back against the soft pillows, “hi tsumu, everything okay?”

“come on, don’t play coy with me now baby, with my jersey too? you know exactly what you’re doin’.”

he is, as always, so so easy to rile up.

with a giggle, you egg him on, “i just wanted to show you what came in the mail today, isn’t it pretty?”

“it is, looks ravishing on you darling. you know exactly what i like don’t you? it’s in my favourite colour too.”

atsumu hums in delight, bringing the phone closer to his mouth and voice dropping barely above a whisper and muttering out the next few words, “though i must say, i think it looks better on the floor.”

you can’t help but bring your bottom lip between your teeth, sinful thoughts begin to run through your mind about what the night entails if this carries on. making sure he can hear your pouting through the phone, “mhmm but you’re not here to undress me, strip me of my clothes one article at a time.”

atsumu pictures you in your shared bed, mind conjuring images of you slowly peeling off your clothes, nipples perked as the cool night air hits your skin, peeking through the sheer lace fabric. he was already sporting a semi hard on, the beginning of an erection provoked by the delicious photo you sent earlier.

he can’t help but reach a hand down to touch himself over his boxers, letting out a desperate and breathy whine that you recognise all too well, “s-shit— baby, please, just help me out here.”

your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat at the realisation, a wave of pleasure going straight to your heat.

breathing out an okay, you wiggle into a more comfortable position, bringing the collar of his jersey up to your nose and taking a deep inhale of his fragrance, closing your eyes and letting his voice and your imagination do the work for you.

your hands trail down your sides, pulling the delicate panties aside and letting your fingers brush against your clit, folds already glistening with arousal from the mere thoughts of atsumu laying in his bed, naked skin glazed with a sheen of sweat and pleasuring himself to pictures of you.

"talk to me, baby. can you describe to me what you’re doing?”

“touching myself, rubbing my clit.” you gasp, “feels good.”

“yeah? good girl, apply a little more pressure and when you’re ready, put a finger in for me?” he shakily breathes out, "i bet ya look real pretty right now."

you do as you’re told, clenching around your finger, his simple praise shooting straight to your core. oh how quickly the tables have turned, from taunting him to eagerly following his instructions without any second thoughts.

you can almost hear the wet sounds of his hand spreading the precum over his length and his strokes over his cock gradually increasing in speed, his voice breathless and broken,"that's it baby, slide another finger in?”

“that’s my good girl. imagine it's my thick fingers in your pussy right now." you moan at the delicious sensation, eyes squeezed shut as you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt. he hasn't been gone for long but you miss him so much, in more ways than one.

“i miss you so much, miss being inside you, your pretty face when you’re moaning my name, hmm?”

reaching up and rolling your nipples through the thin lace, you moan, “i do, i m-hah, miss you too tsumu!”

at this point, days worth of stress melts away as you chase your release, mind overwhelmed with pleasure as the saccharine voice of your lover leads you to an orgasm.

“i can’t wait to get back and fuck you for real, just doesn’t feel the same without you.” it’s almost like his phone is on his pillow right next to his face, sweet moans and groans tumbling out of atsumu’s mouth, straight into your ears, almost like he’s right here with you caged below him, breathing into your neck.

despite the distance, he feels so close, almost like he can touch you if he just reached forward, “keep going baby, don’t stop.”

your orgasm is building much faster than you initially anticipated, pleasure ripping through you as his wrecked voice and whimpering pushes you closer and closer to the edge as tears line your closed lids and threaten to spill over your cheeks.

“a-atsu!” you cry with urgency, grinding your sensitive bundle of nerves into the palm of your hand, barely holding on to the cusp of release. “atsu i’m gonna—“

“come on, let go f'me pretty.”

with a high-pitched cry, your body stiffens and the coil in your abdomen finally snaps, squeezing tight and releasing all over your fingers.

atsumu pictures it all too well, your muscles contracting under soft skin as you cum to his encouragement— that was the last push he needed and he’s letting out a string of expletives and sharp moans, sinking into the pale sheets as his release sputters over his stomach and lower abdomen.

the both of you lay in silence for a few moments, catching your breath as you come down from the high. you hear some movement through the phone, presumably atsumu cleaning up the mess he made on himself, before collapsing on the firm mattress again.

"man, i wish i could hold you and kiss you all over your pretty face." you can even hear the pout in his voice, heart clenching as you yearn to kiss it off his handsome face. all you can do at the moment is hum in response, wrapping your arms around a pillow and tucking your face into his jersey that you still had on, inhaling the scent of his perfume now mixed with your sweat, pretending that he’s here in bed with you.

regardless, you’re spent, the post-orgasm sleepiness paired with the long day you just had hitting you all at once and your eyes flutter shut, softly mumbling with a tired yet satisfied smile, “i love you, atsumu.”

“i love you too, princess.” atsumu sighs in quiet longing, “i’ll see you soon okay? be back before ya know it.”

bzzt. bzzt. just as he’s about to drift off into slumber, his phone buzzes with an unread message from kiyoomi in the adjoining suite next to his— 1 new message from omi-omi

omi-omi : next time you’re calling your fiancé and beating your meat, please keep it down

notes. @atsumou surprise >:) was listening to snooze - sza while adding the last touches reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#₊˚࿔*:·୧ : cid’s fantasies !#miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu smut #hq smut

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moonzzip · 3 months ago

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thinkin' bout you | kwon jiyong

a/n — so, this is a story I had an idea for out of the blue, I don't know if I'll post more, only time will tell, I enjoyed writing it and wanted a bit of jiyong's angst, now I'm sharing it, english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes

summary: you wanted to help jiyong, but it didn't go as planned.

pairing: jiyong x gn!reader

warnings: bigbang debuted recently in this story, little angst, happy ending, small appearance of taeyang and daesung, indirect mention of t.o.p

lowercase letters, word count: 1,1k

when you walk into the practice room, your eyes go straight to the floor, seeing jiyong crouched down with sweat dripping from his temples, slightly out of breath. you sigh, “jiyong, that’s enough, right? you’ve been here for hours. if you keep pushing yourself to the limit, you might get hurt.”

your gaze shifts to the corner of the room, where empty water bottles are scattered—evidence of the countless hours jiyong has spent perfecting his dance. walking over, you pick up an unopened one and twist the cap off, making your way toward the man on the floor. “here, you need to dri—”

a sharp slap sends the bottle flying to the ground, its contents spilling instantly. you don’t even have time to react before he snaps, “shut up. stop bothering me. i’m busy right now.”

he runs a hand through his damp hair, sighing in frustration. “you don’t even know what i’m going through. you don’t know how hard it is to keep doing this for hours. if you didn’t have what it takes to debut, then just leave others alone and stop being a nuisance.”

you stare at jiyong in shock, completely speechless. he had never acted like this before. you knew he was stressed, but you still worried about him. before you can even process it, he’s already walking away, slamming the door behind him and leaving you alone in the practice room.

you stand there, blinking, unable to believe the words that just came out of your (former?) best friend’s mouth. you had always been there for him. you spent so much time by his side, sacrificing your own things just to help him—whether it was with his idol career or anything else. you had been there from the very beginning, even before jiyong met the other members of the group he always talked about.

looking down at your feet, unsure of how to react, your eyes land on the fallen water bottle. without thinking, you walk toward the small supply closet in the practice room to grab something to clean up the mess. as you wipe the floor, you feel your legs weaken. you crouch down, biting your lips hard as your eyes well up with tears. clutching your hair in anguish, you let go of the mop and cover your eyes with one hand, drowning in your own misery.

you don’t know how long you stayed there—it couldn’t have been too long—but eventually, you stand up and walk out of the dimly lit practice room, the setting sun casting long shadows across the floor.

as you descend the stairs to the company’s lobby, you pass by taeyang and daesung, who greet you cheerfully. “hey, ___! have you seen jiyong around?” taeyang asks, while daesung waves at you with a smile.

you glance at them, then simply shake your head with a neutral expression before continuing toward the exit. the two watch you walk away in silence.

“what do you think happened?” daesung wonders out loud, not really expecting an answer.

you walk aimlessly for about ten minutes, staring up at the starry sky. turning your head to the side, you see the vast han river, its waters reflecting the scattered stars above. approaching a nearby bench, you sit down, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. leaning your head back against the bench, you exhale a shaky sigh, then lift your arm to cover your eyes, breathing heavily, lips trembling.

the sound of the wind fills your ears, drowning out everything else.

your arm slowly falls to your side, away from your face. your eyes remain closed.

“…aren’t you cold?”

your eyes snap open in an instant, locking onto the ones you sometimes admired in secret. the two of you stare at each other in silence. jiyong’s gaze lingers, waiting for your answer, while yours are wide with surprise. you blink, his breath faintly hitting your forehead due to how close he is when speaking.

for a small, minuscule, almost imperceptible moment, your eyes flicker to his lips—but you quickly look away.

you stand up from the bench, tilting your head just slightly to avoid bumping into his.

“…jiyong?” you whisper, noticing the cold air leaving your lips. how long had you been walking? you don’t know.

your eyes shift to the man in front of you, only a short distance separating you both, with the bench still between you.

silence.

but soon, you’re the one who looks away first, turning your gaze toward the river, where the moon’s reflection shimmers on the surface. even when you hear footsteps, you don’t look. jiyong stops beside you, but neither of you speaks—until he finally does.

“here.”

you turn your head, only to find something practically shoved into your face, blocking your view of him. your hands instinctively reach out, taking the small bag. you glance down at it, then realize what it is. your breath hitches, and your eyes glimmer slightly as a small smile tugs at your lips.

“ohhh~ kwon jiyong is giving me chocolates? that means you’re confessing your love for me, right?” you tease, grinning mischievously as you nudge him with your elbow.

before you can say anything else—

“…yes.”

your world stops.

everything freezes.

your eyes widen in shock. you’re completely paralyzed. and apparently, so is jiyong. the two of you stand there, speechless. your mouth hangs open. his does too—but he quickly covers it with his hand, as if unable to believe what he just said.

silence again.

you gently take his hand in yours, pulling it away from his lips.

“it’s okay, ji. i like you too.”

delicately, you hold his hand.

“i’m sorry, ___.”

you lift your eyes to his, but before you can say anything, he continues,

“i said things i shouldn’t have, and i hurt you. that’s the last thing i ever wanted to do. i was just stressed and couldn’t express myself the right way. i was frustrated—still am, actually—but now it’s because i said things that hurt you. i never meant them. i’ve never been good at expressing my feelings. and the way you take such good care of me… it made me confused. embarrassed. happy. warm.

i tried to distract myself by dancing—not just to improve, but to stop thinking about you, and i—”

his words are cut off by the soft touch of your lips against his.

gentle. warm. comforting.

but just as quickly as they came, they are gone.

jiyong stares at you in shock, his cheeks heating up as he processes what just happened.

you smile. “your speech was getting too long. i forgive you, you idiot.”

taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it lightly. “we should go get some ramen, just the two of us. the other three eat way too much—unless they’re paying this time.”

you start walking, pulling jiyong along with you.

he stares at your back, at your hand holding his, and he smiles—his heart warm, the cold from before completely forgotten.

a/n — I wrote this while listening to 'this love' by gd, I saw the m/v recently and I thought it was so... I don't know, a really good vibe to write, I hope you liked it! I have some difficulties with english so I used a translator to help me write it, but I hope it's not bad, thanks for reading!

#gdragon x reader #jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong #bigbang x reader #kpop #bigbang gdragon #g dragon #gn!reader #kwon jiyong x reader #G dragon x reader

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driverlando · 1 year ago

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✧.* A REWARD FOR THE CHAMP

synopsis- you give Charles the perfect end to an unforgettable night (Charles leclerc x f!reader)

before you read- 18+ only, contains smut (oral, f receiving and m receiving and p in v) If you enjoy, pls reblog and follow! I'm a new writer and appreciate your support. :)

The sun was setting over the picturesque streets of Monaco, casting a golden hue over the harbour and the cheering crowds. Charles Leclerc had just achieved a lifelong dream and had broke the curse: winning the Monaco Grand Prix. The roar of the crowd and the national anthem still echoed in his ears as he made his way through the paddock, a broad grin never leaving his face.

In the team’s hospitality suite, his friends and fellow drivers gathered around, the celebratory mood infectious. Carlos Sainz, his teammate, was the first to embrace him, a proud grin on his face.

“You did it, mate! you’re a legend,” Carlos said, slapping Charles on the back.

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “I know, I know. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Max Verstappen, always competitive but genuinely happy for his friend, raised his glass in a toast. “To Charles, for making us all look slow on his home turf.”

Laughter rippled through the group, and Charles clinked glasses with his friends, basking in the moment. “Merci, les gars. Tonight, we celebrate!” (Thank you, guys)

As the evening wore on, the drivers slowly began to disperse, some heading back to their hotels, others to after-parties. Charles stayed a bit longer, enjoying the camaraderie, but his thoughts were already drifting to you. He knew you were waiting for him, and the thought of seeing you made his heart race faster than the last lap of the race.

“Heading home, champ?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

Charles nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I have someone special waiting for me.”

Arthur chuckled. “Well, definitely don’t keep her waiting. Enjoy your night, Charles.”

With a final wave to his friends, Charles made his way out of the suite, the thrill of victory still coursing through his veins. The drive home was a blur, the familiar streets of Monaco rushing past until he finally pulled into the driveway of your shared apartment.

He opened the door quietly, stepping inside to find you waiting in the living room, a smile lighting up your face as soon as you saw him. You stood, crossing the room to wrap your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Félicitations, mon amour,” you whispered, your eyes sparkling with pride.

Charles held you close, his hands resting on your hips. “Merci, chérie. I couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

You smiled, taking his hand and leading him towards the couch. “I have a special celebration planned for you.”

His eyebrows rose in curiosity, but he followed without question. You gently pushed him to sit on the couch, your fingers working deftly to unbutton his shirt. He watched you, his breath hitching as you slid the fabric off his shoulders, revealing the toned muscles beneath.

“You’ve worked so hard for this,” you murmured, pressing kisses to his chest. “Tonight, let me take care of you.”

Charles’ eyes darkened with desire as he leaned back, watching you. “Je suis tout à toi,” (I’m all yours) he whispered, his voice husky. “Always so good to me”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, the heat pooling between your legs as you knelt before him, your hands trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. He watched you, anticipation clear in his gaze.

“Let me show you how proud I am,” you whispered, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You freed him from the confines of his boxers, his erection springing free. He was already hard, his desire for you evident. His tip already leaking with pre cum.

Charles groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, giving a few slow, teasing strokes. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You smiled, your tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting the salty essence of him. “Good,” you murmured, before taking him into your mouth.

His hips jerked involuntarily as you sucked him in deeper, your tongue swirling around him. You set a slow, torturous pace, wanting to savour every moment, every sound he made. Charles’ hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided your movements. His chest was already flushed, sweat pooling around his muscles. He looked like a dream.

“Mon Dieu,” (my God) he breathed, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re amazing.”

His praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder. His hips bucked, and you moaned around him, the vibration making him curse softly in French.

“Do you like that, Charles? Do you like how I make you feel?” you asked, pulling back slightly to stroke him with your hand.

“Oui, je t’adore,” (yes, I love it) he murmured. “I love it, I love you.”

You took him back into your mouth, increasing the pace. Charles’ breathing grew heavier, his grip on your hair tightening as he guided your movements. You felt him start to tense, his muscles coiling in anticipation of release.

“Mon amour, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained with need.

You didn’t slow down, wanting to bring him the same intense pleasure he’d given you. His hips began to move in time with your motions, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You’re perfect.”

With a final, deep thrust, he came undone, spilling into your mouth with a guttural moan. You swallowed every drop, savouring the taste of him as he shuddered beneath you.

When he finally caught his breath, he pulled you up into a searing kiss, tasting himself on your lips. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands caressing your back.

You smiled against his lips, your heart swelling with love. “Anything for you, Charles.”

He pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your body, as if memorising every curve, every inch of you. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you,” you whispered after a few minutes of kissing, once you knew he was undoubtedly getting hard for you again.

You wasted no time stripping off your clothes, the heat between you both too intense to ignore. You pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his hips, sinking down onto him with a gasp. The sensation of him filling you completely made your head spin, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Charles’ hands found your waist, steadying you as you began to move, rocking your hips against him. His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze filled with raw desire and adoration.

“C’est ça… tu te sens bien, n’est-ce pas?” (That's it... you feel good, don't you?) he murmured, his voice low and encouraging.

“Oui, Charles,” you gasped, your movements growing more frantic as you chased your release. “You’re so deep.”

“You’re being so good for me,” he praised, his grip tightening on your hips. “Is this your gift to me, yeah?”

“Oui, it’s all for you,” you whimpered, your hands resting on his flushed chest for support.

His hand slid from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to move faster. “That’s right… use me… get yourself off.”

The intensity of his gaze, the feel of his hands on your skin, it all combined to drive you higher and higher until you were teetering on the edge. With a final, desperate moan, you came undone, your body shuddering around him as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Charles held you through it, his own release following closely as he watched you fall apart on top of him. His groan of satisfaction was music to your ears, and you collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling.

But he wasn’t done yet. With a gleam in his eye, Charles rolled you over gently, positioning you beneath him on the couch. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his expression tender yet filled with desire.

“I want to see you fall apart for me again,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Let me make you feel even better. Let me have a taste”

Your breath hitched as he moved down your body, his lips trailing hot kisses over your skin. He paused, his eyes meeting yours as he kissed a path between your breasts, down to your stomach. Every touch, every kiss was electric, setting your nerves on fire.

“Charles, please,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down to the apex of your thighs.

He grinned, his fingers parting your folds as his tongue flicked out, teasing your sensitive clit. The sensation was almost too much, your back arching off the couch as he lavished attention on you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you to the brink once more.

Your moans filled the room, your hands clutching at the cushions as he pushed you higher and higher. He looked up, his eyes locking with yours as he murmured against your skin, “Come for me, mon amour. I want to feel you again.”

His words, combined with the relentless pleasure he was giving you, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as he continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last wave of pleasure.

When you finally came down, he crawled back up your body, kissing you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of just how intimately he knew your body.

“I love watching you fall apart,” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with awe and desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

You pulled him closer, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. “I love you, Charles.”

He smiled, brushing his lips against yours. “I love you too, more than anything.”He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, mon amour. The night was perfect.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “You deserve it, Charles. I’m so proud of you.”

He stroked your hair, his touch tender and loving. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re my good luck charm.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “And you’re my champion.”

Charles chuckled, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. “Here’s to many more victories, both on and off the track.”

You nodded, feeling content and loved in his arms. “To many more, Charles.”

Exhausted but blissfully content, you cuddled together on the couch, not bothering to go upstairs. The warmth of each other’s bodies, the rhythm of your breaths, and the unspoken bond of love and victory lulled you both into a peaceful sleep, a perfect end to an unforgettable day.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 scenario #formula one smut

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